#i had like. a oneshot idea in my head last night and i just started thinking about them

[kiwibirdlafayette]

does anyone else think a lot about ruxomar!dianite being like a father figure to Tom post-canon who is trying to understand what it means to be a dianite beyond just the powers and the title and who otherwise hasnt had much guidance in the way of non-fighting life related things (bc that’s all s1 dianite really instilled in him when he revived him) or just me

[cinnamon-girl-writes]

request for death note oneshot i love ur eren one its fire i found u on ao3 i think and didnt think id find you again here

l x fem reader (having a deep conversation abt quantum physics n such) plspls

hi there 🤍🤍 ahh i see so many people say they found me on ao3! i'm curious what fandom/fic you found me from

anyways, sorry this was in my drafts for so long, i have *so* much going on in my personal life right now and also lots of work/trips piling up. but i was soooo excited by this idea! i've never written death note x reader but it's an area i'd like to explore so i'll take all the requests i can get!!

how you get the girl - l lawliet x reader

by @cinnamon-girl-writes! . . .

“so, in conclusion, while newton’s laws tell us that matter exists in a particle state. however, quantum mechanics argues that matter exists as waves tightly woven together to  make something physical.”

you shake your head, giving up on trying to understand. your boyfriend was sitting betwen your legs on the floor, with you sitting on the edge of the bed. he currently had half of his head in pigtails and the other half in a braid— the consequence of letting you do whatever you wanted to him.

“i don’t get it,” you admitted. “how can something be two things at once?”

he titled his head back, gazing at the half of your face he could see form this angle. “well, look at the two of us. we’re talking to eachother, but also breathing, and thinking, and our bodies are circulating blood and other important things.”

you laughed softly at his coyness. “i don’t think that’s how it works.” you leaned down, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

he smiled slightly as you did, allowing his eyes to flutter closed.

of course, your shared moment of peace couldn’t last for long. as you moved in to place another kiss to his face, ryuzaki’s phone rang.

he sat up, retrieving his phone form his pocket and standing to face you.

“i’m sorry, i have to take this,” he said to you. understanding, you gave him a look of encouragement as he left the room to answer the call.

in lieu of his presence, you decided to turn on the television in the room. it wasn’t as cozy as your apartment back home, but it sure was better than a cheap motel. ryuzaki had rented out an entire hotel building indefinitely until the kira case was closed, including the hotel staff, meaning you got breakfast and coffee delivered to your room every morning and room service at any hour. it made you wonder just how much money he has.

after channel surfing for what felt like hours (thirty minutes) you finally decide on a daytime tv channel playing a telenovela. you watched it for a few minutes when ryuzaki finally returned to the room.

“how’s your show?” he asked, taking a seat next to you on the couch where you were lounging.

“rebecca is cheating on her boyfriend steven, but she just found out she’s pregnant with joshua’s baby,” you explained.

ryuzaki pondered. “so, joshua is the man she’s having an affair with?”

you shook your head, pointing out the characters on the screen to your boyfriend. “no, joshua is her ex who she had a one-night stand with a few months ago. before she started seeing mark—“ you point to the man on the right of the screen, “—who, unbeknownst to her, is engaged to angela, rebecca’s old ski instructor. and she’s pregnant, but they don’t know if the baby is going to live, because she just got diagnosed with stage four lung cancer.”

ryuzaki sighed, pulling you in with an arm around your shoulders and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “maybe these people would have less problems if they led less . . . promiscuous lives.”

you laughed, looking up at him, “yeah, maybe you’re right.”

the rest of the afternoon passed unceremoniously, ryuzaki accepting a few more phone calls and having to leave for a few meetings. later that evening, you were having dinner together (albeit later than anticipated as his meeting had dragged on for far too long). 

“ryuzaki?” you called his name. the two of you were currently situated on the living room floor in front of the tv and a circular ottoman where your takeout was positioned.

he twirled the flavorful noodles on his chopsticks, not looking up to answer you. “yes?”

you exhaled. “i still don’t get what you were talking about earlier.”

“what is it you’ve yet to understand, my love?”

if there was one thing you loved about ryuzaki, it was the fact that he would explain anything to you without making you feel inferior or stupid. it may seem silly, but you felt like you could ask him anything.

“well . . . “ he stalled for a moment, setting down his food. “you and i are made of particles, correct?”

you nodded, unconvinced, “but i thought we were made of waves.”

ryuzaki turned to face you. “every particle in our bodies is tightly woven together, in a way to form waves.” he moved closer in your direction, invading your space and taking up every inch of your thoughts. he raised his palm to face you, and gestured for you to do the same.  “and when those waves touch—“ he moved his hand forward, and ever so carefully, intertwined his fingers with yours, “— they become connected, and create friction, and heat.”

you giggled when you pulled your intertwined fingers together to press a kiss to the tip of your nose. “you’re such a nerd.”

he smiled. “but you love it?”

you smiled back. “yeah, i do.”

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚

i had to research quantum mechanics for this THE THINGS I DO FOR YALL!!!!! jkjk :) but i still dont get this shit lmao

[d0rothydraws]

Plus size reader has been sick and busy for the last 2 weeks. Sylus has also been busy, resorting in them not having sex for that time. Then, you feel better one day.

content: f!reader, plus size reader, description of fat bodies, very body positive, oral f! receiving, teasing, smut

w/c: 2.4k

Ao3: Here

a/n: I had an idea and it turned into this which was NOT my idea but I hope you enjoy it anyways. I want to write more plus size content as a big girlie myself I need to make my own food for this community.

also i'll be posting less because I'm starting a new job but I'll try to post now and then but also i'm going to try and write a bunch of prompts and oneshots for kinktober so if i do write stuff, I might just be saving it for october.

if theres anything you want to see with any of the boys for kinktober, send me an ask or comment and i'll make a list. I'll write pretty much anything.

You and Sylus have been busy as of late. Meetings, work, other obligations that left you tired. On top of that, for the last week you've been fighting off a cold. So, reluctantly much to the both of you, you had not had sex for two weeks; which for you two, two weeks ago seemed impossible. Two weeks ago it seemed like every few hours you were being dragged away, pulled onto his lap, lifted onto the counter, in the shower, against the door. Everywhere, anytime.

Of course you both were pent up, but your relationship was more than sex. You enjoyed each others company, and he would hold you close no mater how worried you were about getting him sick. He would kiss your forehead, his touch gentle and caring as you waited until you recovered. You swore you drank a years worth of orange juice which, in turn, upset your stomach more. He would tease you about wanting to get better so quickly, that he enjoyed taking care of you. But you knew he was just as eager as you.

So when you woke up one night you noticed how you felt imminently.

The feeling in your throat, gone. The weight behind your eyes, gone. The soreness in your stomach, gone. It was like you were a new person. As you sat up in the bed, knowing Sylus was still awake, probably in the attic watching a movie, your heart raced. You already felt the excitement build inside you as you just thought about what the next couple hours would consist of.

You changed clothes, your frumpy baggy night clothes replaced with a thin tank top that left nothing to the imagination. The curve of your soft stomach poked out slightly through the bottom of the fabric. Shorts replacing the thick pajama pants you've been wearing for two weeks straight. You looked at yourself in the mirror, pleased at the display. You weren't shy about your body. Not anymore, not worth him. He told you time and time again how your curves drove him wild, how his hands would sink into your body. The way your thighs touched and shook as you walked. You caught him looking more than a couple times. And now, with everything on display, your mission had begun.

Making your way up the stairs to the attic you didn't try to be quiet. You knew he would be able to hear you, anyways, you wanted him to see you. As you immerged, the room was dark. Sylus preferred to use a projector, the white canvas stretching the entirety of the wall beside the door. And in an instant, his eyes were on you. The red piercing the darkness more than the projector light did. You didn't hesitate or falter though as you walked right past him to the little bar that was behind the couch.

"What's got you all dressed down, kitten. Did you get too hot?" He said the concern clear in his voice but also, there was a roughness that he's been holding back for weeks present. You felt the sound make your head spin.

"Yeah, I got another hot flash." You said moving to grab a bottle of water that you knew you weren't going to drink, but you wanted to catch him off guard. "What are you watching?" You asked as you moved to stand behind the couch. You could nearly see the hair on the back of his head prickle at your presence. Before he could answer you leaned down, your lips pressing against his ear. Your voice low, your chest pressed against the edge of the couch, against his back as he felt your soft body against him making his breath hitch. "I don't think I seen this one before."

You felt his body tense against you, his hand on his drink tensed as your hand moved over his chest, feeling his muscles flex under his sweat shirt. He turned his head trying to look at you, but in turn, you took advantage, pushing your lips against his now exposed neck. What you didn't expect, was for him to moan.

"I thought you were still sick, sweetie." He said with an edge to his voice as he tried to not let his emotions get the better of him. But you both knew he was more sensitive than what he wanted you to believe. As he felt your teeth graze his neck, you moved back up to his ear, catching the lobe softly with your tongue.

"I was. And now I'm not." You said matter-of-factly, leaning more over the couch so he could feel your chest on the back of his neck. Sylus moved his hand, trying to touch you, any part of you before you moved away, circling the couch. You stood Infront of him, your body casting a shadow on the movie. His eyes raked down your body, his cheeks having a faint red glow. Slowly you walked over to him, your thighs trapping him against the couch. You sat back on him, watching his throat constrict slightly as his hand touched the soft curve on your side.

"You look very appetizing right now." He said with a groan, feeling your body in his hands, his cock twitching under your ass that was barely covered by your shorts. "Are you sure you're feeling better. If we start it will be hard for me to stop especially when you look like this." He said, his breath heavy as his hands moved to your love handles, the soft dough like area melting under his fingers as he started to sink his fingers more into you. His hands kneading your body as his cock twitched again. You pressed against him, your stomach and chest soft against his hard one, filling the space between your two bodies.

"Aw are you saying I'm cute? I could say the same about you." You teased as your own hands moved to the hem of his shirt. He helped you, taking his hands off you just long enough to let you pull it over his head and toss it to the side of the couch. His eyes narrowed at your comment but he smirked softly, enjoying the hunger in your eyes as you looked at his body. His muscles flexed, so defined, strong. And yours on top of him. Soft, more curves than he could hold in one hand and just as sexy as him. You complimented each other.

"Oh darling you're much more than cute" He purred, his hands on you again as he trailed down your curves to grasp the side of your thigh. His other hand moved to the top of your tank top, pulling it down more and more until it ripped. He watched as your chest was slowly revealed more as he stretched out the already thin shirt. The sight made his mouth water. You shivered, watching as your chest shook softly from the fabric ripping, the rest of your shirt falling off of your shoulders. You teased him, using your arms to press your tits together, shaking them slightly. You seen a spark flash in his eye before his head pressed into the cleavage.

His eyes looked up at you as you moaned, feeling his tongue lick at one nipple a your other nipple as being pinched and played with by his fingers. You ground your hips against him, moaning as you felt him bite your nipple as if giving a warning. That didn't stop you from doing it again though. And this time, he ground back. Slow, and steady. He pulled his mouth away from you, a long string of saliva attaching him to your nipple before it broke.

Your hands moved to his chest, the palms brushing over the skin as you ground again, his hands moving to your hips, holding you still. In seconds, you felt the couch against your back, one leg hanging off of the couch due to the width of your thighs, but it only made his job easier since you were practically on display for him.

His hands moved over your body, body caging you in as he left no inch left untouched and un-kissed. He started at your neck, peppering kisses as he licked down between your chest, his hands returning for a second before he continued lower. He kissed down your stomach, taking extra time for his hands to play with you some more. To feel your weight in his hands, how your body was so soft against his. His hands weren't shy about any rolls you had, or extra softness. If anything he took his time to appreciate every curve, his hands and fingers making your dizzy as he slowly reached the top of your shorts.

His hands slipped under the band of your shorts, pulling them down to find the lack of underwear. He chuckled, trailing kisses down your soft thighs, nipping the inside gently as he felt you twitch and shiver from his touch.

"No panties? What a naughty kitten." He purred as he licked the inside of your thigh again, his other hand pulling the one that was hanging off the couch to rest on his shoulder. Before you could answer, his face was between your thighs. He had the hunger of a man that hadn't eaten in weeks. And in a way, he hadn't. One hand moved to grope your stomach, fingers squeezing and kneading the softness you had as his tongue pushed inside you. He moaned, breath heavy as you clenched around his tongue, pulling your hips closer, forcing his tongue deeper.

"You taste sweeter than I remember. All of that orange juice might have had something to do with it." He growled, pulling back for a moment as you gasped for breath at the sudden stop. You looked at him, the sight of his face covered in your juices, how he licked his lips. His free hand moved between your thighs, gently pushing two fingers in at once. Your body arched, eyes rolling back as he moved his mouth back to meet his hand. His lips moving to suck and lick your clit until you were shaking and begging him to not stop. As you came on his fingers, he licked you clean, not wasting a single drop as he pulled away, purring softly. "Delicious." He said, his voice heavy with arousal.

As you caught your breath, he moved off of the couch, discarding his pants and boxers. You looked at him, moaning softly as you felt heat flood your body at the sight of his thick dripping cock. It had been 2 weeks since you took him, and a thrill went through your body as you wondered how he would feel after so long. A hand moved to his cock as he rubbed himself, walking to you. His eyes raking over your body. You moved one leg over the back of the couch as if to draw him in more, if that was even possible.

As he repositioned over you, he kissed you slowly. You moaned as you tasted yourself on him, kissing back. A hand moved to your cheek as his thumb trailed your jaw. After a moment he pulled back, his voice earnest and soft.

"It's been a while, so I'll start slow." He said as he rubbed the tip of his cock against your wetness, coating himself slightly. You gave a soft nod, your heart fluttering at his sincerity before he started to push in.

Your body went numb. Your cheeks flushed as your mouth opened. every nerve in your body contracted at the feeling. Pure pleasure and some pain as you felt your body stretch. He did move slow, but the moans he made, the grunts as you clenched around him, it made it hard for the both of you. You knew he was big, you've fucked more times than you could count. But in your abstinence, your body forgot.

"God, Sylus." You moaned, a hand curling in his hair, another clawing his arm. "You feel bigger than I remember." You gasped out, nails digging into him which made him rut slightly, pushing more into you as you cried out.

"Oh, sweetie. I'm almost offended. But I suppose it's more of a happy surprise." He said with a chuckle before he bottomed out. Your head was empty, the only thing that felt empty if you were honest. The only thought was him. How full he made you feel. How deep he was, how much he stretched you as you shook around him. No wonder you fucked him several times a day, his cock was like a drug. A drug made for you and you alone.

As he started to move his hands grabbed your love handles, fingers sinking into the flesh as he pulled you closer. Your body jiggled with each thrust, your chest bouncing, thighs wobbling, stomach shaking. Sylus growled softly, his eyes darkening at the sight as his thrusts got rougher as if to see how much he could make your body bounce from his cock.

Soon, you felt his hips start to stutter. One of his hands moved to between your thighs, thumb working the hard little nub that was begging to be touched. As he felt you clench around him, moaning and clawing his arm which was definitely going to leave a mark, he felt how close you were. Your moans getting louder, your cries getting higher pitched as your face grew more red, legs shaking around him.

"You look so good like this under me." He said, his voice heavy with need as he continued his movement. His comment pushed you over the edge, your body shaking with pleasure as your orgasm hit you like a wave. You gasped out his name, hand falling off of his arm. Seconds later he followed after you, groaning as he painted the inside of your walls with his thick cum. He continued to pump into you, slower as he released, riding it out. Your eyes rolled as you whimpered. Had he not came this whole time? There was so much. You shivered as you felt your body get aroused again, feeling how much he was filling you before finally pulling out, his cock still half half. He panted, leaning over you as he put one arm on the couch arm rest.

Kissing you slowly, he brought his other hand to your face, holding you firmly. There was heat behind the kiss. His body still burning with that need for you.

"I hope you're not tired." He said against your lips, his hands moving to rub the expanse of your thighs. "Because we have to make up for lost time."

[skrrts]

older, wiser & hotter than ever (oneshot)

✧ gn!reader x song mingi ✧ genre: non idol, slice of life, dating, fluff ✧ word count: 2,1k

Mingi didn’t anticipate spending his 25th birthday stuck at an airport because your flight home was canceled at the last minute. There isn't much you can do about it but it doesn't mean you won't make sure it's a birthday to remember in your own little silly ways.

a/n: i wanted to write something short and cute for his birthday. no special warnings. queued it to be posted at Korean midnight hour.

“I am really sorry we have no better news for you, but due to the weather, there won’t be any flights until morning, once the fog has cleared. However, your rescheduled flight at nine should leave as planned,” the woman apologized again, and you hurried to smile.

“Of course, I understand. Thank you so much for the help,” you offered a polite nod and turned around. After the most amazing week in Los Angeles, it seemed not all plans were meant to work out. Of course, everyone else frowned a bit when Mingi announced with a playful grin how you managed to plan your vacation so that you’d land and return home at the moment of midnight, him stepping out of the airplane as his birthday began. There was a bit of a romantic idea to see it as a symbol of stepping into the second half of his twenties.

Mingi was quite emotional about it; the idea of letting go of his youth was challenging, and you knew it was his way of dealing with it. Now the two of you were sitting at the airport, your flight was canceled because of bad weather, and neither of you had enough cash left to book another hotel to be a bit more comfortable.

Mingi was obviously disappointed. He always failed to hide it, as much as he hurried to smile when he saw you, his hand reaching out to pull you onto his lap.

“I take it they told you there is nothing they can do about it, and we have to please be understanding, while also reminding us that bad weather will not be a reason for the travel company to give us a refund.”

You laughed when he changed his voice, trying to sound like one of those travel agents. You curled your arm around his neck and placed a short kiss on his lips.

“Something like that. I guess we’re stuck here until tomorrow. At least you’ve got a great story to tell — just add a little more action and tension, like thousands of tourists stranded in Los Angeles, scenes close to a battle.”

It was nice to see his features form into his iconic smile: “Don’t forget about the aliens, then.”

The two of you laughed, and he sighed, allowing his chin to rest on your shoulder. “I wouldn’t mind, though, if we suddenly found a black credit card and could spend the night in one of those big, fancy airport hotels. That would be nice. We totally deserve that, don’t we?”

