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#the only canon divergent ones anyways
demaparbat-hp · 1 month
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Almost
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fycoren · 6 months
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what if I.. shared these fellas
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I have many lore and thoughts for this AU man help
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nonuel · 3 months
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mass effect fandom typically has no problem disregarding or rewriting portions of canon, but one thing i have almost never seen touched is the friendship between garrus and shepard. so here is a poll because i am genuinely curious. i tried to be as expansive as poll limitations allowed, but since we are already throwing out canon i recognize there are a lot of variances that haven't been included. because of that, i would particularly like it if people elaborated about their non-romantic relationship with garrus in the tags, comments, or reblogs - especially if you are someone who has voted for any of the non-friend options. thanks for your time!
this post is not meant to be garrus critical. garrus enjoyers are welcome to participate in the poll, i only ask that you are respectful toward other people who may not have him as their favorite, or who may just simply roleplay a shepard that does not have him as their (best) friend for whatever reason.
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krikeymate · 1 year
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Thinking of how nervous Sam had sounded at the beginning of 6 when she called Tara and said. “You’re supposed to answer when I call. I was thinking we could make dinner together. If you want.”
and then the idea of Sam being attacked by Ghostface after she leaves that voicemail popped up. Sam is killed and no one finds out until hours later.
Tara never returns her call.
Tara gets home after Chad saves her from DR Frankie and she asks Quinn if she’s seen Sam but Quinn shrugs and says she never came home.
Tara finally listens to the voicemail and feels a bit guilty hearing it but then worried when she realizes that Sam should be home by now. Cue Quinn telling her to come into the living room and Tara comes out to see Sam’s picture on the television and details about Samantha Carpenter being brutally murdered.
Hey Bailey, fuck you. 💔
Tara storms home with an apologetic Chad on her tail, the rest of their friends trailing behind. She ignores him, furious about the scene he caused and the attention he drew to them. Tara's not some child who can't make her own decisions, how dare he try to control her, how dare he.
How dare he think that "Sam asked me to look out for you!" was any sort of explanation, that it was reasonable or acceptable. She's going to kill him, and then she's going to kill Sam. Sam who can't stay out of her business or let her have some freedom for one goddamn second. Tara doesn't need to be monitored every fucking moment of the fucking day!
She slams the door in Chad's face. She's not dealing with him tonight.
Tara throws herself onto her bed and smothers herself with her pillow, screaming into the material. She's angry, but mostly she's angry at herself. How could she put herself in that situation? One where she needs to be saved from. Tara's spent all this time talking about how she's not a victim, and she goes and tries to make herself one. Eugh.
She allows herself to be distracted by the buzzing of her phone. She flips through the texts from her friends, sighs at her twitter notifications blowing up, and ah, winces at the missed call from Sam.
You know you're supposed to pick up when I call. I got out of therapy early, so I was thinking maybe we cook dinner tonight. If you want. I'll see you soon.
Great. Now Tara feels guilty about this too. Another apology she needs to make.
She rolls out of bed to knock on Sam's door. "Sam?" she calls, cracking it open and peering in. The room is dark and empty.
She checks the living space next, but there's only Quinn on the couch watching TV, flipping through the channels.
Frowning, she checks the time on her phone and tries to call her instead. Sam doesn't pick up.
You know you're supposed to pick up when I call, Tara teases, leaving a message. Call me back, where are you? I'm sorry I missed your call earlier, I was out. I'm sure your little informants will tell you all about it tomorrow.
Love you, she adds as an afterthought to delay putting down the phone in the hope Sam will suddenly pick up.
"Tara?" Quinn calls from the living room. She sounds... alarmed.
"What's up," she asks, walking back into the room. Quinn looks at her, shocked, and turns her head back to the TV, clicking the volume up on the remote.
The phone drops from Tara's hand as her vision narrows in on the television screen. She can hear Quinn talking to her in the background, a phone ringing, but all she can focus on is the voice of the reporter on the TV.
Standing in front of a shocking scene...
A woman now confirmed to be Samantha Carpenter...
The police have not revealed any other details however...
The following video has been circulating online. Warning, this footage is not for the faint of heart...
Sam is- Sam- she.
Tara falls to her knees.
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flugame-mp3 · 2 months
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hyperfixations really are something else. i have somehow made every song ive listened to for the past week about SOME character from supernatural. guys i think its terminal help me
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novelconcepts · 4 months
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(don’t care if it hurts) i wanna have control
“You’ve got ink?” Van’s injecting so much scandal into three words, one would think it was the worst thing Taissa’s ever done. “Taissa Turner! Inked. Why, I never—"
Only the light in her eyes gives away the joke. Tai pushes at her shoulder, laughing.
“It’s been a long twenty years.”
(somewhat prompted by @americanhooligans: Taivan reconnecting and being startled by brand-new tattoos)
M; 4778 words
Eighteen comes back with all the zeal of a goddamn tetherball, in the grand scheme of things. You never see it coming until it’s too late. Taissa’d like to think she’s too mature for eighteen to come around and wallop her upside the head, but what is maturity, anyway? Just another mask. Just another game to play. And, when all is said and done, when your marriage dissolves and your family walks away, when your job crumbles to ash and you find yourself entrenched in old habits… Maturity goes the way of the dinosaurs, doesn’t it? And all you’re left with is a single realization: Van Palmer’s hands haven’t changed in twenty fucking years. Van Palmer hasn’t changed in twenty fucking years.
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non-un-topo · 1 day
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I thought it was smart to choose Tuareg veiling as a research topic for an assignment because it's something I'm interested in and want to write about in fics, but now all I want to do is write and I have no time ;;
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fluffypotatey · 1 year
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*staring deeply at my dr. geyer & liam fic* ........what if i just said fuck canon?
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atopvisenyashill · 3 months
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the sheer amount of modern aus in this fandom should be studied in a lab omg
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altruistic-meme · 11 months
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we may be feeling brain power?? just a smidgen??? shall we attempt to take control of it for a moment???
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bizarrelittlemew · 5 months
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Hey thanks for that great detailed and researched answer about AU's in this fandom! (/gen) My curiosity is satisfied! It's always interesting to see how fandoms respond to their shows in fic, isn't it? 😄 AU's just aren't my thing and I'll keep digging for the canon-verse fics, but you all keep writing them! Ed and Stede *will* be in love in every 'verse if you carry on! 💕
you're welcome!! and thank you for the interesting question!
i wish you happy reading and that you will have a good time if you ever do give AUs a chance 😌
a note due to some of the tags on the other post: canon divergence is tagged as AU on AO3 (and is supposed to be tagged that way). "Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence" is the commonly used tag, and is a subtag of "Alternate Universe - Canon". so if you're interested in canonverse fics and don't mind that they deviate from canon, i'm guessing filtering out the "Alternate Universe" metatag will hide them from you. if you look at the subtags here, you can get some inspiration for exactly which tags you want to filter out (or search!) ✌️ (it's a long list but you can see which tags are subtags to other tags - e.g. if you filter out "Alternate Universe - Retail" you automatically exclude bookstore, flower shop, music store, pet store etc.)
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femme-malewife · 2 months
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Writing angst is such a breath of fresh air for me...
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randomshyperson · 8 months
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Do I Wanna Know - Wanda Maximoff Kinktober #05
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Summary: Taking advantage of the fact that the Avengers are going through a divorce, you decide to visit your (not-so-secret) girlfriend in the compound. While they fight, you entertain Wanda and present her with a third option besides staying in the tower or fighting Steve Rogers: to run away with you.
Warnings: (+18), shapeshifting reader, some talking of gender identity, implied gender neutral but use of female pronouns, established and secret (ish) relationship, canon-divergence, bottom!Wanda, making out, unprotected sex, creampie, intimate teasing, praising, general fluff.  | Words: 4.131k
This work was turned into a series. Check the masterlist here.
General Masterlist | Kinktober Collection | AO3 | Wattpad
-&-
It got more dangerous every time it happened. But getting caught, and all the consequences that would come with it, were distant ideas, possibilities that didn't cross Wanda's mind, especially when she was at your place.
