#MY BAD i set it to one day the first time

[onbearfeet]

So this is my wildly unscientific two cents, but ... some wolfdogs really are this specific combo of smart/spooky, and it is as amazing as it is terrifying.

I used to spend time at what amounted to a wolf/wolfdog rescue, a place where hand-raised wolves and wolfdogs ended up if their humans couldn't handle them. The most common reason they ended up there was that the sheer That's Not A Dog-ness finally got to someone. They were refugees from a canine uncanny valley. Very good puppers, most of them, but you had to look past the deep spookiness. English isn't set up for this, so the best I can say is it makes you think about the first humans to domesticate wolves, and how their neighbors were probably scared of them because what the FUCK is that THING walking beside you, Thog??? I suspect the process of selectively breeding wolves into dogs was at least 50% selecting out the creepy factor.

These animals are smarter than you think an animal should be. They are highly social and AMAZING at picking up human cues, especially if they've been raised around a bunch of humans who interact with one another a lot. They can and will problem-solve and play-act in elaborate ways to fuck with you for their own amusement. If they don't open every door in your house every single day, it's a courtesy. If they stay inside your fence, it's because this is their territory, and maybe they like your snacks. I heard them described often as having "cat personalities", but the cat in question was probably a mountain lion.

Most of them had been bred as either sled dogs or masculinity symbols, primarily the latter. And they KNEW how weird humans are about wolves, and were willing to exploit it. One of them, a high-content wolfdog with striking golden fur, would greet visitors who smelled like food not by jumping or begging but by either sitting and staring or calmly falling into step beside them like she was a familiar in a bad fantasy movie. Neither behavior is normal for wolves meeting new humans, but she'd somehow figured out how to spot humans who believed they had a mystical connection with wolves, and she milked it for extra treats. People who came to "commune with the wild" loved her solemn dignity. I thought it was hilarious that an absolute gremlin had people so thoroughly fooled.

So yes, I believe Jed could act. He probably didn't understand exactly what a movie was or what space aliens were, but he figured out that spookiness got him what he wanted, and he went full spooky.

Wolves and wolfdogs are amazing. Do not get one.

There's a lot of debate if Jed (actor dog from The Thing and a few other movies) was a wolfdog or not. He was said to be half wolf half malamute, but to me he looks too much like a dog to be half wolf. Sorry if you've been asked this question about him before, but what's your opinion on it?

He was a wolfdog! He’s was a low-content malamute mix, and a very talented boy! He does look like he’s got quite a bit of dog in him, so I wouldn’t say he’s mid content, but if he was he’d be on the lower side.

[komoriiis]

May i pls request fem!reader x sevika? I've been fallen for her since 3 years ago and after her scenes in ep 2 i was so in awe and giddy i need to read more of her 😭🤲

𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐊𝐀 ( 𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐄 ) — 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐂𝐒

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 𝖕𝖔𝖘𝖙 𝖙𝖞𝖕𝖊 :: bullet points / short drabble

˚ ୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝐤𝖔𝖗𝖎 :: im absolutely in love with sevika too so this was really good timing!! ive been wanting to write for her and viktor for the longest time :3 i hope youre okay with me doing general hcs, i didnt know if you wanted anything specific so i just did this 😋 also, sorry if she turned out ooc, this is my first time writing for arcane characters 😓

[ masterlists ]

ᥫ᭡ sevika will be the most protective gf ever—anywhere you go, she’ll always be 2 steps behind looking out for you!

ᥫ᭡ its not that she doesn’t think you can take care of yourself, but its just who she is. she gets worried, especially if you’re wandering around in the undercity

ᥫ᭡ she will 100% be your biggest hype woman. whenever you wear something new for date night, you can see her pupils dilating when looking at you with a small smirk on her face

ᥫ᭡ rather than hand holding i think she would be someone to wrap her arms around your waist, almost possessive in a way. when shes not doing that though, she would want you to have a hand holding onto her biceps

ᥫ᭡ will never ever let you tag along with anything work related. shes pretty dead set on separating you with her dirty work, for your safety

ᥫ᭡ some nights when it gets bad, she just wants you to hold her. don’t say anything. don’t ask her questions. just be with her until the next morning

ᥫ᭡ she loves to bring you back little trinkets or accessories from her missions that she thinks you’ll like / will look good on you. she would never admit it, but her heart always skips a beat when she sees you wearing something that she got for you herself

ᥫ᭡ lives for teasing/banter arguments. she finds it so hot when youre all riled up and mad at her, because she knows that she’ll make it up to you later anyways ( WHAAAT 😦 )

ᥫ᭡ she has insane mood swings on her period. one time, she accidentally snapped at you while you were trying to tell her about your day, and she felt so incredibly shitty for like 2 months

ᥫ᭡ sometimes, she gets nightmares of you dying in her arms due to an enforcer attack. its a reoccurring dream, and whenever she jolts awake in a cold sweat, you reassure her that you’re still there. you’re alive, and you’re not going anywhere anytime soon.

ᥫ᭡ sevika finds it adorable when you give her little nicknames. “vika”, “sevi” , “baby” , and “big mama” ( hehe ) are her favorites

ᥫ᭡ tries to have a date night at least once every two weeks. of course she would like it if it happened more often, but with her schedule its just not possible. when you two do go on dates though, she makes sure to go all out and make it the most enjoyable experience for you

ᥫ᭡ her coworkers are so surprised at how soft she has gotten because of you. she has something to fight for other than zaun now, and once they get their promised land then she’ll finally settle down with you and live through the rest with you by her side

𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 © 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐢𝐢𝐬. 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 !

[maddiethedogstories]

Her Own Worst Enemy

This is my entry into yet another writing competition with @baby-erica and @destinedfordiapers. Go vote for who made their target the blushiest here!

Erica absolutely adored Mads. He was tall, strong, handsome, and dominant.

Every word he spoke felt like an order. It sent shivers of pleasure down her spine to comply to his ever whim.

That's why she wasn't surprised when one night, after particularly amazing sex, Mads disclosed to her that he was domming another woman online. He told her that the other woman's name was Eri, the Erica's nickname as a child, that she was Erica's age, and that she got off on being Mads' pathetic, diapered, little cuckquen.

Mads told Erica that he spoke to Eri like a child. He ordered her to wear and use diapers. He also told her about all of Mads and Erica's sexual escapades, taunting Eri's face with details of sexual encounters that she would never have.

As Mads explained his relationship with Eri, Erica's pussy started to throb. She couldn't help but start rubbing herself. The idea of some pathetic women rubbing her pissy diaper to the thought of Erica's wild sex set her slit on fire. She felt like a porn star in all of the best ways.

"Um, Mads?" Erica asked her boyfriend coyly as he watched her pleasure herself to the thought of domming another woman, "Do you, uhhhh, think I could help you… mmmm… tease Eri…. gah… too?"