The idea of a large bed instead of the uncomfortable seating areas of the airport was certainly more tempting.

“Absolutely. Speaking of sleep, though, it’s getting late. While we’ll make it back home with half a day of delay, you still should rest a bit.” You ruffled his hair. “Don’t want to start your special day being all tired.”

Mingi pouted and looked at you before giving in. “Fine, but only with my favorite pillow. Let’s move to one of those corner sitting areas, then I can relax against the wall and you can lean against me.”

You nodded and took his hand, Mingi taking care of the luggage you shared with his free hand as you carefully made your way through the upset crowds of passengers, as you weren’t the only ones affected by this. At least you managed to find a more private spot quickly, a small sitting corner far from the ticket counters.

Once the bag was securely stored, Mingi got comfortable, opening his arms wide for you. You snuggled into his embrace, and his arms held you tightly, your head against his cheek as you listened to his heartbeat.

“This was a really fun vacation, even if it ends like this,” your boyfriend noted after a while, his voice sleepy but content. “I never thought I’d come here until you just said we’re gonna do it. The food was really good, and I will have to save up properly next time. Then, I can buy one of those fancy jackets, maybe some cool shoes to go along with it. I’ll wear both at the water restaurant, with some sunglasses, and flash you a smile so you fall madly in love with me, and we walk into the sunset.”

As you listened to him, you couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, Mingi, you already are the coolest and hottest person to me, and while maybe your clothes aren't the big brands, you look amazing in every photo we took.”

As your head tilted a little to look at him, your gazes met, and he smiled lazily but happily. “I have the most stunning and gorgeous person by my side, just making sure I always live up to it.”

He always would have your heart and silly admiration; there was nothing special needed, but you knew Mingi was stubborn, and you did not want to tell him not to aim for something important to him.

“Said person would not mind a good night kiss.”

This time you were the one to pout your lips and grin, mumbling something about how you learned from the best, and you kissed. Your hand rested against his warm cheek as you slowly gave him a gentle shove to relax back.

“Time for that nap. We do not want to miss that late flight because of being too tired,” you teased, but Mingi yawned. Unlike you, he drifted off within minutes, and while you fell into a soft kind of slumber, it was not deep. You just could not see yourself sleeping at an airport at all, eventually ending up just watching passengers pass by, many leaving as it got dark and likely booking some hotel to spend the night there rather than here.

You pulled out your phone and checked the time; it was about an hour left to the eighth of August back at home. This was not how you planned it, but improvising was one of your strengths. You gave your boyfriend a gentle shove.

“Mingi, are you awake? I really need to use the bathroom.”

It took a moment, but eventually, Mingi stirred and gave you a small nod, a big hand ruffling through your hair.

“I’m awake, go ahead.” His husky, sleepy voice was nice — you always loved to hear it.

“I’ll be back soon,” you promised. A quick kiss was placed on his cheek before you got up and grabbed your bag. The truth was you had a few other intentions, a plan made on the spot, finding one of the many restaurants and bakeries at the airport. This one was a little smaller and seemed more personal.

When you approached the woman and asked for the favor, she seemed amused but offered a kind smile.

“That’s no problem if you say the flavor does not matter. We have a few smaller cakes. Would you like a ‘Happy Birthday’ with a name or an age, maybe?”

There was a hint of color on your cheeks: “Actually, I was thinking this?”

You had seen a few of those cakes on Pinterest when searching for ideas for Mingi’s birthday for the small celebration you two had planned for the weekend with friends.

The woman laughed, followed by her co-worker who also glanced at it: “That we can do as well. We just finished a new row of cakes, so give us twenty minutes and it should be done.”

You clapped your hands together: “Thank you very much.”

The woman smiled, and you sat down on one of the free chairs, dropping Mingi a message that you were hungry, and decided to grab some food on the way back, just so he wouldn’t be worried about where you went.

He answered within a moment with a few kissing emojis, so you were relieved to see he was doing okay.

The past few years with him had been some of the best. You loved how reckless he could be while also just embracing his cuteness when everyone else often thought of him as a guy who was a little mysterious and hard to figure out. If anything, Mingi always felt easy to read; the longer you two were together, the fewer the occasions where he would try and hide his feelings from you, something you honored by doing the same.

“Here you go,” the woman handed you a small box, and you opened it, giving it a glance before smiling.

“This is perfect, thank you!” The cake really was small, but that was perfect; wasting food was not an option, and you wouldn’t be able to take any on the flight.

“We hope even with this weather, he has a nice birthday.” The woman winked and gifted you two bottles of coffee for free.

When you slowly returned to your seats, Mingi looked like a lost puppy, his head going left and right to see just where you had been.

“You didn’t think I was running away, did you?” you teased softly as he looked at you, his face brightening up right away.

“Of course not, you just were gone for some time,” he replied, and his gaze wandered to the box in your hand. You offered one of the bottles to him; it was late for coffee, but he did not seem to question it after the two of you just had a nap.

“Well,” you started, looking at him. “I know this day was meant to be special, and we’re about to spend half of it on an airplane instead, but I don’t think that means it has to be any less amazing. After all, it is your day, and how could it not be?”

Look at you being all sappy! At least there was a blush, and he rubbed a hand over his neck.

“Yah, what’s this all about?”

Two minutes until midnight at home.

You smiled, leaning over to unzip the bag and pulling out something you managed to sneak in without him noticing when you packed. The branding on it already made his face surprised.

The two of you went to this one store; they sold really unique pieces of denim jackets, each one of a kind, but the prices were a little steep. So when Mingi tried on the same one four times but sighed because of the price tag, ultimately leaving it behind while talking about just how nice it had been for days, you knew this was it. You went back and bought it.

“Seriously?” Mingi looked like you gifted him a car rather than a jacket when he pulled it out and looked at it like it was the most stunning piece of clothing.

“You loved it so much, and you look good in it, so when I said I wanted to buy some souvenirs, I actually went back to the store. It is your birthday, so no notes about the price! You just owe me to wear it plenty and tell everyone how amazing I am,” you teased, and he pulled it on, right over his hoodie.

“This is the best — you are the best!” He pulled you closer, kissing you deeply. It took a bit of effort not to just lean in and let him pull you over. The hour changed, and you smiled into the kiss.

“Happy Birthday, Song Mingi,” you whispered. Mingi was smiling brightly.

“Thank you. Oof, I love you so much!”

You laughed and finally offered the box to him.

“Well, I hope with a new age comes great hunger. Every birthday should start with a cake. Candles will have to wait for the other one at home, but until then, here you go.”

Mingi grinned: “Is that so? Ah, okay then!”

He accepted it and opened the box slowly, greeted by the text you requested.

‘Older, Wiser, and Hotter than Ever.’

Getting older was scary but also exciting, and you couldn’t wait to see where Mingi was going from here. You were happy to be the one by his side.

“I cannot deny I get older and hotter. I am pretty hot, am I not?” he grinned, and you rolled your eyes, smirking.

“Fine, I admit it.”

“ I will make sure it becomes a daily thing. I don’t promise to get any wiser, but the rest, leave it to me. You won’t regret it.”

Mingi kissed you again, and this time, you just allowed yourself to melt a little more.

Yeah, you were more than content to let him impress you, day by day, for the rest of your life, and all it would take was for you two to be yourselves and be together.

The world stopped, just for you, as thousands of passengers rushed through the busy airport.

[daisiesinvienna]

Hi! I live for your writing and i just saw that you write for daryl dixon too??

Could you write a oneshot where daryl and reader were separated after the prison, and when joe and his gang get revenge on rick she’s there instead of michonne?

Reckoning and Restitution

Title: Reckoning and Restitution

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Genre: Angst

Summary: After you and Daryl were separated during the fall of the prison, Daryl finds himself in a gang he doesn’t want to be in while looking for you. But when Joe and his gang seek revenge on Rick for strangling one of their friends in a bathroom, you get caught in the crossfire.

Warnings: Typical TWD violence, gore, swearing, sexual assault.

Era: Post-Prison, Pre-Terminus

Author’s Note: I had something planned for Billy but I saw this request and couldn’t resist. This is a little dark, but if you watched the scene in the show you should be alright reading this. Also I saw this big ass spider run across my floor while I was writing this and now I can’t find it so i’m gonna go sleep on the couch

The sun had begun to disappear into the horizon, casting long shadows across the cement. 

You allow yourself to admire how the sky briefly turns into a vast, endless, ever-changing canvas of color, then starts to fade. Sunsets like these always make you feel hopeful, reminding you that even though the world had ended, you still have a chance at a happy ending. The sun would always rise and set, always paint the sky those brilliant colors, despite the horrors occurring down on earth. At least for another few billion years. 

The sun slowly sinks down into the horizon, taking with it the last few golden rays of light. Now, as the three of you trudge down the desolate and winding road, the sky slowly fades to black. 

You glance over at Rick, who has his eyes fixated on something up ahead. You follow his gaze, making out the silhouette of an abandoned vehicle not too far down the road, under the branches of a particularly large tree. 

“We’ll camp here for the night,” Rick says as the three of you reach the car. He pries open the car door to inspect the interior for anything of use as you check the perimeter for walkers.

It had certainly been a long day. You and Rick had decided to take your chances and head towards Terminus, thinking you could at least see if anyone from your group had gotten the same idea. But it was far away, and a difficult trip with a kid in tow. Especially when the kid was going through the difficult pre-teen phase.

It was lucky that you had found Rick and Carl after the prison fell. Or they found you, more like. Rick had quite literally drug you from the carnage, because you were so intent on finding Daryl. It took some convincing before you finally followed Rick and Carl away from the prison. You knew that with Daryl’s inhuman tracking skills, he would have no issue finding you. But it had been at least a few weeks, and there was no sign of him. It was an understatement to say you were worried. 

You plop down on the side of the road with a sigh, calculating in your head the days until you would reach Terminus. You had been keeping relaxed and calm by telling yourself firmly that Daryl would be waiting at the gates with that pissed-off look he always seemed to have no matter his mood.

Rick sits down beside you, having set up Carl in the backseat of the old car. He rummages around his pack before pulling out the last two granola bars, holding one out to you. You wave him off, knowing it would be wasted on you and should be saved for Carl.

He doesn’t falter, giving you his signature stern look.

“Take it,” He tells you, and you slowly accept the granola bar. “You’ve barely eaten today.”

You gratefully rip open the plastic packaging and take a bite, knowing he was right. 

“Thanks,” You mumble through a mouthful of food. Rick nods, opening one for himself as he glances towards the car where Carl slept. You know all too well the look of concern etched on his face, though he tries to mask it.

“He’ll be alright,” You state, taking another bite of your granola bar. Rick sighs, averting his gaze from the broken-down car. “He’s a tough kid.”

“I just wish he didn’t have to be,” Rick mutters, staring off into the woods. You nod slowly in agreement, opening your mouth to speak when you hear a stick break under someone’s boot behind the two of you.

Your hand immediately flies to your hip, hungry for the knife you knew was tucked into your belt. But just as you had wrapped your fingers around the hilt, the cool barrel of a gun was pressed against your temple. 

About ten rough-looking men emerge from the woods, all carrying guns and looking eager, like they were excited to see what Santa had brought them for Christmas. They slowly but strategically space themselves out, surrounding you and Rick so you had no escape route. You glance at Rick, to see that he has a gun to his head too, held by a man that had a sick grin on his face.

“Oh dearie me. You fucked up, assholes,” He announces, his voice sending chills down your spine. Your knife is yanked from your belt and flung onto the concrete, and you slowly raise both of your hands into the air, knowing there was no way out. 

“You hear me? You fucked up,” The man holding a gun to Rick’s head says, laughing. He was the clear leader of the gang. “Today’s the day of reckoning, sir. Restitution! A balancing of the whole damn universe! Shit, and I was thinking of turning in for the night on New Year’s Eve. Now who’s gonna count down the ball dropper with me, huh?” 

You knew that even if you and Rick retaliate at the same time, it would be pointless. Every man in the surrounding area was pointing a gun at the two of you. This wasn’t going to be good.

“10 Mississippi!”

What would happen when he finished counting, you didn’t know. You lock eyes with Rick, and he gave you a look that makes it plain you weren’t to try anything. Not yet, at least.

“9 Mississippi!”

You glance at the car parked a few yards away. One of the men was looking in the window at Carl, waving and grinning maliciously. Carl had woken up, and he looked from the man outside his window to his Dad, who was on his knees with a gun to his head.

“8 Mississippi!”

“Joe!” You hear someone shout. From behind the car, a man cautiously walks out. It was dark, so you can’t quite make out their face, but you could never forget that southern drawl. Your heart skips a beat.

“Hol’ up,” Daryl murmurs, stepping into a patch of moonlight. You stare at him in disbelief. Your eyes meet, and he gives you a look that makes it clear he doesn’t want any of this. His eyes dart from you to the guy behind you, who was still pressing a gun to your temple. You feel a surge of hopefulness. Daryl wouldn’t let this happen.

“You’re stopping me on eight, Daryl,” Joe retorts, raising an annoyed eyebrow at him.

“Just hold up,” Daryl mutters again, clearly looking for a way to stop this without pissing Joe off.

“This is the guy that killed Lou, so we got nothing to talk about!” Shouts a gruff looking man with a shotgun.

“The thing about nowadays is we got nothing but time. Say your piece, Daryl,” Joe says, gesturing at him with the air of giving him the spotlight.

“These people, you’re gonna let ‘em go. These are good people,” Daryl says softly to Joe, almost pleading. There was a hint of panic in his voice, though his facial expression was determinedly calm. You had never heard him speak this way before.

“Now, I think Lou would disagree with you on that. I’ll of course have to speak for him and all because your friend here, strangled him in a bathroom!” Joe yells.

“You want blood. I get it. Take it from me, man,” Daryl says, throwing his crossbow aside and raising his hands in surrender.

“No!” You shout immediately, scrambling to your feet. “Daryl, No!”

The man behind you roughly yanks you back to the ground. You try to pull yourself from his grasp, but you stop struggling against him when you hear the click of the safety on his gun. The man covers your mouth with his hand.

“Hush up now, bitch. I don’t want to have to shoot you yet,” He says, pressing the barrel to your temple. You instantly feel sick to your stomach.

“You keep your hands off her!” Daryl says firmly, taking a furious step towards the two of you with murder in his eyes, before two guys grab onto his arms and yank him back. 

“This man killed our friend!” Joe laughs, smiling broadly. “You say he’s good people. See, that right there… is a lie.”

“It’s a lie!” Joe repeats triumphantly. This seems to be some sort of code, because to your horror, a good number of the men surrounding you advance on Daryl. 

Daryl swings at the one who reaches him first, knocking him to the ground with one powerful blow. Before he can even turn around, the other men are on him. 

“No!” You shout desperately, watching Daryl try and fend off at least six guys. Daryl was strong, but he was significantly overpowered. “He didn’t do anything! Leave him alone!”

Daryl manages to land a few blows on his attackers, but they soon manage to get him on the ground. 

“Teach ‘em fellas, teach ‘em all the way!” Joe laughs. He then gave the other men a nod, which you soon realize was the ‘go ahead.’

The man holding onto you shove you forward onto the ground, and you hit your head painfully on the concrete. Before you realize what was happening, you are roughly flipped onto your back and the man had crawled on top of you. You hear the sound of the car door opening, and Carl’s yelp as someone drug him out of the car and flung him on the ground.

“You leave him be!” Rick shouts angrily. You could hear the sounds of grunts and fists colliding with flesh somewhere behind you, and knew that Daryl was putting up a hell of a fight.

The man on top of you pins your hands above your head with one of his, and you thrash and shout as you struggle to escape his grip. 

“Yeah, that’s right. It’s so much more fun when you fight it,” The man purrs, smirking down at you as he roughly tore your shirt off, buttons scattering onto the road.

“No! No, stop it! Get- off- me!” You shout, starting to panic as he roughly grabs at your chest.

“Don’tcha fuckin’ touch her!” Daryl yells furiously from behind you, but his shouts are silenced as the men continue to land blow after blow.

“Listen it was me, it was just me!” Rick shouts desperately as Carl’s yelps become louder from next to the car. Tears are streaming down your face as you struggle against the man above you. What did they want with Carl?

“See now that’s right! That’s not some damn lie. We can settle this, we’re reasonable men,” Joe says, sounding genuinely entertained by the sight before him, as if he was watching the ending of a suspenseful movie.

“First we’re gonna beat Daryl to death,” Joe says. It sounds like Daryl’s resisting was starting to slow, but the impact of fists didn’t falter. If anything, they sped up.

“Daryl!” You yell as a last resort, the man starting to fiddle with the button on your cargo pants. You desperately try to free yourself, knowing what was going to happen to you if you didn’t escape. “Daryl!”

The man grabs you roughly by your hair, lifts your head, and hits it hard against the concrete below you. You groan, impossible pain flooding your head. You were too dizzy to struggle, and as your vision faded in an out you fought with all your might to stay conscious. Going unconscious in this situation would be deadly.

“Then we’ll all have the girl,” Joe says as quiet sobs escape you. You hear the sound of a belt buckle being undone.

“Then the boy,” Joe laughs. You could faintly hear the sound of Carl’s cries for help, and someone laughing loudly.

“Then I’m gonna shoot you, and then we’ll be square!” Joe laughs manically, foolishly bending down behind Rick. But his laughter was silenced by the slight inconvenience of Rick breaking his nose with the back of his head. Rick lunged for his gun, and the two started scuffling. The man on top of you didn’t care too much.

“What’s the matter, girl? No more fight left in ya?” He laughs, starting to attempt to pull your cargo pants down, ignoring your quiet begging.

Everyone suddenly turns around in shock to look at Rick and Joe when a horrible scream pierces the air. Then, somebody spat.

You seize the opportunity, and in the moment of silence, you use your remaining strength to knee your distracted attacker in the balls as hard as you possibly could. He shouts in pain, bringing his hand down to hit you across the face, making you see stars. The gunshots ringing through the air drowns out whatever vulgar word he calls you. Rick had gotten his hands on a gun, and you hear multiple bodies drop behind you. Before you know what’s happening, Daryl lunges out of nowhere and tackles your attacker, knocking him off of you.