She didn't think about the team, the country, what anyone else might think and judge about the relationship - if she could call it that - between the two of you.
All Wanda could focus on when she was around you was undeniably you.
It became a secret routine, a hidden part of her life that she looked forward to almost all the time. Between tiring and dangerous missions, a new excitement among the gray corners of the private life of what many would call the most powerful Avenger.
Nobody knew about you, not the way she did anyway. What the others saw was the smuggler with no loyalty - the thief who stole and would steal from anyone in her path, for the best price. And could also take anything she was paid to take. From a diamond necklace to an infinity stone, from the most exclusive party of the world's elite to the secret country in the middle of the African continent. 
Sometimes, Wanda would trace Wakanda's scar on your skin while you slept, and wonder if the person you were at that moment was the same person that King T'Challa wanted behind bars for a few pieces of metal.
The moral part didn't bother her much - if she was honest, Wanda understood impressions and what really mattered very well. Coming from a country exploited by the United States, which praised a man in blue who was very reminiscent of the captains who marched to the corners of the world to massacre cities, to one who wore iron armor and produced the same bombs that took the lives not only of her parents, but of the vast majority of the children she grew up with, Wanda understood hypocrisy like no one else. Despite everything that had happened to her, she shared a roof with the man indirectly responsible for her parents' deaths. No one could judge her so easily, but Wanda was sure that if your relationship went public, it would happen in the blink of an eye.
So when she was fleeing, for hours between one mission and another, one meeting and another, she tried to enjoy you as much as possible.
And sometimes, when you were apart for too long, and she worried that she was beginning to forget the features of your face, Wanda could prepare a surprise.
She could lie, taking advantage of her magic or not, to prolong everything from your time together to the sensations you shared in bed. She could haunt you - and you would use that term because, without her around, the feeling of lack was very similar to that of loss.  - Wanda would invade your dreams, like a sigh in the night never to leave your mind.
But more often than not, she would simply mark you with hickeys and scratches on everything hidden beneath your uniform, and you might leave a path of purple through the valley of her breasts that would be the only proof of the hours she had spent enjoying your company.
The Avengers were on a thin line now - Accords, fights, and old friends, and neither you nor Wanda knew it, but soon, the world would see you two the same way. 
Criminals on the run.
But the future hasn't arrived yet - And Wanda, unbeknownst to you, was locked away in a tower like an ancient princess, and you, against the advice of your own safety, went to visit a damsel who wasn't so much defenseless but would definitely be distress to see you there.
"You can't be here." The warning came against your lips, pressed into hers half a second after your arrival into the room - you could only kiss back, smiling at the tug on your leather jacket that fell to the floor behind your feet. 
"I missed you too princess." That's what you said back, your hand wrapped around her waist as your tongue slid into hers. 
Wanda sighed, her body yearning for your touch and presence just as much as her heart for the last few weeks without seeing you. Despite pushing you around the room, until you were sitting on the bed, Wanda interrupted the motions, her frown of concern and her out-of-rhythm breathing escaping through her swollen, ajar lips.
"I'm serious." She begins a hand on your shoulder to keep you in place. "They can't see you here-"
"The Avengers aren't home, I was told." You justify quickly, your gaze wandering to look her up and down. Wanda always looked so beautiful, it was almost unfair. "United Nations meeting, everyone's talking about it."
One of your hands plays with the folds of her skirt, pulling it up, but Wanda pushes them away.
"Most of them, yes, but I'm not alone." She murmurs, looking around and undeniably using magic to check the floor. "Vision is keeping me company."
"Which one is Vision anyway?" You retort casually, not caring about the last gesture, moving your hands under her clothes and biting back a smile at the way her thigh muscles quiver with your touch. 
Wanda rests her other hand on your shoulder, her gaze serious. "The one with the damn magical stone you once stole from Hydra." She retorts, sighing softly as she feels your fingers playing with the laces of her panties. "Please, detka. Vision... would kill you if he found you here."
You click your tongue. “I could disguise myself…” But Wanda shakes her head.
“The stone can see beyond.” She retorts with a certainty that makes you assume this information came directly from her team's study of the Stone. But instead of answering right away, you pull her by the thighs onto your lap, smiling mischievously at the surprised yelp that you muffle on your lips. Wanda tries to listen to reason, but it's too faint compared to the pounding of her own heart. 
"Don't make a sound and he'll never know." You whisper your last request before kissing her intently, your bold hands teasing inside her blouse. It doesn't take long for Wanda to be restless in your lap, panting against your tongue exploring her mouth so hungrily, sweating with the precise stimulation of her nipples as your hands pull down her dark bra. But despite a mind almost completely clouded with arousal, she bites at your lower lip and breaks the kiss.
"I missed you." Wanda likes you to know these things because sometimes, you have less than an hour together and it feels like one of those times. She hasn't seen you for weeks, and God knows when she'll get another chance now that the team seems on the verge of collapse. 
You give her a teasing smile, your hands wrapped around her. "You're so sweet, Wanda. My beautiful, darling, princess." Your compliments were accompanied by chaste kisses against her jaw, and it always works to leave her a mess, melting into you and at your beck and call. 
In the safety of your embrace, Wanda risked being vulnerable:
"Did you miss me too?"
You're not so good at these things - It comes from your past, so different from her happy childhood although later overshadowed by the height of a civil war as a teenager, but definitely different from growing up in Tony Stark's mansions and summer houses, or surrounded by family lunches like Bruce Banner or Thor. If anything, your childhood was closer to that of a Black Widow, with training and punishments whenever the expectations were not achieved. 
Still, Wanda warmed her way into your heart, and you tried to give back as best you could.
"I don't really think about you when I'm away." Her expression drops immediately, but before she can conclude anything, you move one of your hands to grab hers, and bring it back inside your blouse. Your intense gaze is the only thing stopping her from pulling away. And when Wanda can feel a new scar near your abdomen, she swallows dryly. "Or rather, I just have to force myself not to do anymore. What you're feeling happened in Berlin. An MK2 hidden in the belt of an arms dealer who asked me... how much I was enjoying America." You narrate, and Wanda frowns, being able to visualize the memory fresh in your mind. You swallowed and looked down at your lap. "I don't know how much he knew, but he said your name, and I just... flinched. I was blinded by rage and he took advantage of it. So, no, Wanda. I can't afford to let you cross my mind when I'm away, because you become a weakness. And I wasn't trained to have weaknesses."
Despite the way her body warms to the confession, Wanda gives you a playful look.
"Should I apologize, you know, for making a romantic out of the grumpy assassin?" she teases, and you chuckle, spinning her around in a tug to drop her on her back on the bed, you on top. 
With your body pressed into hers, one hand on her waist and the other adjusting her hair away from her eyes, you nuzzle your noses together. "Don't ever apologize for making me feel this way." You whisper, and Wanda closes her eyes in anticipation, her cheeks burning. "You have me in a way that no one ever could, Wanda Maximoff."
The next kiss is intense and charged with meaning. It makes Wanda shudder and gasp into your mouth. You smile, secretly proud of the effect you have on her, while your hands move down to pull her thighs up and make her wrap herself around you, ankles locked behind your knees.
The position elicits a deep moan from the girl beneath you, and when you adjust yourself to press your pelvis against her, Wanda chokes in surprise, opening her eyes.
"Is that...?"
Without losing your relaxed posture, you offer her a little smile full of the worst intentions. "I thought I'd play differently today." You reply, grinding gently against her and making Wanda bite her lips. The movement leaves you equally affected, but you let her know: "I can always change back..."
Wanda tightens the grip of her legs around you, shaking her head. Her cheeks turn pink. "N-no! I like... I like you either way." She manages to whisper, and you smile warmly, kissing her softly. 
One of your hands comes down to invade her blouse, starting an intense making-out session between you, enough to mess up your hair and the bed sheets and leave you hard against her thigh.
When Wanda stops to breathe again, there's a wet spot on the thigh she's spent the last few minutes grinding against - and you take the opportunity to plant kisses on her collarbone. Your hands go down to unbutton your pants.
