#FORGOT HIS SPIDER TATTOO FUCK!!!!!!!

[kajoodles]

oh my gosh its him powerpuff girls

[3rachasdomesticbanana]

Crazy in Love | Han Jisung

Saw a post awhile back saying that they wanted to see a Jisung/Joker smut. I wrote this months ago but wasn't sure how I felt about it so it's just been sitting in my drafts. I wouldn't really say there's a plot with this one.

Synopsis: You're bored and wanna play. Who cares if J.One is in a meeting for world domination? It's never stopped you before. He'll ruin your makeup and end lives just fine.

Pairings: Crime boss Jisung x Female Reader

Content Includes: smut, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, Dom Jisung...sort of?, slight degradation and name calling, brief mention of violence and guns, hair pulling, I'm sure I forgot something lol

Want more smut? Follow the 🍌

“Mista J!” you sing-song, skipping into the room wearing nothing but a red and black lace bra and leather shorts too short to be considered anything but underwear.

Jisung sits surrounded by his worthless minions at the head of the table. They all pretend you don't exist, of course. Not one eye looks in your direction; if they did… well, their brains would decorate these four walls. Like the king he is, Jisung sits on a throne of premium leather that you were handed when you walked into the store. Really, the fancy schmancy furniture store just gave you whatever you pointed at. Okay, fine, maybe it had something to do with the two double-barrel sawed-off shotguns you held, but that's beside the point.

There's nothing too good for your Jisungie. There's not a thing you wouldn't do for this man. You would die for him, you would kill for him, raise hell with him, making the city cower as king and queen. You love every moment of it. Straddling and looking pretty on Jisung's lap, you kiss him. It’s sweet on your end, but he takes it a step further, making it hot and messy, drawing porn-worthy moans from you.

"Mmm, Mista J.One… If I didn't know better, I'd say you were trying to fuck me on this table right in front of everyone," you tease, a mischievous glint in your eyes. He responds with a wicked, deadly grin that sends a rush of heat to your core.

"Lovely, I had to kill at least a dozen men after the last time. I can't risk that happening now, can I, pet?" he says, his voice low and dangerous. His eyes flick up to the center of the room where his men sit, the intensity of his gaze daring any of them to look in your direction.

The way he glares, daring anyone to even glance at you, thrills you to your core. The reckless and dangerous aura he exudes turns you on, knowing he's willing to burn the entire world down for you, taking down anyone who dares to look at you. You pout and wiggle your hips, a soft whine escaping your lips as you feel him, hard and ready, pressing against you.

“Let me play, baby,” you whisper, leaning into him and licking the heart-shaped spider web tattoo on his neck.

He groans and shivers, bucking his hips up, making you squeal with delight and lust as his zipper brushes against your cunt. The damned leather is getting in the way of feeling more than you want, but that's okay; your mind is set on something bigger and better. You wriggle again, and he growls, the sound reverberating deep within you. Any other person would be scared, but you eat it up, craving more.

“What are you waiting for, lovely? Get on your knees for me,” he demands, his voice soft and dark, like feathers on a raven.

You almost fly up from his lap with excitement, hurrying to kneel between his thighs, looking up at him through your long lashes. The thing about this throne that caught your eye was the little footrest it came with. It's your favorite spot. Some days you sit there just waiting for him to use you any way he pleases. Your excited, maniacal giggles echo throughout the room as you reach behind your back to unclasp your bra. Your breasts bounce free from their confines, and you swing the garment around your head like a lasso, letting it fly free. You have no clue where it lands, but from the sounds of it, it seems to have landed on some poor guy's head.

Jisung smirks and cocks his head to the side, slowly looking in the direction of the unfortunate soul. "Oopsie," you whisper, reaching out to unwrap the present in front of you.

When Ji is satisfied that the man won't move, he looks down at you with his cock in your hands. You marvel at the size, as always, appreciating him, worshiping every inch of him. With loose fingers, you guide your hand up the length of his cock, feeling the heat radiate from the impressive muscle. Your mouth waters in anticipation and you smile up at him.

"Oh, Mista J, you're so hard for y/n." you purr, your mouth getting closer to the head of Jisung's cock.

The leather squeaks when he grips the arm of the chair, letting you take the lead... for now. You are his queen, after all—his beautiful nightmare. Damn it, if he didn’t have to go through with this fucking meeting, you would be bent over the table, drooling while he pounded his cock into every one of your fucking holes. Jisung is pissed, but only a little. These fuckers in the room better not dare look at you while his trigger finger is itchy.

With a wave of his hand, the meeting resumes, and you can hear the men shift uncomfortably, speaking about whatever plan for world domination Jisung's genius mind concocted. You ignore it all, too focused on watching the precum increase the more you play with Ji’s cock. So much more fun than any video game you were playing moments ago. You need him to make a mess of your makeup.

Every touch, every stroke sends a jolt of pleasure through both of you. Jisung’s eyes, dark and intense, flicker with a blend of rage and lust as he watches you. He’s a volcano on the verge of eruption, held back by the thinnest thread of control. Your breath shakes as you feel the weight of his cock in your hand, the slickness of his precum making each movement smoother, more urgent.

He exhales sharply, a barely audible groan escaping his lips. The power you hold over him in this moment is exhilarating, each pump of your hand drawing a reaction from him.

"Such a pretty cock you have, Ji," you whisper, blowing cool air over him. You watch with delight as he makes it bounce for you, the sight eliciting a soft, approving hum from your lips.

More crazed laughter from you rings out through the room, and Jisung loves it. He revels in the way you make the men in the room flinch. They're just dying to look at you, their fear mingling with desire.

"All the better to fuck your pretty mouth with, y/n, and that pretty cunt of yours," he replies, putting a crude emphasis on the word "cunt" and laughing loudly.

His laughter is just as insane as yours, but far more psychotic and unhinged. That's because he is certifiably insane. You would know; you're the one who diagnosed him. His psychosis, however, makes you feel safe. It's almost as if it connects you two in a way that psychology cannot explain. The two of you put on a show for the men in the room, mentally synchronized and wondering who will be the first to break. Knowing that cold steel is right underneath the chair, Jisung will make quick work of eliminating the weakest one.

When you flick your tongue out to lap up the liquid that now coats the tip of his cock, he shudders and leans his head back, licking his lips. The voices around the room waver, but they continue as if you aren't here. Good boys. Now it's time for Jisung to be a good boy for you and lose his mind. You gasp in delight and lick your lips, humming.

“Mmm, so tasty. Whaddya say, J One? Can I be greedy tonight?” Batting your lashes up at him, you grin.

His hand grabs the back of your neck tightly, but not uncomfortably, and he leans down, getting closer to your ear.

“Take it all and leave no drop behind, and you'll get a reward for being so good.” He slams his mouth onto yours in a crushing kiss, both physically and spiritually.

He leans back, fingers massaging your scalp, petting you while watching whatever presentation his men are rambling about. Your tongue gets to work, starting at the base, trailing up and over every ridge and vein along his cock. You lick every surface, coating him and savoring how his hands begin to become less caressing and more rough. The sound of voices fades into the background. All your focus is on Jisung and his cock now.

Heavy and warm against your tongue, you take him deeper and deeper, further than you've ever allowed yourself to go. He lets out a slow, deep groan and fists your hair when the head of his cock presses against the back of your throat, and you keep going. It's hard to focus on your breathing, to keep it steady and even, when he's making those sounds. You've never heard him sound as desperate as he does now. He doesn't care who hears him or sees him vulnerable like this though. Only an idiot would use this moment against him.

The feel of his fingers tightening in your hair, the taste of him on your tongue, the vibrations of his groans echoing through your body, it's better than any psychedelic drug in the world to you. You can feel the tension in his thigh muscles, the way his hips involuntarily twitch, seeking more of the pleasure you're giving him. Jisung's breaths become ragged, his control slipping with each movement of your tongue and each press of your lips.

“Shit, lovely. Fuck, mm.” he whispers, closing his eyes momentarily before opening them again to survey the room.

You know there's no way he's paying attention to anything but your lips wrapped around him, and you're right. Jisung couldn't care less if anyone was watching; he'd check the footage from the cameras later and deal with anyone who thought it was a good idea to watch you suck him off. For now, he loves how amazing you feel as you force his cock deeper down your throat. He doesn't mean to make the noises he does, but how could he hold them back when his queen loves hearing him be so vocal? He can feel your smirk, knowing that you have him wrapped around your finger.

Your tongue swirls around the head of his cock, savoring the taste and the way his body tenses with each movement. Every moan and groan that escapes his lips fuels your determination to take him deeper, to push him further into ecstasy. His hands fist your hair more gripping it tightly, to steel himself against the overwhelming pleasure.

"That's my lovely baby. Ah—yeah, gonna fuck you till you can't stand later, y/n. Do you hear me?"

You hum in response, the vibration of your lips sending shivers through his body. He whines and growls, balling his free hand into a tight fist, so tight that his knuckles start to turn white.

"Fuck, babe… gah!" He stiffens his legs, forcing himself not to buck up and make you choke on his length. He wants to wait until you've taken him all the way down your throat for that. "Ke-keep going. Yeah, nice and s... s-slow," he continues in a husky, breathy whisper.

Once you have every inch of him in your mouth, he waits for you to pull up a couple of inches before forcing your head back down. You gag and cough as he repeats the motion again and again. Your eyes water, and tears stream down your face from the relentless thrusting of his cock hitting your throat. He's fucking your face now, using your mouth like a fleshlight, controlling you by your hair. And you're soaking through your panties, coating the leather shorts with your arousal.

“Fuck, mm! Y/n... wrap your lips tighter. Mhm, just like that, baby. That's a good girl.”

You want to rub your clit so badly, but you'll topple over backward if you let go of the hold you have on Jisung's thighs. So, you squeeze your legs together tightly, releasing over and over while Ji has his way with you. His pre-cum oozes down your throat, steadily leaking like a faucet. The friction you're creating feels so good you could cum just from that. Your moans vibrate more, sending him into a feral frenzy. He feels his balls tighten, and he gets louder, grunting each time he rams his cock down your throat.

Jisung filling your mouth completely so harsh and fast is overwhelming. You can taste the salty tang of his pre-cum mixing with your saliva, creating a slick, warmth that coats your tongue. Each thrust makes your pussy ache with need, the pressure in your core building feeling almost unbearable. The heat of his body, the firm grip on your hair, makes your head spin.

His thrusts become more erratic and his grunts turn into desperate moans. You can feel the pulse of his cock on your tongue, the way it twitches and hardens even more.

“Daddy's little monster sucks cock so good. Isn't that right, gentlemen?!” Jisung questions loudly. A few agree hesitantly, not knowing how to answer, and those few would be gone by morning.

Why? Because how would they know that you're good if they weren't watching your performance? Jisung is a smart man; most psychopaths are. With a smirk and a moan, he thrusts upwards while pushing your head down into his lap. Your makeup is a mess, just the way you wanted. Tear streaks run down your face, and you're satisfied with your appearance. You'll be even more satisfied when he cums and even more so when he fucks you later.

“Every. Drop. Y/n. Swallow every fucking drop I'm about to give you. You ready, baby? I'm so fucking close.” he grinds out, gritting his teeth and his grip on your hair tightens painfully making you wince.

His hips jerk as he forces you down, the rough fabric of his pants scratching your cheeks, adding to your ruined face. Your heart pounds in your chest, matching the rhythm of his increasingly erratic thrusts. The sounds of his grunts and your muffled moans create a symphony of depravity echoing off the walls.

Jisung's mind is a funhouse of madness. If you were to open it up right now, the maniac's mind would be full of murder, mayhem, and you. It's a joke the way you make him feel—the best joke ever. How hilarious it is that a woman like you can make him weak, make him shiver all over, and become a moaning, whining mess. Your lips look so tantalizingly puffed out around him he almost wants to coat them with his cum, but he did say for you to swallow every drop, and he's a man of his word. He sees everything through, no matter how tempting it is. The humming you're doing on his cock is driving him madder than he already is. Oh god, do your lips feel so good to him. Jisung growls deep in his throat, a guttural sound that signals his impending climax.

“Take it, baby. Take it, y/n. Right. Fucking. Now. Oh, fuck!” His hands force your head down as he shoots rope after rope after rope of cum down your throat.

It hits the back of your throat forcefully and pools there until you relax, letting the warm, salty liquid easily go down. You swallow every drop he gives you, just like he told you to, the action drawing a final shuddering moan from him. Another growl and he's quickly pulling your head back and picking you up. You gasp for air as he spins you around and lays your stomach flat against the hard white surface of the table.

“GET OUT!” he yells, and every man in the room scatters. The one with your bra still on his head tosses it onto the table with shaky hands, sporting a very uncomfortable-looking hard-on. “Fuck if I'm waiting to fuck you.”

Your tight shorts are forced down roughly, and he rams his cock into your cunt, making you scream. He’s rough, really rough, and his thrusts are fast, creating a delicious mixture of pleasure and pain. Pain and pleasure, pleasure and pain—mix the two, and you've got the base of you and Ji’s relationship.

“Harder, Jisung, ah! Fuck me harder, please.” you beg him, and he laughs maniacally again.

He smacks your ass before reaching around and grabbing you by the neck. The slapping sounds of your bodies coming together are so loud that they cover up your yelps of pain when he does as you asked. It hurts so good you become incoherent; you don't even hear Jisung when he says that this will be all you're good for. It's a joke, his best yet if he's honest with himself, which he won't be. He'll pretend that he keeps you around just to fuck but he knows Gotham only has one queen, and that's you. He just doesn't want to admit that the way your cunt holds him and pulls him in, is the reason for his insanity now.

“Fuck, I'm gonna cum again, y/n.” his legs tremble with each long stroke inside you.

“C-cum, Jisung! Oh god, I'm there. Right… right…” Inhaling deeply, you let go, moaning loudly cumming on Jisung's cock and he follows you, filling your cunt.

“That’s my lovely—mmph! Filling your pussy to the brim. My sweet, deranged cum slut.” He pulls you back into him by your throat, finding your mouth and placing a possessive kiss on your lips. “Surrender your existence to me, y/n and let’s watch the world burn, darling.”

“Everything that I am, Mista J you already own. Let the ashes rain, baby!” You throw your head back with a crazed laugh and Jisung joins you, holding you tight in his arms.

✧ 𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔏𝔦𝔰𝔱 ✧

@resi4skz @3rachasninja @moonlightndaydreams @rylea08 @hanjiphile @krayzieestay @oddracha @ldysmfrst

•If you want to be tagged in future posts let me know here•

[catacombbee]

school bus graveyard headcanons because im thinking about them

and because im projecting

just general / random headcanons

Tyler has arachnophobia and entomophobia. creepy crawlies are a HARD NO for Mr. Hernandez. Jackass bullies? No problem. Phantoms trying to eat him? Easy. Tree? Been there, done that. Fucking spiders? get it the FUCK away. mans has a visceral skin crawling reaction to even SEEING something creepy crawlie. it's one of the only things that makes him seriously panic other than yk someone being hurt

Ashlyn has autism yes this is basically canon i think. BUT Ashlyn has a lot of texture sensitivities both with clothes and with food. itchy scratchy clothes are a no. she cannot stand t-shirts keeping their tags they rub and scratch her neck and it makes her want to scream. she cuts the tags out before wearing anything. and food she can't have anything too squishy or tough or else she just loses her appetite entirely.

^^ to build on the clothing tags. everyone else in the group cuts the tags out of their jackets/hoodies and some shirts so if Ashlyn wants to borrow something she can be comfortable

Aiden is down bad for someone wearing his clothes. this can apply to any ship you want, i like him with Ashlyn Tyler or Logan (ive like never seen any talk abt Aidgan? Loden?) but regardless. whoever it is Aiden likes he gets so giddy butterflies giggly seeing someone wear his clothes. this is moreso for Ashlyn or maybe Logan because Ashlyn is so much smaller than Aiden that his sweatshirt would probably hang off her and Aiden would just abdjshfkefbns she's so cute!! this is mostly an Aidlyn hc for me but Logan would also be cute in anyone else's sweatshirt

uh if it's not clear by now im a multishipper ive said it before BUT i like Tyben a lot. they find calm and quiet in each other and bond through expressing themselves through something much healthier: music. i adore Tyben. AND because of Ben in the canvas webtoon: Tyler calls him ladybug. "Hey ladybug" "It's okay ladybug ive got you" "ladybug, you okay?"

kinda related to previous one but like blush hc. Ben does not blush. maybe a little pink on his cheeks. but his EARS. his ears get so RED when he's angry or when he's flustered. his face might be 😐 but you look at his ears and they're red you know he's flustered

ALSO everyone learned ASL for Ben so he didn't have to just use notes n stuff. Aiden was already learning but everyone else picked up on it

Logan likes compact spaces, they male him feel safe and secure. Like the tire! He feels very nice and snuggly in his tire. But also like. under beds. in closets (haha). one time they played hide and seek in Aiden's house and Logan won because he fell asleep curled up in an empty cabinet. Logan loves being little spoon because he just fits snugly in everyone's arms

it's been mentioned Tyler plays guitar, but i hc that he's also a really good artist. because he got into baseball for a scholarship he's kinda dropped both art and music, but in getting to know the others and especially Ben he gets back into playing music which leads to him drawing again. he doodles pictures of his friends and they realize what a good artist he is. that's how he realizes he actually has passion for creativity and decides he wants to be a tattoo artist.