Daryl got on top of the man, landing blow after blow on his face. He had a look of pure rage his eyes that you’d never seen before. Rick was violently stabbing the man who grabbed Carl. You scramble to your feet, ignoring the dizziness, looking around frantically. Bodies littered the ground. All of the men were dead, except for Joe, who was still choking on his own blood on the pavement.

Daryl finally stops hitting the man, before pulling his knife from his hip and stabbing him through the heart. Rick had long but killed Carl’s attacker, and you hear the body drop. Then there was almost complete silence, only broken by Joe gurgling and spluttering blood onto the pavement and the ringing in your ears.

Daryl turns to look at you, scanning you for injuries. His face is horribly bruised and bloody. When he stands up, Daryl stumbles up to you and immediately pulls you into his arms. You sink into them gratefully, before the tears started.

He holds you close, apologizing over and over again for hundreds of different things as you cry into his chest.

You’ll never admit it, but you were losing hope that you’d ever see him again. He very well could’ve died at the prison and you never would have known. But now as you clung to him, you realize that that was a stupid thing to think. Nothing could kill Daryl Dixon, except Daryl Dixon.

“I never stopped lookin’ for ya,” Daryl murmurs, his voice cracking. You look up at him to see tears streaming down his face. You’d never seen him cry before. “‘M sorry. ‘M so sorry.”

[unholyhelbig]

MORE RONNIE AND NAT FICS PLEASE🥺🥺🥺

Title: Chyornaya Redka [An Oversight Oneshot]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Summary: With Reader is away on a job and Ronnie comes down with a nasty cold, it's up to Natasha to come to the rescue.

Warnings(PLEASE READ): general sickness, gross sludge, mentions of kidnapping, blood and saliva, and horrible grammar

[a/n: This is shorter than I usually like to write, but it was a little harder for me to put together (I'm a wuss and I miss my mom, ok?) but you can't go wrong with a good sickfic!]

Check out the full Oversight universe

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven

Natasha Romanoff hunched over her laptop, the blue light making her eyes water. When she started running the better part of the city, she hadn’t anticipated all of the paperwork that awaited her. There were zoning laws, and countless rolls of red tape. Each shipment from the harbor was accompanied by a ledger, always brittle from the canal air.

She sighed, hugging her robe closer. It was getting difficult for her to concentrate in her office, so she’d relocated to the living room. The television was on, the volume low and keeping her company. She ached impossibly for you, in these moments.

The irony did not escape her. She was the one who had sent you and Yelena across the country for a stuttered shipment of firearms. The two of you together looked unassuming enough to not turn heads in Florida. You’d taken a mini-van, and the last time she checked in, you were in Louisianna, staving off the heat in the hotel room.

Natasha leaned back into the softness of the couch cushions and contemplated calling it a night. She squeezed the bridge of her nose, letting out another sigh that nearly made her lungs twitch. She was drowsy, body heavy with the idea of sleep. But Natasha couldn’t bring herself to move just yet.

She startled awake with the click of the light switch in the kitchen. It was followed by the sound of water streaming from the fridge and into a cup. Natasha blinked a few times. She frowned and looked at the clock. It was nearly two in the morning.

Natasha wandered into the kitchen. She wasn’t shocked to see Ronnie, hungrily gulping down the icy water. Her curled hair fell in ringlets against her shoulders. She was the spitting image of you and it made her heart ache. A smaller, quieter version that had taken a liking to Natasha.

She finished her water with one last gulp and stood on her tip-toes to place the glass in the sink, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Natasha didn’t like the look of her right now. She was paler than usual, a strange brittle stance.

Ronnie was small for her age, an eight-year-old that was shorter than her classmates. It was a point of contention and frustration for her. But you were always gentle with her, softly reminding her that she was beautiful.

Her bangs were stuck to her forehead with a cold sweat. Natasha had never seen the girl like this, not in the two years that she’d been ushered into the household. Dutifully, Natasha knelt until she was at the same level as Ronnie.

“Are you feeling okay, baby?” She rasped, pressing her hand gently against the girls head. She radiated heat, letting out the smallest of whimpers before slumping into Natasha’s touch. Up close, she was frailer, a whisp of a thing.

Oh. Oh God. This was bad.

Natasha felt a rush of panic. She’d never taken care of a sick child before, especially not by herself. Veronica had a stomach ache here and there, a pain in her ear after the three of you went on vacation and she’d gotten waterlogged. But nothing like this.

She contemplated calling Clint. He’d dealt with dozens of runny noses and vomit-filled waste baskets. But, she remembered the time just as quickly as she’d forgotten it. No, this was something she’d have to figure out on her own.

“I don’t feel good,”

Ronnie’s voice was small and gentle, but it was also the saddest thing that Natasha had ever heard. She swore that her heart broke right down the center at the sound, moving her hand to the girls shoulder. It was so frail under her touch.

“milaya devochka” Natasha tsked and scooped her up, placing her on the kitchen island. Ronnie whimpered “I have just the thing.”

Melina was a woman of science, she always had been, but there were a few Russian folk remedies that she adhered to. There was often Garlic broken around the house, and ginger tea that was shoved into her hands at the first sign of a scratchy throat.

Her least favorite, but most effective, revolved around a black radish. Melina would methodically cut the top from the spiced vegetable. She’d core it and filter honey into a cup. It was a rancid mix that would always leave her choking on the taste. The sweetness never outweighed the bitter. But it worked without fail.

By the following morning, Natasha was right as rain.

“chyornaya redka and honey. It won’t taste good, I’m afraid.”

A mason jar was kept in the furthest reaches of the fridge. Yelena would crinkle her nose and shove it to the side each time she caught a glimpse of the dull gray liquid. One spoonful was all it would take, but the overwhelming spice of that single gulp was startling enough.

Ronnie started to play with her fingers, nervously winding them as if they were knots that needed to be untangled. It was a nervous habit, one of her many ticks that Natasha had picked up on over the last two years. It was endearing, really.

She dunked a spoon into the frothy gray sludge. When she turned, she recognized the grimace and the way that Ronnie pressed her lips together. She was just short of crossing her arms over her chest in defiance.

The girl turned her head to the side for extra show, not even letting Natasha get close with the mix. Her breath caught, but it sounded like gravel under a tire. Her chest needed some serious clearing, and Natasha was always willing to be the bad guy.

“Vee, it’s not that bad. Just one spoonful and your fever will break.”

She lifted an unimpressed eyebrow, “you first”

It clearly hurt her to talk. She swallowed twice and winced with each movement. Natasha Romanoff was not going to let a child bully her into taking a spoonful of radish surprise, so sir, she wasn’t. But that tear clouded eyes were boring into the mob boss, cutting, really.

Natasha shifted from one foot to another, frowning at the liquid that slowly started to congeal. It would just get worse the longer it sat. She glared down at the spoon and then back up the unbudging girl on the counter. She certainly was your daughter.

With a reluctant sigh, she clenched her eyes shut and placed the spoon in her mouth. Somehow, it was fouler than she remembered. Somehow spicy and sour all at once. The honey did little to buffer the flavor. Yet, she schooled her features into something unbothered for the sake of Veronica.

“Okay, kiddo, open wide.”

She was met with a skeptical stare, but a deal was a deal. It wasn’t something they took lightly in this house. Veronica had conned Kate out of more than one full-sized chocolate bar on the principal alone.

Natasha dutifully guided the spoon to Ronnie’s mouth, and she gave the kid credit. She swallowed it with tears building in her eyes and a frown that was unmatched, but she swallowed it none the less before producing a grumble and slumping forward into Natasha’s arms.

She was burning up, an immense force of heat that wasn’t prepared for. Still, Natasha acted on instinct and scooped her into her arms, letting the young girl curl effortlessly into the small of her neck, small fingers gripping onto the edge of Natasha’s robe.

“Okay, moy malen'kiy strelok, it’ll be okay”

Natasha wasn’t sure about that, a small bit of anxiety still creeping along the back of her neck. There were a million questions that she didn’t’ have the answer to. What if it was more than just a cold? It could be appendicitis, or the scarlet fever. You’d never forgive her if you came home to a child with consumption.

She’d made it to the top of the stairs by the time her thoughts calmed down. Ronnie was sniffing into her neck with pitiful cries that continued to sink Natasha’s resolve. Veronica’s room was illuminated by a night light, an oscillating fan creating a white noise.

Natasha lowered the drowsy girl back into bed before diligently tucking her in. “I know it’s warm, kiddo, but we have to break that fever of yours.”

“Blaze,” Ronnie swallowed again, voice already sounding clearer “please”

Blaze the Dragon. It was a little on the nose, a dark green stuffed animal that Natasha had picked up in an airport earlier in the year. It was meant as a small gift, an apology for being late, but Ronnie took to it easily. The little dragon went with her everywhere, the stuffing worn around the middle where it was clutched to her little chest.

Natasha pushed Ronnie’s damp bangs from her forehead. She was already cooling down, but her eyes drooped with exhaustion as she hugged the little dragon closer. Her other hand reached for Natasha, holding her wrist with as much conviction as she could muster.

“Don’t go.”

“I’m not going anywhere, milaya devochka. I promise.”

And she wouldn’t. All sense of urgency to finish her paperwork had left Natasha. She settled herself on Ronnie’s twin sized bed, the small girl curling into her side. Her warmth was overwhelming, and she shivered as she clung onto her, breathing from a small parted mouth around a clogged nose.

Natasha traced soft line’s down Ronnie’s back and waited for her to fall asleep. Even in a deep slumber, she didn’t’ release her hold. Tears had soaked through Natasha’s shirt, wicking the fabric. There was an ache deep within Natasha’s chest that she could only recognize as undying affection.

Children were never in the cards for her. Not with the childhood she had. She never wanted for a single thing, but that came at a cost. Her family was constantly in danger. There were times where they’d rush from a public place, or duck down in a tinted vehicle.

Melina made encounters like these like a game, but the older Natasha got, the more the cold reality began to sunk in. Those were times of great danger, and she swore to never fall in love, to never put anyone else in an unassuming position.

But then, there was you.

She wanted to call it love at first sight, but that seemed much too dire. Your head was hanging, chin to chest, a steady stream of blood and saliva dripping from your lips and painting your jeans. Your eye was swollen shut, but she noted how your shoulders refused to tremble.

People didn’t tend to look Natasha Romanoff in the eyes, but you had. As best you could, you pulled against your binds and clenched your jaw and disregarded all of your pain just to level her with an unimpressed stare.

It should have caused anger, discontent. This was someone who had wronged her, after-all, but it did the opposite. She was intrigued by you, and you continued to surprise her with every single day. Two years living together, and a ring resting at the back of her side of the closet.

A grumble escaped Ronnie. She cuddled deeper into the perfumed comfort that Natasha had to offer. A string of words leaving her mouth. “Thank you, Mama”

Natasha’s heart seized. Mama.

Veronica was not a girl of many words. She said what she meant, and figured that silence served to convey the rest of her emotions. Little squeals of joy when Kate scooped her up and swung her around, or words of affirmation when Yelena would joking spar with her, were normal.

This was said in a state of grogginess, but meant all the same. It should scare her. But it doesn’t.

[Taglist🕷♡: @dumbasslesbi, @lostremind, @toouncreativeforausername @autorasexy @eringranola @mikookaaaaaao @marvelwoman-simp @pacmanmiles @mostlymarvelsstuff, @mrsrushman, @milfsandtittyenthusiast, @random-raccoon4, @ravenromanova, @mysticalmoonlight7, @ahintofchaos@cowboyboots236 @lissaaaa145, @natsxwife@a-spes, @kyleeservopoulos]

[maarslovesmonkees]

Love your writing already and excited for your future works :)

Would you be able to do a nsfw piece for possessive/jealous Noa x female reader with some marking/claiming?

\The Bite On Your Neck\

Hii thank you, that means so much😭🙏 Ouuu I love myself some jealousy from my ape men <3 I Hope you enjoy,:D 💞

Notes and warnings: Gender-neutral terms, Noa x Human!reader, Oneshot, NSFW, 1.2K words.

Noa wouldn't say he's a jealous man. He isn't the most confident in himself, sure but he does acknowledge his high status. No other ape would dare interfere with the bond you too share, s he never really had any thoughts to worry. Youve been part of the Eagle clan for more than a year now, or that's what you think. You don't really keep track of what day it is. Early winter is just settling in, and you were struggling as any other winter you've faced. Suddenly being insanely envious of the thick coat of fur the rest of the apes had. Over the past year, all the apes have warmed up to you, and have a good idea of echo customs; like freezing your ass off during winter.

You hang out with the sunset trio most days, specifically Noa, him being your mate and all. It was a surprising relationship blossom to say the least. Many were quite uncertain of how the relationship will turn out, but Anaya, Soona and Darr has always been supportive from the start and thats all that mattered to Noa.

You both try and spend as much time with eachother as possible whether is eating, sleeping, annoying him while he works with his owls etc. He loved spending quality time with you, just one on one.

—

“Help… with cold”, Anaya reached out a thick wool blanket for you to take. You took it gratefully wondering how he even got a hold of it. You quickly wrapped yourself around it, feeling bliss of the warmth it gave. You huddled close to the fire, as Anaya sat next to you. “Found when hunting”, He spoke as he chewed an apple, one of his favorite fruits. “Washed already…so not dirty”

“Thanks so much”, You smiled brightly at him. You then stretched your body, feeling the tension on your joints release as you’ve been huddled by the fire for a while. “I wish I had your fur so badly right night”, You whined.

You didn't notice Anaya not answering, as you felt hypnotized from the waves of the fire. You then felt a presence right behind you, then big furry arms go around your shoulders. You turned to see Anaya looking away, chewing his last piece of apple, seemingly nervous. Huffing a smile, you nuzzled up against your best friend.

“What it could feel…to have fur”, Anaya sat behind you, pressing his body against your back.

“You cuddle people for warmth a lot?”, I giggled and looked back to the mesmerizing fireplace.

“Not for warmth…Anaya likes cuddles”.

You felt your heart melt at your friends confession. You knew Anaya doesn't like being alone, and you felt a sort of pride being able to give him comfort. You were proud of the growth with your friendship with him, as he was very hesitant at the start, seeing his first echo and all. You became close friends with the goofball, seeing him as a brother.

A large thump of the ground, snap you out of your thoughts. On your left you saw Noa, staring at the fire irritaded, as Soona sat down right next to him, smiling at you.

Anaya let go of you, and proceeds to go and sit next to Soona. As the two talked, you shimmy your way next to your beloved boyfriend, snuggling close to him, resting your head on his broad shoulders. He put his arm around you, resting his head on to your, but you can tell he still seemed tense.

“Had a bad day?”, You sympathize with him as he's been doing quite a lot of errands for the elders. After his fathers passing, he has been held up doing a ton of eagle work.

He didn't answer, holding your body closer to him. Feeling the closeness gave you butterflies, then a great idea popped in your head.

You picked yourself up a little bit, then plopped down on his lap, resting your head on his chest. He took a second to react, but instantly put his arms around you, holding you nice and tight. He put his head down, nuzzling in your neck, deeply inhaling your scent. You shivered from the tickling sensation, giggling again.

“Noaaa that tickles”, You chuckled at him but you gasped as your body froze when you felt his teeth on your skin. It wasn't a bite, more like a nibble.

Your heart was thumping out of your chest as you looked to your side. Anaya and Soona still seemed to be distracted on whatever conversation they were having. You felt Noa sink his teeth gently in your neck, then licking the teeth mark that lightly showed.

Noa can already smell your arousal and stopped, trying to avoid the others getting suspicious. Noa nodded to the direction of your nest and you quickly understood.

—

“Oh fuck”, your voice muffled from the pillow your face was buried in.

Noa hips clashing into yours, his thick hands on your waist keeping you steady. Feeling your walls moving tightly around his cock, Noa couldnt conceal his groans of pleasure. You gripped the ground under you, then try to prop yourself up, feeling your back aching from the pose.

As you lift you head up, Noas hand covered your mouth, and you didnt have enough time to react as he bite down hard between our neck and shoulder blade, drawing blood. You scream into his hand, tearing up as Noa took his mouth off, licking the blood clean off your shoulder.

“You...are mine”, He grunted, his throbbing cock still thrusting into your puffy hole. “Noa's mate only”, you can feel him kissing the bloody mark, then sucking your neck.

Your tears falling down your face, as you felt your pleasure building up in your stomach, as you felt youself squeeze around him. He groaned from the sudden tightness, sweat falling off his forehead, he pulled you up and he finally climaxed inside you.

You felt his warm pool of cum get burried deep inside you, causing you to reach your high. Noa wrapped his arms around your body, slowly thrusting to ride out his orgasm. You shook in his arms, trying to regulate your breathing as you felt your entire body feel fuzzy and warm.

You rested your head behind you on Noas shoulder, finally able to catch your breath, as Noa slow thrusting came to a stop. You both kept kneeling in that position for a minute until Noa carefully layed you down next to him. He pulled you close, been cautious of the big bite mark, not wanting to cause you anymore pain. You buried your face in his chest and finally exhaling. You felt your mate caressing your hair gently, and exhaled a smile. You closed your eyes, feeling yourself drift off to sleep.

Noa looked at the artwork he made on your shoulder, feeling a sort of guilty pleasure forming around his stomach. He doesn't like hurting you, in fact he hastes it, but you were his and his alone. He knew it was irrational, but he couldn't help the feeling of possessiveness when anyone holds you close. Their face so close to your neck they seemed like they were about to mark you filled him with raging jealousy. Its time for everyone in the clan, including his best friend, to realize you're off limits. Youve been marked by Noa now, and your marked for life.

[bountycancelled]

a pencil, paper and an uncontrollable crush

♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧

opla!luffy x reader

requested: yes (I mixed 2 reqs so idk if that counts but reqs are still open for anyone)

genre: oneshot but in headcanon form? gn! reader, artist! reader

warnings: none, just some fluff!

a/n: I won't be writing as often becusde I'm writing my final rn, also this is short because i have a hard time imagining luffy being romantic so... enjoy!

♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧

now, it doesn't matter how obviously and hopelessly in love you are with Luffy, he's just not going to see it.

he doesn't see you make starry eyes at him, because his eyes are just as starry on a regular basis. when he catches you admiring him, he just assumes that you zoned out. (because he does that alot too)

so when he finds an incredibly detailed sketch of himself laying around on the ship, he excitedly goes from crew member to crew member, asking who drew it.

when he gets to you, notebook and pencil in hand drawing yet another portrait of him, you hang your head in mortification as he marvels at your work.

so imagine his suprise when he snatches that notebook our of your hands with a quickness to see what else you've steched in there, only to find himself on every. single. page.

I swear that his excited screaming is enough to alert other ships at sea of your exact location, but he can't help it, every drawing you've done deserves a reaction that fits how well you did it.

after he finds out about your habit, he starts striking poses for you and holding them right until your last pencil stroke on paper (or until he gets bored/hungry lol)

one night, you get a frantic knock on your door followed by Luffy's muffled voice yelling "are you still awake? I wanna show you something." so you open the door and he shoves a crumpled piece of paper right in your face.

you back up just a little bit and adjust your eyes, and you see a drawing of... some sort of animal? oh, wait nevermind, it's of you.

it's not the most artistically or anatomically sound drawing you've laid your eyes on, but it's... surprisingly detailed. he's drawn on pretty much every single visible scar, mole, freckle and mark, even some that you didn't know you had.

when you question how he managed to be so accurate, he tilts his head, pursing his lips and farrowing his brows in thought before answering. "Well, it wasn't on purpose, but I always look at you when you're around me. you catch my attention, kinda like food does!"

pause.

did Monkey D. Luffy, the strawhat captain, mister gum gum himself, just compare you to food...? moment of silence, because this is so much bigger than all of us.

after hearing this revelation, you cave and plant a quick kiss on his cheek as a thank you (and as a means to let him know of your more than platonic feelings for him), slamming the door in his face before he even has the chance to react.

p.s. Luffy doesn't have any idea why you kissed his cheek, but he knows that it made him feel good, and he wants to get one from you again.

[httpsserene]

ꜱɪɴɢɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜᴏᴡᴇʀ w/ ʟɴ4

📖ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: lando’s usually well spent sunday off with his girlfriend is different this time around. you put off your everything shower and wash-day causing some edits to the usual routine. how the night ends, however, is 100% lando’s fault. 📖ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: fluff/borderline?crack(if u think im funny). one or two mentions of sex, not explicit at all. not edited to beta-read. 📖ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2k words 📖ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: lando norris x black!fem!reader 📖ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: oneshot 📖ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ: singing in the shower ~ becky g

ᴘʀᴇꜰᴀᴄᴇ: preface: hello! it’s late night or early morning for me, i guess, when i’m posting this. i was going to say this is my first rpf ever, but that’s a bold-faced lie ☠️but! it is my first f1 work! i hope you enjoy it! i’d love to have some f1 mutuals out here, if anyone wants <3. also requests are open, just come talk to me and ramble about anything, or any idea you have the f1 boys, i’d love to have some great anons and asks to fulfill. hope you enjoy it :)

it’s a rare sunday where you and lando are both home together. usually you two would take advantage of this and make the most out of it. you’d lay in bed late into the morning with an excessively cuddly boyfriend, cook a nice and healthy brunch together you cook, lando handles the soundtrack and vibes because he loses all coordination in the kitchen, play a co-op video game that you guys have been working your way through for a month, go out on a nice little dinner date, and have great sex before knocking out.

HOWEVER, this week you have kinda forgotten that you need to do your hair. originally you had an appointment that tuesday to get a silk press done with your usual hairstylist, but she canceled on you. once you got that “hey girly...” text you’d known there was no hope of rescheduling, for that week at least. so, you decided to do your own hair sometime later in the week, but your boyfriend was home for the first time after a triple-header, and was a terrible lovely distraction. you also had to work, unfortunately, you had to clean the flat, you had to eat, and you had to breathe—so understandably, you’ve ended up pushing your wash-day/hair-day and everything-shower to the last minute.

you apologized several times to lando during breakfast for your forgetfulness and wasting valuable “boyfriend-girlfriend time” as lando coined. but lando is lando—a sweetheart at his core—so he refused to accept your apologies with an “don’t apologize for something so minor, love,” and even offered to help you tackle the fight you end up almost losing every time…. vs. your hair. 

you kindly denied his assistance knowing damn well that if he was in the shower with you, your hair wouldn’t be done until late that night due to a different type of lando-distraction. you suggested that lando streamed while you were doing your shower and hair, and that you could still go out for dinner that evening. lando was pretty receptive to the idea, especially after he made sure that you were 100% okay with him not helping you do your hair (he usually does, you’ve got him trained pretty good; all he needs is the license at this point), and the fact that it’s been like 3 months since he last streamed.

lando posts that he’s streaming starting at noon, and after a brief make out against the sink post-dishwashing that leaves your lips swollen and head foggy, he goes to take a shower and start setting up his stream equipment. cursing lando’s smug-ass face as he walks away, you let him know that you're stepping out to the beauty supply store to get a few items before you start your little routine and that you might not see him before his stream starts. he does a 180, and rushes back to you from down the hallway to give you one more mind boggling kiss and with a smile says, “text me when you get there and when you’re back. i’ll have my phone on dnd but your messages are set to pass through it, so if you don’t want to be seen on stream today you don’t have to worry about it.” internally, you’re pretty sure your heart just imploded at the mindfulness this boy has—that your boyfriend has. somehow, it still surprises you how mature lando is for how silly he acts most of the time.

“you’re too sweet to me, lan.” you respond with a shy smile, “i probably won’t interrupt you today—i’ll let your delulu fans have custody, and deal with you!” lando throws his head back and does his usual demonic laugh, “hey! my fans are not that delusional, but i am afraid that you’re losing the custody battle!” he kisses you on the cheek, and with that you separate until later that day.

or so you thought. you knew lando’s super sweet behavior was too sus without him being his usual gremlin-self at least once.

when you get back from the beauty supply store (which should’ve been a fifteen-minute trip at most, turned into a near hour after the usual shenanigans you find yourself involved in buying things you don’t need), lando’s already started his stream. you text him letting him know you’re about to hop into the shower, and start heading to en-suite bathroom.

when you open the door, the mirror is slightly covered with remaining steam from lando’s shower, and you can see his clothes hanging half-inside the hamper. which is an improvement from being left on the floor—choose your battles, ladies. but as you move further into the bathroom, setting down your everything-shower supplies, changing into your silk robe and bonnet—you pick up on a lingering scent that should not be present.

your ninety-four fucking dollar scalp revival shampoo.

you’ve had that shampoo since you were seventeen, using it only when extremely necessary. you didn’t even pay for it, it was something your mom bought you as a pretty thoughtful and useful gift after you complained about your scalp suddenly getting super sensitive. it lasted through your senior year of grade school, all of university, and goddamn-it, two boyfriends!!! you let out a bit of an hysterical giggle (seek mental help, babe) and walk to the shower to grab the jar. the problem is: you know there was only probably one more usage left.

turning the cap off, your worst fears are confirmed...it’s…empty. with an anguished cry, you fall to your knees on the tiled floor—it’s like your childhood pet died. you gently set the jar down on the floor, and stare dazedly at the ceiling. what makes it worse is: you know that lando probably didn’t even use it properly. he most likely didn’t even let it sit for the mandatory 15 minutes that all girls do as an excuse to waste more time in the shower, he prob- he probably rinsed it out right after he massaged it in; that thought right there almost had you crying. oh, and what makes it even worse-r , what was a one-use sized amount for you was like, three for lando, so if he used it sparingly, you would’ve at least gotten to cherish it for the last time.

and with that, you rise from the floor, like some sort of re-animated monster—and with a twitching eye, start stomping to lando’s stream room. before you barge in, you remember what you're wearing: a black silk robe, matching bonnet, glasses, and your cute orange shark slides (lando bought them for you, he has a matching pair). you do the mental math of caring about this being on the internet for the rest of your life, but eventually the opportunity of terrorizing lando wins out over whatever a digital footprint is.

the door swings open, and with your shout of, “lando norris!” the pinging of his chat becomes rapid. lando looks wide-eyed at the camera and whispers, “oh fuck.” he half spins in his chair to look at you in the doorway, and is met with a flying shark slide to the neck. “oW! what did i do??” he cries out.

“you used the last of my ONE-HUNDRED DOLLAR shampoo, YOU THIEVING GREMLIN!!!” the chat notifications start cutting each other off with how fast they’re being sent.

“i didn’t use your shampoo??” he says with a bewildered look, clutching the shark slide to his chest. you seethe, “the fucking WOODEN JAR, that you didn’t even have the AUDACITY throw away, and left in the shower?!”

lando pauses, and makes an ‘a-ha’ sort of face goes, “oh, i thought that was conditioner.” you scream again and this time you don’t miss your mark. the remaining shark slide bonks him right on the forehead. “oW, again?!”

“I THOUGHT YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO HAVE GOOD REACTION TIME??!”

“yEAH?! WELL, i didn’t expect  MY GIRLFRIEND to ASSAULT ME with the shark slides that I bought HER!!”

“yEAH?! WELL, i didn’t expect MY BOYFRIEND to waste MY hair products!!”

lando cackles but surrenders, he reaches for you in the doorway and pulls you in between his legs with his hands gripping your hips. 

he pouts, “i’m sorry. i can buy you another batch, if you’d like. if you need it for your shower right now, i can pause the stream and run and go get for you, or get it delivered?” you sigh, looking at his wide blue eyes. you let him stew for a minute, trying to find it in you to remain mad. his thumbs start petting you gently while you think, and he leans his head forward to rest on your tummy.

you sigh again, hand coming up to play with the hairs at the nape of his neck, and cave, “nah..don’t even worry about it. i don’t even need to use it today, i just wanted to remind you to keep your nosy-ass away from my hair products.” he nods against your abdomen, you start to pull away, and he does the same. you lean down and give him a brief peck on the cheek, and turn to exit the room. 

“oh!” you exclaim now in the doorway, one hand on the doorknob, “i love you, even though you steal all my shit.”

lando giggles, cheeks turning a light pink, “i love you, princess,” the simp dripping out of every pore in his body. you point at him, “this is actually a mutually beneficial situation! now, for date night you can take me to the store to buy hair products,” lando’s smile drops, “don’t worry we can get some for you too, curly boy!” lando doesn’t even try to fight it once he sees the borderline manic grin on your face, just begging him to test you one more time. he accepts his face, “yes, love. i can’t wait for tonight, princess.”

he turns back to his stream when the door closes all the way and shakes his head. he claps his hands once, ready to get back into it, but you burst in again,

“and when i get out of that damn shower in an hour—you’re sure as hell gonna help blow dry and flat iron this shit! it’s silk press season, lando norris, we cannot be caught slacking!” you slam the door shut, and leave.

lando just blinks at the camera, mouth slightly open like that one pikachu meme. he briefly reads the chat, trying to recover, and looks at all of the chatters pick on him like he just got called to the dean’s office. some messages start to roll in about him having to end the stream.

he waits to hear the bedroom door shut, and a few more seconds for the shower to start running before he pseudo-whispers into the mic, “don’t worry, chat! she may have said an hour, but we actually have more like three. it’s her ‘everything-shower’, no-way she’ll finish that quickly. she needs an hour just to sing and dance in there before she starts actually doing anything.”

he starts to open a lobby in cod, sending invites to a few of the boys online and his phone starts vibrating on the desk. the chat starts to go wild again, recognizing its the ringtone he set for your messages. his face drops again when he opens your text thread, “oh my god, chat. she heard me, i forgot she pulls up the stream for background noise. i’m screwed.”

yninstagram • 2hrs ago

liked by landonorris, ybfsinstagram, and 123,978 others

yninstagram hairstylist did his thing for silk press season 👅

tagged landonorris

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landonorris can’t even see our faces but you can’t tell we’re both pretty

➥yninstagram pretty gyal takeover

➥user bro 😭 i can’t even call this sassy

➥user he’s just keeping it real with y’all

landonorris i’ll always take care of you like a princess

➥landonorris and one day very soon, forever treat you like a queen

➥ynistagram lan ☹️🥺

➥user proposal hint?!!!

➥user it’s a 4ever thing y’all wouldn’t understand 🥱

➥user i do 🙄 y/n comes home one day every two years and takes care of our eight children

➥user bitch—LMFAOOO

user not her gatekeeping the stylist 😤 not very girl’s girl of her

➥yninstagram he’s booked out for the foreseeable future sorry babe

➥user oh uh. that’s completely understandable. he doesn’t take walk in’s ? 😃

landonorris • 3hrs ago

liked by yninstagram, maxfewtrell, and 2,321,768 others

landonorris you attract what you fear? word, oh no a pretty gyal who lets me do her hair😱 oohhhhh how scaryyy

tagged yninstagram

view comments

yninstagram damn 🥵 she’s pretty fit

yninstagram heard her boyfriend’s finer

➥landonorris shouldn’t listen to gossip, her bf can’t match her beauty by far

➥user now THATS SOME RIZZ i didn’t know he had it in him

carlossainzjr y/nnita keep brainwashing him i’m getting good teasing material

➥ynistagram sí señor, el gusto es mio

➥carlossainzjr aye,lando her spanish is better than yours🤣

➥landonorris my tractor is better than yours, mmm yeah that’s what i thought

➥user DAMN LANDO CHILL

➥yninstagram he will be issuing a formal apology at the paddock next sunday señor sainz

➥user i just KNOW she got him at shark slide-point

© httpsserene 2023

[dusterbishop]

i hear you call my name (and it feels like home)

summary. || three timelines, you have watched remy lebeau die. you didn't believe you would earn a fourth chance to save him until you find a variant with no memory of his past, lost in a void of existence.

pairing. || gambit x f!reader (past relationship with current enemies-to-lovers)

count. || 6.4k

notes. || posted on ao3 here. warning for character death and violence. this is the end! thank you all for the lovely words of support, it means so much that you all loved this duo as much as i do. i have ideas of oneshots for the future, but for now, i leave you all with this!

part one. || part two. || part three. || part four.

Your ears are ringing.

Awareness floods you in slow, uneven strokes. You can hear the roar of battle buzzing through the fog in your mind, guttural screams of pain cutting through in sharp starbursts. There’s a staff in your right hand, and you spasm your grip on it, testing its weight.

It is Remy’s.

Once, that staff had been too heavy for you to properly swing around. He had watched you practice with a pained grimace for a week before he surprised you with your own to train with. The two of you were nothing more than colleagues at that point, simply two mismatched X-Men crossing paths by sheer fate. Until he had handed you your own staff, its weight balanced with delicate perfection in the palm of your hand, and showed you how to use it.

You had never told him that you only used the staff because you could see it in every timeline, a slow conversion of your fighting style across lifetimes. Not every life you lived shared Remy, but his influence still lingered at the edges, seeping in like ink. Fighting with a staff, learning to pick locks, using sleight of hand to swap items from timelines with ease. It was all an extension of your life with Remy. Just echoes, over and over, spreading out in rippling waves.

Echoes, which could never replace the thrill that sparks your attention when a blazing playing card whizzes past your ear. There’s a muffled explosion as the card makes contact with the enemy swinging for your head, and you gracefully sidestep the half-dead man that staggers into a collapsed pile at your feet.

“Watch where you goin’, mon coeur,” Gambit calls. Another whistling hum of kinetic energy, another flash of blazing purple as he throws another card and cuts down another blank faced enemy. The base that Nova commands has a strangely illusive layout, and the war-starved bodies seem like an endless, writhing thing to overcome.

Time is a limited resource, after all. You can taste it just as surely as the blood in the back of your mouth.

“Maybe I’m too distracted watching something else,” you call back. You don’t take the time to see the expression on his face, but you hear his delighted laugh before he starts slinging explosives again. It’s easy to fall into battle. Even easier while you’re wearing your old suit, and the fabric is soft and well-worn just as you remember it. The clothes you wore in the Void were fine for travel, but you felt strangely out of place last night watching Remy adjusting his coat for the upcoming battle.

You are one of the X-Men, technically. It’s been more than a lifetime since you felt like one, but you know their colors and their mission. The suit always did feel more like a formality. There is nothing that could prevent you from fighting for people who cannot protect themselves. Everyone else only has one life, and you have an infinity of them. The gold and blue of your suit is meant to inspire hope for the people you are defending, not to boast about your position, and yet Remy had stuttered mid-sentence when he turned to see you suddenly dressed in your original suit, prepared for battle.

Been a’while since Gambit seen you wit’ those colors. Though, Gambit t’inks you look better out of ‘em, too...

“Pot callin’ the kettle black,” Gambit says. He’s closer, now, as if magnetized to the orbit of your battleground. You smash the skull of a man trying to catch a cheapshot to Gambit’s ribs, and Gambit slips an explosive card into the pocket of the man’s coat for good measure. Briefly, his hand catches the curve of your elbow, brushing his fingers over the pulse-point. Even through the sleeve of your suit, you can almost feel the heat of his skin, searing bone-deep.

“Just calling it as I see it, Cajun,” you say. It doesn’t sound as breathless as you feel. Gambit still has that infuriatingly pleased look on his face, though, so you give him a half-hearted shove with a raised brow. “Save the world, remember?”

“Mais la, all bluff no play,” he complains. “S’il vous plait, mon coeur —”

Time slips.

One moment, you take the chance to catch your breath, falling all-too-easy to the lure of sparring with Remy. The next moment, you’re on the ground. There’s blood beneath you, pooling under your head, dripping from your nose and down to the hard-packed soil.

“Remy,” you choke out. Your ears are ringing with echoes of voices, though you assume it’s across timelines based on the range of emotions. You can hear crying as soul-wrenching as fresh grief, and laughing as bright as bells. It’s like picking up a landline and hearing a conversation you’re only privy to as a passing voyeur.

You blink away some of the dirt and sweat stinging your eyes. You’re still on the ground. Something weighty and warm is settled over your back, tucked into the curve of your sides. The scent of smoke and cologne curls around you as familiar as the back of your hand.