Between kisses, you warn her: "I have to be careful... I think it works like a real one. Speaking of biological functions, you know. "
She uses magic to force your pants down to your ankles, aroused enough that the delay was driving her to the brink of insanity. Still, she manages to gasp between kisses: "You think?"
You hum, distracted by the sensation of your cock rubbing against her covered intimacy - body shuddering with arousal. "Y-yes... I've never... used it for sex before... Just for the job, you know? While in disguise."
The information made Wanda need to ignore the liquid arousal and press trembling hands onto your shoulders, gently pushing you away and attracting your attention.
After a sigh, she asked: "Are you comfortable, darling? With this of course... I don't know the exact feel of your powers, but I don't want you to think you need to change a single thing about yourself for me. Who you are is incredible and enough."
You break into a loving sigh and attack her face with kisses that make Wanda giggle shyly. "You're too sweet on me, Maximoff." You tease, and wrap your arms around her on the bed, hugging her tightly. Wanda bites her lips, still well aware of your lust brushing her, but trying to ignore the sensation in case you change your mind. After all, just your presence after so many weeks away was what she really wanted. Sex was just a bonus. 
Somehow, she ends up on top again, your foreheads touching. 
"It's different because of my powers, everything they do for me, changing my body as needed, you know? But still, I feel that even without these abilities, these details wouldn't make any difference to me." You confess with a sigh, one of your hands stroking behind her back. "Whether my body resembles of a boy or a girl, I say. In my head, I'm always in the middle, or outside of it. I can't explain it very well, and I’m still trying to understand it better but… I know for a certain that I want to make you feel good. In any of the ways I’m able to."
Wanda absorbs your words for a moment, her heart pounding and her chest warm with tenderness. She doesn't know exactly when she fell for you - whether it was from the first second your eyes met, or whether it was over time, between flirtations and arguments, until finally, she had the courage to act on those feelings and was lucky that you held on to them as much as she did.
Instead of answering with words, she kisses your skin. Your cheeks, your jaw, and your lips, while her hands touch wherever they can. It takes you by surprise, the familiar sensation of her magic on your clothes until you're both skin to skin on the mattress. Wanda sighs deeply, still with her eyes closed, as she adjusts herself on your lap, but looks up at you again before shifting to fit into you.
"Are you ready, love?" You whisper against her lips, one hand on her waist, the other lining up at her warm entrance. Wanda welcomes you with breathtaking heat - you slide in easily, yet she gasps until she gets used to the sensation of being filled, her hands firmly on your shoulders. You sigh too, trying not to get lost in the sensation as you ask: "Can I move?"
"Y-yes, please." She practically meows impatiently, her forehead falling against your shoulder as your hips move upwards, gently thrusting inside her. But Wanda clenches inside, hot and eager, and you grunt, trying to hold in your own pleasure. She grinds down against your hips, the sound of her wet arousal echoing between you. Your hands tighten on her hips, and you gradually increase the speed, making Wanda gasp between moans against your ear. "Dorogoy... that feels so good..."
You manage to gasp back, nodding softly in agreement: "You have no idea how amazing you feel, baby... so fucking wonderful... God..." It takes you by surprise, the first reach of your climax. You try to hold back, but Wanda bites your skin hard as she feels the warm shot on her walls, and your grunt turns into a heavy moan as you spill inside her. Wanda wraps her arms around your shoulders, grinding gently as you throb out the last drops, which soon run down her thighs.  A moment later, your voice hoarse, you whisper: "I'm sorry, babe. I didn’t... know it would be so hard to hold it..."
She giggles shyly, kissing your skin before looking at you again. A mischievous gaze. "Do you need a break, or perhaps that was the highlight of the night...?" She teases, but you snort in fake indignation, fixing your grip on her waist to flip her onto the bed. The gasp of surprise turns into a muffled whimper as you thrust inside her powerfully, hard again as if you hadn't just come. Her hands move to your waist, and her nails dig into your hips with each thrust.
"You were saying?" You challenge softly, panting against her lips. Wanda chuckles under her breath, one of her legs tucking behind yours, increasing your reach deep inside her. With each thrust in, she shuddered and gasped on the bed, closer and closer to the edge. You lowered yourself completely, pinning her to the mattress and burying yourself inside her as you felt her become impossibly tight. Wanda came in a high-pitched whimper, her nails digging into your lower back just enough to make a mark. You kissed her jaw, rocking gently as she still rode the waves of her own climax.
When you suddenly pulled out, cumming against her soaked and abused pussy, she mewed in protest, her leg trying to pull down and back inside of her. You chuckled hoarsely.
"Baby, I shouldn't have come inside the first time." You whispered, kissing her cheek. "I have to be careful, it's not replication, I transform truly. Let's get you a pill after this, all right? And we'll need some condoms for next-."
"Problems for later." Wanda cuts in good-naturedly, pulling your face back to hers and kissing you intently, effectively silencing any rational thought in your head.
It's honestly the best you've felt in a long time - as it usually is when you're around Wanda Maximoff.
It shouldn't surprise you that much when a few hours of rolling around in bed together, the moment is interrupted by knocks on the door.
Wanda, naked and panting, is sitting on your hips, and you're inside her still, ready to come again when she practically jumps away, and you have to muffle the grumble of frustration against her pillow.
"Y-yeah?" she manages to ask the visitor, sitting on shaky knees on the bed, one hand pulling the covers over her body. 
It takes a moment, but the male voice answers: "Sorry to disturb you, Wanda, but I made dinner. Won't you join me?"
She pushes the fingers you threaten to drag between her legs away, a smile playing on her lips.
"I'm not hungry, Vision, thank you."
There's another pause, in which Wanda throws you warning glances to stop trying to touch her before the robot speaks again, more seriously than before.
"Wanda, can we talk? Please."
She frowns, and exchanges a look with you, who sigh, rolling your eyes and looking away, your chest burning with a strange sensation. Using magic to bring one of the robes to her after muttering "One second", Wanda stumbles to the bedroom door, which she leaves with only a small gap to the corridor.
"Vis, it's not a good time-
"She shouldn't be here, Wanda." Vis cuts in, and you tense up on the bed. But he makes no mention of entering the room, and Wanda comes out wrapped in her robe, covering the ajar door with her body as a dry laugh escapes her.
"That's none of your business."
The man shakes his head in disbelief, and his tone of voice, although restrained, can be heard by you inside the room.
"Wanda, please be rational." He insists seriously. "At such a delicate moment for the Avengers, to bring... a criminal into the tower..."
"Vision, go away."
He sighs, hesitantly. "I should report this." He mutters, and although you can't see Wanda's face, you can see the way her shoulders tense and you can imagine the hardness of her expression.
"Do as you wish, but know, I will never speak to you again if anything happens to her."
Vision shakes his head. "And where do you think their choices will lead? If it's not the Avengers, it'll be the police who capture her. Interpol, or whichever organization finds her first. What they're doing, Wanda, has no future and you know it." He says, sighing in disapproval. "Send her away now, or I'll warn the others." Vision announces at last.
"Maybe I'll just go with her." Wanda retorts, but Vision chuckles dryly.
"You have no idea what's happening outside those walls, Wanda." He retorts seriously. "The fine line we're on. Mr. Stark is trying to keep everyone out of danger, and after everything we caused in Lagos,  wandering around without signing the Accords is out of the question."
Wanda chokes in surprise. "What... Am I not allowed to leave the tower?"
Vision clears his throat, nodding. "It's for the safety of the civilians." He retorts coldly. "Although I believe your intentions are good now, your record as a Hydra terrorist and recent events are not in your favor. It's best, for everyone, that you stay here until things settle down and all the signatures are counted."
Wanda is speechless at the absurdity, but in the meantime, you're already dressed and she jumps softly when your hand opens the rest of the door. Vision's eyes go wide, but you just give him a forced smile.
"Hey, microwave, long time no see." You greet sarcastically, and the man adjusts himself.
"Unfortunately not long enough." He retorts coldly. 