Mads grinned, crawling onto the bed next to Erica and replacing her hand with his own.

"I thought you'd never ask," he responded as his fingers darted into Erica's wet lips, bringing her to a quick, yet marvelous orgasm.

Over the next few months, Erica took an active role in domming poor little Eri. Although Mads never let Erica see or speak to Eri herself, Erica constantly teased Eri via video.

Erica recorded herself riding Mads, Mads taking her from behind, sucking Mads off, and Mads sucking on her tits. She memorialized each sexual encounter with her dream man, as she taunted and teased the diapered woman on the other side of the camera.

"Mmm, Eri, I bet you wish were being filled up with Daddy's cock like me, instead of filling your pants like a fucking baby!"

"Oh, Eri, don't you wish you got to suck Daddy's big, hard cock like me, rather than just that silly little paci?"

"Mmm, Eri, if you had big girl tits like me, maybe Daddy would want to… Mmm…suck yours instead of… fuck, Mads…. mine. To bad you're nothing but a silly baby… fuck… not a… mmm… real woman like me."

"Fuck… Eri, if you weren't so pathetic…. ghhhh… you might be bouncing on Daddy's cock… ffff… like me…. gah… instead of bouncing in your loaded…. fuck… pampers."

Each message Erica recorded got progressively meaner and more degrading. Mads urged Erica's sadism at each turn, begging her to be more ruthless in her naughty recordings as time passed. Mads swore that Little Eri was begging to be degraded and talked down to more with each passing day.

Erica loved it. The power, Eri's humiliation, the mind-blowing sex, it was all so intoxicating.

However, as time passed, Erica found herself wanting to become more involved in Eri's submission. She began to press Mads to meet, or, at the very least, to speak with the other woman.

Each time she broached the subject, however, Mads denied her.

"Eri is shy."

"Eri isn't ready to meet you."

"Eri is too embarrassed to introduce herself yet."

Time after time, Erica's requests to meet Eri were shut down.

That was until, one day, Mads finally relented.

"Erica, you're right, it's probably time you met Eri," Mads said with a sigh as he lied naked in bed next to Erica after a particularly wild love-making session, "but, to meet Eri, you need to understand her situation better first."

Erica swallowed nervously at Mads' last statement. She didn't like the sound of that.

"What do you mean, 'understand her situation better?'" She asked hesitantly.

Mads smiled. "Well, sweetie, before you can meet Eri in person, you need to spend some time in her booties first. If you agree to spend some time in the nursery, I'll arrange for you to meet Eri."

Erica turned on her side and shuddered in both pleasure and fear.

She had never seen the inside of attached to her boyfriend's master bedroom. The nursery always locked, and Mads never let her inside when she asked. She had wanted to see the inside of that room for months now, but not in the way Mads was suggesting it would happen now.

"Like," Erica licked her lips nervously, "Really spend time in the nursery?"

Mads responded quickly, "Yes, baby. ~Really~ spend time in the nursery. I've thought about it, and you can't truly meet Eri until you experience her life a little."

Seeing Mads' determination, Erica knew she had no other options if she ever wanted to meet her boyfriend's diapered pet. So, reluctantly, she agreed to spend some time in the nursery.

The next morning, Erica found herself stripped naked and led into the babyish . Her eyes grew wide as she took in the giant baby furniture, adorned with cuffs and straps meant to detain any unwilling occupants.

Mads led Erica by the hand to a giant changing table and lifted her up on to it with ease.

"Let's get a diaper on that tushy," Mads said, popping a pacifier into Erica's mouth before she could protest.

Erica's cheeks turned bright red with embarrassment as she was expertly lotioned, powdered, and diapered by her boyfriend. In fact, Erica was so embarrassed, she didn't notice Mads slip a suppository up her backside as he taped her into the infantile garment.

"Now, let's complete the look."

Mads helped Erica down from the changing table and immediately began to dress her in a onesie that, somehow, fit her perfectly. He then grabbed some ribbon and quickly tied her hair into two neat pigtails on either side of her head.

"Perfect!" Mads announced as he tied the second bow in Erica's hair, "You look adorable!"

Nervously sucking the pacifier she was given, Erica demurely let herself be lead to the crib and restrained inside with both wrist and ankle cuffs.

"Some time strapped in the crib will really let you know what it feels like to be Eri," Mads said, kissing Erica's forehead.

Erica blushed, wishing this would be over quickly, while at the same time beginning to feel a burning sense of pleasure growing within herself from the humiliation.

As she laid in the crib, Erica noticed a strange object covered by a cloth hanging from the ceiling spanning the length of the crib. The woman was unable to determine what it was. Erica also noticed a large television hanging on a wall nearby.

"Ok, baby, I'm going to let you get settled. Don't worry, Daddy will be back soon," Mads said, leaving the room.

With Mads gone, the suppository inside of Erica worked quickly. The small woman began to thrash in the crib futilely before ultimately giving in and loading her diaper for the first time as an adult.

Erica was softly crying as Mads walked back into the room. Erica was both humiliated and incredibly aroused by the horrifying situation.

"What's wrong, baby? Did somebody make a stinky?"

The mocking made Erica sob harder as Mads walked over and caressed her cheek.

"Hush, baby, I know what will make you feel better. I think it's time you meet Baby Eri!"

Erica watched in horror as Mads pulled the cloth off the object hanging above the crib, revealing a full length mirror. Erica stared at herself, hair in pigtails, strapped into a crib, sucking a pacifier, wearing nothing but a onesie and messy diaper. A horrible realization dawned on her.

"Erica, meet Baby Eri!" Mads said cheerily, "I think you're going to find you have a lot in common!"

Erica turned her head to the side as she heard the television click on.

"I'm going to leave and let you get to know each other. Have fun!" Mads said as he pressed play on the remote and left the room.

Erica, or Baby Eri as she had now become, couldn't help but release a small stream of urine into her thirsty padding as she saw her own face fill the large screen.

Soft panting filled the air before Eri heard her own voice ring out.

"Mmm, Eri, I bet you wish were being filled up with Daddy's cock like me, instead of filling your pants like a fucking baby."

Eri's pussy throbbed in pleasure as she realized what was happening. Not only had she become a diapered cuckquen, but, she was being cucked by herself.

Even worse, Eri thought as she tried to free her hands from the cribs cuffs so she could rub the front of her messy diaper, she couldn't deny this is what she really wanted: To be nothing more than Mads' pathetic diapered plaything.

[redroomreflections]

Something With Sea Turtles

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

A Family Of Her Own AU

(Natasha has a secret family)

Summary: Pregnant R and Natasha loves on her.