Remy draped his coat over you. You spit a wad of bloodied saliva onto the ground, grimacing at the dark thickness. How long have you been out? You don’t remember charging up to leave the timeline.

Even worse, you don’t remember going anywhere. Time may change around you, but your mind keeps itself sharp with a constant awareness. Even when you would travel time in your sleep, you knew you were moving based on the pressure changing in the air. There had been no pressure change, this time. Only standing with Gambit, teasing him in the way that blazed adrenaline through your veins. Then, it is you laying on the ground, curled up underneath his coat, tasting blood.

You blink again. You think you’re shivering, or maybe you’re trembling, because you aren’t cold. That hazy, all-consuming fever pulses across your skin in waves, burning across your every nerve. It takes effort to turn your head just a fraction, searching the scattered battlefield. You’re still in Nova’s compound. You can see Blade and Elektra distracting any enemy seeking the weaker prey, luring them away from where you lay.

It had taken two more days before you and Gambit had met back up with the resistance. Initially, you had been wary of the strange collection of mutants, reflecting their own suspicion of you back like a mirror image. Yet they had seemed relieved that Gambit was back unharmed.

Now, far past the initial skepticism of your arrival, they treat you with the same consideration they give Gambit.

Though Gambit is… the same, and yet he’s more. The way he fights is far different than the way he did during the days when you both worked with the X-Men. He doesn’t linger near the boundaries of the fight anymore. You used to breathe easier knowing he had been prowling the edges of a fight with his cards at the ready, always protecting your back.

Now, when he fights in the Void, he storms the battlefield as a raging violet-blaze tempest. You find him easily through the crowded clusters of skirmishes, his staff humming with kinetic charge. He wields a handful of cards with careful scarcity, and you know it’s because you have his coat draped over you, holding all of his extra ammo.

He is going to get himself killed.

That thought propels you into motion. Your arms tremble as you push yourself to sit up, the back of your mouth filling with blood and nauseating saliva. It hurts to breathe. It feels like there is a shard of glass lodged in your ribs, cutting up your insides. The only blood you can sense is the slow drip from your lips, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t damage you can’t see yet. Something in your being is dismantling in slow, even strokes, cast adrift from the timelines and stranded in the Void.

One of Nova’s henchmen gets too close to Remy and sideswipes him. The soft-muted grunt of pain from Remy sends a chilling lance of fear through your gut, though before you can move, Remy is already turning and taking down the enemy with a swift twirl of his staff.

They are going to kill him if you don’t get him out. You know it, and it hurts so much to move, but you push yourself to your feet with a strangled whine of frustration. Of all the times for your body to fail you, it has to be now, when Remy is exposed to an entire base of people trying to kill him.

His coat is a familiar weight over your shoulders, but that doesn’t quell the violent shiver that runs through you. Neither does it stop the sudden rush of dizzying pain, or the way you have to hunch over and spit out blood onto the dirt. No time. You don’t have any time.

“Remy,” you call out. You fumble to wipe away the blood dripping down your chin just as he turns at the sound of your voice, his face bright with relief. He doesn’t notice the blood. He moves quickly through the battlefield nonetheless, wrapping an arm over the shuddering arch of your shoulders.

“ Mon coeur,” he says, and he must see something in your face that makes him hesitate. “Enjoy your nap, chér ?”

You suck in a sharp breath. It’s always ‘chér ’ when he doesn’t know which version you are.

“Still with you, LeBeau,” you tell him. Your hand reaches up to cradle the curve of his jaw. He’s buzzing with energy beneath your touch, but it’s the simmering fire in his eyes as he gazes back at you that makes you feel set alight.

“Wanna play?” He says softly. One arm is still slung protectively over your back, but he uses his free hand to fasten his coat tighter over your shoulders, his hand lingering at the vulnerable curve of your throat. “I deal you in, mon coeur.”

You’re reluctant to let him go, so you pull him in and press a chaste kiss to his mouth. You don’t let him go deeper than that so he doesn’t taste the blood, even if there’s a savage wanting in your gut to sink deep into his embrace and never resurface. It’s not fair, you think, that you finally found him only to lose him all over again.

“Deal me in, Cajun,” you whisper to him. His fingers drop from the hollow of your collarbone to the seam of his coat sleeve, drawing a card. He flickers it between his fingers to show you his dealt hand — the ace of hearts — before it disappears into the nothingness of time. You let Remy press another kiss to your mouth, and you have to close your eyes to fight back the burn of tears. Even with your eyes closed, you can hear the hoarseness in his voice when he pulls back.

"You an' me, chér, couple'a aces, non?" 

You have to turn your head to hide a sad smile. "A matched pair."

Like that, the two of you separate. He goes into the fray of battle, the air whirring violently with charged energy, and you step back into the shadow, pulling your ace of hearts from the timeline. You have caught nothing but glimpses of Nova since you arrived, but you can feel her presence at the edges of your mind, probing for weakness. 

So you look weak. It’s easy to slouch against the wall, your breathing coming in labored pants, the sleeve of your X-Men suit streaked red with the blood you keep wiping from your chin. Hurt prey is weaker, after all. You know what she must see when she sees you so far from Remy’s orbit: an injured fawn ripened for the kill.

“Don’ ya leave now, the fun just startin’,” Remy laughs. He sweeps his staff in a wide arc, warding off the enemies crowding closer to his position, but he only has eyes for you. He’s watching you, and you know the moment she arrives by the way his eyes harden with venomous hatred.

“Indeed,” Nova says. Her presence is a sudden, harsh strike to your mind. You have to grit your teeth to muffle your shocked gasp. Her hand is lax around your throat, but you are all too aware of the hand gently caressing the back of your skull. You can hear the smile in her voice when she whispers in your ear, “I’ve never seen something like you.”

“Took the words right out of my mouth,” you say. The air whirs in quiet contention around you,  but you’re more focused on the card still clutched in your hand. Come on, come on...

“You’re a little wanderer, aren’t you,” she muses. She runs her fingers through the locks of your hair with gentle fingertips, and it takes all of your self control not to spasm and jolt out of her touch. You clench your empty hands tightly, instead, and try not to stare at Remy when he suddenly tucks his hand into a tight fist, purple light buzzing ravenously through the tight clench of his fingers.

“What are you doing running with the swamp rats, hm?” Nova strokes your head again. “You don’t seem like one of their merry band of misfits.”

Remy makes an indignant sound at that, and just as Nova looks to him, the light in his hand dies to nothingness.

“His name is Gambit,” you say. The playing card in your hand whirs with pitched fervor. Almost there. “Make sure you remember that.”

Time condenses to your will, and you’re looking right at Remy when the ace of hearts detonates, rippling a shockwave through you and Nova. Kinetic energy consumes you in a wildfire, burning through the flesh of your body with fervent hunger. You see the ache of distraught cross his face, and then there is only the movement of timelines shifting in place, carrying you through lifetimes, blurring the world around you into a wash of muddled watercolors.

When you blink, the world rights itself.

When you breathe in, settling back into a body escaped unharmed, you see Remy fall.

“No!” You shout. Or perhaps it is a whisper. Or perhaps it is spread across every timeline, every particle of your being spread thin and calling out in pained fury. You aren’t sure of anything except the way Remy twists, losing grip of his staff, and collapsing to the ground.

A wordless scream of rage tears through you. You can hear its echo filling the air as you yank time into a heel, drawing yourself across the expanse of the field in moments. You aren’t sure where the others are, or if Nova truly perished in the kinetic explosion as you intended. All you can see is Remy, lying in motionless rigor, and the man that took the shot that put him down.

Time scrambles in your mind, but you reach your destination faster than the man can draw his weapon at you. Your hands take his head in a vice grip, the tips of your gloved fingers digging harshly into his dirt-streaked skin.

“How dare you,” you snarl. If you had the chance, you would tear him through time until he disintegrated. You break his neck instead, the sickening crack of his bone fading from your attention the moment you feel his body slip from your grasp. You don’t manipulate time to fall to your knees by Remy’s side, but the space between movements is a blur you don’t care to investigate.

“Remy,” you half-sob. You reach out and grasp his shoulder, turning him over onto his back, and nearly sob again in relief when you see him squinting back at you with dazed annoyance.

“Lucky strike,” he mutters. Your hand flutters down to brush against his side, your heart seizing at the grimace on his face. The warmth of blood against your fingers spreads a numbness through your gut. You only press your hand firmly to the wound, gritting your teeth against the roaring fury building in your throat.

“What happened to ‘the house always wins’?” You snap at him instead. The blood is sticky and warm, and it won’t be staunched by the pressure of your hand alone. He’s going to bleed out.

“Raising the bet,” Remy grunts. There’s a sheen of sweat across his brow, but it’s the ashen pallor of his skin that makes your chest tighten with panic. God, you’re going to lose him.

“I hate you,” you whisper. You hate the Void. You hate Nova, and her violent-driven henchmen. You hate yourself, most of all, for doing this to him. For not being able to do more.

“Tha’ sounds more like love than hate, mon coeur.”

“Just playing the odds,” you bite out. He blinks at you, sluggish, and you realize exactly what you have to do. It’s the only thing you can do for him. You draw your hand back from his side and try not to gag on the smell of it permeating the air. There’s a steady puddle beneath him, soaking the knees of your suit, but you hardly feel it. You can’t feel anything at all, in fact.

Just that whirring buzz of time, and the slowly approaching footsteps of Cassandra Nova coming up behind you.

“Go ahead, Remy,” you breathe. The timeline whirs to life beneath your palms, a composed symphony to the crackling buzz of kinetic energy. You cup his face, thumbs smoothing away the dust beneath his blackened eyes, and you will him to live.

He reaches up to try and catch your wrists. There’s that furrow in his brow, again, like he’s preparing to curse you out for this. He’s a pulsing livewire of humming energy in your hands, simmering with an explosive potential. If he stays here, he will be nothing more than a husk. Dying like a goddamn hero, slaughtered like a martyr upon the altar, just to give you the chance to take down Nova.

So you imagine him at your apartment, in your bed, instead. Tucked under the blankets, his hair mussed from sleep. Figaro curled up on his chest, purring his strange rattling hum, the other two boys stretched out beside him. The world is quiet, and safe. Nothing is there to hurt him.

The timeline sings in your hands. You want to kiss him, but you don’t. Kissing him will feel like goodbye, and you don’t think you could bear the thought of it, not right now. Not before you finish taking down Nova.

Your gaze locks with his. You can see the moment he realizes that you aren’t going with him. The annoyance at being forced to take the retreat cracks out of his expression with sharp, desperate panic. His hands nearly catch you at the wrist, his fingertips brushing against the sleeve of your coat, but then he’s gone. You stare down at the dirt where he once was, fighting to keep your breathing steady. He’s safe.

At least, you tell yourself, one of you made it home.

Yet it still feels like a gaping wound in your side. You betrayed him to save him.

“Touching,” Nova remarks. You can’t bring yourself to move. You’re still kneeling in the remains of Remy’s blood when she strikes you.

The world flickers in and out of focus, spinning in rampant circles. Distantly, you’re aware of your legs kicking weakly in the air, your hands scrabbling desperately at your throat to ease the choking grip she has you in. Except she isn’t touching you, not with her hands.

No, she’s standing just out of arm's reach, smiling like a sphynx.

“I have seen so many variants,” she says idly. You’re choking on nothing, fighting the headache rending through your temples. “There’s been some Jean Grays, a few Rogues. More than a few Gambits. Many, many Deadpools.”

“And yet,” she continues. “I have never found more than one of you.”

The release of the grip she has on your throat makes you gasp out a cry, sucking in air with deep, hoarse wheezing. You hardly feel the impact of your body collapsing to the ground, too relieved in the taste of air. You rub at your throat with shaking fingers, trying to erase the feeling of her grip crushing your windpipe.

“That isn’t the strangest part, however.”

You know where this is going. You close your eyes.

“I could feel you,” she shifts closer to you, but you don’t have the energy to flinch and create distance between the two of you. “In your mind, you are nothing but fragments.”

“Wayfarer,” you whisper. It comes out in a croak, but you are far beyond caring. “I am everywhere and everything.”

“Broken,” she agrees. You open your eyes at that. She looks vindicated, as if admitting your ability has only made you weaker. You suppose, hunched over and wheezing, you don’t look as threatening as you used to during your X-Men days. You must look like nothing but bleeding prey.

Good, you think. You smile at her with bloodied teeth. “Broken things are meant to hurt, you know.”

Like shuffling a deck of cards, you let time flutter through your hands, staggering into a timeline version of yourself where you can breathe without choking. Your body follows the commands of your mind with elegant obedience.

Your hands meet their mark, and latch onto Nova tight enough to turn your knuckles pale. The pair of playing cards pressed against each of your palms sizzle with hunger where they make contact with her body.

Pain lances through your skull, exploding into brilliant light behind your eyes. You think your hands are still clutching onto Nova, but you cannot feel them. The world is bright violet, time shuffling with a charged whir. The kinetic energy ripples down your hands in great, staggering waves, a faint prickle of pain among the agony of time rendering itself apart around you.

Nova is screaming. Distantly, you feel her hands pulling at you, yanking at the lapels of Remy’s coat, hitting your face. She must be trying to delve into your mind. She cannot catch you, though. You are plummeting through every timeline, shuffling from one version of yourself to the next, then the next, then the next. Over and over. Over, and over, and over.

Shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull — 

You think you let go of her.

— shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull — 

No, it’s not your hands that have let go. Your arms are shuddering through time, but your hands keep locked onto her, holding her steady, burning violet. You haven’t let her go, but your body is being torn into pieces.

— shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull — 

Nova isn’t screaming anymore.

— shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull — 

You are.

— shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull — 

You can’t hear it over the roaring of time rushing through you, but you can feel your throat blazing, screaming through every timeline, every version of yourself. This must be what dying feels like. It is infinite across all time. There is no other way out.

— shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull — 

Her body dissolves with slow tendrils of violet light creeping beneath the exposed flesh, tracing whirls with the lines of her veins and arteries. It consumes her from the inside, spreading out with a meticulous, parasitic intensity.

— shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull — 

Remy’s power consumes you, too. You see the light creep up your wrists, then your arms, then your shoulders. You can feel its warmth down to your bones. It almost feels, strangely, like it’s him hugging you. It feels like it did last night, tangled in his arms beneath the sheets, your ear pressed to his chest to listen to the rhythm of his heart.

— shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull — 

You wonder, distantly, if his power is trying to keep your body together. The charge of kinetic energy is concentrated in your hands, but you can still feel the heat of it pooling in the pit of your stomach and scorching the back of your mouth. Remy had been dismissive when you asked him what it felt like to charge something, though you figure he had been exasperated by your own explanation of your ability. You doubt he would have known what it felt like to be torn asunder with only the kinetic lightning crackling through him.

— shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull — 

You think about Remy, for a moment. You think about the apartment that you both signed the lease on, furnished with a thief’s eye of luxury, cluttered with the little bits of memorabilia and creature comforts you curated over the years. You think about the cats that Remy dotes on, your own cats by marriage, all curled up in their favorite spots around the two of you. You think about the couch that you had teased Remy about for the price, only for him to turn around and gloat about the amount of naps you took on it. You think about the movie nights with you two intertwined on that couch, the cats pressed into your sides, the room dim-lit and safe.

— shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull — 

You think about how you would like to do that, again. To be able to sit on the couch with your husband and watch a movie. To be with Remy, and not be caught in this web of unraveling agony.

— shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull — 

Like a loose thread, you unravel.

Shuffle.

It starts in your hands, with your fingertips, and it spreads from there.

Draw.

Your eyesight goes last.

Pull.

You see Remy in every lifetime, looking at you, his outline glimmering with that kinetic violet light. His mouth is moving. It almost looks like your name.

Shuffle…

Nothing comes to your mind. Everything comes into pitch black.

Shuffle…

Your hands are empty.

Shuffle…

Time is empty, now absent when it once was vast. You had been infinite, once. Like time, you had been endless.

Shuffle…

You had been lost before you knew what it felt like to be seen. You could never be sure what timeline was originally yours before you switched them. Even the smallest of details could escape your attention if you weren’t looking for it. At a certain point, you realized you had to choose a life to claim as yours and stop wandering. Even a Wayfarer needed an anchor to call home for when it was time to rest.

Draw.

You had wandered for a long time. Years, perhaps, though your physical bodies changed shape and form in ways you couldn’t predict. The face in the mirror had never been home, anyway. There were too many genetic variables to each timeline to preserve the way you looked. Your body was merely a temporary housing for your time-stepping mind. A body was not an anchor. It was simply a tool to be used and discarded.

Pull.

An anchor needs to be constant. It needs to be something that will not retreat when time grows teeth and begins to hurt. It needs to be loyal to the cause. It needs to be kind, deep down, even if the surface is skin-deep careless. It needs to make you feel safe.

It’s… warm. Soft.

You bury your face deeper into the pillow with a long, blissful sigh. You will never regret insisting that you splurge and spend the extra money on a memory foam mattress. It feels like floating in the clouds.

A soft, questioning mmrph rumbles next to your ear. It’s your only warning before a small, wet nose presses to your temple. You know it’s Oliver by the way he starts to knead at the pillow next to your head, purring a roaring chorus. There’s another weight on your legs, pinning them down, and a third is nestled into your side. Remy must be up, already, if they’re all stuck to you for warmth.

“Did your father abandon us again, boys?” You mumble sleepily. Oliver purrs louder at the sound of your voice. You can feel the weight on your legs shift, no doubt being that it’s Lucifer standing up to stretch before he starts to walk up the length of your body. He’s purring, too, though he resettles on the spot between your shoulder blades, the hum of his purr radiating across your back. Figaro doesn’t grace you with an acknowledgement, but neither does he unfurl himself from his spot next to your side.

Warm, soft, and safely nestled amongst your cats. It’s nearly heaven. You end up half-dozing back off, lulled to sleep by the purring next to your ear. You feel like you haven’t slept in a lifetime.

You don’t hear the door open, though you know something is wrong by the way Figaro leaps to attention and Oliver’s purr stutters to a stop.