"Jeez, someone's rusty." You grumble, but he looks at you seriously.
"Don't abuse my patience, Miss. You have fifteen minutes to leave this tower, or I'll call National Security with your location."
You rest your arm on Wanda's shoulder, a smile playing on your lips. "Wow, am I that important?"
Vision takes a hard step forward, but Wanda's magic pushes him back with a jolt. You laugh at his indignant expression.
"That's enough, Vision. She's leaving soon, and you're leaving now." Wanda warns, at last, her irises bright red. The synthesizer begrudgingly gives you one last threatening look and leaves the corridor. 
You wrap your arms around Wanda again to kiss her hard as you close the door with your foot, but she doesn't match the intensity, and soon, her hands are on your shoulders, gently pushing you away and stopping the kiss. 
At your confused expression, she swallows dryly. "You should go." She whispers, fear in her eyes. "I know he meant it. And I don't want to ruin this night with you getting shot by some federal agent."
You hesitate, but end up nodding, kissing her on the cheek before walking away to get your shoes.
But as you put them on, and Wanda hugs her own body, you take a chance:
"You know you don't have to stay here, right?" You begin a little upset. "You could do like that archer guy and ask for a retirement. Or have your friends forgotten that you've already saved the world once and therefore, you don’t owe any of them shit?"
Despite the childish stubbornness in your tone, Wanda smiles sadly before retorting. "I don't think they've forgotten, but things are more complicated than before. And I'm not like Clint Barton, darling." She retorts, swallowing dryly. "I don't have a family to go back to."
You frown, absorbing the words in silence as you finish tying your sneakers. And then, as if it wasn't the sweetest thoughtful thing you've ever said to her, you declare:
"I could be family, Wanda."
She looks away for a moment because she doesn't want to cry in front of you. She has the impression that you won't leave - and she needs you to go so that you can be safe - if you notice the tears. 
Sniffling softly, and wiping her face before you notice, Wanda asks. "Do you really mean that?"
You stand up, moving closer to her to hold her cheeks. "Every word." You assure her with a smile. "We could travel the world, and have lunch and dinner in different places every day. We would buy all the most expensive and tacky things just because we can..."
Wanda giggles shyly at the fantasy, allowing herself to believe it for just half a second. She holds your hands cupped around her face afterward and sighs.
"It's a beautiful dream, darling."
You swallow dryly, staring at her. "Just a dream, isn't it?" You sigh sadly, and she nods just as upset.
Her tone is very low, like a secret. "They'll find you eventually. And I... God knows how much my power will grow. I can't trust myself outside of here, without the help of training. Stark's containment plans. And I know it's horrible, but I don't want to hurt anyone. Ever again. And if I went with you, with this life you lead, eventually, I would."
You swallow dry, sighing in understanding. This time, it's you who sniffles.
“I’m always one call away, Wanda Maximoff. Whenever you need me, just pick up the phone.” Wanda feels her chest warm at your words, but all she does is smile tenderly against the kiss you place on her lips. 
Unknown to both of you, it won’t take long for her to call. With really unexpected big news.
Two of them precisely.
-&-
This work was turned into a series. Check the masterlist here.
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endlessthxxghts · 2 months
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Dr. Miller - Pt 2
Orthopedic!Joel Miller x afab!Reader | W/C: 4.8k
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Summary: It’s time for your second appointment with Dr. Miller.
Warnings: canon-divergent - no outbreak, medical professional au. Reader (she/her) has female anatomy and is able-bodied. No physical description of race. Reference to reader’s clothing, but no sizes mentioned (everything is neutral). Pet names (darlin’, angel, girl, etc). Most definitely doctor malpractice LMFAO. 18+ MDNI. Inherent power imbalance (doctor-patient relations). Dirty talk. Hickeys/biting/marking. Fingering. Slight begging. Praise kink. Multiple orgasms. Spit kink. P in V unprotected (wrap it before you tap it, guys). Cum play/cum swallowing…snowball kisses🥴. Daddy kink… and last but not least, the ending.. I’m not gonna say what, you’ll just have to read, but I’m sorry😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 although I’m foregoing a warning or two for plot purposes, please let me know if they should be up here! I’ll fix it accordingly!🫶
A/N: Here goes round 2! As far as the series goes and as far as posting it goes LMAO!! This hellsite deleted my first attempt in posting, so hopefully it stays up this time around. And I’m giving a big thank you to @honeyedmiller for proofreading and catching my horrendous grammar mistakes lololol I love you🩶 Anywho, I hope you guys enjoy!!! I’d love to hear what you think :) luv u guys xx
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Friday. 4pm. Your next appointment with Dr. Miller was tomorrow. 
This was the first ever doctor appointment you’ve ever been excited for. The automated text their system sends out didn’t tell you to arrive early, and you’ll admit, you were bummed. 
You’ll show up early regardless. Maybe he’d be able to see you sooner if his schedule allows. At least, you can hope, anyway. 
After your appointment with him last week, you were left hurt and wanting. You knew the hurt was a natural reaction to the sudden dopamine drop, and something tells you Dr. Miller is a guy who’s adamant on aftercare. So, you swept those emotions under the rug easily. 
Not so easily, however, was your needy cunt and the way it drooled and throbbed for nearly an entire week straight, craving the one thing she almost had. She barely had a taste, but she was already hooked, addicted even. 
Your fingers, your vibrator, your purple dildo that’s helped you come plenty of times – nothing could get you off. Not anymore. 
Unbeknownst to you, Dr. Miller had the exact same problem. Well, okay – he could ejaculate just fine, but the want never seemed to leave his system. Ever since he’s had his taste of you, he could never reach the feeling of satisfaction. And it has taken an absolute toll on him. 
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Dee snarked. Only she could ever talk to him like that. She keeps him on his toes. 
“The hell is wrong with me?” he huffed. 
“You’re being a grump, doc,” she replies. 
He rolls his eyes. “Ain’t I always?” 
“Yeah,” she says thoughtfully. “But you seem more… miserable.”
“Gee, Dee, well thank you for that,” he replies monotonously. 
“You’re welcome,” she snickers. She comes closer, voice hushed. “Seriously, though. Do you need to get laid or something?”
He chokes on the coffee he now regrets bringing up to his lips. “Jesus,” he coughs. “Time and place, Dee,” he says, trying to collect himself. 
She raises her hands up defensively. “I’m just lookin’ out for ya, doc,” she smirks, howling out a laugh as she puts Dr. Miller out of his misery by returning to her desk. 
He just shakes his head in response, fighting the blush on his cheeks at the thought of you taking care of the needs Dee so outwardly pointed out he had. 
Dr. Miller wouldn’t have to wait much longer, though. Your appointment was so soon, only one more work day before he’s able to be blessed by your presence again. That is, until Dee finds another opportunity to shit on Dr. Miller’s mood. 
“What do you mean we’re supposed to close early tomorrow?” Dr. Miller gruffs. 
“Exactly that, Miller,” Dee treads lightly. “It was in the calendar. Too many people have off in the afternoon tomorrow. It’s Easter weekend. You’ll be sorely understaffed.”
“Then who booked the patients after 2 if us closing early was in the calendar?” Dr. Miller is never one to be an asshole, dictating boss, but his irritation is very much getting the best of him right now. 
Dee whispers her next response. “…The new hire. But don’t blame them. I should’ve caught it sooner,” she reasons. 
Dr. Miller takes a steadying breath. “So how many people do we gotta disappoint right now?”
Dee pulls up the calendar on her phone. Dr. Miller watches her shoulders physically relax. “Oh! Actually, you’ve only got one person. At 4. I’ll call right now to reschedule,” Dee says with a finality. 
“Wait- who?” Dr. Miller asks. He knows who it is. 
Dee looks confused for a moment, but she indulges and reads off your name to her boss. 
“Y’know what, Dee,” Dr. Miller waves her off. “I’ll take care of that appointment, it’s fine.”
“Dr. Miller, are you sure-”
“‘Course,” he cuts her off. “I’m the only one in this damn office without Easter plans, anyway,” he huffs. “Empty nest or however that sayin’ goes.”