Natasha is good at many things. Intimidating bad guys, disappearing without a trace, dismantling a firearm in seconds. Painting walls? Well, that’s a skill she’s still figuring out.

She had insisted on painting the nursery walls for the arrival of your little one in a few months. It was supposed to be a nice bonding experience. But, as with most things involving the two of you, it had quickly turned into a bit of a disaster.

"You said this would be easy," You teased from your spot on the floor, perched on a pile of cushions Natasha had painstakingly arranged for your comfort. Your hand rested on your growing belly as you watched her, amusement tugging at the corners of your mouth.

Natasha stood on a step stool, paint roller in hand, squinting at the wall. She was trying her best to create a soft, underwater gradient—blues and greens swirling together like an aquarium, the perfect theme for your baby’s nursery. But the brush strokes were uneven, and there was a smudge where she got a little overzealous with the darker blue.

"It is easy," she replied, her tone stubborn. "I’m just… experimenting with technique."

"Right," You muttered to yourself. "We could just hire someone."

"No!" She exclaimed, then, more gently: "No. I want to do this."

And, honestly, she did. The baby wasn't a shock by any means. Natasha had been dreaming about this day since the first time she fell in love with you. She had planned every detail down to the color of the paint, but when it came time to do the actual painting, she wanted nothing more than to do it herself.

"I know, but we don't even know if our baby will like water or animals..." You reached into your lap to open a bag of chips. "What if they hate all this ocean stuff?"

"If our baby hates all of this ocean stuff, then we'll just paint over it," Natasha lowered her paintbrush to glance back at you. "When did you become such a pessimist?"

"It's called being realistic."

Natasha huffed and dipped the roller in the pan, then continued her work.

"You're supposed to be relaxing."

"I can't relax when I have paint splattered all over my clothes," You gestured to the splotches of green and blue across your sweatshirt. "I'll never get these stains out."

Natasha glanced over her shoulder at you and smiled softly.

"Well, if you remove your clothes, I promise I'll be gentle."

"You're a dork," You chuckled. "And I'm not stripping in front of the baby."

"The baby's not even born yet."

"Still."

"Fine, then how about I strip for you," Natasha wiggled her hips and hummed playfully. "How's that for relaxation?"

"Tempting, but maybe you should finish the wall before we do anything else," You said. You looked down at the sweater to tug it over your belly. It seemed a bit tight these days. "Do you think I'm getting too big for this?"

"Your shirt?"

"Yeah, I mean... I feel like my stomach is stretching the fabric."

"Hmmm," Natasha mused. "Well, I'd say it looks pretty good."

"Good?"

"Perfect," She smiled to herself. "Absolutely perfect."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Of course."

"You're not lying to me right?" You tilted your head.

"When have I ever lied to you, Y/n?"

"A bunch of times actually," You raised a brow. "I was your superior."

"That doesn't count. Besides, it's my job."

"Your job is to tell me the truth," You sighed. "Do my boobs look too huge?"

"What? No!" She turned on the stool, her brows furrowed in confusion.

"But I've grown a size," You frowned, running a hand over your breasts. "You should be telling me to cover up."

"Are you crazy?" She asked, her eyes wide. "Y/n, you're carrying our child; I think you're allowed to dress comfortably. Also, I'm not complaining about your breast size."

"Yeah, but—"

"Listen," She set the paint roller down and stepped off the stool, "You're beautiful. Okay? And your tits are a part of that. You know, they're like an extra gift from the universe."

"Extra gift?"

"Like I'm already grateful for our baby," She said. "But then, your boobs get bigger, and, you know, I'm a very appreciative person."

"You won't be able to touch them for a while," You reminded her.

"I'm willing to wait."

"And I'm going to have stretch marks."

"So?"

"And my stomach will look weird and puffy," You sighed. "I mean, it's not going to go away."

"I don't care," she said. "Y/n, none of that matters. You're giving us a baby."

You were about to make a joke about how much it would probably hurt to push something the size of a melon out of your vagina, but when you saw the look in her eyes, your smile faded. She was so earnest, and suddenly, you felt guilty for not appreciating everything she was saying.

"Sorry," You said.

"For what?"

"Not listening to you," You shrugged.

"Don't apologize," Natasha walked toward you, then knelt beside your spot on the pillows. "I get it. There are days when I feel like I'm losing my mind. But, no matter what, you'll always be my favorite thing to look at."

"Nat," You grinned.

"Seriously," She smiled back. "And I'm gonna tell you that every single day until the end of time."

"Well, you'll be busy painting."

"Then, I'll paint it on the wall," She winked.

"God, I love you," You murmured, leaning forward to kiss her.

"Love you too," She replied, her breath warm against your lips. "Both of you."

"Now, go back to painting before you ruin it." You gestured. "I can kind of see the vision for the whale."

"See? That's what I'm talking about. I'm making art."

"Do you mind taking a breath to come rub this on my belly?" You gestured to the container of cocoa butter next to you.

"Of course," Natasha grabbed the tube, and unscrewed the cap. Then, she squeezed a generous amount onto her palm and set the bottle aside.

"You know," She began, "what you said earlier. I hope you don't believe that about yourself. That I won't find you attractive."

"No, I don't, not really," You shrugged. "It's just hard sometimes. My brain goes all crazy and my hormones are making me all weepy. But, I have you. And, you're not going anywhere, right?"

"Of course not."

"Good," You murmured. "'Cause I don't think I'd last long without you."

"Don't say that," She said, her voice quiet.

"Sorry."

"Stop apologizing," She scolded. "You'll be fine. I'll be fine. Everything will be fine. Now, can we focus on the positive? Like, for example, the fact that you're pregnant."

"I am pregnant."

"You are." She rested her hands on your belly. She began to rub the cocoa butter in circular motions against your skin. "You look so good like this."

"Really?"

"Yeah," She smiled, looking down at her hands pressing against the curve of your abdomen. She was so gentle with the bump. "This is exactly what I always imagined."

"What did you imagine?"

"A cute wife who was carrying my child," She smirked. "I guess I've always had a fantasy about having a family of my own."

"Well, you're living the dream." You grinned at her. For a second there wasn't much talking until you felt a slight movement inside of you. "She's awake."

"Really?" Natasha looked down.

"Yeah," You said. "Can you feel her?"

"Um, well," Natasha hesitated. "I mean, not really."

"Here," You reached down and took her hand, guiding it a bit further up your belly. "There. Do you feel that?"

"I—" Natasha paused, and then, she felt it, a faint movement against her hand. "Yeah?"

"Whenever you're near she gets to moving," You point out. "I think she recognizes your voice already."

A soft, surprised laugh escaped Natasha’s lips as she watched her hand rest against your belly, her expression melting into something softer than usual. She didn't pull her hand away. Instead, she let it linger, her thumb tracing circles on your skin.