(i was writing a tyden tattoo artist Tyler au on a reblog draft from a post @\the-killies made and like forgot abt it. someone peer pressure me if you think that sounds like snth you wanna read. it was probably over 1k words by the time i forgor)

Taylor likes mechanics (cus. the club) but she also knows some programming. this is solely because I think Taylor would like making little robots just for fun. Aiden would beg her to make him a little robot like that one companion toy robot Cosmo

in canvas sbg Logan brought a bunch of clothes for them to wear in the pictures/videos they took. so. Logan likes cosplay and renn faires. History is one of his favorite subjects (the other being science. english/literature is a very close third. he doesn't dislike math just isn't his favorite) so he has a lot of clothes from different time periods because of the renn faires he's been to.

This is a really unhinged headcanon and isn't something ive ever thought about before but thinking about Logan having outfits and stuff made me think who would be the most likely to be a furry. and no not Logan. it would be Aiden. hes rich enough to splurge on his fursuit. THIS IS A JOKE I DONT HC HIM AS A FURRY THIS IS A "WHOS MOST LIKELY TO" PLEAS

Aiden's favorite subject is history, he likes reading about wars but he also enjoys learning about other cultures and differences from how we live in modern day America. Aiden would probably study anthropology just for the fun of it. he and Logan bond over their love of history. Aiden can't remember what he had for lunch yesterday but he can tell you every little detail he knows about the Civil War start to finish, dates and names and locations and all.

this is a really weird hc but. Ashlyn is an amazing rapper. there was a karaoke night and one song someone did had a rap part coming up and they were like ahaha it's too fast for me and Ashlyn just stood up. took the mic. and fucking blew everyone's minds. and then she sat down like she didnt just rock their world

this last bit is self indulgent. assuming the phantom world things don't last forever, the kids get therapy eventually :D

^^ building on that, Ben specifically, he lives in my head rent free. i love him sm. Ben gets therapy for not just the phantom world things but everything beforehand. slowly and surely, starting with Aiden and Lily and maybe whichever person he's shipped with, he starts talking again. Some days are better than others, sometimes he gets quiet again, other times he goes for days talking as much as anyone (except aiden he yaps.) everyone almost cries when Ben is doing something and begins singing to himself because they realize he's better

im gonna do like gender & sexuality headcanons too,,, maybe later. might do silly ship hcs too cus i ship so many pairings here

[kuyurasu]

Spider Lily

Dottore x Reader

Part 1

Part 2

Summary ; Soulmates are tied with their lifespan. After being sold to a man as a slave in sumeru, you forgot about the boy you had saved as a child. He didn't.

WC ; an obsene amount

Reading time ; depends.

Warnings ; a fuck ton. Porn with plot, p in v, mentions of rape and sodomy BUT NOT APPLIED or discussed in further chaps, trauma, severe abuse, slavery, suicidal thoughts, realistic healing, dark side of teyvat basically, heavy sexual content in the future, oral (m+w), praise, degradation, spanking, dom/sub, rough, soft, sweet, mean idc just being rabbits., so many more... don't be nervous, I'm just a little pinch of mentally insane.

... Haunting Adeline, anyone?

Authors note : Enjoy and sorry for being MIA, life fucking me hard-core in the ass. Also, I don't care who reads this. I'm not your fucking mom. I ain't gonna tell you what to read.

Perhaps it was a cruel fate that brought you to where you are now. Something messed up the fairytale, princess wonderland story you were supposed to be in. and somehow, you were here.

If you could curse the gods above, Celestia, and everything, you would. But physically, your tongue was tied. Incapable of muttering but a few words. It was a cruel world to be living in, and while others were blessed, you were in the dirt. Beneath all of them. A slave, they called you. Your own father sold you just so your mother couldn't save you, run away, or live without having a slave tattoo etched on your wrist.

Your father was a cruel man. Heartless, even. He didn't see anything wrong with abuse, it seemed, or treating his daughter or wife like cattle. He cut off the tip of your tongue when you screamed and fought with him as he sold your older brother, ultimately resulting in his death. He broke your bones and scarred your flesh beyond recognition. And then sold you away.

It was when you were 4 years old, though, that you first met the emotion of happiness. It was soft and warm. It started in the center of your chest and slowly spread out to your entire brain. It was definitely infected, yet so beautiful.

"Are you okay?" You asked softly, your eyes softening at the little boy in front of you. He was dirty and breathing heavily, yet he was wearing nice Sumeru clothing. It made your heart ache that he was clearly better than you, and yet, your slightly shorter tongue couldn't stop itself from speaking to him. Your voice was shaky and raspy from years of silence.

The little boy did not seem to mind; he actually had a fascinated look in his eyes at the sight of her semi-cut tongue.

The boy looked around frantically, though, at the sound of yells and searches among the villagers. They were looking for him.

"Please, help me." He asked for you. His bright red eyes were the only thing you could make out from the night sky, the mud covering his body, and his trembling form. Regardless, something struck a chord in your heart to help him. Perhaps it was something that you knew would be direct disobedience to your father, but helping anyone and getting back at him was all that pushed you to help the little boy.

You ran into the house, not even bothering to hide your footsteps until you made it to the small cabinet that hid the medical kit. The forest rangers provided every household in the rainforest with them, and who knew you would be using them on someone other than yourself and your mother?

You ran from the house, soft little breaths escaping your lips as you made it back to the boy with little time passing. You were secretly surprised your father did not hear you, so he must be out somewhere.

"H-Here." You crouched next to him, holding out the medkit to him. The red-eyed boy deftly began to pull everything out and use the supplies with unexpected accuracy for a little child.

You looked up nervously, watching the group of villagers go in hoards as they looked for someone—the little boy, not that you knew that. Not that he told you. He wrapped his injured foot and hand before catching sight of the slavery tattoo branded on your wrist. "What's that?" He asked quietly, his small, pale hand grasping your wrist before you could hide it.

You were stunned into silence for a moment, speechless as to what to say in response. You swallowed before answering, "My father wishes to sell me to Hadanish."

"The slave owner near the desert?"

You gave a small, reluctant nod in response to his inquiry, knowing it was something to be ashamed of, even terrified of. The muddy boy grabbed your shoulders, pulling you close.

"Come with me." He pleaded with you. How could he let the little girl who saved him go into slavery? It would kill him alive. No one has ever shown him kindness before you. He couldn't let his savior just die. He knew what happened to slaves, especially women. He was disgusted at the mere concept of you being in the clutches of Hadanish, a man known for his rape, sodomy, and abuse. You already looked to have experienced hell; he couldn't bear thinking of you experiencing more of it.

"N-No, I mustn't... I have to stay with my mother. sh-she needs me."

He grasped the little girl's cheeks, making them muddy as well, while the yells and hollers of the villagers looking for someone persisted. He shook his head, seeing the tears in the little girl's eyes. It was sad that you already seemed so grown up. "You saved me. I will never forget this. I will save you, I swear." He whispered to you, his heart breaking as he knew he had to leave. He had to go now.

You stammered slightly, your heart pounding in your chest, as you began to watch the little boy stand, taking the medkit with him. "W-Wait!" She called out for him, and luckily, he did pause. "What's your name?" She asked him softly, receiving a faint smile from him.

"Zandik, and yours?"

You whispered your name, only for him to nod and run off into the night.

It has been over 500 years since you were alive. It was weird considering you thought that you'd have been passing away like any normal person... But when you got to 40 years old and you still hadn't aged past 23, you knew something was wrong.

So did Hadanish, but he took advantage of it. He knew that as a slave who had no signs of age or death, you were like the perfect worker. It wasn't until your bones ached and threatened to break after hours of labor that he let you rest, only to get about 5 hours of sleep, and that's being very generous. He sent you to nation after nation in chains as a walking slave to serve from master to master; you wouldn't be surprised if everyone forgot about you—just something like a package for them.

Slowly, over the span of 200 years, you began to believe them. Tormented by what you saw through the ages, by the age of 396, you were so deep and lost in your own mind that it was like all you could think about was doing your labor. Until your bones break, until you throw up and can't think about your own name, until you forget to be.

It was at age 512, 5 years ago, that some person helped you. Practically saved you, as you were near death one particular night.

That morning, you woke up to a strange, nagging feeling. Something is screaming in your brain to get out of there. It was weird. After all the years you had spent completely alone in your head while your body got abused left and right, it was odd to hear a sense of self-preservation still remaining.

It was before 4 a.m. on a Wednesday when you got that dreadful feeling. It was something that you had never truly experienced before. Something in your gut told you that if you did not leave in less than 10 minutes, you'd never wake up again.

Carefully and strategically, you stood; being used to the chains that clamped down on your ankles, you shuffled silently to your current master. Asleep, unaware of whatever danger was lurking near the camp. It set your teeth on edge, the approaching lethalness, but the best you could do right now was get the hell out of there.

Your heart pounded and ached in your chest. It had been so long since you felt like hope was even possible in your situation. Maybe it was when you turned 124 that you stopped believing? You forgot. It didn't matter now. To hell with all the past grievances, you were getting out. Today.

With a shakiness you hadn't experienced in awhile, you reached for your master's pocket. The dogs around you, also chained to the metal post, did not stir. Neither did any of the other people as you slipped your hand around your key—a delicate yellow shade. It caused your breath to stutter as you weakly walked behind one of the tents, carefully unlocking your chains, as the idea of them waking up to their prized forever slave to be escaping...

Yet they were trusting. In over a decade of events and masters, you had never once tried to escape. Before today. It was because, at the ripe age of 4, you were already out working for your father—minor tasks, but still. Then you joined your brother; it was ingrained in your very soul to be a slave. To be a worker. They trusted that their product wasn't even aware she could escape. but they underestimated the power of instincts and wanting to remain alive, even for you.

The key twisted, and the lock came undone a second more. It was like time froze for a long, agonizing second, waiting and listening to anyone waking up to the betrayal—no, the resistance of a slave.

When nothing happened, you took off in a sprint. It felt so weird to fully extend your weak, shaky legs, but you told yourself that it was the most freeing, beautiful feeling. The nation of Natlan was beautiful yet savage; the land was not suited for the unfit, yet luckily for you, being a slave that worked until the skin was completely off your feet and bleeding, you were quite capable of this. It was like the pain of you running for hours on end didn't even phase you; the wheeze of your breaths did not stop you, nor did the trembling of your legs to take a breath prevent you from running all the way until you physically collapsed on the sands of Fonatine, laughing like a fool.

It had been far, far too long since you smiled and laughed until you were gasping for air while your legs trembled. Sore and probably having broken bones from your relentless running, while your head was spinning with exhaustion and dehydration. You were on a delirium high, dying as you lay on the beach.

After so long, you had basically killed yourself by escaping. It didn't make you sad; in fact, you laughed even more. Until you were puking up the water and bread from yesterday's lunch. It was hilarious!

You did all this just to die! It was so...

So… beautiful! It was like nothing you had ever experienced before. A crazed expression on your face as suddenly you could not laugh anymore. Your chest was just falling and rising rapidly while your heart rate shot up to levels you'd never felt before. looking up into the sky with wide, shaky eyes.

For some reason, the little boy you helped when you were just a small child flashed before your eyes. Oh yeah. Did he live a good life? You wondered, Did he suffer but escape earlier than you? Should you have accepted his offer to escape?

Maybe you did have a regret in your miserable life. The one choice you could've made could've changed your very life. What would it have looked like? Would your brother have lived?

"H-Hold me." You whispered out, unable to even lift a finger as you stared up in the sky, unable to breathe any longer as, for some reason, it was like life had swept under your feet...

The water dripped slowly. Just dripping in her open mouth to slowly hydrate her body so as not to put her in shock. Foolish girl, she already looked like she had put her heart through a shock. It was lucky she was even barely alive. Although he couldn't necessarily blame her, not after seeing the several slave tattoos all over her body when cleaning her up.

Perhaps it's for the best that she did such a thing, so she knows what life feels like. Overwhelming would be an understatement. He would probably tell her to look after that insanity she felt for that short amount of time; perhaps she could find life where she found death.

Maybe.

He would have to report to the doctor that he would not be coming back until tomorrow, which did worry him slightly. but if he told the harbinger that he had found another rare experiment item, he would let it pass.

"Foolish girl. The world has done you cruelty, yet I have to use this tactic. Sigh." The man gently placed a damp cloth atop her forehead, cooling down the fever ravaging her insides. She would take a while to heal, but that was why he was here. As a Fatui operative, he had never truly saved a life. It felt nice.

Perhaps she would be suited for a life in Snezhnaya; who knows? All he knew in this moment was that she was dying.

"Your soulmate is probably waiting for you somewhere. C'mon, foolish girl, wake up for them."

[unniekiwi]

Platonic spider x male reader who is kinda like experimental reader except he has black tattoos all around his body and long at hair that reaches his back and stuff, reader has adapted nicely and has a life style like the navi but stays in solitude trying to use the materials in pandora to become as advanced as the stuff on earth, and until spider comes along they both get attached since there is no other humans and teaches spider how to play chess and tells stories of Norse mythology (I really like them :))

𝖠𝗏𝖺𝗍𝖺𝗋 𝖲𝗉𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗑 𝖬𝖺𝗅𝖾! 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋. 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗂𝖼. 𝖯𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝟤.

IM SO SORRY FOR TAKING FOREVER!!! I went with school on a trip for a week and later on, I had lots of exams, homeworks and projects. So I apologise again, and I hope you like it. ♡

꒱࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ꒱࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ꒱࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ

꒱࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ꒱࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ꒱࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ

After living with Spider for several months, you were just like his father. He had thought of telling you about his father's thing, that he is a clone and so on, but he never found the right moment.

Right now Spider was observing how Kiri was taking care of Lo'ak's wounds, he got a huge kick in the ass, anyway, Lo'ak.

- Do you want some kisses on the wounds? - the human approaches the Na'vi turning his head. The blue being simply replies with a - Fuck u man, I fell down because you told me to go to the right, was it an evil plan to dislocate my neck? - Kiri rolls her eyes at her brother's assumptions, which were not very coherent. Spider simply played along and they continued to argue. Until Kiri decided to make the conversation more interesting.

- Spider. - the boy looks at Kiri, Lo'ak just keeps quiet. - When do you plan to tell you-know-who about your father? - Spider tensed and looked to the side.

- Don't know. I never find the time to tell him, I just don't know how he's going to take it… - Spider looks at the ground, Kiri and Lo'ak look at him already knowing what to answer.

- Y/N is the most understanding and intelligent person you can find, do you really think he won't understand you? -

- Mmh. I wish Dad was like that with us… - Lo'ak whispered quietly, Kiri and Spider remained silent.

- I'll see what I do… - he changes the subject quickly, he'll figure out what to do on the way, after all they are right, why would you get angry or upset? - Anyway, Y/N has taught me how to play chess. And wow, it's really hard to beat him. He's too smart. - sits just the brothers and they listen, the Sullys love to hear Spider when he talks about you, his eyes sparkle and he's always smiling, they're glad to know you make him so happy.

- What's the game about? - Kiri asks with a smile and Lo'ak while still in his bubble.

- It's a board with squares. Each opponent has eight pieces and it's about eliminating the other's pieces. His pieces are from… Mmh - shit, names of cultures, he always has trouble remembering the names. - Ah! Yes! Basque, Basque pieces. I like those, they're shaped like humans. He also has the Nordic chess ones but… it's harder. - Lo'ak looks at Spider with an annoyed look on his face. - I'm learning! - Spider pushes Lo'ak's shoulder, just like Kiri he just laughs. Spider had so many things to comment on, he almost forgot the most important thing. Your advanced technology projects with Pandora's natural materials. - Mmh. Do you guys know if any of Pandora's materials have the ability to produce energy? Like humans do? - Kiri and Lo'ak looked thoughtfully at the human. They knew about your projects and wanted to help you, so sometimes they indirectly ask their grandmother and parents about powerful materials, then tell Spider and he tells you. - We'll ask Dad later. - Spider got up and said goodbye. The brothers said goodbye and looked at each other, they understood each other at once, they know you will appreciate Spider's honesty.

Spider, on the other hand, was nervous, he started sweating and didn't know whether to tell you. By the time he realized it, he had arrived at your sweet abode. There you were, sitting there waiting, reading a book, next to the chessboard. You looked at him with a warm smile, he was happy to see you glad and sat down across from you. You started the game, Spider was concentrated from the beginning but little by little he got more and more distracted, he looked so worried that he was sweating. That's when you stopped. - Spider. Are you okay, little one? - you ask him and put your hand on his arm, Spider just looked at you static. His hands were sweating and he was stuttering.

- I-I have to tell you something… I should have told you when we first met, but… it's hard, it's hard even for me to accept. - You answered with a nod and sat down next to him. - My real father is Quarich Miles. My real name is Miles Socorro. Spider is the nickname I got from the Sullys. I'm sorry to tell you now and ruin the moment, but- - you cut him off. It didn't matter to you, it was shocking that he was the son of the most psychopathic person in Pandora, but Spider surely isn't like that. You knew he would never be like him.

- It's all right. I don't care, I'm still going to love you. Because you are my boy. Miles or not Miles, you are who you decide to be. - You tousled his dreadlocks and Spider hugged you with all his strength, he was thanking Eywa for sending you into his life.