Dee nods in understanding. “How’s she doing?” 
“Fuckin’ amazin’,” Dr. Miller marvels. “She just surprises me more ‘n more everyday.”
Dee smiles before she returns to their situation at hand. “Are you sure you don’t want me to reschedule?”
“I’m sure,” Dr. Miller states. “Listen, I know this practice wouldn’t be able to run without any of y’all, and without you especially-” Dr. Miller explains. 
“You flatter me,” Dee butts in with a straight face. 
He smirks before continuing. “But have some faith in this old man, why don’t ya? I think I’m more than capable of doin’ the whole check in, check out thing.”
Dee takes in a sharp breath. “It’s much more than that, Miller, but nonetheless,” she holds her hands up in surrender. “I’ll put some faith in ya, old man.”
“Thank ya,” he drawls. “Now please go talk to the new hire about their mistake, I think they’re still afraid of me a lil bit.”
She laughs in the affirmative, shutting Dr. Miller’s office door on her way out. 
Holy shit. 
His plan to get you alone just worked itself out. Thank you, newbie, he thinks to himself.
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Dr. Miller’s office is less than ten minutes away from you, yet somehow you decide that if you left any later than 3, you’d keep Dr. Miller waiting, and you certainly didn’t want that happening.  
The parking lot is completely empty, a lone vehicle – a hefty truck – sits only two spaces away from your own. Your tummy swirls, knowing exactly whose car that might be. However, another swirl of nerves swarms through you. Why are there no other vehicles? 
Swallowing the anxious lump in your throat, you step out of your car and make your way inside the office. Inside is even further void of life than the parking lot. 
You make a beeline for the check-in window, picking up the pen from the cup to begin filling out your information when a deep drawl of your name startles you.
“Dr. Miller,” you jump, your eyebrows flying to your forehead. 
“Shit,” Dr. Miller chuckles. “Sorry, darlin’,” his voice was much softer, careful. “I do that a lot to my staff- sneak up on ‘em, they call it. Say I need a bell or somethin’ ‘round my neck.” 
You laugh with him at the little anecdote. He motions for you to come on back already, dismissing the check-in process since it’s only you, he explains. 
“Why is it only me?” You ask. Well, okay – you know why it’s only you, but how is it only you is the question. He did not just send everyone else home since you’d be here. That would raise too much suspicion. 
Walking you to the patient room furthest from the potential public eye, he retells the new hire’s mistake. You find yourself in the same mindset as Dr. Miller as you silently thank them for not being more careful. 
“You could’ve rescheduled me, you know,” you tell him, eyebrow raised. 
“Yeah, I know,” he quips as he opens the door for you. 
You step inside, turning around to face him. “So why didn’t you?”
The door clicks shut, and Dr. Miller’s now face-to-face with you, head tilted down to meet your challenging gaze. The air in the room becomes dangerously charged. 
“I think you know why, angel,” he says, scarily smooth. 
You don’t back down. “Enlighten me.”
He takes a step closer to you, forcing you to step back. “Why should I? When that very reason is right between those legs already crying for me, huh? I bet she’s a fuckin’ mess already, ain’t she?” 
You gulp as your ass hits the exam table, not realizing that Dr. Miller has been slowly cornering you. 
Without giving you a moment to respond, his lips are crashing into yours, his large hands grabbing onto either side of your face to keep you against him as your body melts into his hold. His tongue licks across your bottom lip, and your mouth opens, letting him in. You mewl into his mouth, each of your tongues lapping one another’s flavors, your senses immediately being consumed. 
The kiss breaks, and you both are frantic. Your hands grab onto the exam table behind you and you hoist yourself up, your fingers already finding the hem of your shirt as you rip it off, letting it fall to the ground. Dr. Miller practically growls at the sight, his chocolate brown eyes blackened with pure need. 
He shucks off his white coat, letting it join your top as he pounces on you again. He nips at your bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth and letting it go with a pop as he drags his scruffy face across your jaw and down your neck, biting pretty little bruises everywhere his mouth touches. 
Your hands find the bottom of his shirt, taking the liberty of pulling it off and whining when it gets caught over his broad form. “Patience, angel, I’m not goin’ anywhere this time,” he coos, his eyes genuine. 
You huff out in mock annoyance, your eyes silently thanking him for the reassurance. You pull back to let Dr. Miller take off the upper portion of his scrubs. Your irritated façade is quick to fade as your eyes coast his body: his broad shoulders and tanned chest, the product of laborious activity throughout one’s life; your eyes drag down to his softer middle, the product of a happy, indulgent life. Your spit is suddenly thick. 
Dr. Miller’s thumb comes up to rub across your bottom lip. “Ya alright? Got a lil bit of drool right there,” he taunts. 
You tilt your head and take his thumb in your mouth, letting your spit coat his digit generously as your hands pull him in by his waist, your fingers scratching the expanse of his sides and his belly. “So fucking sexy,” you murmur, eyes alight with hunger. 
Unable to verbally deal with the compliment, Dr. Miller pulls his thumb from your mouth, settling his hand on your jaw as he pulls you in to kiss your lips again. It’s much softer this time, more savory. He takes his time with it, and it has both your resolves breaking as Dr. Miller’s free hand finds the clasp of your bra and undoes it with ease, the article joining the haphazard pile on the floor. 
Dr. Miller kisses down your neck once again, your body leaning back to give him more access. His mouth goes straight for your hardened nipple, his tongue circling the entire area before putting as much as he can in his mouth and sucks.His hand fondles your other breast while he works the one in his mouth. You’re moaning and writhing at the stimulation, your pussy utterly leaking past the barrier of your pants and onto the exam table. 
“Dr. Miller, please,” you gasp. “Please- need more,” you moan, eyes rolling back at a particular nip to your bud. You can feel him smile against you, his mouth relenting only to move to your other breast. Dr. Miller is all about detail, of course he needs to make sure every part of you receives ample attention. 
He releases you with a pop, a devilish grin on his face as he stands back to his full height. His hand snakes to your front, the pads of his fingers rubbing softly at your clothed center, your slick completely soaked through. “Ya need more?” He drawls. “Tell me what you need, baby,” he says sickeningly sweet, his entire hand moving to cup your sex, the squelch of your arousal making his cock twitch. 
“Fuck-” you squeak, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. “T-touch me, p-please,” you stammer. 
To outsiders looking in – hell, to even you – it’d seem as though Dr. Miller is entirely calm and collected, at ease in the way he’s been teasing you. Yet, with the way his cock is straining the material of his scrubs and the way his chest heaves, he is anything but. He is so far gone, he nearly wanted to rip your clothes off in the waiting room and take you over the fucking counter. But he didn’t, much to his displeasure, but he tells himself the buildup is worth the wait. And, fuck- with you? It’s so fucking worth it.
“I am touchin’ you, darlin’. Touch how? Use those words, sweet girl, I know you can,” he tells you, squeezing your cunt in a way that has your belly doing flips.
“Oh, God-” your head rolls back, body on fire. “F-fuck me, Dr. Miller, n-need your- fuck- need your cock, need it so bad,” you plead, eyes tearing up the more you speak. The man finally broke you. 
Dr. Miller smiles wildly. “Atta girl,” he rewards you, “I’ll give it to ya,” he breathes. “Lord knows you’re all I been thinkin’ ‘bout,” he admits as his fingers begin nudging your pants down. 
“Yeah?” you breathe softly as you lift your hips for him. Even in your aroused craze, you can’t help but soften at the admission. “Haven’t been able to stop thinking about you either,” you tell him. 
This is so much more than a fucking hookup, you both think. But you ignore that fact for later. 
Shaking off the emotion, as soon as your pants join your clothes, you lean back, settling your elbows behind you to keep you up. Letting your legs fall open, you quirk your brow. “Well, cowboy?”
That brings his attention back. His eyes are fixed on your shiny cunt, his tongue twitches to drink you up. But, no, this is about you this time. And what you want is to be full. He’ll give it to you. But, first-
“I was too big for you last time,” he states matter-of-factly. 