"I think she’s already got me wrapped around her finger," she murmured, her voice full of affection and wonder. "Just like her mother."

"That's how it starts."

"Oh, is that a warning?"

"Yes."

"I wouldn't have it any other way." She leaned forward to kiss your belly. Then, she rested her cheek against your skin. "I couldn't be any happier than in this moment."

"That's good," You brushed her hair from her forehead, stroking her scalp gently. "But, just so you know, when I'm back on my feet, I'm kicking your ass for making me paint a sea turtle."

"Hey," she said, her tone playful. "You're the one who agreed to help."

"I regret everything."

[takumiraine]

Once Upon A Time chapter 4

<first> <prev> <next>

Danny should avoid him, because of his father. Danny should just brush him off and let him drown. Danny should keep his distance from anyone and everyone, but especially him.

Danny was never the best at doing what he should do, and worse, he was hungry.

—-

The cafe on campus was quaint, filled with light chatter and Jason was hating every second of it. Danny showed up just as he said he would, which meant he met Jason there, the man having already taken a back corner table for them. Danny walked up and set his books down. Jason had to wonder, did the kid not have a backpack?

“Any idea what you want?” Jason asked instead, standing. Danny looked over to the menu, eyes skimming it over.

“Uh… burger and fries okay?” Danny seemed uncomfortable. Jason would feel bad if it didn’t put him at the tactical advantage.

Jason nodded at his request. “The works?”

“Please.” Danny bit his lip and Jason waited, while he worked up the nerve for something, “and a coffee? Black?” Was that it? Jason almost rolled his eyes.

“Sure thing.” Jason went off to place the order and leave a hefty tip, because one, he wanted someone to bring it out and two he wasn’t that kind of asshole. He came back and sat on the chair he had been occupying, back to the corner, and resisted the urge to spread out.

Jason the Red Hood man-spreaded, Jason Todd-Wayne did not.

So he sat. And he rested his forearms on the table. “You do not need to look so nervous Danny.” Jason tried for the patented Wayne smile, certain he was coming up short.

“Huh…?” Danny turned to look at him, “oh, sorry. Long day.” The young man raked his fingers through his hair, pushing it away from his face. Jason knew it was a lie, but it seemed a familiar one. Danny tried to position himself so he could have the most visibility while drawing the least attention to himself. The position of a man hunted or used to being ambushed.

Danny refocused his attention after a moment, and looked at Jason, tilting his head slightly. “I hope it wasn’t a drain on your day to wait for me.” Jason waved his hand in response, the perfect practiced rich-bitch wave he hated.

“Nah, my friend works in the library on days when she doesn’t have class. I bothered her.” Danny seemed to relax a bit at the words.

“Oh good. I know I’m like… doing this for you, but…”

Jason cut him off there, turning the train of thought. “Speaking of, have you thought about what you want to be paid?”

“Oh… uh… not really. Most campus jobs make minimum wage right? Is that cool?” Jason wanted to throw Tim at this guy to teach him business sense in negotiation. If he really was 19, what had happened his whole life to make him feel like he needed to be invisible, while also walking away with a literal knife to the stomach and show up to class the next day?

“Most campus jobs do make minimum wage,” Jason agreed, “but nobody in my family is in the habit of paying just that. Just because I think my father is…. Well, words not fit for the polite company he insists I keep, doesn’t mean I’m going to stiff someone out of a well earned wage just to spite him. Twenty an hour is the lowest I’ll go.” He grinned now, all teeth, and something in him got a sick little thrill at watching Danny go even paler at the amount of money.

“Are you sure?” Danny asked, as their food and drinks were brought to them on a brown plastic tray.

“Say yes Dan. It’s a good deal.” Jason offered his hand to shake over the food.

Danny looked like he was offering his soul to the devil as Jason heard the man’s stomach rumble. “Okay. Yes.” Danny took his hand, and while the hand was ice cold, Danny shook with a surprisingly firm grip. Maybe the kid had a spine after all.

“Good. Now dig in,” Jason said after they parted. He picked up a fry off of his own plate and bit it, watching Danny with a sort of idle curiosity, as the boy - no, young man, went about his food with a carefully controlled gusto. Jason couldn’t help but wonder when the last time Danny ate was. He made a mental note to have Oracle check where he lived so he could do some recon later.

By the time dinner was finished, Danny seemed much more alive. His skin seemed to have better color, his eyes seemed more bright, and his energy was up. The kid was definitely going hungry if those changes were so immediate. Since Danny was scrawny, he assumed it wasn’t a new problem.

“So what makes math so difficult for you?” He asked, wiping his mouth and tilting his head. The question was blunt, but there was no open malice behind those bright blue eyes. The same kind of blue as his own when he wasn’t pit mad.

Jason shrugged. “Not really sure. It’s always been my weakest subject.” Not a lie. “Beyond money, my brain doesn’t seem to care.” Half a lie, but plays into the rags to rich bitch stereotype.

“I get that. I told you about me and literature right? For me it seems like there’s poetry in the way the math just… works.” Danny paused then, skin flushing red. “Sorry, that was…. Really stupid.”

In another life, Jason would have really liked this kid he thinks.

“No, not at all. Whoever told you your insights weren’t good obviously never stopped to listen to you.” Was he flirting? Should he be flirting? He flirted to maintain a cover or gain intel all the time. That’s all this was.

He almost missed the way Danny’s skin flushed deeper, from his ears down his neck. Almost.

“Well…. You’re in the minority then.” It came out a little bitter. He watched Danny take a breath and “Anyways.” Danny waved a hand, banishing the thought and something serious took over his expression instead. “I’m not going to take it easy on you just because you’re paying me. I expect you to put in the work too.”

Jason was right, the guy did have a spine. “Sure thing.” He waved his hand and stood, grabbing his bag and the tray. Danny stood and grabbed his books too. “Library?”

“Library.” Danny agreed.

Over the next week Jason was “surprised” to find out that they had three classes together. Math, Lit and Comp and History. All three remedial, and really the only one that Danny seemed borderline to deserve was the Introduction to Literature and Composition course. What he was genuinely surprised to find was that he enjoyed spending the combined nine hours of classes a week with the kid. Although in ‘basic mathematic principles’ Danny was quiet and allowed Jason to focus so they could work on their tutoring more effectively, in their history and English classes Danny was witty and sarcastic. A second thing he had noticed was that now that the tutoring sessions were happening, an hour, sometimes more, after every class, to make sure he ‘got it’, Danny was almost always eating.

Jason had learned that Danny’s ‘big life goal’ was a roof over his head, where his friends and family could visit or stay as they liked and room to tinker. A job that let him help people.