The day went by, you were in your hammock with a small blanket. You told him stories of the Vikings, Spider listened and ran his fingers over your black tattoos.

- Freya is the one you like the most? - Spider asked tracing the tattoos.

- That's right. - Spider asked "why?" - She was manifested by humans because she brought regeneration and freedom, as well as fertility, love, lust and beauty. - Spider looked at you with encouragement to keep talking, so you did. - She has wavy golden hair and brown eyes, her skin is as white as snow and she also moved around with a chariot pulled by two big cats: Trjegul and Bygul. She also had a boar, Hildisvini, which acted as a protective talisman in wars. She was a warrior and in her palace, in Asgard, she sheltered half of the soldiers fallen in combat.

- It's very you, that's why you like her so much. - The young boy chuckled under his breath and yawned. - Now… let's go to sleep, I'm exhausted. - You nodded and cuddled together, until you both fell asleep.

[graveyardviolence]

Tell me about your aftg ocs!!

THANK YOU‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

okay okay okay so theres like a dozen of them but ill tell you abt my baby mercer (i may or may not be writing a fic for him)

Mercer Kyrie Reyes | #13, offensive dealer, 20, 5’7”, leo

mercer joins the foxes his sophomore year of college (he transfers) after wymack shows up at the bar he works at and basically forces his hand. this follows the events of tsc, so he & neil are the only sophomores on the team. he has a pretty mild relationship with most of the foxes since he’s not really around them that much off court. moving from bum-fuck nowhere connecticut to south carolina is a bit of a mess.

he majors in drawing (idk)

how he plays on court is usually dependent on how his day has gone. if he’s had a bad say, he won’t be of any use on court

he has a little sister, marcella, who he loves and would do anything to protect. he’s her current legal guardian.

he’s the second oldest, his older brother is 5 years older than him and has gone no-contact with the rest of his family, only really checking in every few months to make sure his siblings are alive. he has one younger brother who’s two years younger than him, and then theres marcella who’s four years younger

he has a sweet tooth that rivals andrews, it’s actually ridiculous bc this man always has candy on him no matter what

HATES spiders & flies (they freak him out)

slushy fiend

he’s vv picky eater & will only eat spicy foods

will drink lemonade no matter the season

he can COOK god hes so-

he enjoys sketching random shit he sees. if his sketchbook isnt on he’ll take a picture of whatever it is that caught his interest- but that’s almost never the case so whenever the foxes see him outside of practice he’s usually drawing

he also writes poetry! nothing serious, but he’ll write what he feels in the moment.

his relationship with wymack & abby is a little shifty. he’s got a lot of trust issues (obv) & parental issues, but abby lets his sister stay with her and keeps her fed, and wymack lets him use the foxes credit card (i forgot what its called) to buy things for her when needed, so it’s as bad as it would be if he were there alone

hes a smartass, of course, and usually gets sent off court for talking shit. he has a habit of taunting other teams. kevin usually falls victim to it during practice. he’s also very flirtatious, with just about everyone, though its usually superficial, he just likes seeing people get worked up

his nails are always chipped with black paint

he’s got his signature leather jacket that he wears no matter the season. it’s got a bunch of different pins and patches sewn into it

he drinks enough energy drinks to have a heart attack, and his hands tend to shake a LOT bc of it

he has chronic migraines! they happen at least once a day (if hes lucky)

very bad insomnia, my mans usually gets like 3 hours of sleep a day if he’s lucky. he tends to nap a LOT

he has tattoos! he wants to open up a tattoo/piercing shop, and he usually practices on himself! for marcella’s 16th birthday he gave her a small sun and moon tattoo on each of her inner forearms

[kurtmustdie]

lmao i fucking forgot to share this

not only do i have unorganized miguel heacanons but i have unorganized HOBIE ones too

i have unorganized random headcanons for all the characters i brainrot over these two are no different!!

identity headcanons first hehe:

hes trans. he probably diyed his hrt and also has top surgery somehow hes magic. (i also think he'd have tattoos over his scars, either super cool bat/devil wings or an intricate spider design on their whole abdomen cant decide ill draw it later 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉)

he, however, doesnt really have any specific sexuality or gender labels they feel like they fit into. theyre attacted to all genders of varying degrees but doesnt really put a label on it. he just exists.

also doesnt mind what pronouns you use for her. any/all. basically.

also also would encourage people to use the weirdest and coolest neopronouns they can think of for zem like REALLY go out there WHATEVER YOU CAN THINK OF.

ADHD haver?? MAYBE???

to the rest acaksdlfj;akdjf:

theyre very crafty and dabble in basically every form of art. music, graffiti, painting, sculpting (mainly with trash or scraps or random discarded items he finds, more on that later on), sewing, whatever. if he can learn to do it she will.

he is super touchy and likes being close to people, but also understand boundaries.

very emotionally intelligent, i feel like this is canon anyway but ill just put it out there, ze can basically sense if someone is upset.

LOVES ABSOLUTELY LIVES FOR talking to new people, will go out of their way to introduce himself to basically everyone, especially new spider-people she meets.

he is a bit of a joker, ofc, but he wont try and push boundaries that he clearly sees or hears from the person theyre talking to. hi people who hc him as being an unself aware dickhead shut up you are very wrong did you even watch the movie.

this one is probably my favorite but he will pick up random things he sees around him and keep them for art projects. cool rock on the sidewalk? its a rock, hes gonna take it. funny lookin bug? might pick it up for a little to look at it and put it back in a safer spot. bottle cap? "mine now". like i said before he likes using litter to make art.

he will stop mid-mission if he sees something cool that he can take home like "oh [riff] cool leaf" and put it in his pocket.

i was referencing this post btw i love this headcanon, absolutely genius, i will steal it ty /lhj

this stealing of random objects from all around the multiverse has caused many lectures for miguel (they arent listening)

they have some kind of control over what texture/color they turn into if xey really think about it but most of the time he just kind of.. lets it do its thing. (sort of like a RainWing?)

shockingly good at vague yet oddly specific threats that are unrealistic but if you really think about it it's like "oh yeah he could totally do that..." but she wouldn't. yknow what im saying right???

while he does live in the 70s where technology was uh... not as popular nor as advanced as they are now, he's aware of modern tech through Gwen, Miles, Pav, DEFINITELY through Margo and Miguel, but she doesn't really use it often. doesnt really see the point.

along with that he also is aware of modern music as well, he has mixed feelings (gwen is probably the biggest influence though she is such a Pinkshift/Paramore/My Chem girlie it hurts to think about)

100% collects record of artists, especially smaller artists, that they like.

if you get them going about music he will talk for HOURS. HOURS until you tell him to shut up, even though fae totally wont listen and will keep going anyway. (just like me teehee projecting is fun <3 )

while hobie does use his guitar as a weapon for some reason he is quite protective of it. they wont try and stop you from touching it or playing it, but he will watch you like a hawk. half out of "oo look another person is interested in guitar" and the other half of "👁️👁️ dont break it i can only do that /j" (a lot of musicians are like that, i would know, im one of them. ha)

loves stray animals. cats, dogs, birds, anything. he will stop to pet them if they let him.

he also will talk to cats like any other person. especially spider cat. spider cat could make a cat noise and he'd act like he understood it. "yeah totally man, i get it. meow."

he can sing like... averagely? he has a good sense of pitch and timing, as most musicians do, but she isnt professionally trained or really does it too often

they will scream though

also really likes messing with makeup and bodypaint. he will spend hours on it if he can.

FUCK I AM SO HAPPY I DIDNT POST THIS IMMEDIATELY BECAUSE I KEEP REMEMBERING THINGS ACK HERES ONE LAST ONE POST THIS AFTER ASH I SWEAR (edit from two weeks later: i forgor): he definitely isnt a morning person. he loves to sleep in. definitely values rest, like a lot. miguel will call him at like 7 am and hobie will flip him off and say 5 more minutes when they really mean 2 more hours.

do i have any more?? hmmm maybe if i remember but this is what i have so far. mostly just silly lil headcanons that arent entirely plot relevant as most of my headcanons are.

[lil-quinnie]

Part I Part II part IV

EXPOSED

modern!gamer!Eddie x f!reader

Warnings +18 : Sub!eddie cursing, dirty talk, grinding, soft!dom eddie at the end, daddy kink, slightly non con, rimjob, unprotected sex, cum eating, exhibitionism, little bit of degration,anal play, let me know if i forgot something.

Word count: 2065

You wake with your phone buzzing frenetically, it's almost 8 am on a sunday, who in the hell was bothering you so early? You opened your eyes slowly to adjust with the light from your cell phone screen. A thousand messages from your best friend, she sends you print screens and a part of a video. You recognize the man's arm holding still a girl, actually, holding a girl's ass up to the camera while he worked on her puckered hole. you've recognized the tattoos on Eddie's arm, the bats and the spider on his chest, you recognized the sound of your sweet moans and the dirty mouth of your boyfriend telling you obscenities while fingerfucking your asshole with mastery.

You sat at your bed, watching in replay the video over and over again, rage filling your veins, not because other people had seen your naked body, they didn't know who you are, nor how your face was. But you felt humiliated!

How could you not? A few ugly nerds watched you being a whining mess to him, like Eddie was a sex god. Of course he is, but he is not always like that dominant, a few nights he is the one crying under you, You wanna get revenge! you want everyone to know how much of a cry baby Eddie was if you pushed the right buttons, and here you are again. Teasing and being a brat while your wish-to-be-a-porn-star boyfriend was playing and streaming to his nerdy friends.

The first time you walked behind his chair, his chat exploded with lots of messages, the majority of them about how hot you are and how he got so lucky, some of them saying how amazing your ass is and they couldn't wait to see your tits too.

He didn't know that you were on that chat, and logged on to your best friend's boyfriend account. The nasty comments making your skin burn, now more than ever you want to eat Eddie alive.

Everytime you approached the computer he turned the screen off, scared about your reaction if you discovered his dirty little secret.

you stopped behind him, your hands working on the tense spot at his shoulder. You fingertips tracing lightly up on his neck, giving his hair a little tug until his face was turned to yours, his lower lips was pressed between his teeths, pleading eyes pierced on yours, you bumped his nose with yours, brushing your lips over his letting love bites on his lip.

"Morning baby boy, missed you at bed" you give him a peck on his lips before heading to the kitchen, filling two mugs with coffee.

"wow! someone woke up in a good mood today, did you enjoy yourself yesterday princess?" he smirked to the webcam, still with the tape on the red light, knowing that his chat probably blows now with the interaction.

"mhm, yeah, you was so good for me baby" you gave him his mug and put yours at his computer table "Actually, you were so good to me that i want to repay to you"

You kneeled in front him, your hands running up and down through his naked thighs until hit the hem of his boxers "wanna make you feel good, baby boy"

Your hands on his waistband pulling his boxers down, letting his cock spring free, resting on his abdomen almost near his belly button making your mouth water. Of course you want revenge but you could do it while having a little fun.

Your fingers circling his cock at the base, giving him the pleading eyes and pouty mouth that you knew he never resisted. 

"sw-sweetheart you don't need t... oh!fuck." but you cut him putting only his pinkish tip unto your mouth, sucking and nibbling while you hands worked up and down at his heavy lenght. 

"You're gonna be a good boy for me and let me use this pretty cock?" your free hands running up his torso, pinching and twisting his nipples lightly, "gonna let mommy play?" 

you deepened your mouth, you didn't reach even the middle of it and he is already losing his shit. 

Eddie's knows his was fucked, if he doesn't let you play with him, you are gonna be sad and he hates make you sad. But if he does let you play with him, everyone is gonna know he is a simp for you.

Eddie doesn't had the chance of thinking, you are bobbing your head up and down, almost sucking every part of his fat cock, your tongue playing with his tip twirling and giving him cat licks, until the sound of pop of you letting his dick exit your mouth causing Eddie's moans.

"Use your words baby, good boys use they words and get rewarded for this" you gave his tip a kiss and your fingertips started to draw patterns on his balls "And bad boys who don't use his words, get punished baby, these are the rules" 

with your hands on his knees, you push him at the same place he put the chair on your time at the video, letting the webcam film all the mess he already is, and you didn't even touch him properly. 

You standed up, giving your audience a full view of your yet covered ass, your eyes never leave Eddie's while you've had your hair in a high bun, you undo the knot of your robe letting the thin fabric slide through your body till it hits the floor. Eddie saw your naked body, nothing covering your soft curves, your soft breast and already erect nipples, he left a little cry escapes at the sigh of your bare cunt, the sound of your voice snapping him from his trance

"I'm gonna ask you one more time, baby" your voice was soft but firm, making him shiver "You gonna let mommy play with this pretty cock of yours?"

"Yes'' He said, you could feel the brattness on his voice, you brought your hand to his neck, heavy pressing his throat making hard to him breath "Yes what?" nothing sweet about your voice now, just angry and demanding.

"Yes mo-mommy, please play with my cock" you can feel the shame on Eddie's face, he was feeling like you felt early morning, he was feeling used and horny, he needed you and needed now.

You kneeled in front of him and, putting all of him on your mouth, your nose bumping into his happy trail, he bucking his hips making you gag on his cock, you pulled over to gain some air and a string of saliva kept you both connected.

He looked at your teary eyes tracing your lips with his tip, you open your mouth giving him space to invade with his big cock, every inch he put on your mouth he whimpers and thank you

"thank you mommy, thank you so much, i'm gonna be a good boy, please, suck my cock, stop tease, please mommy"

"Spread your legs, be a good boy for me shall you?" he was gone long ago, his legs wide, hips leverage shown to the camera not just his cock, but his balls and asshole too. 

You licked a wide stripe from his asshole till the tip of his licking cock, his moans were music from your ears, striking you directly to your wet core.

"Ple-please mommy, more" he cries loud, squirming at the feeling of your tongue circling his hole "let me touch my cock, please mommy, please" you put your tongue at his hole, fucking him in and out until his crying. 

You bring your wet mouth through his mouth, kissing him,he can taste himself in your tongue, making his dick twitch. It was dirty and he loved it about you.

You kissed his neck, sucking the sensitive skin making him gasp every time your lips collided with his hot skin, your hands running at his torso, giving him light scratches, his hips rubbing at your thigh, you feeling his hard cock stain your skin with his arousal.

"Do you wanna ride mommy’s thighs?" he nodded and whined "but mommy have other plans for us baby" was voice was nothing more than soft velvet, your hands on his thigh to his knees, opening his legs one more time 

"you taste so sweet baby, can mommy eat your ass out, you can touch yourself while i do it" you licked his hole making him moan and broughting his hand to his dick, stroking it hard "yes mommy, yes, please please" 

The groans Eddie was making every time your sweet tongue hits his hole at the same time he tugs his dick sloppy, almost hitting his climax. Your tongue inside him, your hand massaging his balls and the sound of your moans drove Eddie to his orgasm, spelling his seed all over his belly and hand with a loud moan whose sound sounded more like a crying in your ears.

"What a mess you made, should mommy licked it clean?What do you think, my good boy deserved it?" you grabbed his hand near to your mouth.

"Y-yes, lick it mommy, i've been a good boy", you put one finger into your mouth, twisting your tongue licking all of his cum, you did it until eddie was clean, he was a mess under you by the time you finished, and you liked the view of him all vulnerable for you.

You stand up from your knees, sitting on his lap, head by his shoulder, face hidden on his neck, giving all the watchers a privileged view, your bare sweat breast, hard nipples because of the cold.

Eddie's hands eagerly trying to cover your naked torso, your mouth runs from his neck to his ear, you contourn it with the tip of your tongue before softly whisper

"I know you filmed me at your live yesterday, baby" , giving him a kiss on the soft spot between his ear and neck, causing goosebumps on his skin.

You took your robe from the floor and put it back, taking the coffee's mugs to the kitchen, Eddie was still gain his air back, from his orgasm, from what you just told him, pulling his boxers back, his thoughts racing at his head, made him feel anxious, he stands to walk to you but he notice the smile on your face, the way you are humming to the shitty music the neighbors was listening, the fresh hot coffee on both mugs, you were happy.

You completely forgot about the camera by the time you approach him again, handing him his fresh coffee and giving him a sweet kiss on the lips "Sorry if I was too rough with you bub, i love you". 

Eddie kisses your temple and hugged you tight, kissing all your face while your chuckled, one of his hands on your waist, his strong grip keeping you at place while he've hold his mug with his free hand, something about his manly features, his thick neck made you clench your thighs seeking for release.

"Daddy?" your sugar sweet voice, bringing a smirk too the boy's face, pulling you closer to his body, your chest pressed on his side, he could feel your nipples at his naked torso

"I've been a naughty girl daddy, i think i need to be punished" 

His hands drops to the fat of your ass, squeezing it and slapping until you was only whimpers under his hand, with a final slap he kiss your cheek

"Go to the room baby, i'm coming right after you" you rush to the bedroom screaming all the way "DON'T BE LONG DADDY, I NEED YOU TO PUNISH ME"

Eddie chuckled by himself, sitting back at his chair, he rolled the bar on the comments session, some guys saying how jealous they are, some others questioning Eddie about his fetiche. He was about to turn the live down when you came from the bedroom to the front of his webcam

"Hey, excuse me guys, now i need my boyfriend to fuck my brain out without you stalkers watching, bye" and just like that you pull the plug of the computer.