When you open your eyes, it’s half-lit by the morning sun. It must be closer to noon than the time that you usually wake to train. Any trace of lingering sleep drifts away when the bedroom door creeps open with its usual squall of hinges.

You smile and twist to look over your shoulder, dislodging Lucifer despite his soft sound of discontent, and yawn, “Morning. I think.”

Remy is posed in the doorway. Your next words die in your throat as you see the look on his face, the staff still gripped tightly in his hand. He’s dressed in his usual armor, not his civilian clothing like you expected. His hair is longer, tied back carelessly from his face, flyaway strands curling around his temples. His eyes are near-black, both through his irises and the dark shadows collecting beneath them.

He looks like he has spent years surviving an apocalypse.

“Jesus, Remy,” you breathe. You’re sitting up in an instant, one hand out reaching towards him. His armor is dust-streaked and worn from battle. “Are you hurt?”

“Where’d you go, chér?” He rasps. His face is still utterly, terrifyingly still. You have never seen him at the brink of collapse like this, before. He looks like he wants to step further in the room, his hand twitching with a nervous tic of adrenaline, but he stays stock-still. Waiting for you.

“Nowhere,” you say softly. “I’ve been in bed with the boys, love.”

You have to resist the urge to spring out of bed and run your hands along his body to look for any sign of injury. You aren’t entirely sure what’s gotten into him, but if he’s hallucinating or delirious, you should probably reach out to the other X-Men. Maybe the professor would know why Remy’s in full gear and looking battle-worn at this hour. Why would he go without waking you first?

Remy wavers. He looks heartsick. “Don’ lie t’me, chér.”

“Never,” you agree. You offer the spot next to you in bed with a half-pleading, half-alluring gesture. “Come here. You look like hell, Remy.”

“You…” he starts, then stops. Abruptly, he drops his staff with a rattling thud. Within three strides, he’s in your arms, melting into your embrace. You clutch at him just as fiercely, burying your nose into the crown of his hair. He smells like smoke and dust, but there’s no indication of blood and pain. He simply sags in your grip, his breathing quick and unsteady against your collarbone. His fingers curl weakly into the back of your nightshirt, as if that’s all the strength he can muster.

He’s mumbling, even with his face pressed tightly to the curve of your throat, but you can’t make out much more than your name, over and over.

“Shh, Remy, I’m right here with you,” you whisper against his crown. With a free hand, you reach up to pull out the elastic band holding up his hair, letting it fall in uneven waves. When was the last time he took care of himself? Your Remy loved to indulge in fine-smelling soaps and lavish hair routines, surrounding himself in a luxury he earned himself. His appearance was just as much armor as his coat was. You had never been fooled by his demeanor: his weapon of charm was just as sharply honed as his weapon of playing cards.

Yet it’s the length of his hair that sours the back of your throat with nausea. You run your fingers through it, slowly massaging his scalp in the way that makes him pliant and sleepy. It’s not that you haven’t seen Remy with long hair before; it’s simply the fact that you haven’t seen him with long hair in years. Just last night, his hair had been just long enough to curl at the nape of his neck. You had run your fingers through it and mentioned a haircut, and he had been a deadweight in your lap, humming sleepily in acknowledgement.

You swallow thickly. Either this is not the same Remy you went to sleep next to the night before… or you are missing time.

“You should take a bath, love,” you murmur, gently scratching his scalp. You can feel smudged wetness on the collar of your nightshirt from tears, though he hasn’t made a sound other than a few deep, unsteady breaths. Back when you first got together during missions, the shower was the first place you two could unwind and start to sort through your fading adrenaline rush.

He pulls back from your embrace, just a little, and every word of encouragement dies in your throat at the look on his face. Rage. Betrayal.

Heartbreak.

“You been gon’ awhile, chér,” he says. It’s not an accusation, but there’s a simmering anger beneath that matter-of-fact tone. It’s always ‘chér’ when he doesn’t know which version you are. His eyes burn through you, intent on stripping you raw. You wonder what answers he could possibly expect from you. If it’s answers he wants at all, or rather an apology.

You have to offer him something.

“I —”

“Gambit go lookin’ for you,” he laughs, mirthless. “Got him spending two years lookin’ and you jus’ show up in bed. Like nothin’ happen.”

Two years. There’s a small itch in the back of your mind, like the whisper of a memory raking its claws down your back. There had been an unraveling. Utter destruction. Then it had been you here, you waking up in bed as if nothing had happened.

You blink back at him, struck speechless. You don’t have to offer a word, though, because there’s true anger in his eyes, now.

“I go to de Void,” he says. “I t’ink that’s what it was. Nothin’ left there. Dere’s no life around, hein? Mais, non, not even my wife, only the dead. Ev’rybody dead.”

 His eyes close as if he can ward away the images tormenting his memories. You’re grateful that he can’t see the way your face crumples at that. He went back for you. He had survived the wound, and he found a way back to come for you.

And he had found nothing but death.

“You’re such an idiot,” you choke out. His eyes snap open at that, but you merely cup his face in your hands and draw him in to bump your forehead against his, sucking in a shuddering breath. He is warm and alive under your touch. You didn’t think you could touch him like this again when Nova had been standing above you, prepared to tear you in shreds. “I sent you ahead, but I was coming with you.”

“We stay together,” he tells you. There’s a strain in his voice just as painful as yours, but the way he reaches up to swipe away a stray tear from your cheek with his thumb is careful. As if he’s marveling that he has the chance to touch you at all. “Mais la, don’ tell Gambit he wrote up those vows for nothin’, Mrs. LeBeau.”

“Matched pair,” you whisper back.

“Couple’a aces,” he agrees, and he kisses you just as gently as he wiped away your tears, as if you have all the time in the world.

[gourmetjello]

könig x reader : used

i’m sorry if könig is getting repetitive ahaha who else would you guys like to see ? ♡( ◡‿◡ ) and huge thank you to everyone that likes and reads my posts! and my wonderful mutuals! and thank you for the kind words, they really made my day <3

as usual -> 2nd person pov (i’m finally trying it out!! eek!!) & english isn’t my first language. i know i said that this will be a fluff but gosh — i’m a simple woman, i have a little thought about angst and i have to write it. sorry!! i hope you’ll still like it though!

i know i’ve written about young könig in the military but i just had this idea and i have to write an oneshot about his last few days back at home!

—

you knew the tall, silent guy in your class was trouble.

at a point you even started to wonder who he really was, you just kept defending his name in the student council every week — for example when the teachers made you guys gather in that tiny fucking classroom, room 9 because according to a few girls, he brought a gun to school. you obviously had to save your own classmate as much as you could, there was no way you would ever admit that this dude really did have that piece of black metal thrown into his bag. it had slipped between two books, crinkling them and making the corners slightly dark grey as it brushed against the pages.

the only reason you remembered that in so much detail was because he showed it to you. he was smiling like a kid in a candy store, raising his dark green school bag and unzipping it, showing you the gun that was in there. it was familiar, the knot in your stomach was always apparent whenever he talked about his weapons and the shooting club. you were nervous and scared of the whole thing, yet it felt nice when you guys were alone, out in the woods and he had his steady hand on top of your shaky one, your index finger trembling against the trigger as he whispered encouraging words into your ear.

but at school — you couldn’t just tell him ‘gosh, könig, what the fuck are you doing again?’ because who knows what kind of reaction that would get out of him, right?

the only reason he didn’t get kicked out of the school in that instant was because you somehow convinced the other student council members and the principal that he didn’t even think about bringing something like that to school. he didn’t have any reason to, he was a quiet kid and everyone knows that people like that can’t really cause any kind of harm to anyone, plus being part of a shooting club didn’t mean that they wanted to cause a shooting or hunt people down. you hoped they would take the bait and you had your fingers crossed under the table that he would get out of this whole situation with just a warning or two.

you still remember the night after that. it was so cold outside but fortuna still helped you out a little bit by making it at least dry outside. even though it wasn’t snowing nor raining, it still felt like you would have at least deserved an umbrella to save you from the rain of hushed apologies between desperate kisses. you tried letting him know how much trouble he got himself into but he always silenced you with his lips. they were warm against your purple and cold ones and they gave you some kind of comfort that you had been longing for.

“i’m sorry- i’m so sorry. f-fuck, i’m so..”

he whispered. his sounds were echoing in your head and you felt like you totally lost your common sense, it was like there was nothing in your head. all you could think about how much you wanted him to keep muttering those empty, yet honest-sounding apologies right into your ear. “i won’t do it again. i won’t, i just-“ könig really had the audacity to try to explain himself after all of this, but instead of finding an actual answer to all of your questions and concerns he just lowered himself even more to your level and he gently wrapped his arms around your neck, pulling you closer.

“what are you wearing again..?” you asked quietly, not quite seeing what he had on in the darkness but the sound of cotton brushing against your thick winter jacket wasn’t lying to you. “you’re so stupid. you’re so dumb, könig, you’re going to get sick, and..”

“i know. i know, i know. i know i’m dumb.” he chanted against your skin. his tone was desperate and it was like he was fully aware of how fucking pathetic he was in that moment but he didn’t care. “i’m so stupid. i know.”

standing in front of the mirror after nights like that was always the worst feeling. the whole house was silent and dark, but you had every light flicked on in the bathroom and you kept examining every single rushed and faint little hickey he gave you. you rubbed some kind of cream over all of them, praying that they would disappear or at least lighten up even more overnight. if your mother knew what kind of things you were doing when you were out, she would have kicked you out in a heartbeat.

you couldn’t even deny it, even though you liked the way he made you finally feel alive after spending so many years just reading in bed at home, you felt used. he made a new painting of a dark red sunrise or a light purple sunset over your neck every time you met up with him, and it felt like he was doing nothing but putting the smallest band-aids on your broken bones — but you were rubbing and bandaging up his smallest little scratches with so much love.

and when you felt like you were finally getting a breath of fresh air, the next student council meeting came and he somehow never failed to cause yet another disappointment.

it was nighttime again and the only thing you could hear was the sound the snow made when you stepped on top of it. it was as fresh as it could get, it had just stopped snowing earlier that night and the whole city was painted with a thick, sickening and tiring layer of white. the forest was almost completely untouched, your footsteps were the only ones next to another thin trail made by someone with absolutely huge feet. you could have already guessed that it was könig that arrived earlier this time.

a few minutes later you were already walking beside him, both of your hands tucked into the pockets of your jacket. your fingers were freezing off even when you wore your warm, knit gloves. it was basically torture being out around this time and in this kind of weather, and if it wasn’t for könig, you would have never even thought of stepping your foot outside.

“you didn’t even do anything this week. as far as i know.” you mumbled as he was too silent. you had no idea what was up with him but whenever you were around he just simply wasn’t able to shut up, showing the complete opposite of what he was like in school. “what’s the deal with you calling me here then?”

silence.

“you missed that spot.”

“what?”

“behind your ear.”

“what are you talking ab-“

“i gave you a hickey behind your ear. two days ago. like, right here. and it was raining and you said that-“

you immediately tucked your hair behind your ear, rushing to run your hand over the wound on your skin, but you couldn’t really feel anything except for a small little roughness — signaling that there really was a hickey there. your heart started beating right in your throat, maybe that was why your mom didn’t want to speak with you at the dinner table last night. and that was why so many girls looked at you weirdly in the hallway. and it caused so many things, that stupid little hickey that-

“can i please suck on it again.”

it seemed like he wanted that to be a question, yet it sounded like a statement.

“excuse me?”

“please.”

the second he said ‘please’ he already had you pinned against a thick and dark tree, you were gasping as he obviously couldn’t just stop at that one little spot behind your ear. you saw your own breath fly away like it was smoke, and for the first time in your lifetime you wished that könig would give you one of his precious sticks of cheap rolled cigarettes. you have never smoked before, you had no idea how a lighter worked but you just craved something to make you feel alive again — because the way he was sucking your skin like a madman was now getting old once you realized why he was doing it. you were convinced that this whole thing was only to always get out of things in school.

while he was working his wonders around your neck, all you could think about was that how he could look you in the eyes like you were the prettiest creature, the most beautiful person ever on this whole world. his blue eyes could speak way more words than his lips could ever form, but the next second you already felt like you were some kind of tool he just used when he felt like he was in trouble.

“schatzi.”

he stopped for a second and pulled away from you. he had that goddman look in his eyes again. fuck.

“i’m leaving tomorrow, i’m already packed and things like that.”

“oh, are you going on vacation? where?”

“hm? no. i volunteered and i got accepted into the military.”

“what?”

“yeah.”

silence was the only thing that filled the air after that. he didn’t dare kiss you again or pepper your face with his soft and sloppy pecks once again. he kind of turned away from you, not daring to look you in the eye as your face displaying all kinds of emotions in the span of like five or six seconds. it was like everything went black for some time and the next thing you remember was that he clicked his almost empy, plastic lighter on.

könig gently pulled you closer to himself, placing the cigarette between his index and middle finger. he then softly placed it over your lips and you took a drag from that stupid little thing in his hands. what you were thinking about just a few minutes ago quite literally happened.

“are you even sad?”

“me..? m-m.” you shook your head gently, hanging it low so you couldn’t see anything but the white snow under your boots that were already soaked through.

you tried to act tough but your throat was closing up and your stomach was in knots. you felt like crying but you knew the tears would freeze onto your face, maybe even turn into snow dust or something silly like that. coldness ran through your body, despite being in your thick winter jacket. it was like you have been snapped in half and the only things you could get out of your mouth werre two short little gasps as you exhaled the smoke.

“yeah. good.” he mumbled.

—

i’m sorry if this one was a little shorter! i was quite tired after practice today but i still wanted to whip something up with this little idea i had. thank you for the support that i received on my other two oneshots and please feel free to share your ideas with me if you want me to write about something!!

also i hope i’m doing an okay job at writing about könig’s personality. i don’t want to make him into a huge baby like others do because i know that it’s far from reality (however sometimes that can be comforting too, i know!) and i’ve been trying to make it a tad realistic. ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡

thank you for everything and good night!

[ashdreams2023]

Hi there! May I please request a Loki x reader oneshot where the reader is on her period and she’s upset and stressed so she accidentally lashes out at Loki then feels really bad but he knew the whole time she’s just upset so he calms her down and takes care of her? (sorry if that random and weird lol). thank you 🫶🏻

Not at all and sorry for the delay

Loki x fem reader

I’m sorry

Everyone was so damn loud, ever since the morning, closing and opening of doors, people talking outside your bedroom, things moving and the curtains couldn’t close tight enough so you could sleep properly.

Then they had the bright idea to go on a sudden trip to France and you couldn’t go because your dumb cramps were too bad you couldn’t leave the bed, let alone travel.

So your mood was not it to say the least.

At around dawn you finally got yourself out of bed in need of a new pad and went into the kitchen, the fridge had some leftovers from when Sam made lunch and some cold waffles from the morning.

You made yourself a warm cup of tea and sat miserably alone at the dining table trying to force some plain rice into your mouth.

After a few minutes of silence the door slid open and comes in Loki strutting on, the same Loki who you hadn’t seen since last fucking night, the same one who left the window slightly open before leaving!

"Bloody hell you’re sweating like you’ve ran a marathon-"

And that sentence right there was the hair that broke the camels head.

"You’re one to talk mr freeze! Mr I wash my hair everyday but it still looks greasy like you’ve jumped into a pool of oil!" You snaped smacking your spoon onto the table and storming off back to your room.

Your head felt too foggy at that moment and the second your head hit the pillow you started balling your eyes out.

Loki followed you shortly after, he stood by the door for a few seconds before walking to you on the bed and pulling you by your arms off the bed and into his arms.

"No! I’m…I’m so mean! I shouldn’t have said that I’m such a bitch oh my god!" You kept crying and groaning in discomfort.

"Shhh…you daft girl stop apologizing, I know you’ve having a hard day" he extended his hand and made small fireworks appear in his palm, your eyes watched the colorful lights for a long minute silently, feeling a tad silly for it to be the reason you calmed down.

Loki pinched your cheek teasingly before kissing your forehead and once again telling you he’s not upset about your outburst and that he heard worse.

"…why didn’t you go with everyone?" You asked having his hand laying on your stomaching like a heating pad.

"And leave you all alone to suffer? I am a prince and I know not to leave a maiden in distress" he smirked down at you.

Your lips parted slightly before you giggled breathlessly and pulled him down for a kiss.

[vanishxcanvas]

Possessive

Noah Sebastian x Reader

Oneshot / Imagine

Content Warning: Angst, Smut, Fluff. 18+ only. Vampire!Noah, Possessive!Noah. Mentions of biting, turning the reader, unprotected p/v sex.

Background - Noah gets jealous when reader talks to one of his friends at an event they're attending, when they arrive home, he decides to mark his territory: turning his lover into a vampire.

You were still getting used to the whole vampire thing. Even though you wouldn’t mind being one yourself.

After all, you are a night person.

Tonight though, you and Noah had to go to some event that was important. He wanted you to go with him, even though you didn't really feel like going.

You decided to wear something a little more revealing than something you’d usually wear. Noah didn’t like this one bit.

“Go change. Not a chance you’re wearing that.” He demands.

“No. You can’t make me.” You sass back at him.

He raises his eyebrows. “You sure about that love?”

“Positive.” You say, smirking. Placing your hand on his chest.

“Fine. Keep it on then. See what happens.” He says.

You bat your eyelashes at him. “Gladly, sir.”

He places a hand on your wrist. “Watch yourself.”

“No promises.” You reply.

He glares at you before dragging you out of the house.

Once you get to the event, you and Noah get separated as someone he knew dragged him to a different room. But he could still see you from where he was.

You decide to piss Noah off, and talk to a guy that was near you. When Noah saw this, he was fuming inside.

Deciding to push things further, you push your chest together so more cleavage was showing. The guy you were talking to noticed this, and asked if you if you wanted to go somewhere else.

Noah unfortunately heard this, and was dragging you out of the place in an instant.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you were fucking doing.” He scolds you.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You reply.

His eyes turn a dark red as you say this.

“Oh baby, you’re going to regret that.” He says.

“I’m not scared of you.” You say.

He raises an eyebrow, and starts to back out of the driveway. While he’s driving, he has one of his hands settled on your thigh.

Once you’re both home, he pins you against the wall.