“I-” your eyebrows furrow. “What?”
“I hurt you last time.”
“No you didn’t-”
“I could tell it did,” he rebuttals. 
Without another word, he steps out of the exam room. A beat passes and he’s back – with a fluffy pillow. 
“Um-”
“Lift,” he states. 
You lift your hips up, and Dr. Miller places the pillow underneath your lower back. “This should help open your pelvic floor more,” he says. “And ease the tightness of the position,” he adds.
And it does. 
“Oh,” you whisper. “Thanks,” you say, your cheeks heating up at the action. 
He leans over you to kiss your tummy before his hands settle on the insides of your thighs. “You okay?” He asks. His thumbs rub up and down, dangerously close to where you’re leaking for him.
“Mhm,” you hum, not trusting your voice anymore. 
“I’m gonna fuck you,” he says. 
“Oh, God, please-” you whine impatiently. 
“But I needa touch you first, angel, I don’t wanna hurt you. Please?”
How can you say no to that? To his thick fingers and the way you know he can use them so expertly? How can you say no to the hands that have built his career or to the hands that’ll easily make you fall apart just as much as you know his cock would? You’d be an absolute dumbass to say no to that.
“Okay, Dr. Miller,” you say, voice shaky in anticipation. 
“Joel,” he offers.
Your heart skips a beat. “Joel?” you question. 
“Mhm,” he hums. “My name- well, first name, I guess,” he pauses. His fingers move closer to your core, the softest of touches ghost through your seam. You take a sharp breath in. “Just tellin’ you cuz I wanna hear you moan it when I make a mess a’ you. I bet it’ll sound real pretty, baby.”
His thumb finds your clit, then, and you do exactly what Dr. Miller – Joel – wanted. You moan out his name deliciously, sending him groaning at the pang of desire shooting up his spine, his cock weeping for attention. 
“Fuck yeah, angel, that’s it. Knew you’d sound so fuckin’ gorgeous, fuck-”
His thumb continues its assault on your throbbing bud while the middle finger on his other hand rubs through your wet folds, collecting up the arousal before he pushes into your entrance. 
It’s an easy push, his fingers are thick, so there’s still a slight stretch amongst the pleasure. The work he puts in with both hands has your hips bucking in his touch, and it eases your body enough for him to slip his ring finger along his other. 
His two fingers fuck into you at a sweet pace, the length of him reaching places your own fingers have never felt before. It’s pure ecstacy. “Oh, Joel, yes- shitshitshit, that feels so fucking good,” you cry, your head lolling around like a bobblehead, your body falling weaker and weaker the more he plays with you. 
“Yeah, baby? Like that? That feel good?” He grunts, his heart beating a mile a minute at how fucking pretty and wild you look and sound from his fingers alone. “So fuckin’ wet, baby,” he snarls. “You know what, pretty girl?”
“What?” you whine, trying your best to keep your eyes open and on him as your head begins to tingle from how hard you’re panting. 
“I think you’re ready to take me, baby, I think she’s so fuckin’ ready,” he grins, his fingers adopting a come-here motion, your sobs reverberating throughout the tiny exam room. 
“Come for me first, pretty girl, make a mess on my fuckin’ fingers, and I’ll give what you’ve been crying for,” he all but demands as he looks down and lets a big glob of his spit fall directly onto your clit, his fingers gliding over you even quicker in the mixture. 
“Fuck- Joel!” you scream, the spit being the action that completely throws you over the edge. 
“Jesus, angel, fuck-” he stills his fingers, letting himself feel the flutter of your warmth as you cream all around him.“So fuckin’ perfect comin’ all over my fingers, goddamn, messy fuckin’ girl,” he rambles, his eyes roaming every inch of your body, taking in every twitch, shake, and mewl your body is giving him. 
Your breathing starts to slow, muscles relaxing but not quite over its shaking. He pulls his fingers out of you and brings it directly to his mouth, his cock nearly bursting at the taste of you on his tongue. Another time, he thinks to himself as he bends down to pull the rest of his scrubs off, using the moment to place a chaste kiss to your puffy clit. You yelp at the sensation, a lazy, blissed out smile blesses him, and he can hear his heartbeat thrum in his ears at the sight. 
Joel crowds himself between your thighs again, pumping his cock a few times, his thumb reaching for the precum leaking at his slit and spreading it all over his length. 
“How you feelin’?” Joel checks in. 
“So fucking good, Joel,” you respond, doe-eyed but entirely honest. 
He wants to kiss you so fucking bad.
So he does. 
He leans over you as best as he can in this angle, his length rubbing against your folds as he leans in, his hand wraps at the base of your neck, pulling you in for an open-mouthed kiss – wet, hot, and slow. He pulls away with a blush across his cheeks, and your face is entirely engulfed by flames, too. Did that kiss make him nervous? Did it make you nervous?
Unable to look away from each other, you utter the first thing that comes to mind. “Please,” you whisper, though you don’t really know what you’re pleading for. 
“I got ya,” Joel whispers, pulling himself back to line up his erection with your entrance. 
Even though Joel’s fingers were a stretch all on their own and your body was quick to adjust, you genuinely don’t think anything could truly prepare you for the length and girth of Dr. Joel Miller.
Last week, it was damn near impossible. Thinking back to it, honestly, you think you might want to even thank the nurse that interrupted you two. Still, if Joel hadn’t prepared you today with his fingers, you definitely wouldn’t have been able to take him as fast as you are now.
He pushes in just the tip, and you both gasp at the initial pleasure. Your mewls are more pleasurable than painful this time around, and Joel takes that as the go-ahead to keep going.
“You tell me if I needa stop, darlin’, I’ll stop immediately,” Joel grunts, trying his best to keep slow. 
“God, fuck- Joel, I swear to God, you better not stop- need you so bad,” you lament. He finally pushes himself to the hilt, your rambling continuing as he does so. “Please fuck me, baby, fuck me hard, da-” you gasp and slap your hand over your mouth, catching yourself before you let yourself finish that word. 
Joel pauses all movement, his hands tightly on your hips as his purely black eyes stare down at you. “What’d ya say, angel?”
“J-Joel, I-I’m sorry, I don’t know what-”
“Not my question, babygirl,” he warns softly. “What’d you call me?”
You gulp, opting to just stare at him, silently begging him to spare you of the embarrassment. 
He withdraws from you, all the way out to the tip, then, oh so slowly he pushes back in. He pauses halfway, eyebrow raised. Words.
“Please, Jo-” you start. His hand squeezes your hip in warning. “Please… Daddy, please,” you whine, finally giving in. With that, he pushes in roughly to the hilt, knocking all the wind from your lungs as pure pleasure flows through every nerve in your body. “Oh, fuck!”
“That’s it, angel, such a good fuckin’ girl,” he moans, his thrusts slow but calculated. “Makin’ daddy feel so good, baby, shit-” he tells you, his own eyes finally fluttering shut as he revels in the feeling of the warmth of your walls, tight and fucking perfect.
“How’s daddy’s girl feelin’, baby? Feelin’ good? Hm?” he grunts with a particular thrust forward. 
“So- fuck-” you try to get out, your sweet cries of euphoria cutting you off and forcing you into incoherency. But you’ve experienced enough in this short time with Dr. Miller – with Joel – to know he needs this communication. He thrives on it. So you try your damn hardest. And fuck, it nearly sends him to his end. 
“F-feels so good, so so good- mmm, shit- love your cock s’much, daddy,” you slur, eyes nearly going cross-eyed as Joel’s hips start to move faster, his fingers gripping tight enough to leave little bruises on your waist, a matching set to the marks across your neck and chest. 
The wanton moans spilling from your mouth spurs Joel on, his brain short-circuiting at the feel of your velvety core consuming him. You feel him twitch before he feels you flutter. The sensation wakes you up a little, a wave of confidence overtaking you despite the fervent drive of his hips. 
“You’re close, daddy,” you whine, a mischievous grin across your face. “Can feel you,” you tell him, thrusting your hips softly, attempting to meet his every push and pull with the help of the pillow gliding underneath you. 