"You are a fucking brat, do you know that?" he grabbed you by the throat, nipping your neck and groping your chest "now let daddy punish his bad girl"

[venicebixch]

Crush part 10 (final part)

smut and a little bit of sadness but also plenty of fluff at the end. i don’t know why i had such a hard time writing this part. i keep rereading it and i feel like it’s not very good but idk how to fix it. that’s part of the reason it took so long to post, so hopefully you guys like it. i wasn’t sure what the best way to end it would be. but all in all, this is probably one of my favorite stories i’ve ever written! thanks to everyone who followed along!

“Shit,” I say quietly, quickly putting my clothes back on.

I look at Vinnie and he’s just standing there with a coy smile on his face.

“Stop that,” I whisper, nudging him. His smile gets a little bigger.

“Y/n?” Her voice sounds further away now.

After a minute of silence, I open the door and peek my head out. Vinnie stands directly behind me, his hard on pressed against my ass. He’s knows what he’s doing.

I playfully push him back, and walk out into the room to look out of the bedroom door.

“Is she gone?” he whispers.

“Yeah I think so,” I say quietly.

He comes behind me and swoops me up, throwing me over his shoulder, and I start laughing trying to stay as quiet as possible.

“Vinnie, put me down,” I whisper, gently hitting his back.

“Nah, lady, you’re coming with me,” he starts heading toward his bedroom.

“Y/n?” Liza’s voice sounds close again.

He picks up the pace and we make it into his room right before she sees us.

As he turns to shut his door, my head bounces off the doorframe and I can’t help but laugh. “Ouch.”

He gasps. “I’m so sorry, are you okay?” He says in a concerned voice.

“Yeah,” I say still giggling, rubbing my head. “That probably would’ve hurt a lot more if I wasn’t drunk.”

He starts laughing hard but tries to stay quiet. “You’re a nut,” he says as he gently lays me down on his bed.

I look up at him, smiling. “Speaking of which…” I reach for his belt buckle.

He laughs again, shaking his head and brushes my hair behind my ear.

I undo his belt and pull his pants down.

Being face to face with the bulge in his underwear now sends new wave of excitement through me. Something about tequila makes me so damn horny. Something about Vinnie makes me so damn horny. Combined, I’m nothing short of thrilled over what’s about to happen.

He steps out of his pants and lifts his shirt over his head, exposing his body. I run my hand down his chest and over his spider tattoo, biting my lip.

I kiss my way down to his V line and I can feel the rise and fall of his chest pick up in pace.

He reaches forward and slides his hand under my shorts, pulling them back. I lay on my back and take them off along with my underwear, and then slide my shirt off. It’s just now occurring to me that I left my bra in the bathroom. Oops.

He walks over and sits on his bed so that his back is up against the wall. I crawl over and straddle him.

His hand comes up to my face pulling me in for a kiss. I run my tongue across his bottom lip, begging for entrance before finally getting to taste his mouth.

His hand travels down to my waist, pulling me closer as I starting grinding my bare core against his hardness in his underwear. The pressure of his cock combined with the fabric feels so fucking good against my clit.

I pull back and slowly make my way back down his stomach, stopping occasionally to suck and gently bite. I reach for his underwear and pull them down, laying eyes on his bare cock for the first time. It’s perfect. Perfect size, perfect veins.

Fuck, he’s incredible.

“Sorry if this is weird but you literally have the prettiest cock I’ve ever seen,” I say. I immediately regret it.

Who the fuck compliments a man on their penis aesthetic like that?

Luckily, a wide grin spreads across his face as he looks down at me. “I’m glad you like it,” he says, giving me a little smirk.

He’s completely unfazed by my weirdness. If anything, he’s flattered. I forgot this guy is kind of a weirdo himself. In the best way, of course. He won’t be scared away easily.

I laugh a little, looking at him. A warmth spreads across my chest, and affection for him fills every atom of me. God, I missed him.

I lean back up and kiss him softly before positioning myself to the side of him, leaning over his cock letting spit fall from my mouth.

I start rubbing my thumb around his tip, then wrap my hand around it moving in a gentle circular motion. I bring my other hand up, massaging closer to the base at the same time then take him fully into my mouth, letting him hit the back of my throat and holding him there until I gag. Using the extra spit, I start massaging him a little quicker.

Deep moans come out of him, turning me on even more, as if that’s possible. I already love his voice so his moans are fucking heaven to listen to.

I lower my mouth back on to him and start sucking gently, then a little harder. He reaches forward and smacks my ass again I let out a high moan while my mouth is wrapped around his cock.

He thrusts upward to meet my mouth pumping on him and moves his hand back to my pussy, rubbing my clit, and sliding his middle finger into me, pumping in and out.

After a few minutes I pull back to give my mouth a break and he smiles at me, sitting up. He leans in and kisses me, grabbing one of my nipples, squeezing it.

His hand comes up and gently grabs my throat, using this movement to push me on my back.

I spread my legs, and he comes between them, leaning down to kiss me. With our chests and stomachs pressed against each other, I can feel his hard cock rubbing against my pussy making me even more excited.

He kisses his way down to my neck, and sucks gently near my collarbone sending waves of pleasure through my body.

He sucks on one of my nipples and the visual of seeing him with my titty in his mouth is almost too much to handle.

I make a pouty face let out a small whine, grinding my hips up so his hard on presses even more against my wet core. I wrap my hands in his hair, tugging lightly.

“Be patient, pretty girl. You’re about to get what you want.”

I nod, still pouting.

He takes one arm to prop himself up and uses the other to line himself with my entrance without pushing in right away, teasing me a little bit.

“Please,” I whine out, pushing my hips toward him. The anticipation is killing me.

He leans in and bites my lip, finally starting to push his way into me. The feeling of him entering sends a huge wave of pleasure from my core up through my chest, making me throw my head back into the pillow and moan.

He bottoms out and lets out a small moan.

He buries his face into my neck. The tickling sensation of his mouth and breath adding to the intense pleasure as he pumps himself in and out of me.

“You fill me up so good, Vinnie,” I moan. He picks up his pace, pulling out almost completely before bottoming out over and over again. I wrap my legs around him, meeting each of his thrusts, scratching my nails down his back.

His moans are deep and almost breathless. He pulls out of me, and I groan at the loss of contact.

He flips me over, my stomach and legs flat against the bed still, keeping my legs together as he straddles me from the back. He runs his cock up and down my slit and then slams himself inside of me.

“Oh fuck, yes,” I say closing my eyes and laying my head against the mattress.

He grabs my hair and pulls my head back while he starts pounding his cock into me over and over again.

I don’t even care to try and be quiet at this point.

“Fuck Vinnie, yes baby!” I swear I could cry from the pleasure.

“Say my name again,” he smacks my leg and pulls my hair back a little harder.

“Vinnie!” I moan out again.

“Fuck, y/n,” he says groans.

It’s not long before I feel another orgasm coming on. My pussy tightens around him, my whole body tenses up. That euphoric high hits me like a train knocking the wind out of me, and I can feel myself get wetter as he keeps fucking himself into me.

He lets out a loud moan and pushes as deep into me as he can, filling me up. He stays there for a moment, kissing my back before slowly pulling out of me.

We lay there breathless, looking at the ceiling.

After a few minutes, he turns toward me.

He looks so upset, it makes my heart sink.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“I’m just sorry,” he says, putting his hand over his eyes. “I’m sorry for the way I’ve acted, I’m sorry for putting us in that situation, I’m sorry for abandoning you after it. I’m sorry for everything. I - I swear I don’t even want to live anymore.”

My stomach turns sour at his last sentence. “Vinnie, you have to go get some help. Please. Jett did it, I did it. It fucking helps. I’m begging you,” I say trying to hold back tears. “I can’t imagine losing you and I hate seeing you suffer like this.”

He nods his head in agreement. “I don’t even know where to begin.”

“Just pick something. Something small. Work on one small thing that’s upsetting you and fix it to the best of your ability then move on to the next. One thing at a time,” I roll over to him and kiss his cheek, then lay my head on his chest. His arms wrap around me tight. “I love you, Vinnie. I do. As a friend and as a lover,” I say looking up at him.

He looks down at me, his face relaxing at my words. “I love you, too. As a lover and a friend.”

“I’m going to be here with you every step of the way. You won’t have to do this alone,” I grab his hand and lace our fingers together.

We climb under the covers and lay there for a while before we hear Liza’s voice down the hall, calling out for me again.

“She’s not gonna give up searching for you,” he says, laughing.

“You’d think she’d catch the hint by now,” I say, giggling. “I should probably tell her I’m okay, she’s just worried about me.”

I get up and throw my clothes back on.

“Hurry up and come back to me. I missed you.”

I look back at him and smile. “I missed you too,” I say, leaning over to kiss him. “I’ll only be a minute.”

[eddiemunsonsmiddlefingers]

OH DAMN OK heres a question thats gonna be very relevant very uhhh soon, but what are your headcanons for Eddies tattoos?

OKAY. So. As far as we're aware he has four (five, see end of post), right? Wyvern, bats, skull, and puppet. Also important, tattoos were illegal in Indiana. Not impossible to get, but it was similar to like...buying weed or drinking underage (and also, Eddie was underage on top of it being illegal). So, my headcanons are such:

He got the bats in '82, right after Ozzy did his thing, from some guy in a park in Indianapolis. He wanted to get a reaction out of his dad, but his dad didn't even notice. Wayne sure did, though; he's the one who showed him how to keep it clean so it wouldn't get infected. (In my head, Wayne has tattoos, you just don't see them.)

He got the skull tattoo in exchange for weed in his early dealing days. It's supposed to be Eddie, the Iron Maiden mascot, but he didn't have a reference with him so the artist was flying blind. Also, they were both high as shit. Eddie thinks it's hilarious and wouldn't trade it for the world even if it is an objectively terrible likeness.

He got the wyvern tattoo off an artist's wall somewhere outside Indiana. His dad abandoned him to do a job, but then he...never came back...so Eddie raided the glove box for cash, got some food, then decided to get the ink because he was bored and it was there. The thing is, his dad didn't come back because he got arrested. Eddie went to live with Wayne right after that. He tries not to think about it too much.

He got the puppet master tattoo in '84 (so before Metallica ever even played Master of Puppets), as an homage to his love of D&D. "But Sunny, wouldn't the wyvern be—" no. This is specifically about his role as dungeon master. DMing is the only place and time in his life he ever felt powerful or in control of his own life, and he wanted the reminder on his skin so that feeling could never be taken away from him. He saved every penny he could to get it, and brought a sketch with him to make sure the artist got it right. When Metallica released Master of Puppets, Eddie practically had a joygasm right there on the spot because holy shit it's like they read his mind....and then dedicated his life to learning to play it because how could he fucking not.

Edit: OH. He has five. I forgot about the spider.

He got that one from Jeff's cousin who wanted to practice. Eddie asked for something creepy crawly but otherwise had few preferences, so the cousin gave him a spider. Eddie thinks it's marvelous and ties in well with his puppet mastering ways. Control the monsters, weave the web of a story—amirite, or amirite?

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

Who Is He Really?

fic number 2 for @thewitcherbog angst bingo! went back to my ‘raised by true crime and cop procedural shows’ roots for this one. the prompt was hostage situation so i kinda had to ya know?

pairing: Geraskier

CW: gun mention, gun violence mention, hostages taken, jaskier feels betrayed and violated, allusions to dissociation- possibly dissociative identity disorder bc i was a spencer simp in my criminal minds days okay? of course imma use that banger two episode plot for some pain definitely unrealistic and hollywood-ified representation of the disorder, vomiting, big ole sense of loss, idk i think that covers it? unbetaed? 

__________________

Jaskier had dropped his coffee when he got the call. He was absolutely frantic, sprinting out of the coffee shop and starting his car with shaking hands. He’d just seen a news alert that the killer the police had been chasing for months was supposedly cornered in the warehouse district. And the detective on the phone said they needed him at the warehouse district. For Geralt. They needed him to help his fiance. 

He called his mom as he went thirty over the speed limit across town. He’d called his mother who had hated Geralt. But he needed someone. Anyone. 

Arriving at a village of tactical vans and police cars and even a medical tent was nothing short of traumatizing. Hell, he almost forgot to put his car in park and definitely didn’t bother taking the keys out of the ignition. 

A terrifying woman with a severe expression introduced herself as Agent DeVries and sat him down on a gurney in the medical tent. He thought it might have just been the only place to sit, or Geralt would be brought in there soon, better to be waiting for him, right?

“Jaskier, what do you know of Geralt’s childhood?” 

“It was incredibly traumatic. What does this have to do with him being hurt?” Jaskier’s whole body was practically vibrating. He needed to see Geralt. He needed someone to tell him what was happening. He needed this woman to stop looking at him like he was a briefcase bomb. 

“Did he tell you what his father was like?” The woman hadn’t blinked the whole time she’d been talking to him, her lips barely moving under so much tension. 

“Where is he? Who cares what that fucker was like?! Is he okay?”

A flash of sympathy shone in the agent’s eyes before she took a deep breath and seemed to steel her nerves, “As far as we can tell, he is unharmed. But he isn’t here as a hostage, Jaskier. He’s holding hostages.”

“Oh fuck off, no he’s not. That man can barely tell his god-daughter ‘no’, let alone kill a spider. You’ve got the wrong man. He’s been set up. I don’t care, he isn’t capable of taking hostages.”

“He is, Jaskier. He took two hostages and shot at officers as he retreated into the building.”

Jaskier looked around the tent for cameras, a confused and disbelieving frown on his face, “Bullshit.”

Agent DeVries rolled her eyes, “We don’t have time for this. Would you believe me if you saw the video?”

“You don’t have a video of him doing anything like that because he couldn’t.” Jaskier spat. He was fully prepared to point out the man was too old to be Geralt, something that often happened with his white hair. Maybe even point out the man had none of Geralt’s tattoos, or scars if the quality was good enough. 

When she showed him the video he barely found a trash can to vomit into in time. 

The man was around Geralt’s age, had all his tattoos, all his scars.

The agent wasn’t mistaken. 

He clung to the dirty metal trash can like a lifeline as he heaved and heaved, well past anything actually coming up. 

“Here, drink some water,” Agent Devries’ voice was surprisingly soft as she handed him a fragile paper cup, “We were hoping you could convince him to let them go. He loves you more than anything. Even asked for you.”

That made Jaskier’s body try to heave again, but he grimaced and kept himself together. That certainly made it worse. He thought if Geralt had just used him as a cover the whole time he wouldn’t feel so violated, so wholly unhinged and desperate to run. But he was there, and so were people Geralt might hurt, and this agent was looking at him as if he was the last fucking jedi.

His voice was barely above a whisper when he finally caught enough breath to speak, “I don’t think I can.”

“He has a mother and her young son in that building. From what we gather, they are tied and gagged. If you agree to this you have to give it your all. Their lives depend on it. Failing could get them killed.”

Jaskier flashed back to earlier that morning, just six or seven hours ago, sitting on the kitchen counter with Geralt standing between his knees. His fiance had wrapped his arms around his waist and snuggled into his neck, muttering something cute and nonsensical as they waited for their coffee to brew. It made no sense.

“Okay,” Jaskier rasped, clearing his throat and knocking back the last of his water, “Okay. What do you need me to do?” 

The next hour was a blur, all quick coaching with the background cacophony of guns being loaded and endless radio chatter. 

When they finally sat him in front of a phone and pressed ‘call’, Jaskier’s whole body went numb. He prayed to any god that would listen that whoever picked up the phone wasn’t Geralt. That it was just someone who looked like him and his actual fiance would be pacing their apartment worried sick about where he had gone after work. 

The call connected and for a second all Jaskier could hear was heavy breathing before that familiar gravely voice laced with fear and desperation came over the speaker, “Jaskier?”

A dam broke as a sob ripped through Jaskier’s chest, “Geralt, are you okay?” 

He wanted to ask ‘how could you?’, wanted to scream and shout until he couldn’t feel his throat and coughed up blood. 

He wasn’t prepared for Geralt’s reply, barely squeaked out through tears, “No.”

“Wh-what happened, love?” Jaskier held his head in his hands, squeezing his eyes shut as his whole body tensed for the blow. 

“I don’t know!” Geralt’s voice was watery and panicked, “I don’t remember. You remember last summer whe-when I forgot my birthday? And when I didn’t recognize Ciri or re-member it later?” he hiccoughed through tears as his voice only got more and more frantic. 

“Yes…” 

Agent DeVries looked like she’d put some invisible puzzle together and signaled him to ask more.

“Do you know where you are?” Jaskier asked, lifting his head and trying to quell the turning of his stomach. 

“No! Julek I don’t know what’s happening and the police are saying I did something but I- I don’t know what and I don’t know what to do,” Geralt was wholeheartedly sobbing by then. Jaskier tried not to picture him crying and clutching the phone in his panic. Agent DeVries hovered a finger over the mute button and waved to him as if to tell him to stall. 

“H-hold on, love. Breathe. Let me think.”

Agent DeVries held the button down and stared him down with an intensity he would never forget, “Does he dissociate?”

“What? No? He has a memory problem. The neurologist cant figure it out but he just-”

“Forgets who he is, where he is, and who he’s with, then has a blank space in his memory when you ask about it later?” the agent finished for him, speaking so quickly he barely caught it. When all he did was nod, she launched into instructions over Geralt calling for Jaskier, “Tell him it isn’t his fault. He was tricked and we’re going to help him but he has to come out of the building without his weapons and let us check him over.”