“I warned you. You’re mine, and only mine. Forever.” He growls in your ear.

“Mark me then. Make me yours. Turn me.” You suggest.

“Fuck. I will. You’re mine, and forever will be.” He says, before kissing down your neck. He bites just enough to leave hickeys there, too.

“Noah,” You breathe out.

“What is it, my sweet love?” He asks, leaving kisses on your collarbone.

“Can we move this to our bedroom please?” You ask.

He smirks, and picks you up, carrying you to the bedroom.

Throwing you on the bed, he crawls on top of you. Kissing down your body, he removes your clothes as he does this.

He leaves hickeys down your body as well, to make sure everyone knows you’re his. And only his.

“Baby.” He asks.

Lifting your head up, you look at him. “Yes?”

“Are you sure you want me to turn you?” He asks.

“Yes I’m sure. I wouldn’t have suggested it if I weren’t.” You reply.

“I just needed to make sure. I’ll do it as you come undone around me.” He says.

You nod, and lay your head back down. Noah kisses your thighs, up to where you need him the most. He groans as he notices how wet you are for him.

“Fuck. Is this all for me?” He asks.

“Yes Noah. All for you.” You breathe out.

“Good girl.” He says before diving in, eating you like it’s his last meal.

“Fuck,” You whine.

As he’s devouring you, you feel yourself getting close.

“I’m so close,” You whimper.

“Let go then.” He suggests.

He continues, and you let go, your cum over his mouth and chin. You notice this as he looks back at you.

“My favorite dessert.” He says.

“Oh hush.” You chuckle.

He smirks, and removes his clothes. Before he even removed his underwear, you could tell he was hard for you.

Once he removes those, he crawls back on top of you. He kisses you, then he slams into you.

“Say it. You’re mine. And only mine.” He demands.

“I’m yours. I’m completely yours, forever.” You say.

“Good girl.” He praises you.

His hips meet yours, and he keeps doing this until you’re close to your next orgasm.

Once this happens, his fangs grow longer, and he sinks them into your neck, drinking some of your blood.

You sigh as he does this, and he slowly fucks you until you cum around him. He follows shortly after, and once he’s done, you’re obviously exhausted.

“I forgot to tell you. You’ll have to drink some of my blood too.” He says.

“Okay. I can do that.” You reply.

Once you do this, he grabs you some water, and helps you clean up. You wouldn’t be waking up for a couple days, as this was the process of being turned.

A couple days later, you wake up, and you’re pale. You have red eyes, and you have fangs. Noah wasn’t there when you woke up, but you realized you couldn’t see yourself in the mirror.

You slowly looked outside and it was dark outside. No wonder he wasn’t home. You decided to just lounge around until he got back, so you resorted to watching a movie.

Once he got back, he smiled as he saw you were awake. He put his things down, and picked you up from the couch.

“Noah!” You laugh.

“What?” He asks.

“You scared me.” You say.

“What, a boyfriend can’t be happy that his love is awake after two days?” He asks.

“Was it that long?” You ask.

“Mhm. I’m glad you’re up, I missed you.” He says, kissing your face and neck.

“Missed you more.” You say.

“Impossible.” He says.

“Very possible.” You reply.

He smiles, and brings you to a chair in the dining room.

As he sets you down, he starts to speak. “Since you’re awake…you have much to learn…”

[blood-red-ocean]

New Year at the Castle - Alcina x Reader

A/N: Happy new year! Please enjoy this oneshot of a celebration at Castle Dimitrescu - this one is a long one, so if you would rather read it on AO3, click here! <3

A/N 2: The reader is wearing a tux <3

Category: Fluff/Romance Warnings: None Word count: 3.1k

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

“The new year will be upon us soon, I think.”

The Lady’s voice brought you out of the world of the novel you had plunged yourself into. After her daughters had settled into bed for the night, the two of you had retired to the library where, such as was your tradition every night, you stoked the fire while Alcina piled the couch opposite with pillows and fluffy blankets. There, with the fire roaring and the snow falling gently against the library windows, you would spend hours upon hours reading, until you fell asleep with your head on her shoulder and woke up curled up beside her in her bed.

At this moment, though, she had lifted her gaze from the pages of her novel – an ancient tome written solely in Romanian – and was gazing pensively out of the nearest window.

“My love? Are you okay?”

“Hmm? Oh, I’m fine,” She responded, waving her hand dismissively. “It’s just… An emotional time of year for me.”

You placed your book down to your side, folding your hands in your lap. You looked up at her and ventured, “Would you like to talk about it…?”

Alcina started to shake her head, then paused, thinking. “That would be… Nice,” She admitted. She placed her book to the side and held her arm out to you, inviting you to nuzzle up against her side. She pulled one of the fluffy blankets over you and tucked it in, idly trailing her thumb across your skin. “New Year’s celebrations were a rather grand occasion, back when… Well, back before I met Miranda.” She sighed dreamily, letting her head fall back as she spoke. “Grand parties and balls, elegant gowns, smoking lounges, and of course, the singing. Oh, the singing. I haven’t sung since…” Alcina trailed off, then shook her head a little before continuing. “And the fireworks, of course. They were magnificent.”

She gazed into the fire with a faraway look, falling silent. You let the silence stretch on for a while, and then, your voice barely above a whisper, “Well… Maybe we can celebrate together, sometime.”

Alcina’s husky laugh reverberated through your chest. “That is sweet of you, draga, but we simply don’t have the space or resources for such an undertaking.” Her gaze fell back to the book in her lap, and that was the last she spoke of it. Book long forgotten to your side, you gazed into the flames of the fireplace, mind whirling with ideas. For the first time, you weren’t the first one to fall asleep. In fact, sleep evaded you tonight, as you laid beside Alcina and stared up at the ceiling. Her arm was thrown over your torso and her soft, purr-like snoring vibrated through you and while it would normally soothe you into a slumber, you were restless. Taking care not to wake her, you slid out from under her arm and softly padded to the door, heading towards her daughters’ rooms.

***

“A New Year’s Eve party?” Bela asked, her eyebrows raised. “Here, in the Castle?”

“A party sounds amazing!” Cassandra was practically bouncing off of the walls with excitement. “We’ve never had a party here before! Just dull meetings with Miranda.”

As you had hoped, the three girls were still awake in their respective rooms. It hadn’t taken much convincing to corral them all into Bela’s room, where the four of you now sat cross-legged on the floor.  Papers were strewn before you, some scribbled with brainstorming notes.

“Do we even have anywhere where we could set something like this up?” Bela asked. She picked up one of the pieces of paper, on which you had jotted down the key elements of a New Year’s celebration. “Food, we can do. Music, too. But… Fireworks? We would need to be outside for that. We can’t go outside in this weather.”

Your shoulders sagged a little. “Right. I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“Wait,” Daniela piped up. She scooched over to Bela and read over her shoulder, chewing her lip in thought. “Not necessarily. There is one place in the Castle where we could do this. It would be like being outside without actually being outside.”

Bela’s eyes widened slightly. “You mean…? No, it won’t work. That place is a mess!”

“What? What place?” You looked between the three of them, hoping for some elaboration.

“The atrium.” Cassandra, who had been trying to do handstands against the wall, fell to the floor with a thud and a soft oof before coming to join the three of you again. “We haven’t used it for decades. It’s so dusty, and full of boxes, and probably spiders—”

“The new year is a week away, though,” Daniela interjected. “If we’re quick, we can get it cleaned out in a few days, and have the rest of the time to set everything up.”

The sounds of a pencil scratching quickly over paper joined the chorus of their overlapping voices as you hurriedly tried to jot down everything they said. By the time you had left Bela’s room and settled back in Alcina’s sleeping arms, the four of you had hatched a flawless plan to ring in the next new year with a bang. As your eyelids grew heavier, you gazed at Alcina’s sleeping form and your heart swelled with excitement and love as you imagined the look on her face when she walked into the biggest celebration the Castle had ever seen.

Over the next week, you and Alcina’s daughters worked hard with clearing out the Atrium. You didn’t even know the Castle had one – the door to it was hidden down the far end of a cobweb-covered hallway, and your feet kicked up dust from the carpet runner with every step. There was a moment of uncertainty when it seemed that the four of you might have to work around Alcina’s presence, but thankfully, Bela managed to talk to Miranda, who requested Alcina’s ‘invaluable assistance’ at her estate. You felt bad, in a way – you would normally never try to get Alcina out of the house for a day, let alone a week, but the thought of her joy as she walked into the party made it all feel worth it. With that in mind, the four of you worked as a team of sorts – Daniela carted old boxes and wooden crates from the atrium into the Castle’s dungeons, Cassandra and Bela dusted, swept, mopped and cleaned the large glass panels, and you walked around the space as it cleared out, jotting down notes and quick sketches as you planned out where to put what.

After three exhausting days, you found yourself laying on the floor of the atrium, staring up at the stars through the glass. Cassandra and Daniela were curled up together, Cassandra’s snoring echoing around the empty space, while you and Bela passed a bottle of water between the two of you. There was still much to do before the turn of the year, but the pride you held for the four of you clearing out this space was immense.

“So, hey, I’ve been meaning to ask… Where did this idea even come from?” Bela asked. She took a gulp of water and continued, “We’ve never had a celebration here, at least not for as long as I can remember.”

“Your Mother told me,” You responded. “She seemed kind of sad that she hasn’t celebrated for so long, and I wanted to surprise her. So don’t tell her, okay? Please?” As you grabbed the water bottle from Bela’s hand, there was something indecipherable in her eyes. She nodded, a small and rare smile on her face.

“I won’t. Promise.”

***

The Duke’s carriage was parked in its usual spot just outside the Castle’s doors, the doors closed tight against the chill of the snowy weather. Paper in hand, you rapped on the doors with your knuckles and stood back to wait. There was a shuffling and a clattering inside, followed by a long, pretentious, “Yes?”

“I have an order request.”

“I’m not taking orders until the snow thaws, I’m afraid. Too hard to get the carriage—”

“It’s for the Lady.” The clattering and shuffling noises became louder, almost frantic, and the doors to the carriage slammed open. The Duke poked his head out and looked directly at you, his usual smarmy grin pasted on his face and making you shudder with discomfort, just the very same as every time you saw him.

“An order for the Lady, you say?” He drawled. “Well come on, come on then, let me see.” You had barely held the list out to him before he snatched it from your grasp, eyes scanning the scribbled contents. “Hmm, I see… This won’t be easy to retrieve, not easy at all, and especially not before this date you’ve written here… Are you absolutely certain you need this?” The Duke’s eyes widened in glee at the bulging bag you thrust towards him. It was filled to the brim with packages of meat, Lycan teeth, some golden goblets from the village, and some harvested wheat from the nearby farm, along with some choice herb mixes from Donna. The Duke snatched it from you and slammed the carriage doors closed again, calling out, “I will return with the items you requested in no more than two days! Cheerio!”

An unpleasant shudder shot through you at his departure and you turned, not at all expecting to run directly into Donna as she stood silently behind you.

“Jesus!” You yelped. “Donna, hi. I need to put a bell on you.” The faintest of smiles flickered across her face, before she beckoned you into the Castle with you. You followed her unquestioningly as she strode through the Castle’s doors, winding her way through the halls.

“Dani told me about your plan,” She spoke over her shoulder to you, her low and husky voice barely louder than a whisper. “I hope you didn’t mind me adding a floral touch.” She led you to the atrium and pushed open the door, and the sight inside made you gasp. Gazing around in utter awe, you had to remind yourself to breathe as you admired her work. You looked at her, shyly standing near the door and awaiting your feedback.

“It’s beautiful.”

***

“Draga?”

While the last few days had been busy, they had been, admittedly, rather lonely. You missed feeling her presence beside you in your shared bed, you missed reading with her until you fell asleep, and you missed the click of her heels as she strode the Castle halls. At the sound of her voice, you sprinted out of your room and barreled into her, wrapping your arms around her. She let out a laugh, a sound that was rare to grace your ears but never failed to make your heart skip beats.

“I missed you!” You said brightly, relaxing into her embrace. “Gods, I’m glad you’re home. How was your time with Miranda?”

“Exhausting.” Alcina pulled the woolen scarf from around her throat and hung it up beside the door, her coat following suit. “I’m not even entirely sure what Miranda required my assistance with. It was all very disorganized. It was as if she simply just wanted me around.”

“Careful, love,” You teased her. “I’ll get jealous.”

“You know that I have eyes only for you, draga mea,” She responded, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. Her eyes roamed over you, drinking you in, before she added, “What in the world are you wearing?”

You blushed, completely forgetting for a moment that you were clad in a white tuxedo, something looking like it was straight out of the 1940’s. On the lapel was pinned a brooch, the three metallic flowers mirroring the three black roses she wore on her shoulder every day. The tux had a golden trim, and it shimmered under the flickering light of the torches that lit the entryway. Heart racing in your chest, you took her hand and slowly led her towards the bedroom.

“Oh, my,” She chuckled. “You really did miss me, hmm, draga?”

“I did, yes, but there’ll be time enough for that later,” You teased, blushing deeply. “No, there’s another surprise in there. I’m very excited to see your reaction.”

With a quirk of an eyebrow, Alcina entered the bedroom, closing the door behind her. You leaned against the wall beside the door and took a deep breath. Out of the corner of your eye you could see Daniela at the end of the hallway, giving you a thumbs up and a goofy grin. You flicked your hand at her in a shooing gesture – and just in time, too, because just at that moment Alcina emerged from the bedroom, and gods, was she a sight. Your eyes widened and your lungs forgot how to function as she towered over you, her golden dress clinging to her. It shimmered with her every breath, the gold the same colour as the trim on your tux and the white trim on her gown matching with you. She gazed at you quizzically, and it took immense effort to pull yourself out of your trance.

“You look absolutely breathtaking, my love,” You murmured. And then, more playfully, “And, if I may say, absolutely ravishing.”

Alcina chuckled at hearing the line you stole from her, reaching to take your outstretched hand. “This is lovely, draga, but I don’t quite understand.”

“Oh, but you will.” You took a few steps back, leading her along the hallway. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course.”

“Then close your eyes,” You whispered. “And trust me.”

As much as she knew the layout of the Castle like the back of her hand, you still made sure to say ‘doorway’ every time, just out of courtesy. There was a faint smile on her lips as you led her through the winding hallways, eventually reaching the atrium doors. Alcina hummed thoughtfully, brow furrowed. “Draga—”

“You can open your eyes now, my love.” She did so and gazed down at you with intrigue and confusion. She glanced around the hallway, behind her, and then back at you.

“Beloved, you do know this leads to the atrium? This part of the Castle hasn’t been used in—”

“Decades.” You smiled up at her and rested your hand on the door handle. From behind the closed doors you could hear the faint sounds of music and chatter, but you hesitated, gazing down at your watch. It was almost time. “Until tonight. I think it’s about time that my beloved Lady sang once again.”

And with that, you leaned back, pushing the doors open and stepping though, Alcina in tow. The chatter died down, everyone in the space turning to look at the two of you with bated breath. Alcina straightened up after going through the doorway and stopped in her tracks, looking around, her lips parted very slightly in surprise.

“Draga…” She breathed.

The atrium was glowing with the light of elaborate lanterns and sconces, the ceiling of stars visible through the glass covering of the atrium. Bundles and bouquets of flowers and vines donated by Donna lined the walls and decorated the tables and stage, their sweet scent permeating the air and strong enough to make one dizzy. The stage itself was adorned with gold and silver ribbons, and the jazz band that was playing onstage wore golden outfits that perfectly complemented Alcina’s. Everyone had arrived to join the celebrations – even Moreau had managed to swap out his usual green-grey attire for a formal emerald green tailored suit. Alcina looked as if she might fall as she took everything in, and you reached up to place your hand on her hip to steady her, drawing her attention back to you.

“Draga, it… how…?” She gazed down at you, her eyes filled with emotion.

“You told me that you hadn’t celebrated New Year’s for a very long time,” You began. “And I know that you said I didn’t have to, but, well… You looked like you really missed it. I got Bela, Dani and Cass to help me clean out this place – which, by the way, now its cleaned out we are definitely going to use this place more often—” Alcina laughed at that. “—and Donna brought the flowers. Everything else I got with the help of the Duke. Which reminds me…” You glanced at your watch again and hurriedly tugged Alcina’s hand, pulling her to the center of the room. “Right about… now.”

High in the night sky, there was a trail of sparkling light soaring towards the stars. As you all watched, it exploded into a ball of gold and white, fading shimmering lights falling to the earth again as another trail of fire zoomed into the sky, and another, and another. Alcina’s arms wrapped around you as you watched the fireworks, and as you glanced around at the small crowd, you felt a sense of pride and accomplishment – it was all worth it. All of the work, the long week of organizing and tidying and cleaning and decorating – all of it was worth it.

As the fireworks whistled and popped high above the atrium, you felt gloved fingers on your chin, turning your head sideways and upwards. Your lips met Alcina’s in a sweet, tender kiss, and when you pulled away you could see the barely contained emotion shimmering in her eyes. You kissed her again, and again, the fireworks in your sky becoming fireworks in your chest.

“Happy new year, my love,” You whispered when you finally broke apart, breathless and lightheaded, lips tingling.

“Thank you, draga,” Alcina whispered.

You could get lost in her gaze in this moment, and you very nearly did, until footsteps to your left caught your attention. Miranda, normally cold and impassive, had a smile on her face as she held something out to you. You took it with a nod of thanks and turned back to Alcina, holding it out to her.

“Now,” You murmured. “I do believe it’s time for you to reclaim your glory, my love. It’s long overdue.”

Alcina took the microphone from your hand with a smile, and kissed your forehead before turning to the stage. You fell in love with a new of her that night, somehow even more confident and bold than usual, as she led the band in a jazzy rendition of Auld Lang Syne. She sang long into the night, and looking around at the small crowd as the atrium filled with her throaty, husky voice, you knew all over again that this is where you were meant to be.

You were home.

[sleepy-wyvern]

His Hummingbird (Miguel O'Hara x female!reader smut)

{Angsty smut oneshot}

Available: here on Tumblr and AO3

WC: ~2.2k [oneshot]

Synopsis: You're a human female who has a boyfriend from another dimension; Spider-Man 2099. Miguel visits your apartment late at night as a surprise after not seeing him for a week.