It was that information that made Jason fully convinced that even though he hated the Justice League with a viciousness that most rogues would balk at, for reasons he had yet to disclose, Danny was not really likely to become a rogue unless something big happened.

He should stop the college charade now. It was no longer needed for recon, and the other birds were starting to get suspicious. Bruce was looking at him differently too now. Something like how he used to.

A pen tapped on his notebook and Jason brought his attention back. Danny didn’t say anything, or even look at him, he was too busy sketching what looked like a circuit board in a secondary notebook. Jason quickly wrote down the notes before the slide changed, not looking forward to a disappointed look from his tutor.

Surprisingly, he ran into Danny as Red Hood once more that week. He was doing surveillance on a rooftop, when a sound caught his attention from the fire escape. Jason dipped back into the shadows and around the concrete and brick entrance from inside the building as a familiar mass of unruly black hair appeared and Danny hauled himself up with a surprising amount of finesse for someone who didn’t look muscular in the slightest.

“Damn it. Where’d you go guy? I thought I saw you land here.” Danny grumbled to himself, hands on his hips as he looked around “stupid not a bat disappearing just like the real ones…” While Jason was certain that he wasn’t meant to hear that, he finished his route and appeared almost behind Danny.

“What do you need?” He asked, thankful for the voice modulator as he knew Danny would have recognized his voice by now even if muffled by a helmet.

As it was, Danny startled with a yelp, swinging around and aiming a punch right for his solar plexus. Jason caught his wrist with practiced ease. “Fuck! Don’t scare a guy like that!” Danny yanked his arm back in a way that was meant to break unpracticed holds. Clever.

Jason waited while the kid caught his breath. “Well?”

“What? Oh. Uh. The guy. That…” Danny mimed the stabbing. “Is he okay?”

“Checked himself into the hospital about two hours later. He’s fine.” Oracle’s voice sounded in his ear. He nodded.

“Good, good…” Danny pushed his hair out of his eyes again, looking up at Jason through his helmet. Jason was hit with the disconcerting thought that somehow Danny was seeing through the bullet resistant one way visor. “Um… do you need the knife back? Or…. Should I….keep….it….? Or dump it? What’s…. I don’t know the protocol here, but I think ‘hey officer I was stabbed with this knife and the not-a-bat down in Crime Alley beat him up and then I accidentally stole it’ is a bad one.”

Jason snorted at the rambling, while Oracle laughed in his ear. “Even static filled he seems hilarious. I know why you like him.” He was going to kill Babs next time he saw her. “Knowing what he looks like doesn’t hurt either.”

“I can take it for you.” Jason said instead.

“Great! Wait here.” Danny turned and hopped back over the edge of the fire escape with the ease of someone who had years of training or practice.

“Is he like this all the time?” Babs asked, and Jason shrugged.

“Off and on.” Jason answered, sliding back down the fire escape completely silently as opposed to the obnoxious clatter Danny had made. He had seen and heard Danny move silently, like in the library, even on those creaky metal ladders for the top of the stacks, but he just assumed this was some sort of half assed survival mechanism.

Danny appeared again a few minutes later, with the knife wrapped in a towel in a bag. “I didn’t know how you wanted it so…” like Danny was bringing him coffee or ordering a pizza. Jason opened the bag and took the knife out, examining it.

“Good job kid. Now go home. It’s late.” It was barely ten. But he knew the Alley got more dangerous the later it got.

“Yeah. Okay.” Danny turned.

“Red Hood.”

Danny turned back. “What?”

“My name. Not-a-Bat isn’t as effective at striking fear into the enemy.”

Danny scoffed some. “I don’t need to use you as a shield.”

Jason held up the knife. Danny crossed his arms. “that was under control.”

“Right.”

“It was.”

Jason shook his head and pulled out his grapnel, firing it into the distance. As he swung off he had more questions about Danny than he was sure he would ever have answers.

[bosbas]

Chapter 1: I said, "dancin' is a dangerous game"

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: anthony bridgerton x fem!reader WC: 2.5k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, lowkey why do i ship daphne and y/n....

Summary: At her wit's end after Anthony's multiple attempts to scare away her suitors, Daphne employs her best friend's help to keep her brother distracted while she tries to find a husband. It's a foolproof plan, except it ends up working a little too well. (or, a Bridgerton version of The Taming of the Shrew/10 things I hate about you)

May 13, 1812 - You were in Hyde Park less than ten minutes before you saw Daphne Bridgerton's figure out of the corner of your eye. Delighted that she'd joined you earlier than expected, you waved her over.

"Hello, Daph," you greeted cheerfully, scooting over so your best friend could sit beside you on the bench. "I didn't think I'd see you for a few hours, given how many gentlemen asked you to dance last night. Did none of them call?"

Daphne groaned, a scowl set deep on her face, as she took a piece of bread from your basket and broke it into chunks to feed the ducks.

"Don't remind me. Most of them called, actually," she responded. "If only Anthony had let me have three seconds with them I might have been able to discern whether or not I was actually interested. He barged into the sunroom and promptly kicked everyone out. There was not a single suitor left in the room by the time he'd finished!"

You snorted. "Ah, so the overbearing eldest brother is once again to blame."

"Isn't he always?" she responded, too annoyed to match the lightness in your tone.

You just smiled to yourself and fed the ducks silently, knowing Daphne well enough to hide your smile from her, given that she was more than likely fuming at Anthony's constant meddling. You knew he meant well, but he was known to go a bit overboard at times. Well, most times. Especially when it came to Daphne's courtships.

"Anthony's the biggest rake in Mayfair, anyway. I don't know exactly what moral high ground he thinks he's standing on but it's certainly not as sturdy as he assumes," continued Daphne, still upset over that morning's happenings.

"Is it really that bad, Daph?" you said in an attempt to console her. "At least you're not getting hordes of unpleasant men at your doorstep every day. And you know the kinds of men that frequent the ton aren't always the kind you'd want to spend your afternoons with."

"I'm not getting any men at my doorstep! That's the problem!" exclaimed Daphne, exasperated. "I know you might not share the same desires as me, but I would eventually like to get married and have a family."

"I want to find a husband, too," you insisted, your tone bordering on defensive. "I just don't particularly feel bothered to look for one during my first season."

Daphne sobered immediately, coming out of her annoyance toward her brother as she could sense you were upset. "I didn't mean it like that, I swear," she insisted, placing a hand on your shoulder and looking into your eyes. "It was just-"

"I understand," you smiled at her, placing your hand over hers. "I just don't have the same urgency as you do, on account of my father having absolutely no stake in my marital status. No stake in anything about me at all, actually."

It would be a sad sentiment if you weren't used to it. You were an only child, and your mother had died after getting ill when you were only five years old. Your father, of course, was quite busy with the land he managed, and thus most of your upbringing had just been you and your governess. And the Bridgertons, of course.