As soon as her finger left the mute button Jaskier jumped to soothe Geralt, on pure instinct, “Shh, I’m sorry darling. I think I figured it out, okay? Can you do exactly what I tell you? Please, Geralt? C-can you trust me?” he felt sick again asking it, trying and failing to keep his voice from breaking into a sob. 

“I trust you with my life,” Geralt whispered, a sharp snotty sniff making the speaker crackle right after his words. 

Not five minutes later, Geralt was handcuffed in the back of a police cruiser frantically looking around for Jaskier like a trapped puppy.

Jaskier was shoving his way through a crowd of people after Agent DeVries, demanding answers and doing his best not to hyperventilate, “If it’s not his fault why is he cuffed and locked away! What aren’t you telling me?!”

The agent turned to him with a look so full of fake pity he almost slapped it off her face in his rage, “He absolutely killed those people. We have his DNA from his Juvee stent. He might be a basket case and get a light sentence, maybe even a one-way ticket to a mental institution, but those murders are one hundred percent his fault.”

The finality with which she spat the words at him and the complete shift from earlier stunned Jaskier. He just stared after her as she strode away. 

A car door slamming pulled him out of his trance and he whipped his head toward the sound to see Geralt pleading to him with his eyes as the car engine started. Every bone in his body wanted to hold him, run his fingers through his hair and promise him they’d figure this out together.

But he couldn’t move. He just watched as the police car carried the love of his life out of view.

[petersnya]

SOMETIMES

PETER PARKER X FEM!READER

---NOT MY PHOTO/GIF---

PART ONE

Prompt/Summary: “...some people fall in love with the wrong people sometimes…” /// Peter Parker meets the love of his life. But is he the love of hers? Having a bad past always affects the future.

Warnings: ANGST, FLUFF, SMUT(light smut towards the end xxx tehe) ECT. 

Word count: 3026

[A/N]Wattupp! So I have been busy with volleyball lately but I finally have the time to write! I got this idea while I was in class and it seemed like it would be perfect lol. I love Marvel so much like I grew up reading the comics so I’m excited to write this ( I'm in love with Peter Parker/Tom Holland too ). I'm thinking this should be a series??? Idk. Let me know what you think! ENJOY AND SHARE WITH YOUR FRIENDS!! Explicit content ahead…(this was also inspired by a song I love called moral of the story. tehe I love Niall Horan bruh) 

-J.T.S xxx

“Sup Parker, ” a tall, curly-haired girl rushed through the front door of Peter Parker's apartment. “Aunt May here?” the girl questioned the brown-eyed boy who was frantically following the girl with his eyes from his seated position on the couch. 

“No, uh, she's not. She's at work actually- wait what are you doing here MJ?” Peter questioned the girl, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. He stood from the couch, approaching the kitchen counter that MJ was standing behind, putting whatever she had run into the house with in the kitchen drawer. 

“Uh, just… Hangin’ out, ” MJ explained, shrugging her shoulder as she hopped onto the counter facing Peter, swinging her legs with an innocent look on her face. 

“Yeah sure, I'm not gonna believe tha -” 

“MJ! The hell is wrong with you! Give them back you oversized giraffe!” a loud banging on the door caught MJ and Peter’s attention making them turn their heads towards it. MJ, not looking shocked at all, but Peter having a tariffed look on his face. 

“We’re the same height dumbass!” MJ shouted back to the girl on the other side of the door with a smirk on her face. Peter was confused by the situation. Turning his head back at MJ, who was silently snickering, he questioned, “Who the hell is that?”, the tan girl, who was now standing next to him, made her way to open the door. 

“MJ gets the fuck out here and give me my-” the mystery girl on the other side of the door was cut off by the door opening in her face. She stood there in shock, looking past MJ at the curly-haired boy standing next to her. Peter looked away from MJ then at the girl who was standing in the doorway. He couldn’t help but stare at her, taking in the beautiful sight in front of him. Peter was taken aback when suddenly, her lips curled into a wide smile. She pointed her finger at MJ, the at Peter, and back again. Peter had no idea what was going on until MJ’s smirk that she had faded off of her face.

“No. No, no, no, ” she said grabbing the girl's hand and pushing it down to her side. 

“And who is this MJ?” she said slyly. 

“This is…” MJ paused, glancing back at Peter then back to the girl at the door. “Penis Parker.” she then said with a slight chuckle. 

“Hey! Wha- no! That’s not my name! MJ I swear to-“ 

“Your mom named you penis?” She said, raising an eyebrow in confusion. MJ laughed walking out of the door and next to the girl. “And this is my cousin, Y/N.” 

“Sup man,” Y/N said to Peter with a big goofy grin on her face. 

“Alright we’ll be leaving now,” MJ said grabbing her cousin’s hand, dragging her away from the door. 

“Penis is kinda hot cuz. How have you not fu-“ 

“We’re leaving!” MJ shouted over Y/N, dragging her out of the way to where Peter couldn’t see them anymore, but just in Peter’s favor, he heard everything.

\\\

The next day, Peter was walking out of school with MJ and his best friend, Ned. 

“So MJ, I heard you have a cousin. Y/N…” Ned said, leaning forward, looking across Peter to see MJ who was walking on the other side of him. Peter hit Ned on the shoulder with his, silently telling him to stop talking about it. MJ chuckle. 

“Well uh, I gotta go. See you guys later! Good luck Pete.” Ned said with a wink as he walked towards the bus.

“Wait, Ned! We ride the bus- together… whatever.”

MJ and Peter walked down the stairs talking about all their classes, the teachers they hated, and other things. As they made their way to the sidewalk they heard someone yelling at them, causing both of them to turn their heads towards the loud voice. 

“Ah. I forgot, Y/N’s picking me up today.” 

“Y/N? Oh…” Peter said, trying to hide the blush on his face. Every time he thought about her, he couldn’t help but re-play the words she said yesterday: ...he’s kinda hot… Peters has never had that sort of attention given to him by a girl especially one that looked like Y/N. To him, she was an angel. But Peter, being the typical person he was, wouldn’t even think about approaching her- being afraid of rejection. 

“How old is she?” Peter asked curiously, the thought lingering in his mind. 

“Our age. She’s home-schooled.” the tall her said, stuffing her hands in the side pockets of her jacket. Peter looked at her curiously, if she’s home-schooled then why is she with MJ all the time now? 

“Her uh, her dad just recently passed, due to health difficulties, so she and her mom moved down here to get a new start. While her mom is trying to get their new house and a stable job down in Queens she will be staying with me for about… a year I think. I, of course, let her stay with me. She’s my favorite cousin and I don’t want her to be alone during this ruff time.” she explained, practically reading Peter’s expression. He nodded in response, his eyes glued to his feet.

“MJ! MJ come on! Harry Potter re-run of the first two movies start in T-minus 10 minutes and I have to go pick up my new sweatshirt!” Y/N yelled from her car while honking the horn. The upper half of her body sticking out of the driver’s window while her forearms supported her on the roof of her car.

“Annnddd, she kinda a nerd, but she considers herself just ‘well educated’.” Peter chuckled as he looked at Y/N. Once they got to the car, MJ threw her backpack in the passenger window. Y/N slide back into her window, shoving the bag in the back. MJ then opened the car door and hopped in, clicking her seat belt. She waved bye to Peter.

“Bye Peter Parker.”

“Later MJ.”

“Oooh, so his name isn’t penis… I knew it! Peter, it’s cute. Sup Parker!” 

Peter started to blush but it was hard to see from his face already red from the heat of the sun. He smiled and waved to her, noticing how her Y/E/C eyes glistened in the sun.

“H-hey, Y/N.” He said toying with the strap of his bag, his curls in his face. 

“Heyyy! You should come watch the Harry Potter movies three and four with me and MJ Friday! You can even bring that one guy you guys are always talking to.” She said leaning on the steering wheel, looking at Peter through her long, mascara coated eyelashes.

“Sure I’d love to come… wait- do you have your driver's license?” the question lingered in Peter’s mind.

“Nope!” Y/N yelled as she sped away, the tires of the car screeching on the road. Peter could still hear their loud laughter of the two cousins as they drove away.

That night while Peter was patrolling as Spider-Man, he stopped and landed on the building next to MJ’s place. There was a window that was the only lit room. He thought it was MJ so he was going to go up and scare her, but once he got closer, he could see that it was Y/N. His heartbeat quickened as he watched her walk over to her bed, putting her hair in a ponytail. She was wearing an oversized black T-shirt. As she was putting her hair up, she stretched her arms causing her shirt to reveal her very small underwear. Peter could feel his suit beginning to get uncomfortable at the view in front of him.

Quickly, Peter swung away from the building making his way home before Y/N or anyone could see him.

He crawled back into his window making sure to stay quiet so that Aunt May wouldn’t hear. Once he had his suit off, he showed and got into bed. Peter couldn’t sleep that night. He couldn’t help but think about Y/N. She was tattooed in his brain and, of course, tattoos don’t go away. 

///

The days went by slow, well, they went slow to Peter. He was overly excited to go to MJ’s place and watch a movie with Y/N. That was the only person on his mind, her. But those slow days soon went by and it was Friday afternoon. Peter was so anxious he practically ran home to put his school stuff away and then ran to MJ’s. 

He approached the door to her place and knocked on the door with his fist. Peter whipped his sweaty palms on his flannel, waiting for the door to open. 

“What up Pete! MJ said you would be here around this time. Come on in man.” Y/N said as she flung open the door with a soft smile on her face. Peter couldn’t get enough of her energetic personality. He followed Y/N, closing the door behind him. The brown-eyed boy couldn’t help but admire her as she walked in front of him. Her outfit consists of high-waisted but loose jeans, a plain black tube top with a very large flannel that was left unbuttoned. 

“Uh, Michelle and your other friend… Ned! That’s his name, I can never remember,” she chuckled nervously, “they uh- went to the store to go get snacks and food so they should be back in a little while. I’m gonna go get some blankets and stuff from my room for the movies, there pretty long so I wanna be comfortable. Wanna help?” Y/N said as she started to walk towards her room, looking over her shoulder to see if Peter was following.

“Oh, yeah, sure I’ll help you,” he said, slowly trailing behind her. As they went into her room she started to grab blankets and pillows, tossing them by the door. Peter couldn’t help but admire her well-decorated room, it fits her personality so well, he thought to himself. He walked over to her tall nightstand and saw a pair of glasses sitting on them. For some reason, they intrigued him. 

“Do you mind?” he asked. “Nah, not at all,” Y/N replied not looking up from the pile of blankets in the corner, waving her hand in a ‘go ahead’ motion. Peter shrugged and turned his attention back to the glasses. They were small and black, they didn’t look like they would fit her face. He picked them up, examining them curiously. Y/N looked over at Peter, immediately dropping everything in her hands and rushing over to him. She snatched the glasses out of his hand and put them in her drawer. Peter was taken aback by this sudden action, raising his hands in a surrendering motion. 

“Don’t touch those,” Y/N said harshly. She looked at Peter’s face that was plastered with an apologetic look. “I- I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. My… my dad gave me those,” she explained. Peter mumbled an ‘it’s ok’ under his breath. 

She walked over to the edge of her bed, scooting over to give Peter room to sit down. He took the hint and went to sit next to her. Y/N sat there, her leg bouncing as she tried to take steady breathes to calm herself down, fiddling with the many rings on her fingers. 

“Hey, you ok Y/N?” Peter asked, placing a hand gently on her shoulder. She looked up at him with glossed-over eyes. She let out a shaky breath and nodded. Licking her lips, she began to explain. 

“Well uh, m-my dad, he uh… he passed away about two weeks ago. When I was younger we used to always read together and I would have trouble saying some of the words. My mom thought it was just cause I couldn’t read properly yet but my dad always said ‘my little girl is the smarts little girl I know… she’s just as blind as a bat, like her father,’ Y/N paused, sniffing while wiping the tear that rolled down her cheek before continuing, “He bought me those glasses after the eye doctor told me my vision was terrible. The day before he passed away, he took the glasses off that he had and handed them to me. I tried to stop him and tell him that I had some, but all he did was look at my mom and then back at me and said, ‘she’s just as blind as a bat, like her father.’” the last part came out in a whisper. 

Reaching over to her bedside table, Y/N grabbed a pair of circular glasses that looked like they were from the Harry Potter movie. “My dad loved Harry Potter, I never wear them though cause I-I’m just...scared. I don’t know why though. It’s just silly.” she said with a slight smile. “MJ took my contacts from me just a few days ago to get me to wear them and I still haven’t gotten them back.” so that’s why she came over that day, Peter wondered. 

Peter was about to say something but MJ and Ned came into the apartment, yelling that they were back with the snacks and food. 

“T-minus 10 minutes Y/N,” MJ yelled from the kitchen.

“Yeah, I’ll be out in a second,” Y/N shouted back to her, “you should go ahead.”

Peter got up to leave the room, but before he did he turned to say something,  “I think that your dad would want you to wear them, Y/N. Trust me,” he said with a soft smile that caused Y/N to smile back at him.

///

“Dude, where’s Y/N? She’s never late for an H.P movie,” MJ questioned. Peter and Ned looked at each other shrugging before looking back at her. Only two minutes later, Y/N came walking out of her room, they all turned their heads to look. 

“Ok, I’m ready for the movie,” she said with a big goofy smile on her face. Peter and MJ looked at her in shock. Ned had no idea what was going on and just sat and ate popcorn. Y/N had on some shorts and a Slytherin sweatshirt, but that wasn’t the shocking part. She was wearing her dad’s glasses. 

“What? Do you guys not like my sweatshirt?” 

“I think it’s great,” Ned said giving her a thumbs up. 

“Thanks, Ned, glad to see someone appreciates it,” Y/N said sarcastically. MJ and Peter looked at each other. Peter was about to say something but MJ put a finger up signaling for him not to. Y/N sat between MJ and Peter on the couch, grabbing a bag of chips while adjusting the glasses on her face. She looked over at Peter mouthing the word ‘thank you’  causing Peter to blush but hid it quickly.

About thirty minutes into the movie, Y/N got comfortable and snuggled her head into MJ’s shoulder while MJ laid her head onto of Y/N’s. Y/N had her exposed long, smooth legs draped over Peter’s thighs. This sent Peters mind wondering: 

As she slowly straddled my lap, I placed my hands on her thighs, keeping her steady. My large hands squeezed at her exposed skin. I ran them to her ass, repeating the motion causing her to jerk, rubbing her core against jeans, making her moan quietly in my ear. Her arms hugged around my neck. She moved her head to where her lips were perfectly leveld with mine. She connected her lips with mine in a soft kiss, but I wanted more. I needed more. I ran my tongue over her bottom lips, squeezing her ass in my hand once again. Her lips were parted slightly, giving me access to slip my tongue into her mouth. She surprised me with her next move. She wrapped her lips around my tongue then released it with a slight smacking noise. This made me harder than I was before- if that was even possible. We sat there for a second, staring into each other’s eyes, noticing how they were filled with lust. Before I could even think my actions through, I removed my hand from her ass, grabbing her jaw and pulling her facing into mine, catching her lips and lustful but passionate kiss. My tongue almost immediately won the dominance against hers. I flipped us so that I was on top and started to trail kisses down her exposed stomach. Her thighs wrapped around my head as her back arched off of the bed. I put my hands on her lower back. I started to tease her soaked-

“I don’t see how you like Draco Malfoy?” Ned’s voice snapped Peter out of his daydream, turning his head over to Ned who was munching on a handful of popcorn.  

“What!” MJ and Y/N screamed. Ned and Peter both turned their heads to them, wondering why they seemed so upset. “What do you mean why do we like Draco Malfoy,” MJ said.

“What type of question is that?” Y/N said, finishing her sentence. This caused MJ and Y/N to go into a whole ordeal on why Draco is their favorite character. All Peter could do was watch the way her pink lips moved as she explained. 

This helped Peter calm down from his daydream and stoping his hard-on to be seen. Thank God…

///

That night, Peter laid awake in his bed, thinking about how Y/N looked in his fantasy. He wished that it was really like so so badly. He couldn’t help to feel this attraction towards her, from the first time he saw her. It wasn’t just her good looks, even though to Peter she was stunning, it was her style, her personality, the way her eyes squinted and her cheekbones rose when she laughed. The way she would ramble about anything and everything. His last thought before he drifted into sleep rang in his brain,

Does she feel the same? 

[A/N] Hey bestie :))) hope you liked this chapter! Thank you for the support and make sure to send me ideas for imagines you guys want! IM GONNA TRY TO UPLOAD EVERY DAY OR EVERY OTHER DAY AT 5:30/6:30 PM. 

 DISCLAIMER!!! THE NEXT CHAPTER IS FULL OF SMUT.. are you ready?

-J.T.S xxx

[shurisneakers]

shut in [1]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Gender Neutral Reader)

Warnings: cursing, violence, guns, death

Word count: 3.2k

A/N: greetings. i have returned with a series that i have actually finished writing beforehand so i just have to post the chapters and yes this means i will not let this go incomplete  shoutout to my bitch @midnightsunfae​ for putting up w me mwah lov u if i’ve completely butchered sam’s character, tell me so i can delete my entire account pls and thanks 

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Shut In Masterlist || Main Masterlist

“Alexander Pierce.” The file fell on the table with a resounding thud.