I HAD TO GET THIS IDEA OUT OF MY HEAD BEFORE I COULD FOCUS ON OTHER FICS IM SORRY ;-;

Inspirations: the song Hummingbird by Metro Bloomin and James Blake and you know the fang scene… man definitely bites 👀

A/N: If y’all want/request more I may write more, otherwise this is a one shot ❤️ leave a comment or reblog if you liked. 

Warnings/tags: Angst, Smut (18+ Minors DNI), hickies (lotsa biting), fingering, light begging from reader, p in v (condom), light male whimpering

Disclaimer: I borrowed my spanglish friend for some of the translations here. Feel free to send an ask or comment if something feels off.

Enjoy!

The moon shone bright through the heavy clouds as you wondered where your spider was. 

Fighting crime, defeating evil, saving lives, all nothing you could complain about. Another universe, another day, another “business trip.” He used that phrase to try and make you feel better but it couldn’t take away from the fact that one day he may not return. Perhaps if things went bad enough you wouldn’t ever be able to know what happened to him, just spending the rest of your life waiting for someone who would never return. You tried your best to shove the thought away as you fiddled with the window latch.

You pushed open the window widely to get whatever cool night air you could in your little city apartment. As the hot summer days neared closer you took solace in the cold rainy night. The sound of the rain and the city traffic was oddly comforting.

You turned and walked toward the kitchen sink opposite of the room figuring you'd at least try to get some chores done. It was a small-ish apartment the size of a hotel room really. The biggest room was the merged kitchen and living room. Still, it was familiar enough space for you to sense the presence behind you.

The moment you turned your back you heard the window blinds gently tap against the window pane; anyone else would’ve thought that had been the wind. Anyone else without a spider person lover anyways.

“Do spiders ever use the door?” You spoke without turning around, instead you turned the faucet on to do the dishes.

“You should start locking that window at night,” his gruff voice was directly behind you.

“Miguel,” you sighed, twisting the tap off before turning around.

It had been a week since his last visit, the longest ever since you started “seeing” each other. You hadn’t put a label on anything yet, what could you call a lover from another dimension that could never stay with you?

Every time you saw him after a prolonged period you were intimidated by how he stood over you. He hadn’t meant to be intimidating as his mask was already removed, yet it was hard to ignore his height and size of his build especially when he had to look down at you.

“Nobody can enter a 4th story window,” you smiled. “Just you.”

Despite that you were angry he was gone for so long your heart melted at the sight of his brown locks falling gracefully over his forehead. He wore his blue and red spider suit as he always did when traveling.

He wrapped his large arms around your waist, pulling you close into his hot embrace. He planted a kiss on your forehead.

“Te extrañé…” He trailed off as he pulled back to look into your eyes. 

He held his hands against your face when you eyed his bracelet; the thing that let him stay here with you without “glitching out.” It was a grim reminder of what could never be. Despite the comfort you got from his rough hands against your soft face, it made you sad. 

“I missed you too,” you sighed, overlapping his hand with your smaller one.

The bracelet was cool to the touch as you frowned. “Where have you been?” You scolded, “You told me you’d be back by Monday. It’s Friday!”

“I’m sorry,” he sighed furrowing his brows. “It’s work.”

“It always is,” You turn around putting your hands on the smooth countertop.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he offered, sounding sad and hopeful.

You knew he didn’t mean to make you worry or make you sad. You both wished things were different. It would make it so much easier. You knew though that if he could change things he would and you didn’t want to hold what was out of his control against him. It wasn’t his fault you were born in different worlds, different universes. It didn’t help that you weren’t a spider person either.

You felt his hands gently against your waist as he moved closer to you.

“I'm sorry." He sighed. "Mi pequeña colibrí…” he whispered into your ear. His breath was hot and heavy against your neck sending shivers down your body.

“Oh stop, you can’t use the español to make me feel better! No fair!” You laughed. 

He placed a kiss on your ear that tickled before you spun back around, wrapping your arms over his shoulders.

“My spiderman,” You giggled as his look of concern melted into happiness. "I'm not mad at you. Just try to let me know if you'll be late next time."

The corner of his lips turned upward ever so slightly in relief. "I promise."

Another thing that was likely yours only; Miguel’s smile. When Jessica met you she was surprised you were even real. She warned you to not mention much of Miguel’s personal life activities to the other spider people but it was hard to remember. Once you accidentally mentioned the flowers on your table were from Miguel to Gwen she nearly fainted. You adored the way he treated you special even if you weren’t sure why he chose you. You could never be mad at him for something he couldn't control.

He brushed his thumbs in a circular motion against your waist as he held you. His dark eyes were full of love as he looked down at you. 

You ran your fingers back through his brown hair. He seemed to sigh beneath your touch, it was thrilling in a way to know he was comfortable enough around you to let his guard down. Nobody else could see Miguel the way you did.

“You need to stop being so stressed. Relax more.” You sighed bringing your fingers to his forehead. “Grumpy wrinkles.”

He chuckled low as he held you tightly. He brought his face down into your neck to inhale the sweet scent of your perfume that he loved so much.

“I know what helps with that,” his voice was deep and silky and fuck it made your body melt. 

You giggled as his sweet kisses turned into loving nibbles. He was careful to not hurt you with his fangs but he knew how much you loved his gentle biting. You had a hunch he loved it as much as you did. On top of that it’s been a week without it and damn you missed him.

You let his touch overwhelm you as he held you, softly biting against your delicate skin. His body tensed against you the moment you let out a small pleasurable gasp.

“Hm,” He huffed deeply as he pulled back. “I forgot my strength. I’m sorry, mi colibrí.”

He brought his fingers up to your neck, wiping away the wetness before examining the hickie left behind.

“That’s what makeup is for,” you reassured. “Now, you have a week to make up for…”

“No better time to start than now,” he knocked off the stack of papers that were laying on the countertop.

Before you could react he grabbed your hips, lifting you into the air. You let out a faint gasp as you wrapped your legs around him.

“Miguel!” You scolded as he smirked at you, placing you on the empty countertop space. “Naughty, what has become of you?” You teased him.

“You have become of me,” he pressed his hot lips against yours hungrily. 

He brought his hands around to the back of your head holding you close so he could kiss you deeply. It wasn’t long before you could feel his cool tongue against your lips. You opened your mouth letting him in, his cold mouth meeting your warm one.

You brought your hands to his shoulders feeling the fabric of his suit. Eagerly you moved your fingers to his back, grasping for the zipper. You rotated between feeling the muscles of his back and fumbling with the damn zipper making your kisses turn sloppy.

“Eager aren’t we?” He laughed low and deep in his throat, it wasn’t a mocking tone. In fact you knew he loved it. 

He shimmied his shoulders out of the suit and it took all of your power not to basically drool over him. You wasted no time bringing your hands to feel his hot skin, tracing your fingers lovingly over the scars on his chest.

You buried your fingers in his hair as your lips met again. The man loves to kiss you, almost as much as he loves to bite you. He took the opportunity to switch to biting your neck whenever you pulled back to breathe. 

He slowly brought his fingers underneath the hem of your shirt, running his calloused fingers along your silky smooth torso. You separated from him only long enough to remove the pesky fabric of your top before diving back into him again.

You could feel the bulge in his underwear against your leg as he leaned forward to undo the clasp of your bra. He brought his large hands to your breasts lovingly cupping and massaging them. Goosebumps rose against his skin at the sound of your soft, lustful moans.

“More baby,” you whispered.

He brought his lips to your nipple, his hair tickling your chest. You tilted your head down letting yourself get lost in the scent of his shampoo while he planted wet kisses against your stiff nipple. His grabs on your body slowly turned more rough as you felt his teeth against your skin.

“More,” you demand. It’s been a week and damn you wanted him more than anything. 

He hooked his fingers underneath the soft fabric of your leggings and panties as you shimmied to help. Your body shivered as the fabric pooled to the floor. Miguel looked at your body with a mixture of awe and hunger- a deep lust filled hunger.

He brought his index and middle finger to your entrance, smiling when he felt how wet you were.

“You really did miss me huh, mi pequeña colibrí?” 

You nodded “mmm’, yes I did. Need you, Miguel.” You whined feeling him circle your entrance.

He wasn’t cruel to make you wait as he plunged his fingers in. Your back arched as you gasped, spreading your legs desperate for him deeper. Feeling his fingers arch against your walls and watching the movements of his wrist as he pleased you was intoxicating.

Still you wanted more.

“Please, baby,” you whimpered.

Your body whined when he stopped and pulled his fingers out. 

“What is it, cariño?” His voice purred. He brought his fingers to his lips, rolling his tongue over your sweetness.

“You,” your lip quivered as you shuddered from the cool apartment air. “Please.”

You knew this was a game he could normally play for a long time. Not today though, neither of you could handle it. Instead your heart raced as he nodded to the kitchen drawer where you kept the condoms since counter sex had become a more regular activity.

He brought his large, hard cock out of his boxers, stroking lightly. You swallowed at the sight wondering how you could ever take him.

He smirked at your expression “are you afraid?”

You shook your head, reaching your hands out to his broad shoulders trying to bring him closer. You fumbled with the condom, bringing your hands to his hot cock. He gasped lightly as your hands held him him, rolling the condom down over him.

He lined his tip against your entrance, soaking himself in your juices and teasing you just a little. 

“Are you ready?” He whispered and for the first time tonight you heard his voice start to shake.

You bit your lip as you nodded “I am.”

He slowly slid himself in as you let out a moan of tight, firey pressure. The moment he was fully inside you both let out a gasp; you both waited so long for this moment. You wrapped your arms around him as he buried his face in the crook of your neck while you got used to the feeling of all of him inside. 

He waited for you to nod and give him the okay to continue. He planted a kiss on your cheek as he pulled out slightly before thrusting in again. You spread your legs further apart, moaning at the next deeper thrust. You grasped at the muscles of his back for an anchor.

“Just like that, cariño,” He whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

He thrusted against, harder and faster as you felt your pleasure start to build. He kept a lovely, steady pace and you knew it wouldn’t be long until you reached your climax.

“Oh Miguel,” you moaned, making him shiver. “Baby, I’m close.”

You grasped at his back desperate to have more of him. His heavy breaths and grunts sent electricity through you while his cock pressed lovingly against that sweet spot.

“Don’t move,” his voice was a quiet whimper while you held him.

Fuck, hearing him whimper always sent you feral but you did your best to keep still while he pounded into your tight cunt. Your back arched as the waves of pleasure crashed down into a lovely orgasm. 

“You feel so good,” he whispered in your ear. 

You knew he was close and you wrapped your legs around him not letting him go. 

“I’m, I’m-“ his voice broke off as you felt his cock twitch inside of you.

His arms held you tightly to him as you were wrapped around him lovingly. The heat of your bodies, the feeling of his heart beating and the rise and fall of his chest as he heavily breathed through the pleasure… Despite that soon he’d have to leave again these moments are what make it worth it.

"Te amo," his voice was a husky whisper as he held you.

For now, you got to enjoy the warm embrace of your spider. 

===

💙💙💙💙

Thanks so much for reading, let me know if you enjoyed with any comments/reblogs, I appreciate them all!

-Wyv

[sealofarchives]

Hello, could you do a Rottmnt headcanon of what kind of relationship Leo, Raph, Donnie and Mikey would be?

Headcanon: The reader might need 4 rings in the future since they couldn't decide on one turtle. (Requested prompt)

A/N: sorry for bringing up watt/pad again but, I did at least a couple of oneshots towards the reader in a poly relationship with the guys. So I had a bit of deja vu seeing this type of prompt again (probably around 5 years of writing) but anyway...

One last note: It was a bit difficult to understand the wording towards this particular ask. I already had some unpleasant interactions with "those fans" so I hesitated for a bit with this one.

So please double check your asks before sending it because I don't want to end up with another semi-hiatus because of asks that were out of my control...

If this isn't the kind of relationship you're into, then just skip this one.

Leo

He honestly wasn't expecting you to make the first move.

And tbh, he kept pacing around his room by the time the new feelings bonked him on the head. Like "Ooooh no... (Y/N)'s actually really really really cute..."

Surprisingly, he went to Splinter for advice. Part of his soul left his body when the rat man explained the importance of that special relationship in a lovey dovey manner. But, actually listened slowly realizing Splinter's previous relationships ended in failure. Especially with how things are with Splinter and Big Mama.

Its close to the end of the week when you suggest that idea to date all four of them. And you were very much taken back that he's okay with it. Though he can't promise not to be jealous from time to time. But, he and his brothers will make sure not to break your heart and will swear by it.

- More likely to do surprise visits (or alerting you with a text that he's dropping by for a few minutes. sometimes close to an hour or more if he's not really in the mood for a night patrol)

- Accidentally starts light hearted competitions with him and his brothers trying to impress you. He's still gonna be a showboat but tones it down the moment you pretend to ignore him.

- He's a bit insane and brave with the idea of wanting to meet your family members (the ones that you feel comfortable with). Or towards people that have been there for you in those darker times. Aside from April and his future self being close to a guardian figure to Casey Jr. And the brief time he and his family had with Karai, might be the reasons why he wants to reach out more. Mostly starting small though since the mental scar from the Krang and Shredder really changed him as a person.

Its usually Mikey or Donnie that challenge the red slider turtle to a friendly game on winning your affection. And when he's not feeling up to it, he just waits when Raph's turn is over and asks for your TLC (tender loving care).

Despite the horrors, he's still the same ol whiner. And will probably latch on to you with the most saddest eyes. That you're luckily immune to as you hold hands with one of his brothers for the start of the next week. Donnie has used a spray bottle with water at him and still does it even when its not his turn.

Raph

Very confused about the idea and trying to make sense of it.

It might be close to a few weeks where he finally understands. (mainly asking from April because his brothers can make it sound more confusing)

He hasn't really thought that much about the existential dread of the mutant/human relationship until seeing either Leo or Donnie silently anxious about it. Like the alligator snapping turtle is always more focused on keeping his family safe. And with you as a partner (and potential future spouse) being shared with him and the rest of his brothers. Mind Raph is pestering him even more just to say it out loud than just waiting for you to lead the relationship.

He'll eventually get used to it and given his oldest brother status. Takes it with ease being more patient compared to their high energy.

- Doesn't realize he acts like a "proper gentleman" (or gentleturtle as Donnie would say) when Raph opens the door for you while you're carrying boxes or something. Or offers to help you with the heavy lifting. Even Splinter calls him out on that behavior.

- When its his turn dating you, you get immediate "dibs" on everything. He plays very innocent with you but on his brothers. They always work together on a prank back at him for being annoying about it.

- Tends to look at your hands sometimes. He blushes thinking about how soft it feels around his face and lightly tracing around where its safe to touch his spiky shell.

While he always has good intentions, his brothers heavily hate the 'chaperone or third wheel checking in on the date idea'.

- It's mostly brought at least once a month and the trio usually try to tell you ahead of time before it happens again.

He'll be slightly grumpy whenever the trio share a single brain cell about a really stupid thing that he won't get.

- And he'll whine for a bit if you end up taking their side so, just take his side to save him from another wrinkle on his Raph chasm.

Donnie

He's silently making a fuss about it during the first month.

And a bit at himself, for waiting so long to ask you out. Before you went ahead with the bold move of "I don't want you guys to fight over me so... Is it okay if I date all four of you?"

It takes him a long while to get used to it. Or when Dr Feelings notices the softshell turtle not being open and honest about this relationship with you.

However once he's fully settled in, a very charming and laidback sort of relationship.

- I always get the vibe he uses 'dearest or darling' as his term of affection towards you. (His brothers used to tease him about it but, on days where bad luck decided to give this turtle a break and more on them. They're pleading for your help and whether you want to add fuel to that fire. That's on you)

- To me, he has that dramatic hopeless romantic energy. The only difference he pulls it off better than the dense couples in rom com movies/shows. With the amount of words he knows, at least a few or almost all of his compliments at you will send your heart into a flutter.

- At least every now and then, he'll try to dazzle you with something. Either one of his incredible inventions or surprising you with your favorite thing. (He'll boldly insist he was a step ahead getting it as a surprise. Even though his brothers actually chipped in to avoid another "The Purple Game" incident)

He sort of has a friendly rivalry with Leo on trying to make you laugh.

- If he starts to gloat about it, especially winning with the claim "Told you I was the funniest."

You kissing the softshell turtle's lips will instantly shut him down. use that power wisely

He unfortunately has jealousy issues by the time his turn is up.

- Like pretending to give the cold shoulder until you need help with something he's an expert at.

Mikey

Very much the mature one taking this relationship seriously.

Even though it took a few days with Donnie's help to get a better understanding of your idea of the poly relationship.

Dr Feelings and Dr Delicate Touch are working overtime because of these dumb dumbs sometimes.

Despite that, absolutely the sweetest turtle boyfriend. (and best future turtle husband material out of the four of them)

- While he has the Lou Jitsu charm, Mikey's bundle of sunshine is a whole another level. You can't help but, slowly break into a smile from his toothy grin.

- If you're the type who takes a long while to warm up to pda. He'll mostly stick to handholding and ask whenever you want a hug or kiss from him. (He's definitely more warm as a result of the mystic fire-based energy and ninpo that just naturally went with the flow towards him. So you sometimes fall asleep on his shoulder without realizing it)

- More likely to make any boring task you dread doing into a fun adventure. You both have matching hats from a previous grocery trip and pretended it was a mission from one of the Jupiter Jim comics.

His brothers were totally not jelly about it.

Very much tries to hide his embarrassment from his brothers suggesting 'better date ideas' to the best of his ability. He glared a few times at Raph with the chaperone idea. The usual youngest not getting along with the oldest brother sort of deal. So whenever you're around, the biggest sign is a strained smile on his face while lying that everything is okey-dokey.

- He almost clamped his shell shut when Splinter immediately disapproved the ideas with something even more embarrassing.

The only downside is he might go to some extreme lengths with how stubborn his brothers act.

- So you might need additional help from Splinter or April to prevent a new doctor persona along the lines of Dr Chaos.