You had met Daphne when she was eight and you were seven, and the two of you had gotten along splendidly since then. Since you had no real family of your own, bar your absent father, you spent copious amounts of time at the Bridgerton residence at Daphne's insistence. You now found yourself to be a semi-permanent fixture in their house, feeling just as home there as you did at your father's home.

This proximity to the Bridgertons had made you intimately familiar with Anthony's overprotective demeanor. Ever since you and Daphne were young, Anthony had gone out of his way to make sure that his siblings were cared for. Sometimes that included you, too. But unfortunately, he could take it too far sometimes.

"Did you like anyone last night, at least? Your dress was quite magnificent and I know I'm not the only one who noticed," you winked at Daphne.

She hummed thoughtfully. "I don't entirely know. I don't think one dance is enough to know whether I truly like someone," she responded, slumping down on the bench.

"Especially not when Anthony cuts the dance short halfway through," you laughed, recalling the eldest Bridgerton's attempts to thwart Daphne's search for a husband.

But your comment did nothing to lighten the mood. Instead, it seemed to make your friend even more irritated.

"It's my second year out in society! I still don't have a husband. Not even close to it, apparently," continued Daphne, aggressively tossing bits of bread into the pond.

"Well, you have to marry eventually. Anthony can't keep you away from every man for the rest of your life!" you argued.

But this did little to quell Daphne's annoyance. "He's certainly trying," she muttered.

"We can ship him off to the West Indies for the season," you joked. "Surely he won't be able to interrupt your suitors from halfway across the globe."

Suddenly, Daphne raised her eyebrows, looking at you with a devious smile.

"I was only joking! We can't actually ship him away," you laughed. "Besides, how would the ladies of the ton ever survive without the most desirable bachelor who is always just out of reach?"

Daphne snorted, amused at your dig at Anthony. "No, no, we don't have to ship him away," she said. "But you are correct in saying that I need time away from him to fully explore potential matches."

You hummed in agreement, imagining how much easier life would be for Daphne if her older brother simply... let her be. "Is he going on a hunting trip soon?" you said hopefully.

Your best friend shook her head, still smiling at you like she was plotting something.

"What is it?" you pressed, laughing at her expression.

"Can I ask you a favor?" she said, an expectant look in her eyes.

“Yes, I’ll kill Anthony for you. I’ve only been waiting for you to ask,” you joked.

“No,” Daphne laughed. “I’m serious.”

“Go on then,” you nodded.

“Could you ask him to dance at tomorrow’s ball?”

“Me? Ask him? Are you out of your mind?” you sputtered. You had never danced with Anthony at a ball, and you couldn't fathom the first time you did so being after you were the one to ask him.

“Y/N, please. I can’t just rely on forlorn glances across the ballroom to secure suitors. I need to actually speak with them, and I won’t be able to if Anthony keeps... hovering.”

Granted, hovering was a very generous word for what Anthony was really doing. But still, you looked at her, uncertainty in your eyes. You weren’t particularly keen on asking Anthony to dance, knowing he was famously opposed to marriage at this point in his life. Yes, you had grown up around him, but that didn’t mean he was interested in you at all, and you didn’t want to face that rejection if you could avoid it.

“Don’t give me that look! I promise it’ll work,” cried Daphne, desperate. “Just tell him you feel like dancing but don’t want to give another man the wrong impression since it’s only your first season and you’re still biding your time. Most of which is true.”

She made a good point. You didn’t want the hordes of men that seemed to flock to Daphne just yet. And would one dance really hurt that much?

---

The music in the ballroom pleasantly surrounded you as you stood next to Violet. Daphne had left to dance with Lord Wilson, a bachelor of very distinguished background who seemed to be hanging onto every word your best friend said.

Just as you turned to Violet to comment on how well-suited the pair looked, Anthony stormed over to where you were standing.

"It's unbelievable that she's even giving him the time of day," he said lowly, looking wholly unimpressed by the dance happening a few feet in front of him.

You could feel Anthony growing tense beside you as the seconds ticked by, and you bit the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. Three seconds of his sister speaking with a man and he was ready to explode already? He was worse than you thought.

You saw Daphne lean back as she laughed at something the gentleman said, and you knew you had to act fast before Anthony intervened.

“Oh, the music is wonderful tonight! Anthony, would you care for a dance?”

He tore his gaze away from his sister and looked at you, perplexed.

“Are you asking me to dance?”

“I believe I am, Anthony,” you said.

He scoffed, not quite believing you. “That is not very proper of you, Lady L/N.”

“And you are a great authority on propriety, I presume?" you said, a playful edge to your voice. "Given your… adventures as a rake, surely you have a better idea of what is proper than I do.”

Anthony choked at your bold choice of words, not used to people calling him out so publicly. “Y/N! Why do you want to dance with me then, if I'm such a rake?”

You rolled your eyes. “I just enjoy the music and want to dance. And I don’t want to give any other men the wrong impression,” you recited exactly what Daphne had told you to say.

He nodded reluctantly and took your hand. “Very well. One dance, then. I don’t want anyone getting the wrong impression of me either.”

This was the last time you ever did anything for Daphne. God, how difficult could one man be?

But all of your annoyance faded away once he placed his hand on your hip and spun you around. This was rather nice, you found yourself thinking. You hadn't properly danced at a ball yet, and you couldn't help but think that you'd missed out on a rather enjoyable activity.

The dance was going along quite smoothly, and you and Anthony seemed to be melting together, no longer two individuals but instead moving more like one entity. You were especially enjoying whenever his grip shifted slightly and his hand ran across the small of your back. To be truthful, you were simply having fun.

That is until you felt Anthony shifting you across the dance floor so you could get nearer to Daphne and the gentleman she was dancing with. Feeling Anthony's shoulders tense underneath your gingerly placed hands, you looked up at him.

Looking into his eyes, you raised your eyebrows. "She's fine, you know. You don't have to watch over her every second of every ball."

Anthony rolled his eyes, dismissing your comment. "Of course I do. She's my sister! I have to take care of her. I would never forgive myself if anything happened to her or if she ended up betrothed to a dolt."

"Anthony," you softened your tone. "It's quite alright. It's not all up to you. You've got an entire family to keep her safe. And me, of course."

You could feel his muscles relax under your hands. "Thank you," he breathed out. "I know all of that to be true. I just worry about her. And about you! But luckily there aren't many suitors of yours to scare off."

"Oh," you said, your voice squeakier than you intended. "Thank you?" you questioned. You weren't quite sure how to take his comment.

"No!" he rushed out, immediately realizing what his words sounded like. "I didn't mean it like that. Daphne had just mentioned that you're not as interested in finding someone right now since it's your first season. And I hadn't really seen you dance with anyone at one of these balls before. And-"

"It's no trouble, Anthony," you smiled, giggling at how flustered he'd gotten. "I appreciate the concern nonetheless."