“What about him?”

“I want him dead.”

The house stood tall; obnoxious, almost, with loud embellishments of gold. It screamed wealth spent lavishly and without any reasonable thought.

Also it was ugly.

You scaled the gate, landing on the gravel silently. There were no security measures that you could see beyond the automated entry and CCTV whose light wasn’t blinking. Must have been a power outage. An unlikely coincidence, but it just made your job easier.

You made a move towards the side of the house, staying close to the trees that lined the driveway, out of the direct line of sight of the house’s front door. 

His car was parked outside; a swanky looking race car kept outside just for show. He was definitely at home.

A window at the side of the mansion was left slightly ajar. A quick sweep up the side of the house proved that the rest of them were shut.

Your eyebrow quirked up in suspicion, quickly taking a look around to see if you were being watched. For a few seconds the world didn’t seem to move, eerily silent other than the rustling of leaves.

Pierce was clearly the flagbearer of home security.

You stuffed your gun into the waistband of your pants, freeing both your hands to tug yourself into the room.

Your gun found its way into your hand once more as you scanned the room. He wasn’t on the bed. You deemed the silence as an indicator to safely to move ahead. 

So far it seemed easy.

Too easy?

Ransone’s body was spread across his chair, leisurely stroking at his stubble. His other hand thrummed rhythmically at the timber in front of him. His eyes were glazed over; physically present but mind wandering elsewhere.

You waited for him to explain further, knowing better than to interrupt his train of thought.

He had the strangest penchant for drama and theatre. From what you could gather of the dim light in the room and his stance, he had just watched The Godfather. Again.

“Do you know how long it took me to build this business?” His words sounded like a musing, akin to a private thought he was letting you in on. “This empire, Y/N?”

“Twenty three years.” Your arms were crossed behind you, a sign of discipline he demanded from all members of the organisation. 

“And I haven’t gotten there by being the neighbourhood church boy.” He gestured to one of the two men beside him, a rifle strung across their back at the ready. One of them-- Rumlow--  stepped forward, lighting a cigar and handing it to him.

He took a long drag, taking his time to exhale, flicking at the cigar to get rid of the loose ash. If he just got to the point, you could have left about twenty minutes ago.

“I’ve done terrible things,” he admitted, “but you know? I won’t be blamed for them. A bit of collateral damage was inevitable.”

His chair swayed from side to side as his feet thumped at the table. It annoyed you endlessly. You never told him.

“And you know how I feel about collateral damage, right?”

“Show no mercy.”

The house was silent, except for the faint sound of the television some distance away. You wouldn’t have been able to see if not for the moonlight that illuminated the space through the large windows.

Your gun pressed tightly to your side, you made your way down the open hallway. As you passed by the kitchen, the ticking of the timer on the oven made you pause. The oven itself wasn’t on but the clock was still ticking.

A bowl was kept on the marble island separating the rest of the hall from the kitchen. A pair of car keys lay mangled among a couple of dollar bills and loose change like he threw it in carelessly. 

Continuing further down the hall, you came to the realisation that it culminated in a room that faced his backyard. Only a single glass sheet acted as a barrier between him and the outdoors.

You could hear the show getting louder, hidden from your line of sight by the couch in front of it.

Pierce’s head faced away from you and towards the only light source in the room. He hadn’t heard you come in.

From what you could see, he was asleep. Head slumped slightly, arm slinked over the backrest and no other movement.

It wasn’t actually a TV, just an iPad on its loudest setting with Netflix playing what looked like Horrible Bosses. A man with exquisite taste, obviously.

You took one step at a time, slowly making your way towards the couch until you were just a step or two behind him. You raised your arm, pressing your gun to the back of his head.

“Show no mercy,” he repeated, the corner of his mouth turning upward as he looked at you.

You wanted to shift under his stare. Your muscles were beginning to feel a dull burn, a sign that you had been standing still for too long. 

“So tell me, after all my effort-” he stuck his bottom lip out mockingly- “should I let my fucking company get destroyed by one person?”

His hand harshly slammed down on the table as he lurched forward in his chair, eyes seething.

You nearly jumped at his sudden change in demeanour, knuckles tightening in anticipation.

“Tell me, boys, how far do I tolerate liars?” His stare didn’t waver, looking straight into your eyes.

“You don’t.” Their voices were eerily synchronised. You wondered if they ever rehearsed together. Probably did.

“Lovely.” Ransone smiled, leaning back in his chair. “I don’t.”

“Liars?” Your voice had risen by an octave or two, your surprise catching you off guard.

“Someone has been sneaking information to Serpentine for nearly two years.” A chill ran down your spine, the muscles in your jaw tightening. “They’ve been growing exponentially and someone’s been helpin’ them do it.”

Only someone didn’t fear death would turn their back on him. Someone who had nothing to lose.

“We have reason to believe it’s Pierce.”

A moment passed where you expected him to wake up, turn around and look at you so that you could deliver Ransone’s message to him, a quippy one liner about betrayal or something.

But he didn’t.

Instead, his head shifted under the pressure of your gun, falling over as if it was weightless.

Your face pulled into a frown as you made your way to the front of the couch swiftly, gun still held tightly in front of you.

Your shadow dimmed the light that fell on him from the iPad, but it was impossible to deny.

A single gunshot to the front of his head. Eyes wide open, red from the lack of moisture. The blood around him painted a gory scene that was impossible to notice from behind.

“What the-” you murmured, lowering your arm.

“I can tolerate one mistake. Everyone deserves that.” Ransone shrugged offhandedly. “But this isn’t the first one he’s made.”

“So you want him gone.”

“That would be lovely, yes.” He relaxed into his chair once again, taking another hit from his cigar.

“Why do you want me to do it?” you asked, eyebrows knitted together. Generally he would send you for something more high-profile. Raids, infiltrations. These kinds of hits were what you left behind years ago.

“A spy has security from the ones they’re working for. It’s possibly more dangerous.” His feet found its way onto the table, one over the other as he stretched back. “And I’m not sure my other agent can make it.”

“Thanks,” you spoke monotonously. “Glad to know I’m your first choice.”

“Don’t take it personally.” He dismissed it with a wave of his hand. “He probably won’t show.” 

His sleeve fell slightly to reveal a sliver of his tattoo. A spider, the symbol of his authority.

Each of his employees had a web inked on their skin that grew with each passing year of their service. It was how you identified each other in passing.

“You have an opening on Friday. His house help leaves at 8 sharp and he’s alone.”

You nodded, picking up the file in front of him, avoiding his fingers that had returned to thrumming on the tabletop. You acknowledged the two men beside him before making your way toward the door.

This house was all the way across the country. No wonder he gave you a bit more time as compared to usual to prepare.

“It’ll be done.”

The sound of a gun clicking away from you made the hair on your neck stand up.

You sprung up, arms extended in front of you instinctively towards the sound.

Even in the dim light of the room, you could see a man standing a few feet away from you. His hand held a glock, aimed towards you.

Neither of you said a word. Time stood still for all you cared. The only indication that it didn’t was that Horrible Bosses was still playing.

“Who the fuck are you?” you finally asked, voice surprisingly calm for the adrenaline that was spiking through your body.

“Who are you?” he questioned in retaliation, tone curt.

“I asked first.” You wondered if he could see you roll your eyes.

He didn’t reply, obviously.

A beat passed and you almost forgot the dead body that lay near your knees. Almost. It didn’t help that his fingers were nearly touching your leg like some kind of pervert; not that you could blame him for it this time.

“Did you kill him?” he finally relented, mentioning towards him quickly with a tug of his shoulder.

“What-” You recoiled, head slightly jerking back in disbelief. “No. Didn’t you?”

“He was like this when I got here.” He paused, and you let him speak. “And then you came in; thought you were comin’ back to check.”

“I just got here.”

“I can’t confirm that.” His answer was instantaneous, almost cutting you off before you finished.

“And I can’t confirm you didn’t kill him.” You took a step away from Pierce, never breaking his gaze. “The odds are kinda against you here.”

“I didn’t kill him.” He only took a step toward you, making you stop where you were. He wasn’t going to let you get out of this.

“What a compelling argument,” you drawled sarcastically. “Then what are you doing here?”

“Cookin’ him dinner,” he snapped back quickly in a manner that would usually make you smile if it weren’t for the situation you were in presently. “What do you think?”

“Who sent you?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Why did they send you?”

“I can’t tell you that either.”

“Then give me a reason why I shouldn’t pull this trigger right now.”

“You first.”

It was a shame you had to kill him. You found his resilience fun.

“Well, it was pleasant-” You were cut off by the sound of a bullet whizzing past your head. It struck the vase next to the couch, instantly exploding into hundreds of shards.

“Did you just fucking shoot at me?” you yelled, swiftly raising your gun so that it was pointed at his forehead.

But he wasn’t looking at you. He was looking at the large glass, too distracted to pay heed to what you were saying.

You slowly followed his line of sight to the window.

A large fracture in the glass surrounded a small hole, nearly invisible from your distance if you weren’t looking hard enough.

You looked back at him to find him staring at you.

A split second later the glass sheet shattered, sending the pieces all over the room. You launched yourself behind the couch heavily, avoiding the barrage of bullets being shot your way.

From the corner of your eye you could see the man dive to take cover behind the couch with you.

“What the fuck?” you asked loudly, back pressed against the backrest as various items shattered around you. “Who the hell are these guys?”

“The shittiest bodyguards ever.” He looked over his shoulder but slid back down again when a shot nearly missed his face.

You didn’t even know where to shoot; the bullets just seemed to be coming from the shadows of the trees.

Taking a moment to assess the man breathing hard next to you. He was tall and muscular, a tight fighting shirt stretching across his chest. His hair was cropped, eyes dark with what looked like irritation more than anger. Hot.

Your attention was drawn to a trail of blood left on his forehead as he wiped at it with his forearm, him seemingly unaware of it.

“Dude, I think you got grazed.”

He looked at you questioningly. You pointed at his arm with your shoulder. His eyes dropped to it, letting out a string of curses as he tugged his sleeve back to look at the wound.

He didn’t have to pull it back much before the sight of a familiar design greeted you.

A spider web. Drawn intricately with the lines stretching delicately across his skin like lace.

A tattoo.

“You work for Ransone?” None of this made sense. Why were there two of you on the same mission? Who was this guy? Was he supposed to be here?

You didn’t wait for his answer, pulling your sleeve back to reveal the same tattoo, smaller in size, but indicative enough.

He took a second to process. You could almost see the gears turning in his head.

“Great,” he finally said as a bullet lodged itself in the wall you were facing, bitterness lacing his words. “It’s a set up.”

“Oh, one more thing, Y/N.”

You spun on your heel to look at him. A devilish smile grew on his face.

“Remember- we don’t tolerate liars.”

You stared at him, not uttering a word, waiting for him to make his point.

“So make sure you let him know that.” His smile only grew as you turned around and walked out the door, letting it shut behind you.

The crunching of feet over glass made you look over your shoulder, only to quickly retract before your head was blown off.

They were wearing ski masks and all black tactical suits, leaving not even an inch of their skin uncovered.

“I count four or five. There may be more,” the man next to you said slowly.

“You take the ones on the left, I’ll take right,” you instructed, seeing him nod his head. You didn’t even know his name but apparently you were working together now. 

You gave a small countdown before pivoting on your knee to face them, eyes already set on your target.

Firing off two shots, you saw the first one fall to the floor, soon accompanied by his teammate as you shot a round at his forehead.

Four were down, counting the bodies next to them on the floor, but the bullets didn’t stop firing at you. They clearly were in a much larger number than you anticipated.

You weren’t sure how many more bullets the couch could absorb. The both of you were basically sitting ducks; who knew how many more were out there. You had limited ammo because you didn’t expect a fucking SWAT team when you came to kill one man.

“We need to go,” he voiced your exact concern.

“Yep,” you grunted, shifting to reload your gun from the spare ammo in your pocket.

You didn’t know how to get out of here considering that you didn’t bring your own-

“I got a plan,” you said. He looked at you inquisitively. “You know the window in the west bedroom, hall dead-end?”

He nodded. Perhaps he was the one who left it open when he arrived.

“On the count of three, make a run for it.” You winced as a bullet tore through the fabric of the couch, right near where your shoulder was a second ago.

“We can’t outrun them,” he hissed, quickly shooting behind him before rejoining you on the floor.

“Trust me.” Bold ask. You wondered if he would.

“I don’t.”

“Do it anyway.”

You didn’t really care if he didn’t. At least you’d get out.

“One.” You shifted to sit on your knee. You could see him sit still, not joining you.

“Two.” Your gun was pressed to your side, at the ready.

“Three.” Like an athlete in a race you took off, not daring to look behind you even once as shots rode the air, narrowly missing your body.

You almost didn’t hear his groan and a small “Fuckin’ hell” before heavy footsteps ran behind you.

You smiled triumphantly, until you remembered the both of you were being followed, at least four more shooters hot on your heels.

You shot a single shot behind you, hearing someone wheeze before a loud thump of a body hitting the floor. Hopefully it wasn’t the guy you were with, but you couldn’t find it in your to care much if it was.

You raced past the numerous rooms you passed on the way here before it suddenly widened into the open kitchen.

Your body moved in autopilot, a detour in the form of a quick skip as you reached over and grabbed the contents of the bowl on the counter, fumbling to hold onto the car keys as loose change fell to the floor.

The oven timer went off, not for long before you heard its door splinter into pieces as someone shot at it in annoyance.

You took a sharp right into the room, followed by the man who took the time to kick the door shut behind him, buying you maybe a second or two of time.

You nearly flung yourself out of the window, the gravel not exactly providing the softest landing as you scrambled to open the door of the car.

“Get in!” you yelled at him as he obliged, yanking the door and jumping into the passenger seat. You threw the few dollars you had caught hold of by mistake on the floor of the car.

You could hear the door of the room being kicked open, and what seemed like angry shouting as the window cracked, leaving nothing in its wake.

You revved the engine, slamming the accelerator with as much power as you could. The car lurched backwards, and you cursed, switching gears to go forward. 

The harsh sound of metal on metal followed you as they shot at whatever they could. You prayed they wouldn’t accidentally hit the wheel or gas tank. They didn’t exactly seem like the best in the business, having missed most of their shots. 

“Go go go!” The guy beside you was holding on to his seat tightly for support.

The car broke through the rusty gates. You cringed at the dent on the hood, but didn’t slow down even for a second as you wove through trees of the estate, not losing speed even as you got onto the highway.

Silence befell the both of you for a good amount of time, but not enough time to process what had just happened. Your adrenaline was still high as you drove well above the speed limit. 

Your next step was unclear.

You were in a car with a complete stranger. You weren’t sure if you were injured somewhere. You didn’t even know where you were driving to.

“Alright,” he cleared his throat. “What the hell was that?

Part 2

[kuyurasu]

Spider Lily

Dottore x Reader

Part 2

Part 3

Summary ; Soulmates are tied with their lifespan. After being sold to a man as a slave in Sumeru, you forgot about the boy you saved as a child. He didn't.

WC ; an obscene amount

Reading time ; depends.

Warnings ; look at part 1

Authors Note ; enjoy

"Pack up, then, foolish girl. You will want to get some warmer clothes for this."

It took a while. But when you felt your own heart beating in your chest as you woke up, you were surprised. Your head was aching with a pounding headache like never before. Surprisingly, you were still alive. After your mental breakdown, all you could think about was how this was it for you—you were certain of it, so how were you still here? Alive? Breathing?

"You're awake." A cold, distant voice sounded. It was masculine and slightly rude, but there were creases of concern for you in his eyes. You turned to look at him, your eyes feeling dry and blurry.

He sat across a fire from you, a mask over his face and a hood drawn over his head. He wore dark clothes, like he belonged to some weird cult. You didn't have any words as you looked at him, your eyes wide in shock and concern. Would he take you back? Was he one of them?

"You were asleep for 4 days. I had to convince three harbingers that I hadn't abandoned my post just for you. You should consider yourself lucky in more ways than one." He rambled on, looking at you with a dismissive gaze, before standing and walking over to a bag, pulling out some soft food. "You went into shock. I had to fucking pull you out of an entire mental breakdown before you killed yourself." He grumbled quietly, walking over to you with a flask of water and food. "Not too quickly."

You took the water and followed his warning to not drink the substance too quickly. Your heart pounded as it suddenly had what your body craved, and your head was getting dizzy for a moment. You had always had a limited supply of water, not only to keep you from getting too strong, but because out of 20 slaves, it could be pricey. And Lord, help them if they had to spend too much money on slaves.

"I noticed your tongue. Can you speak properly?" He asked quietly, pulling his hood down to show his pale blonde hair. It suited his equally pale features.

You gave a so-so expression, opening your mouth to show that your tongue hardly touched your teeth if you tried. Talking was complicated.

He was silent for a moment, looking blandly at the display, before sighing. "If the doctor was here, he'd be able to fix that shit, but..." He sighed quietly and looked up at the young woman with a subtle frown. "You should learn to speak simple words. I heard you talk before you passed out, but that's because you were dying. Your body can do more when on the brink of death. I would know." He handed you the soft meal, giving you a warning to eat it slowly as well.