“Fuck-” he chokes, his hips only faltering in pace for barely a moment. One hand lets go of your waist and falls where you two are connected. “Need you- shit-” he pants. “Need you to come ‘round daddy’s cock first, pretty girl.” His thumb finds your nerves, slick and sensitive, and wastes no time in forcing you to the brink of another orgasm. 
His fingers circle you, matching the rhythm of his hips, and instantly, your eyes clamp shut, back arching deliciously as you let your legs open impossibly further. “Oh, daddy- oh God, oh fuck- I’m gonna come, I’m gonna-” you yell as your throat becomes hoarse, your chest sinking and rising as you let your body relish in the fire that Joel is throwing you into. 
“Give it t’me, lemme feel you, angel,” Joel urges, his lower tummy flexing as he feels your inner walls spasm and soak his pulsing length.  
“Oh, yes- yeah, fuck- please,” you babble mindlessly. Pulling yourself to sit up, your hand planted behind you, you pull Joel in, lips ghosting each other as his quick breaths fan against your lips. “You gonna come? My pussy that good, daddy?”
Your random spurts of teasing has Joel in all sorts of panic. Usually, he’s one to call the shots, and all his past partners never wanted or requested anything different, but it seems as though he has finally met his match. “Fuckin- Christ, doll- pussy’s so fuckin’ good, baby, daddy’s gonna fuckin- oh fuck-” he keens, pulling out just in time for his cock to spill his entire worth across your mound and your lower belly. 
“Oh my god,” you moan to yourself, your pussy clenching around nothing at the sight of him all over you. 
Joel takes a minute to catch his breath, his eyes scanning every inch of you like he didn’t just violate every Doctor oath he’s ever taken. 
“I think I need to be the one to check in this time,” you let out in a breathy laugh. “You okay?”
He still isn’t looking in your eye, and it makes you nervous. Is he regretting everything now? “Joel?” you call, barely audible. 
His eyes snap to yours before they fall back to where he was looking before. “Yeah, yeah, I’m alright, baby, I just, uh-”
Cutting himself off, he bends down slowly. You watch him, confused but intrigued. He sticks his tongue out, flat, and licks. From your mound to the lower part of your belly, he collects up the salty, milky liquid on his tongue. 
He brings his mouth up to you, his hand finding purchase at the back of your neck. He pulls you into his mouth, his tongue invites itself into your space along with the heady musk of his come, and you welcome it greedily, swallowing every little bit of his arousal that you can.
You break away just before his watch beeps: 5:45pm, fifteen minutes until closing. “That was-”
“I’m sorry, that was disgustin’ I don’t know why I jus’ did that-”
You lean in to nip at him, pulling away with a suck to his pouty bottom lip. “That was hot, Dr. Miller,” you smirk. 
Dr. Miller’s exam rooms, although not often, can see a lot of bodily fluids. Obviously not the kinds that you two have exchanged together, but with the notion of removing casts and such, sweat is bound to get everywhere. So every room holds baby and/or sanitizing wipes just in case. 
He grabs a pack of baby wipes underneath the cabinet and takes out a few. He wipes your entire lower half down, and grabs some more from the pack to wipe himself off. It’s a dance of wobbly limbs as both of you help each other dress back up, you being particularly whiny at how stiff the scrub material is when you try and blame it on his big size. 
“I thought you liked how big I am?” He quips, your eyebrows shooting up in response as you slap his chest. 
All dressed up, you two walk out of the exam room, both you and Dr. Miller on cloud nine as you make your way back to the front office.
Before reaching the door, he grabs on your waist, pulling you against the wall, towering over you. That beautiful Southern gentleman smile bright on display, the kind of smile that has your knees wanting to buckle. 
“I- I had a great time with you,” he says, a little bashful. Sure, the things you did together were otherworldly, but the things that came after? How he was able to help clean you, dress you, and simply just be with you afterwards? He really can’t remember a time he’s felt so right. 
“I did, too,” you tell him. “But, I think…” you trail off. 
His stomach sinks. Here it comes. We shouldn’t be doing this anymore, he knows you’ll say. 
“I think I can’t be your patient anymore,” you whisper with a giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck. 
“Dear God, you just about gave me a damn heart attack,” he huffs, burying his head into the crook of your neck, littering playful nips anywhere he can reach as payback for scaring him. 
You two break out in laughter, it slowly turning into an impromptu makeout session as his lips find yours again, both of you insatiable for one another’s taste. 
You’re so caught up in each other that neither of you realize the front door of the office unlocks, nor do you realize someone is entering the hallway you two are currently in. 
You also don’t hear the gasp coming from the person either, not until-
“Dr. Miller?!”
Shit. 
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harunovella · 4 months
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*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ love language (verse iii); s.g.
synopsis: a first date with gojo satoru? maybe... or maybe not... content: canon divergence (still teen!gojo era!), fem!reader, hopeless romantic gojo, best bros satoru and suguru bickering as always, gojo has given you a nickname (and I will now claim reader and gojo as "gojo and his mochi"), unimpressed nanami, not beta read (sorry for any errors!) note: another addition to my gojo anthology series! I'm having sm fun writing these lil things for myself and you all! also... should I start a tag list? lmk in the replies!
"Nanami Kento, Haibara Yu, and," Yaga Masamichi introduced before gesturing in your direction, speaking your name. "You may know the first two already but we've got another sorcerer to the school roster." Continuing his speech towards his three students that sat before him, Suguru and Shoko listened closely, eyeing a brooding Kento and a smiley Yu... while Satoru gazed at you with the biggest heart eyes. He didn't seem to care if he was obvious, after his first interaction with you ever (possibly the best moment of his life), he made it his goal to see you at least once a day. If you were away on missions, or busy during a lecture, he'd find a way to see you... even if it was from afar. "I want you three to mentor them from now on. Each of you teaming up with one of them and spending at least an hour a day to help them boost up their technique—"
"I'll be partnered up with mochi!" Gojo exclaimed, interrupting his teacher with a hand in the air.
"What's the point of raising your hand if you're gonna interrupt anyway?" Geto teased, earning a look from his best friend as he stuck out his tongue.
"Who... is mochi?" Yaga asked, pinching the bridge of his nose, never quite getting used to his white haired student. 
Pointing at you and speaking your name, you stood there with wide eyes and a blush. You weren't new to Gojo's behavior, after you first met him (helping you rescue your now kitten off a tree), you had plenty of... interesting interactions. At first, it was a lot to take in, seeing as he was very eccentric and grew really comfortable with you so easily, but after some time, you grew comfortable with it. With him. However, him calling you one of his favorite treats was a first. "She's cute like a mochi—"
"Oh, god..." Shoko shook her head as Suguru raised his eyebrows.
"That's a first," Yu spoke up, covering his mouth as he couldn't help but chuckle.
"No," the shared teacher spoke. "You will not be paired with her—"
"What! Why not?! We're best friends!" Satoru whined as you looked away with a subtle blush.
"Psht, that's harsh, am I now forgotten?" Suguru crossed his arms, leaning back in his seat. "What if I want to team up with mochi?" The young man smirked, earning a scowl from his best friend.
"Never call her that again," Gojo hissed, earning a laugh from Geto.
"Enough, you two, she will be partnered up with Shoko. Knowing you two, you'd end up getting her hurt somehow," earning a gasp from the two boys, you couldn't help but smile, biting your bottom lip at the way they reacted. "I trust Nanami and Haibara will be fine in either of your care."
"Ugh," Gojo groaned.
"I suppose that's fair," Geto shrugged, earning a shove from Gojo in which he shoved back. "Who are we teamed up with, then?"
"Geto, you'll be paired up with Haibara," hearing a faint cheer come from Yu, Kento only sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Which means Gojo, you'll be paired up with Nanami."
"Well, if I can't have my mochi, I guess Nanamin is fine!" Gojo crossed his arms behind his head. "No offense, Haibara! Nanamin is just great company to tease," he grinned, earning an eye roll from the young, blond man.