He shook his head, still not believing that he'd been so rude toward you. As much as you were a familiar face around his home, he couldn't quite tease you the way he did Daphne or any of his other sisters, and he was dreadfully embarrassed that he had made you upset, even if just for a moment.

"If you ever want to dance again, just come to me, understood?" he said, his voice turning serious. "I don't need another one of you to worry about."

You could barely contain your laughter as the music came to an end. "Yes, Anthony," you said dutifully, smiling at how silly he was being.

Looking over at Daphne, you were pleased to see that everything had gone to plan and she'd had the chance to talk to Lord Wilson the entire time you'd been with her brother. It was a relief that she'd finally gotten a normal courting experience.

Before Anthony could reach her and wrench her away from her suitor, Daphne rushed over to you, grabbing your arm excitedly.

"Shall we take a turn about the ballroom?" she suggested, leaving you no room to protest as she led you away from her mother and brother.

You laughed at her excitement, glad that your best friend was finally enjoying herself.

"Thank you so much, Y/N, truly," she gushed, squeezing your arm affectionately. "That was absolutely incredible. It's the longest time I've been able to spend with a potential match without Anthony hanging over my shoulder."

"I'm happy to do it," you said amusedly. "He was that lovely, then?"

"Oh, absolutely not," she shook her head. "Lord Wilson was dreadfully boring. But at least now I know! And I don't have to pine over him or wonder what he would be like. I know for certain I'm not interested, and I can focus on finding my true love match."

"That's wonderful, Daph," you laughed. You truly held so much affection for her. It was endearing to see her so excited over spending time with a man she didn't even like.

Suddenly, Daphne slowed her pace. Turning you around, she held both of your hands and took a deep breath. "Yes, it was. Which is why I must ask you to dance with Anthony tomorrow night as well."

"What do you mean? Ask him to dance again? I thought this was only for tonight," you sounded unconvinced. Asking her brother to dance one time had already been enough of a hassle, but having to pretend to need him to dance with you once more was looking like an insurmountable challenge.

"Please, Y/N," she begged. "It's the only way I'll find a husband that isn't someone like Nigel Berbrooke," she added, whispering the last part.

It was true, Anthony seemed to have impossibly high standards that only the most unpleasant bachelor in Mayfair seemed to be able to meet. If you could do anything to protect Daphne from that unpleasant fate, you would do it.

"I suppose I could try tomorrow night. Though I can't promise he'll want to dance with me again. Anthony seemed quite reluctant tonight," you conceded.

"Nonsense," said Daphne, rolling her eyes. "Anthony loves you dearly, I can't imagine he'd ever turn you down."

"Whatever you say," you responded, unconvinced but unwilling to dampen your best friend's chipper mood. Besides, you had a wonderful time with Anthony tonight. How could another dance possibly go wrong?

—

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[wethotcrazy]

THE GOLDEN LOTUS

pairing: Ollie Bearman x Reader

word count: 864

university au!! i just wanted something cute and sweet and i think i really cooked with this one. also thinking of maybe making this into a series or having other uni au's for other drivers, what do you guys think???

Ollie Bearman wasn’t one for change. Predictability was his sanctuary, a warm cocoon that he didn’t much like leaving. His life ran on routine: lectures, workouts, and pasta dinners in his dorm room. But predictability took a nosedive the day he stumbled into the Golden Lotus.

It was a small Chinese restaurant tucked between a laundromat and a charity shop, a little worn but radiating charm. Ollie’s first visit was born of desperation—he’d forgotten to do a food shop, and the Golden Lotus was cheap, convenient, and smelled amazing. He didn’t even like Chinese food that much, but the portion sizes? Enormous. Enough to feed a starving uni student for two days, if he rationed it right.

The food, however, quickly became secondary.

The real reason Ollie found himself at the Golden Lotus every Tuesday and Thursday night was the girl behind the counter. YN.

She was a computer science major with a sharp wit and a smile that felt like a reward when Ollie managed to coax it out of her. YN worked the evening shift, her laptop often open beside the register as she chipped away at coursework between filling takeout orders. She lived in the apartment above the restaurant, earning a rent discount by working their… or so he overheard.

At first, Ollie had been too shy to do much more than order his food, offer a polite smile, and retreat to his usual table. But YN had noticed him—how could she not? He was the only customer who regularly dined in. That was rare enough, but when someone started showing up twice a week like clockwork, well… she couldn’t help but be a little curious.

It had started innocently.

“You’re becoming a regular,” she’d said one night, sliding his order across the counter. Her tone was teasing but kind, and Ollie had stammered some excuse about the convenience. She’d laughed softly, and the sound stuck with him longer than it should have.

From that moment, their interactions had begun to stretch beyond the standard “Cash or card?” conversations. On slow nights, Ollie would linger, striking up tentative chats about coursework or whatever music was playing on the overhead speakers. He learned that YN hated group projects but loved building things—apps, websites, anything she could tinker with. She learned that Ollie was studying business but had a secret dream of running his own karting center someday, a nod to his childhood passion for motorsports.

It wasn’t long before they’d fallen into a quiet rhythm.

When YN wasn’t busy, she’d sit at a table with her laptop open, her brow furrowed as she debugged code or prepared for lectures. One evening, Ollie surprised her by setting his business textbook across from her.

“You don’t mind, do you?” he asked.

She blinked at him, caught off guard, then shrugged. “Sure, but I’m not sharing my Wi-Fi password.”

He grinned, and just like that, Ollie became a fixture of her workspace.

Mr. Zhou, however, was less enthused at first.

“That boy again?” he’d muttered one evening, poking his head out of the kitchen to see Ollie hunched over his notes. “Does he not have a home?”

“He’s harmless,” YN had assured him.

“Harmless or homeless?”

But Ollie grew on Mr. Zhou over time. The older man had caught him fixing a wobbly table one night, unprompted, and begrudgingly admitted the “straggler” wasn’t so bad.

By November, Ollie had started hanging around until closing. Not to pester YN—though he did enjoy the extra time with her—but because the restaurant had become a comfort to him, a little pocket of warmth in his otherwise hectic uni life. Sometimes, after locking up, YN would invite him upstairs to her flat. It was tiny, crammed with textbooks and a perpetually half-finished Lego sets, but Ollie loved it.

Their hangouts weren’t dates. Not officially, anyway. But Ollie couldn’t deny how much he looked forward to them. Whether they were watching a movie or playing video games, he felt at ease in her company.

The turning point came in mid-December, on a freezing morning when Ollie was walking to class with his flatmate, Kimi.