You nodded faintly, your teeth clamping down and chewing on the meat as he talked. It was delicious—well, he didn't seem pleased with it, but considering you had stale or moldy bread your whole life, this was a luxury.

"You're a slave, or were a slave, I should say." You nodded quietly, your heart squeezing painfully while a cold sweat went down your back. It was unreal to think that a few days ago, you were in chains, walking hundreds of miles for work, and now you were sitting by a campfire at dawn with a stranger. "You should get those slave tattoos covered. You don't want to meet your old masters as they see your marks." He commented after a while, taking a bite of the meal as well.

It took a while before you felt comfortable trying to talk to him, being wary and not all there mentally, but he was patient, surprisingly.

His name was Zakhar. He told you he was a Snezhnayan resident. You had never been to that nation on account of the cold and other reasons the slave owners didn't disclose. Something about Fatui Zakhar was relatively chatty, yet some of his words had a distinct accent that took a while for you to understand. He also began to teach you how to extend your shortened tongue to speak as well as possible.

"Sss. Try it. You need to curve your tongue slightly and press it near your teeth. Again." He commanded you, showing you how to properly say the S. It took many tries, but you got there.

"Ch.. s… Sss… S." You sounded finally, looking up at Zakhar, as he seemed a bit proud and pleased. He nodded his head and gestured for you to continue.

That night, he took off his mask for the first time. It was when he came back from washing himself that his face was covered with his normal clothing, but there was no mask on his face. He probably assumed you would be asleep, but he should've known by now that you could hardly ever keep your eyes shut. Whether it be because of the screams and terrors or the world you could not see enough of,

"Zak…har." You slurred slightly, looking up with surprise. You didn't expect the bright red eyes to turn and look at you with a startled expression. You blushed instinctively, feeling like you were getting caught looking at something you weren't supposed to.

He quickly put his mask back on, not wanting to be seen without it. "You should've been asleep." He nearly growled out, turning away from you so he could continue drying off his hair.

You swallowed and remembered his teachings for your stupid tongue. "I'm sorry. I didn't know." You quietly laid down on the blanket that had become your bed.

He shook his head, signaling he didn't wish to talk any longer. It made you sigh but listen to his warning.

The next day, you awoke to nearly half of the stuff already packed away. The mini-camp Zakhar had set up was nearly gone. He was stuffing some things in his bag before noticing you were awake. Your eyes are glued to his form. He sighed and looked at you. "I need to leave for Snezhnaya. I was supposed to be there yesterday; the doctor will have my head if I don't leave now." Your heart slightly dropped at the information, and the agonizing realization finally dawned on you.

You would be alone. He was leaving you. Why? Why was he leaving you? Your heart began to race, your eyes staring off in the distance while you processed all of this. He was leaving you, abandoning you. Just like everyone else. Your breathing began to get labored, and tears you didn't realize slipped down your cheeks as your body lightly trembled. It was like you were stuck in a trance—your mind not wanting to process this or even think about what this meant. He was leaving you alone. Could you convince him to stay? He's taught you so much; there were so many things you had to learn and think about with him as your teacher. Your heart feels like it just may give up again.

Hands braced your shoulders and snapped you out of your almost meltdown, securing you as your breaths continued to shake.

"Stop. I know you're probably used to people leaving you; we need to work on that." You didn't know if it was Zakhar's voice securing you or if it was his hands. It was the only thing that made you able to be relatively there. At the words of working with him in your panic, you relaxed every so slightly. He wasn't going to abandon you. "Listen to me. You are about to make a very important choice. Something that was taken from you." The power of having control He was giving it to you in the most realistic way possible, by making you understand the seriousness of the situation. It made you feel... electric, almost. You had a hand in what was happening.

You nodded faintly, trembling still, as he slowly released your shoulders. He sat on his knees in front of you, a mask covering his features. Everything but those bright red eyes.

"I work in Snezhnaya. It is a cold, cruel nation. My sister is there as well, and I believe it could be beneficial to you to learn and get help. She is better at this than I am." He gestured to himself and then at a space in between you two, knowing he wasn't quite up to the job of helping undo the trauma that soaked your bones. It was practically imprinted in your mind after hundreds of years, and something told you it would take you just as long, if not longer, to help with that curse of yours.

You thought of the offer and already knew your choice. It was a clear and easy decision considering, at this moment, he was all you had. "I want to go with you."

He smiled. It was the most you got from him when you pleased him, especially when you finally spoke about what you wanted.

"My apologies, Lord Harbinger." He said it with an almost shaky tone.

A day later, you were on a ship off to Snezhnaya, warm clothes and all. Zakhar placed his hood over his head for the first time since meeting you, covering most of his face with shadows once more. He gave you a mask as well. He was adamant about it and seemed nervous when you questioned it with a slight tilt of your head. While on the ship, Zakhar fidgeted with his fingers, looking off in the distance, which no doubt was where the nation would be. It confused you as to why he was so nervous. He went silent after a while as well, getting closer and closer to the frozen tundra.

He grabbed all your things, and when you both docked, he was guarded, reserved, and hostile. Just like when you first met him. It didn't really bother you since all your life was harsh; it just boggled your mind why the suddenness of such an attitude changed.

"2 weeks. You have been absent far too long." A cold, harsh voice sounded from the distance. Standing across the docks was a man with light blue hair, fancy Snezhnayan clothes, and a scowl on his face. A crow-like, almost plague-like mask covered most of his features, but from the energy that radiated from him, you knew this man was lethal. It made you tremble and almost instinctively bow.

Zakhar guarded you with his body, hiding you from view from the man as he bowed his head and swallowed thickly.

So this man was the reason why he was nervous, you thought.

"Do not try to apologize. Prime would have given you hell if he were aware of your foolishness, unless it was for me. You are lucky he left for business."

The only question in your mind, though, wasn't about what you had to do or where you had to go. But who was that man?

Zakhar swallowed and nodded his head, not daring to speak anymore without permission, especially after knowing how angry the harbinger clearly was. You didn't make a noise either, even as the man slowly walked closer. His pale skin almost looks a bit sickly.

"Is this feeble woman the reason for your disappearance? You decide to disregard your duties for a mere fornication with... this beast?" He turned his eyes to where you stood behind him before scoffing and laughing in his low, intimidating tone. You had your face and body covered, but you could tell he thought you were hideous. How could he not? You were sickly-looking, weak, and feeble, and you were barefoot.

Zakhar remained silent, knowing that if he spoke without permission, he may very well be killed.

The man continued to walk closer, closing the gap of distance between the three of you, and Zakhar guarded you like his life depended on it with his head bowed. "You reported the discovery of a rare artifact for testing. Give it to me now. Or else your cock will be chopped off for this offense."

Your friend trembled for only a moment before retrieving an item in his bag and handing it to the other man, his eyes behind the mask clearly judging the item with cold precision.

"Very well. This will suffice. You are expected to report to the palace tomorrow at the normal time. Do not expect Omega or Prime to be as forgiving as me." And with that, the man turned around, the cloak he wore falling behind him as he walked back into the frozen, snowing city. It caused a sigh of relief for both of you. He was probably someone you felt the most danger from yet. It made you tremble.

"Right… That was something. Let us go. We have... much to do." Zakhar sighed and took your arm in his, knowing that it would be easy to get lost or have bad luck in this nation.

[blackandblue13]

as i reread/post-new-chapters-of smsias, i’m going to add silly, little trivia facts to this post below the cut so uhhh here (also spoilers if you haven't read the fic. any content warnings are listed on the ch pages on ao3):

1. ordinary (train; spider-man 2)

lol @ myself for setting this in chicago (i’ve been to CA once, and the closest i got to LA was universal studios, so i don’t think i could accurately write spider-man stuff with LA geography. and i live in chicago. so). at least i’m not the only person who uprooted jatp from LA/LF/CA, though. i’ve read some royalty AUs, a fic set in florida, some where carrie/flynn/julie or alex/bobby/luke/reggie live in new york, so at least i’m not the Only person taking jatp somewhere else for non-tour purposes.

my high school chemistry teacher from sophomore year? mrs. boyle. she had the same notecard system of death that professor boyle does (and she’s teaching alex/reggie chemistry in their sophomore year of college lol). i hated her so much. fuck you, kara. i liked my physics teacher (ms. senser, junior year), though! but i felt weird naming a fictional chemistry professor after a real-life physics teacher. sorry, marybeth 😭.

lol bobby texted reggie to ask if he needed a ride home from class. i forgot about that specific message while writing ch10, because i had bobby insist that he would drive reggie home from class during the ch10 origin story flashback.

lmao reggie asking the gals to lie and tell bobby he’s not at the studio and pleading “just this once” (spoiler alert, reggie would lie to bobby more than just that one time).

the test tube! lol i don’t remember if i reread ch1 before writing ch10 but i’m really glad reggie accidentally getting cut by the test tube remained consistent. wait actually i probably did because i specifically remember the hair comment. still. silly.

lyft! i prefer lyft to uber. also i think weird stuff was happening with uber during jan-apr 2021 irl, so i was like “let’s have reg take a lyft.”

it is so silly to me how carrie/flynn/julie are so quick to catch onto reggie’s superhero dreams. they probably have superhero dreams of their own. i just think it would be so cool to be a guy-in-the-chair (as much as i would also enjoy being in the action, too. but also i am weak with injuries, so guy-in-the-chair may be a better job for me anyway).

“thank you, tobey maguire” — i really prefer the version of spider-man where the spider bite gave him the power to shoot his own webs (the tech of andrew and tom’s was still p cool). i didn’t think about the logistical aspect of spidey having to adapt his diet though, so i don’t think that is brought up until after reggie’s partners find out about his spidey-life.

i have no idea how or what bobby could have possibly cried at during all three hsm movies but he did!!! hsmtmts cause of crying was likely 01x04 when ricky is in his sad boy hours because i cried at that and i project onto bobby a lot.

carrie and bobby live in lake point tower but i don’t think i ever established a place of residence for trevor? oops lol.

i love that i threw in these details of bobby having tattoos and a motorcycle, and bringing reggie flowers, and then completely forgetting about it for the longest time. there is a single comment about bobby chasing after reggie on his bike, and also the ot4 tattoo scene in ch9, and bobby having forgotten that he used to bring reggie flowers and hadn’t brought flowers for luke or alex, too, until ch6. so at least they make a comeback?

oh okay so maybe i tried to write a version of luke’s “four” that will never see the light of day because i only got as far as the melody for the chorus.

it’s so weird to read earlier chapters of this fic because of the gendered words and only he/him pronouns for bobby. i think i started projecting genderlessness onto them in july when i stopped using she/her pronouns? so i’ve had to change a lot of original draft stuff because i wrote some stuff (that was recently posted/the next couple of chapters to be posted) before deciding to write bobby as nonbinary. so. y’all can blame my personal gender crisis for bobby’s in-fic-gender-crisis.

it is so silly to me how this entire first chapter is just like. brief portion of present day. giant chunk of a flashback. little bit of present day, longer than before. another flashback, but much shorter. okay back to present day again lol.

dang. remember how reggie is hesitant to say “i love you” to bobby during the may 2020 flashbacks? and then when we get to present day of september, he says it so easily to alex? wish we got to see that buildup (yes i know i’m the author shush).

(august 2020 flashback) reggie thinking things are weird between him and bobby because he kissed bobby’s cheek… that is just so silly to me because bobby spent this chapter’s may 2020 flashback, as well as ch10’s may 2020 section, being very physically affectionate with reggie. including kisses to hand/knuckle and top of head. and also him admitting that the entire ot4 is affectionate that way, as in they all kinda kiss each other all the time even though they’re not romantically together (except alex/luke but we don’t know that yet lol). silly goose. silly reg.

i think the whole issue of reggie hesitating to say “i love you” to bobby but having an easier time with alex is because bobby and reggie had a conversation where they explicitly confessed their romantic feelings for each other. alex, on the other hand? reggie has romantic feelings for him, but alex doesn’t know that, nor does reggie have any idea if alex feels similarly about him (and this is the same situation with luke). so, saying “i love you” to bobby feels like a confession he isn’t ready for, somehow an accidental sign that he wants to begin their romantic relationship earlier than he wants to.

ahh yes i love the vicious push-up competition of asexual solidarity 😤😤😤

2. you’re that spider-guy — hans zimmer; the amazing spider-man 2)

my short chapter! the baby of the fic! it’s like 2.5k words i think? all my writing is basically “me yelling for eight hours in order to properly explain the universe because i have adhd and i need y’all to see exactly what i’m seeing except sometimes i forget to describe things oops”

anyway. i love the mini-arc of reg-meeting-his-partners-as-spidey. it seems like the scariest thing in the world because he’s never been face-to-face with the magician so that dude’s obviously not going to become relevant (/s), and he’s trying so hard to keep his secret from his partners, and then he has to save all three of them? (alex from a car, luke, bobby from his own internal spiraling) so silly.

i love making insta posts for the gang. i love them. sometimes the chapters are already too long or the mood is way too serious, and an insta post doesn’t fit the vibe, but when they are in a ch, they make me smile :)

3. (i wish i could be) honest — “honest” by the neighbourhood; the amazing spider-man 2

first time linking the playlist yay!!

also the first time more than one member of the ot4 (aka more than just reg lol) is Going Through It

“should reggie be more worried about luke’s opinion of spider-man?” haha, Yes!

carrie’s papaya conditioner that reggie used? garnier fructis 3-options-in-1 rinse-out conditioner, leave-in conditioner, and hair mask. would recommend. it makes my hair feel soft.

someone pls yell at me to fix the italics formatting of the alex/reggie phone call toward the end. i tried to do it on my phone twice, but then safari was like “network connectivity lost go fuck off i hate you” so i have to wait a few days until i have my laptop again.

i’ve tried the cold brew and lemon bar ice creams from jeni’s, the mango milk cloud, strawberry milk cloud, and brown sugar boba from hello jasmine, and all five cupcake flavors (creme brulee, tiramisu, cookies and cream, s'mores, peanut butter nutella) from molly’s — absolutely amazing. would recommend.

4. (nobody knows the danger we’re in) on this sunny day — “picture this” by the cast of spider-man: turn off the dark

i wonder why reggie and spider-man text the same way,,, /s

i love the alex/reggie scene before they go into the courthouse. this ch was entirely written without it, like originally, it would’ve gone from alex/reg’s text convo straight into the insta post of them with the ring pops, which would have made this seem like a wildly impulsive decision. but then at the last minute i was like “well reggie’s parents suck; is he really going to be able to get married on a whim without overthinking it?” and the answer was no because mans has spent the last three chapters overthinking, and he will spend the rest of the fic overthinking. so. hooray for last-minute realizations of plot consistencies.

y’all have my sister to blame for any marriage stuff that happens in my fics. i was writing the beginning chapters around the time she got unofficially engaged in march, and she and her mans had been talking about wedding/engagement stuff for, like, the six months before.

5. undercover — pete yorn; spider-man

shoutout to jo for helping me figure out the costumes. i wrote the entire ch for realizing “the reader should know what everyone else besides reg is wearing, right?” and i: could not decide on a costume for anyone aside from 1, not wanting iron man (because i hate iron man and rdj, and i wanted to avoid iron man And spider-man both appearing in the ot4), 2, not wanting there to be both loki And thor within the ot4, 3, not wanting a marvel-romance-crossover between the ot3 and ot4. the closest we get to that is captain america/black widow because of that fake dating distraction kiss in “the winter soldier” but i think it’s nice and silly that alex and carrie are in those costumes. it’s a fun mlm/wlw solidarity if you think about it too hard (but also in general because alex/carrie are besties who dance and do yoga together and i love them).

bobby’s halloween costume being loki is unintentionally gender foreshadowing. because loki is genderfluid and sometimes gender envy (and i’m 90% jo suggested loki for bobby because loki and taylor kare give them gender envy. which is. 100% understandable. i too get gender envy from taylor kare). (okay maybe bobby’s gender arc is because of my own gender crisis AND jo’s suggestions. thank you, jo.)

fun fact: i had absolutely no idea how the hielo/fuego/spidey interaction was going to end, so i was like "let's just throw him off the roof" lol and then i accidentally broke the spidey suit oops

6. you can laugh, you can feel fine — “learn to crawl” by black lab; spider-man

spidey-skirt! we love the spidey-skirt :)

i uhh Did Not Plan for the spidey suit to be out of commission, so this ch Did Not Exist in the original draft. hehe.

bobby's discomfort with being shirtless = weird gender feelings and general discomfort with existing.

wilson worldwide banjo/guitar creation is fully based on me thinking about how much i love my banjolele

someone Please tell me they caught onto the color scheme of bobby's bouquet. yellow, white, purple, black? it's the nonbinary flag?? i'm foreshadowing their coming out???

i named mark after a guy i don't like irl lol

oh yeah nick exists in this fic verse. idk if he does anything aside from "dorm with willie." nick is at columbia too (i had to confirm this with my actual fic notes, bc i pictured willie and nick living at the UC dorm building, which houses students from columbia, roosevelt, saic, and i think uic law?). which is very irrelevant in the grand scheme of this fic bc i don't touch upon the college aspect of their lives very often (but also the main focus is spidey-reg, not jatp-gang-in-college)

yaaaaaaay the ot4 is picking fights /s

when luke says that they should all stop keeping secrets from each other and bobby is the first to jump in and be like "wait here's an exception" = him not ready to come out as enby, and not wanting to feel like he's "hiding" part of his identities from the partners

"yeah, i totally fuck with privacy" what a good line. good job, me.

projecting onto characters is fun! like bobby, i get migraines that are sometimes eased by ice packs. and i hate loading the dishwasher.

also bobby probably had a migraine for normal life stress reasons, but they probably would have secluded themself to the second bedroom anyway because of weird gender feelings persisting all day.