"Perfect, today will be your first day. Report back here in an hour. Get to know one another's abilities better." At that, Yaga dismissed the class, Shoko rushing up to you and interlocking arms as she pulled you out with her. You couldn't help but look back at Satoru, seeing his grin towards  Kento turn into a frown as he looked at you. Sending him a small smile and wave, he waved back, happy that he at least got your attention for the time being.
Weeks then passed after Yaga paired everyone off, though it didn't change how things went—specifically missions—Gojo found another reason to see you. At least, another way to see you. Shoko's RCT required her to be in specific places, so he was well aware of where to find you when he wasn't with his own classmates. Nanami, on the occasion, was dragged along. Forced to watch his senior poorly flirt with you when you (shockingly) didn't seem too bothered by it. Instead, it made you flustered. You seemed to have enjoyed Satoru's attention. Of course, it never lasted long with Ieiri kicking both boys out (or just Gojo if he was the only one there) because she was busy being a good mentor and teaching you.
"I'm bored," Satoru whined as he sat on a bench, eyeing Kento as he trained on the open field. "This pairing up thing isn't all that fun."
"That's because you're not doing your job as my senior," Nanami spoke with a lack of enthusiasm.
"What's there to teach you? You're good as it is," he waved a hand as he sipped at his milk box. "I just wanna see my mochi..."
Sighing, Nanami shook his head before lifting it from his palm as he massaged his temples. A faint smile grew on his lips at the sight of you approaching, it seemed as if Shoko had lead the way before parting to go on her own route. You waved happily as he waved back, only to look at his senior to see that he hadn't noticed you. Grinning, Nanami quietly made his way towards you, his fellow classmate. To anyones shock, the two of you actually grew close. You saw one another like siblings, getting along quite well and actually maintaining interesting conversations. No one would've figured, he was a quiet boy and only really spoke when spoken to, but you brought something out of him. You always found something to speak about. Maybe it was your shared love for baked goods, or the possibility that you weren't annoying like most of the people around him. You were timid, but you were also very kind and social with those you were comfortable with. "How'd it go today?"
"Good, Shoko is very skilled, it's a shame we don't focus much on her technique. RCT is very important, no one does it like her." Smiling up at him as the two of you bumped fists, you then peeked over to Satoru, who was now lying on the bench, completely unaware of your presence. "Is he okay?"
"Being lazy as always," Nanami shrugged, but you slightly frowned. "Don't worry about it."
"What are you two babbling about?!" Gojo called out, not realizing who he had been yelling at. 
"I'll catch you later..." the blond said before patting your head, then walking away.
"Hey, I asked you a—" Sitting up and realizing who he had been yelling at, Gojo's eyes widened as he gulped. "Mochi!"
"Hi, Satoru," you greeted with a kind smile, causing him to blush. "Long day?"
Instantly standing up, nearly tripping over his own feet, he shook his head. "No! I was just... taking a break! Y'know... training others can be so tiring," he frowned while slumping forward as you let out a small laugh. "Especially someone as skilled as Nanamin!"
"Right," You nodded. "I hadn't seen you all day. I was thinking..."
Blinking a few times as he watched you approach, Gojo gulped, "yeah?"
"We should get an early dinner—"
"Now?" His eyes widen as he stood straight, earning another laugh from you.
"Mhm, or later, whatever you prefer—"
"Now! Now is good," He nodded, meeting you halfway before he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. "I know the perfect place! Plus, right next door, they sell some delicious mochi..." He grinned as you smiled up at him.
"Is this our first date?" Gojo teased as you sat on a bench, sharing a box of mochi. The dinner was as great as he had promised, a cute little restaurant that Gojo frequented. Satoru tried his best to impress you with his cooking skills, only to burn half of what he ordered. You couldn't help but laugh it off, deciding to cook the rest—in which he praised your skills (and promised to improve his own for the next time). For someone trying to do some impressing, he's constantly teetering between being shy and letting his confidence kick in (even if it was false, trying to win you over).
"Hmm, I was the one who asked to go to dinner," you said, biting into your mochi. "Shouldn't I decide that?"
"Wait!" Gojo lifted his hands, pulling the box of mochi away as you tilted your head. "I took us here to get our dessert," he nudged his head back, towards the stand. 
"So..." you trailed. 
"So... this could be our first date!" He beamed, earning a look from you as you playfully lifted an eyebrow.
"Maybe."
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kasarasun · 3 months
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what if I made a thing or it already was that while Airplane wrote the world, Peerless Cucumber illustrated it (only the animals. And Binghe, fighting the animals.) And then then then
He'd totally do it on an alt account, right?? Peerless Cucumber can't be seen making fanart!! (And he's good at it. Like, wiki is using his art in the monsters and beasts pages (that Peerless Cucumber volleyed for. He also separated it from the plant section.) Because 1 its good 2 the artstyle is consistent 3 there isn't a lot of monster official art, other than that one with the black moon rhinoceros python and those other ones and 4 it's really that good)
Haha incomprehensible parenthesis nesting aside, Airplane is watching the forums, right? Not sure about other stuff in canon but he looks at the forums and the fanart and the fiction and most of it is probably corn and binghe and just a little bit of mobei-jun and also the wives tm but!! There's also that guy!!! The monsters guy!! (People would probably suspect 'Drawing the Beast's Ire'- or some other sex euphemism I'm not good at making those- of being Peerless Cucumber because 1 the writing style is the same 2 Peerless Cucumber is the number 1 contributor to the PIDW wiki and a lot of it is the monsters and beasts section and it makes sense, yes??) Anyway, Airplane shooting towards the sky suspects but not too seriously suspects Mr ire of being cucumber's fanart alt but uh uh that ends pre-transmigration section
So, Shen Yuan starts running about, right? Things seem really... familiar, maybe thats the word?- for some reason. This is because every animal and plant he's ever drawn, sketched- maybe even thought about but that's a stretch?- is his design. The firefly parallels hold their forelimbs like butterflies. That is how far down it goes. Maybe it doesn't come up until later, but beasts and monsters from fanfiction get involved, oc species, too... anyway,
Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky transmigrates 30 years (iirc) before Peerless Cucumber. He was an avid enough follower of Drawing the Beast's Ire to recognize that these are their designs! Here's where it gets really crazy. Xiao-Mobei comes along, and while he's still pretty young, Airplane can tell that this is Drawing Ire's design! Some aspect, maybe his ears or teeth, (this isn't a well built theoretical tangent) of Mobei isnt canon. Its Drawing Ire's. From that one Northern Kingdom collection. Whatever stretched his world building into coherence, completion, didn't just pull from fanwork, official art, whatever it could find, it went for Drawing the Beast's Ire's designs specifically. Damn that's crazy Airplane ahahaha moving on,
This is getting really long so I'll be a bit more concise, (want to know more? Talk to me. Please talk to me. I want to interact with the fandom. Ask me questions. Poke your fingers into my cage.) This all comes to head at the Immortal alliance conference. The monsters and beasts really start pouring in! And Shen Qingqiu/Yuan remembers his creations. However, he assumes that this is because like 1 other person maybe was Drawing ghost head spiders.
Hey, Peerless Cucumber really liked the monsters, right? The deadlier, crazier, more intricate, the design the better! So maybe, when he was drawing, he... added some things, really believable, logical additions, really just small creative decisions...
Anyway, the monsters that Drawing the Beast's Ire made were where it came to a head.
Lets have another Canon divergence. Maybe, during or after Binghe gets pushed in, out of the rifts comes a species that Drawing Ire created. It's beautiful, poisonous, beloved, and really quite deadly. Shen Yuan/Qingqiu, Peerless Cucumber, Drawing the Beast's Ire... realizes, quite like airplane before him, that he's illustrated, practically sculpted with his own hands, monsters from the Endless Abyss with claws and teeth and poisons as deadly as Peerless Cucumber thought that the really cool monsters could deserve. It feels like he's the one cutting, biting, poisoning his sweet little sheep. It feels like he's digging out the marrow from his little white lotus disciple's bones.
Ok it is shut up time 👍
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