OH lol so i don't remember if i fell asleep in the middle of writing the last scene of the chapter OR if i had just woken up, but either way, i had just had a really realistic dream where i saw my bed or my room or something, but something felt very Off, and i couldn't place what it was, and then i woke up out of nowhere. and then i wrote it into the fic so bobby would have that dream, too.

7. this photograph is proof (i know you know) — taking back sunday; spider-man

this ch is like 16k words which meant it ended up being an hour and 46 minutes when i recorded the podfic (which i split into three parts bc my laptop did some weird thing at the end of the original first part, so then i was like "okay i guess i'll split it into two parts" and then i had to re-record the first part, and it was more balanced to do three parts, whatever. fun and silly tech problem).

in the original draft, during the bobby/spidey rooftop scene, bobby told spidey that one of his friends wasn't a big fan of spidey bc he [friend, luke] thinks spidey has a better ass than him. luke was referred to as a friend in the original draft bc the main ship of the fic was bobby/reggie (not ot4, unfortunately), and then in the second draft, the line stayed but the ot4 wasn't public with their relationship. in the actual, published version, the ot4 is together and public, and the ass jealousy (lol) line becomes throwaway dialogue in the november section of ch5 (after team spidey gets coffee and returns to the ot4's condo). i also had no idea how i would have ended this scene with either of the original drafts, so y'all can thank my personal gender crisis, as well as bobby's crisis, for giving me a great opportunity for something that bobby/spidey could talk about that isn't them yelling at spidey for flirting with his partners.

haha "spider-dick"

i love molly's cupcakes. new flavor mentioned: boston creme for lex. i actually don't remember if this is a real flavor or if i just made it up for fic purposes or if i was thinking about donuts (and if i WAS thinking about donuts, then this becomes a fun reference to cmbcyb, in which reg's fave donut flavor is boston creme)

sharkboy and lavagirl! cinematic masterpiece

as y'all can tell, my main headcanons for bobby are: genderless, sleep-deprived/insomniac, loves coffee, uncultured (in a funny way, like with pop culture), migraines, grumpy one who is soft for the sunshine one(s), fall out boy :)

"non-bob-ary" :)

oh lmao i had no idea how to properly transition into the gala bc i didn't want another scene with reporters/paparazzi type (like in ch4 i think?) and with my sister getting married this year and constantly in wedding-planning-mode, i think she mentioned stuff about where she and her mans want to honeymoon after the wedding, so i was reminded that honeymoons are a thing, and then i was like "lol these silly geese impulsively got married and never discussed honeymoon"

alex spits out the jalapeño popper bc he can't handle spice /hj

i know i trashed the vegetarian alternative foods but some meatless "meatballs" and vegan hot dogs are really good. but sometimes they're really weird and sad.

y'all don't understand how many times i had to count to 9 to ensure that i included the ot4, the ot3, ray, and trevor, and then make sure that i didn't accidentally count to 5 when i was thinking about the ot4

again with the original draft and main ship being bobby/reggie -- that meant just the two of them would have gone on a date to the ww gala that night, and i'm p sure luke and alex wouldn't have attended at all. there was also some weird side plot about bobby/reggie and carrie/flynn/julie not being Out, so there was some fake-date nonsense of bobby/flynn and carrie/reggie hanging out together so reporters wouldn't suspect gay nonsense. i had absolutely no idea where i would've gone with that. i think i wrote a little tiny bit of this idea out, and then i moved it to my "spare parts" google doc (of fic ideas i've abandoned lol) bc there was no way to incorporate that into the actual, final draft of the fic.

i knew i wanted "this photograph is proof (i know you know)" to be the ch title very early on in the writing process bc i wanted 1, the bobby/spidey rooftop run-in with the picture taking (shoutout to taylor kare for being a photographer) and 2, the reveal of the conspiracy board. also! bobby was not supposed to have seen the board; that was only going to be team spidey, but then i couldn't figure out a good/nice way to get rid of them so reg could go upstairs alone, and then i was like "wouldn't it be silly, and unintentionally add an extra layer of angst, if one of reg's partners found out about the spidey-stuff before the other two? haha!"

lol hey magic man

there's no j jonah jameson equivalent in this spidey-verse but luke calling spidey a menace in front of all the gala guests and first responders is the closest we get

"reggie loves finding cool rocks" yeah he sure does!!!

hehe brooch

the coffee metaphor is so silly like why is that what's running through reg's head when he's in the middle of a crisis lol whatevs

every time i was like "okay this chapter is over" when i was writing it, i kept finding more stuff to add, so then it just Kept Going which is super silly, and that's how it ended up being 16k! bc i never shut up!!

OH this ch almost ended up being Even Longer bc i had this idea for alex/bobby to have a nice lil convo (while luke was in the bathroom and reg was changing in the closet) talking about this video alex had watched by a polyam blogger (polyphiliablog, bc i love their tiktoks) about how it can be better for polycules to ask someone outside of the relationship to mediate arguments (bc they're not directly involved or dating anyone, so they can offer a less biased opinion) and it was going to be a nice little infodump section, but then i had no idea how to transition in or out of it, and i also wanted to let the ot4 Sleep so i was like "alright i gotta scrap this idea, they've had a long night. if alex isn't actively offering to mediate the bob/reg argument when he overhears it bc he's tired and also staying by luke's side while luke throws up, there's no way he's going to have the energy to infodump, and bobby likely won't have the energy to process the infodumping and properly appreciate alex's research"

8. your heart knows when you’re hiding — “boy falls from the sky” by the cast of spider-man: turn off the dark

i knew from the beginning that i wanted “boy falls from the sky” to be the ch title for whenever spider-man and the magician had their showdown at navy pier. it wasn’t until i had been obsessively listening to my smsias playlist that i heard the lyric “your heart knows when you’re hiding” and delved into the idea of reggie’s conflict between hiding/revealing himself, and in ch1 when reggie is thinking about his feelings for bobby, he also admits “there and luke-and-alex-shaped pieces of his heart,” and the comparison of all three of his partners being what makes up his heart, and the ot4 knowing each other so well, therefore All Of That^^ equating to the line “[reggie’s] heart (his partners) knows when you’re hiding”

i also intended for the literal “boy falls from the sky” moment (of the magician attacking reggie, then reggie passing out as he drops to the earth) to be more dramatic, like an “oh shit, this has never happened before” but then i threw in that thing in ch5 when hielo and fuego throw reg off the roof. but oh well.

ahaha luke getting mad at reg for the reveal was one of the few things i wrote in the original draft that stayed pretty intact through revisions

the chapter was originally going to end with the lines “And then he’s falling — Reggie has never been more alone in his entire life. alone, alone, alone. None of this would’ve happened if he wasn’t so selfish, didn’t think with his heart instead of his head, didn’t knowingly endanger his family with every passing second — and then the world goes dark.” as one paragraph, but then i got the silly idea of “lol what if his life flashed before his eyes because apparently that’s what happen when people die,” so that’s where THAT came from. and i figured, with the way i could split up aforementioned line, the best course of action would be three scenes (yay rule of threes!), and the most painful types of scenes would be any where it’s emphasized that he is so incredibly loved by his found family. plus i never showed an ot4 date, despite writing their getting-together scene, and i didn’t think of the team spidey letter scene until after the chapter in which it would have fit best. and there’s minimal ray content, and the only carlos moment before this one is a single insta comment.

also! the team spidey moment is very important to me, because as often as reggie is internally like “i should have been doing this alone the whole time, i shouldn’t have gotten more people involved,” i wanted there to be the consistent, counter-argumentative theme of “no, reggie, it’s okay to ask for help and to rely on other people. you work better with a team by your side, and you are happier when you’re with your loved ones than when you’re alone.” and also the lol moment of reg being like “yeah i wouldn’t have gotten this far without y’all” because he appreciates his amazing team of his best gal friends, and even though he doesn’t say it enough, but he loves them so much!!!

9. stop feeling invisible and start feeling invincible [interlude] — “invincible” by aminé; spider-man: into the spider-verse

i totally forgot reg gave bobby a cool rock during this beach section, bc i recently wrote a scene in the cmbcyb prequel with ABJLR and thomas on the beach, and reg brings a bobby a cool rock in that too, but it didn't click with me that i had already written that same thing months ago lol. i'm keeping it in, though. it was cute.

initial/name tattoos are kinda weird to me but i like the idea of bobby getting them bc he's secretly a sap in every version of him i've ever written

also tattoo employees: bex is named after bex taylor-klaus (the voice actor for pidge in "voltron") and may is named after may parker (from the official "spider-man" universe)

this ch (up until the present day scene) is like. the last Silly Fun Times ch bc everything gets so serious afterward lol. y'all remember that moment in ch8 after the spidey-reveal when alex tells reg to be safe, and reg is internally like "oh god is it going to be this serious all the time?" the answer is Yes ahaha Foreshadowing.

10. when it started — the strokes; spider-man

bobby insisting that the ww employees don't call them "sir" or "mister" = weird gender feelings have been going on for a while, even if they didn't fully realize it until months later

the flashback/origin is one of the earlier things i wrote for this fic (at least the premise of bobby-carrie-reggie going to ww, them sneaking into the ending of trev's presentation, and the lab scene) although i didn't even THINK of the hielo/fuego part until i was writing ch7 when reg has that moment of thinking him getting his powers Wasn't an accident, and then i was like "lol wouldn't it be so silly if hielo and fuego were at ww for whatever reason, maybe they snuck in or maybe they worked there, and they were the reason reg got his powers" and then i made them employees

11. hurry, hurry, hurry before i go insane — “i wanna be sedated” by the strokes; spider-man: far from home

i think it took longer for me to decide on a song/lyrics to title this chapter than it did to actually write the chapter

i wrote out notes for myself of the ot4's separate arcs for the next few chapters (bc they're all going through different stuff, but we, the audience, mainly see the spidey-stuff bc reg pov and also it's a spidey-fic, but obvi alex/bobby/luke's lives don't revolve around spidey-stuff as heavily as reg's does) and the main note? "okay so basically everyone is Going Through It"

haha the gang watches the spidey-movies that's so silly!!!

i was going through some tummy problems while writing this (bc i am a hot girl with acid reflux (gender neutral)) so most of reg's tummy problems are based on my own experience hehe

while i was recording the podfic, police/ambulances kept driving by so that may or may not be heard in the final recording, Except during the actual spidey-and-police scene. the irl police only drove by before or after me recording that part smh my head

12. alone — danny elfman; spider-man

ahaha reggie is Going Through It

i wish i could say more here but i genuinely forgot what i originally wrote, and then tumblr refreshed the draft page before i could say it so Oops. when i reblog this post with notes for future chapters, i'll probably add notes for aforementioned chapters as i remember them.

[twopoppies]

Hi Gina :) this isn't really anything having to do with all the pics going on recently, I just wanted to pop in and ask if (besides the obvious one being your tumblr header) you have any favorite quotes that come to mind from any of the larry fics you've read? I've started making a list of some that I find beautiful whenever I read a new one and wondered if you might have some too! You're an incredible writer so I thought you might have an eye for them :)

You know, there used to be a blog dedicated to that, but I can’t remember the url anymore and I think they’re gone anyway, but yeah... I do have some that I love. I used to be much better about saving them... so these are old, but it’s still some gorgeous writing IMO.

“You look like flowers,” Louis whispers softly. “A meadow. Somewhere warm and colorful and all my own, where I go to be all by myself. And you look like my favorite book with the tea-stained pages, all the highlighted parts that speak to me in ways other books just don’t. You look like a bonfire, the brightest thing around, so bright I can’t look at anything else. And you look like silk, and softness, and happiness. That’s what you look like.” - Hiding Place by alivingfire

“Except I wouldn’t want to keep you, would I?” Louis’ smile instantly dips a little, finger withdrawing, but Harry clasps his wrist, holding it to his chest. “I wouldn’t want to keep you, because I’d make you want to stay.” - A Red-Dusted Planet by onewasturning

Louis slips their fingers together, slotting between the gaps and curling around his like a possum’s tail around a branch. - A Red-Dusted Planet

Louis is looking up at him, and his eyes are as bright as the moon and the projector light flickering through the window, and it’s like Harry has caught starlight in his hands, something like a wish, a hope, shot straight through the night and burning into the fate lines of his palms. - A Red-Dusted Planet

He smiles down at him, all rosy-appled cheeks, and he’s so beautiful, Harry thinks he must have been magicked from the sky itself. Thinks he can still see remnants of the storm spinning in his eyes. - These Roads We Stumble Down by onewasturning

It makes all the sense in the bloody world and the realization cracks over Louis’ head like an egg, dripping down his neck and trailing down to his toes. - The Actor by mizzwilde

"If you were nobody, and had nothing, and were going nowhere at all, I'd go nowhere with you and make it somewhere. And yeah, I'd still want you. Fuck," he laughs, rough into Louis’ mouth. "'Course I'd still want you. You're like, you're like everything. You make me feel everything." - Little Technicolor Things by scarycrow

Instead, he wonders if it’s possible at all to miss something he’s never had. If the tall boy with his long fingers brushing against the turn of Louis’ ankle was supposed to have been in Louis’ life ages ago but the author forgot to write him in when he had meant to, if maybe that’s why Louis is falling into him so quickly, because he’s trying to make up for lost time, trying to catch up. If maybe that’s why Louis’ life has been so off lately. - Little Technicolor Things 

He imagines a world where it’s possible to drag someone back in time, one where time is a two-way street and he can grab Harry’s hand and pull him along until they’re stumbling breathless into the past, into the empty days Louis spent alone and filling those days with Harry—with morning breakfasts and paintings and summer-sun smiles, with cheeks dimpled in laughter. - Little Technicolor Things

“Nothing, just,” Harry starts. He laughs a little, and Louis looks up at him solely because he doesn’t want to miss the way his eyes crinkle when he does. He looks like he’s about to say something else, but then he just shakes his head again and dips to plant a light kiss on Louis’ cheek. “Nothing,” he repeats, and Louis wonders what nothing really means. - Little Technicolor Things

He learns quite a few things about Harry, really, but the one that stands out to him the most is this: Harry is soft. He isn’t soft in a bad way, in the way people these days throw the word around and use it to mean weak and frail and scared. He’s soft like spider webs are soft, like cashmere is soft and the music you fall asleep to is soft. He’s soft when he reaches out slowly across the carpet and touches two fingers to Louis’ wrist without looking at him, soft when he hums along to the songs on the playlist Louis made, soft when he licks his finger and waggles his eyebrows and turns the page of a book, carefully, carefully carefully. Softly, softly, softly. And because he’s soft, he’s brave. Or at least that’s what Louis sees when he looks at him, when he hears him talk about how scared he was moving to London, how angry he was when his dad left, how terrifying the idea of living on his own instead of in a dorm with other university students was. - Little Technicolor Things

Harry does, but not before grinning wide and easy, his arms moving to bracket Louis’ body against the dresser, and Louis melts into him like the winter melts into the spring. His mouth is warm and velvet-y, tongue heavy in Louis’ mouth. The kiss doesn’t feel forgettable right now, but Louis kind of hopes that it is. He hopes that their future is filled with so many kisses that this one is nothing more than one out of a thousand, each one better than the last, that Louis kisses Harry and Harry kisses Louis so many times that the only time he’ll ever remember this kiss is in the middle of some winter night, when he dreams about it and wakes up in the dark, before curling into the curly-haired boy lying next to him and dreaming about the next kiss. - Little Technicolor Things

He thinks that’s kissing Harry is like turning a dial: where everything is cold, now there’s only warmth; where everything was dark, now there’s only light; where everything was bleak, now there’s life, blooming like the blossoms on Cherry trees, blushing pink and white with awaking. With waking up. Harry wakes Louis up. -  Little Technicolor Things

There is so much music in you: bare feet against the floor, the sandpaper glide of your palm on the stair rail, of your skin against mine, of your ceaseless fingers tapping at the table. He's music, Louis thinks. I'm in love with a song. Little Technicolor Things

(clearly, I adore this fic)

And that’s what Harry hates, Louis knows, because black has always had a connotation with death, and despair, and disease. It’s never been associated with good things, happy things.

But there’s more, too. Because Harry isn’t a demon who was twisted into darkness when he was still human; he chose darkness, a self-sacrifice. His soul is black but in the same way the night sky is black: deep and endless, sprinkled with bits of light. Sparkle. Vast and overwhelming, containing the possibilities for anything.

It’s black like panther fur is black, shifting blues and purples when the light hits a splay of powerful muscle. It’s black like an eclipsed moon. Black like tattoo ink. The blackness has meaning; the blackness is meaning: it hides speckles of brilliance in its depths, adds contrast to the bronze braids of hope and faith in Harry’s soul, the harp strings of kindness buried inside him that the sin could never touch.  - Say Hallelujah, Say Goodnight by alivingfire

I’m sure I have others... but these are the ones I came across first. Thank you for the great ask. It’s refreshing! LOL. And thank you for the wonderful compliment. It means a lot. 💜