“So,” Kimi began, glancing at him with a sly smile, “how’s your girlfriend?”

“What?” Ollie nearly tripped over his own feet.

“You know, YN,” Kimi said, casually sipping his coffee. “You’re at that restaurant all the time. I just thought… you know?”

“She’s not my—” Ollie started, but the words died in his throat.

Because, truthfully, he didn’t hate the idea. In fact, the thought of YN as his girlfriend made his stomach flip in a way he hadn’t felt before.

That evening, as he sat at his usual table in the Golden Lotus, Ollie caught himself staring at YN while she worked. She was wiping down the counter, humming softly to herself, her hair falling loose from its tie. She glanced up and caught him looking.

“What?” she asked, a playful smile tugging at her lips.

“Nothing,” Ollie said quickly, feeling his cheeks heat.

But in that moment, he realized he didn’t want to keep playing it safe. Maybe it was time to take a chance.

Just as soon as he worked up the courage.

[put-me-through-the-wall]

All Bark, No Bite

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

BodyGuard!Simon "Ghost" Riley x rich girl!reader

Word count: 2.6k

Summary: Simon takes on a job that may be more than he bargained for.

Content warnings: This story contains elements of intoxication, sexual assault, and violence. If you are not in the headspace to consume this content please scroll on.

A/N: Hello folks, I am kinda getting back into the swing of things. While working on another story this idea popped into my head and I had to get it down while the creativity was flowing. Pumped this bad boy out in one day so if it seems rushed I apologize. I just wanted to get it done tonight before I have to go back to work. As usual let me know what you think. If y'all like it I may do a part two. Thank you so much for all the support! Love you guys!

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

At first Simon was irritated at such a small time job being given to someone with his expertise. Growing more resentful by the day as he prepares for his stay at your family's property. When he was offered a long term private security job he thought it would be more along the idea of escorting an important political figure or guarding an extremely dangerous weapon of mass destruction. He never thought he would see himself packing suits and nice shoes for a job.

He becomes a little less irritated when he is introduced to you. Seeing such a beautiful young woman greet him in the entryway of your dazzling family home he figures the next few months may not be so bad. Getting to watch a cute little thing like you all day stroll around the expansive acres of gardens and woodlands.

As he takes your delicate hand carefully in his own upon your first meeting. “Pleasure to meet you ma’am” making sure to use his best manners.

 You roll your eyes. "Why would I need a bodyguard?" you scoff to your father’s assistant, hardly bothering to make eye contact with Simon. 

Simon was taken aback by the rude attitude that mismatched with your sweet appearance. It is explained to you that now that you are going out on your own you need someone to make sure you're safe. After a huff you stomp off, thus beginning Simon’s first day. 

During your first night together he can see why he was requested for this job. As soon as the sun sets you're out the door without a word. Simon scrambles to catch up as you climb in the backseat of your private car. Slipping in just before the driver slams the door in his face.

"Oh my god, are you serious?" you look at him in shock. Scooting as far away from him as possible, pressing against the opposite car door, as if his very presence was an assault. "No way this is happening. You’re staying here,"

"Sorry ma'am. Just doin' my job," he firmly plants himself next to you and stares ahead. 

You huff and puff the whole drive to town. Complaining that he is going to ruin your night and scare away any man who approaches. Simon silently smiles under his mask at your bratty tone. 

When the car pulls up outside of a raging club you are quick to crawl over Simon's intruding frame and get out ahead of him. In your haste unintentionally flashing him a pretty view of your lace panties underneath your criminally short dress. 

You get a brisk pace once out of the vehicle, rushing past all the patrons and straight to the bouncer. Flashing him a smile and your ID he seems to already know you well and you walk past barely slowing down your pace.

The bounce is quick to halt Simon in his tracks though. Makes him stop to explain before reluctantly allowing him access.

When he step inside he is momentarily stunned by the pulsing colorful lights and pounding music. His height gives him an advantage as he scans the crowd of partygoers searching for you. You have managed to mix in with the sea of people while he was held up at the door. 

He pushes through to the bar, carelessly shoving away anyone in his path. Ignoring the excuse you's and angry swears tossed his way. He eventually finds you, sparkling in your rhinestone covered dress leaned provocatively against the bar trying to get the bartender's attention. He watches you bat your eyelashes and cross your arms under your breasts. Proudly showing off to anyone who would look your way. 

When you feel the large presence behind you, you look over your shoulder with flirty eyes until you realize who it is. "God, take a hint," you shout over the loud music. You turn back to the bar and bang your hand on the counter top, "Hey! can I please get a drink!" 

The bartender finally steps over. "What will it be tonight?" he greets you smugly with a knowing grin.

"Hm surprise me," you counter with a sweet smile.

He mixes a colorful drink and pours it into a martini glass before sliding it over to you. You hand over your gilded credit card, "Keep it open," you wink. You spin around while taking a sip of your drink, almost bumping into Simon.

"Look, if you're going to hang around all night you need to give me room to breathe at least." You shove your hand into his chest and push him away harshly. Though, frustratingly, he hardly budges. 

Simon suppresses the urge to grab your little wrist in his crushing grip and show you how to be respectful to others. Instead he stares down at you refusing to break your annoyed stare. He can tell you're used to people shrinking away under your gaze.

You quirk in an eyebrow and humorlessly chuckle before breezing past him and onto the dance floor. You maneuver into the crowd up towards the DJ. Simon keeps his distance for now allowing you to dance freely under his watchful eye. He finds a high table in an unlit corner of the club at the edge of the crowd. 

You move to the pulse of the music. Swaying your hips loosely, the jewels of your dress reflecting the passing lights. You spin and twist like a human embodiment of a disco ball in the center of the dance floor. Your free hand trails down your body sensually as you mouth the words to the song playing. You are carefree as you sip your drink quickly extinguishing its contents. 

It's not long until a stranger approaches you from behind. Both hands coming around you to pull your hips into them. You smile and move along with them. The man ducks his head down and whispers into your ear causing you to giggle. 

Simon hates watching this stranger run his hands along your perfect body. Smelling your perfume and touching your hot, soft skin. He knows the stranger only wants you for one reason and it angers him to watch. Simon feels a fury building inside of him but he stays put, not wanting to make a scene just yet. Waiting to see how far the exchange will go. 

The man's hand slides up your waist,  brushing the underside of your breasts. You don't seem to mind as you continue dancing, closing your eyes and bringing one of your hands up to hold onto the back of his neck and running your fingers through his hair. 

After a few songs together and several more drinks the man is now kissing up your neck and fully groping your body. The movements are growing more heated by the second. He whispers in your ear again and you bite your lip in response. You look through the crowd until through the wall bobbing heads your eyes find Simon's through the busy crowd. Your playful smile drops when he raises his hand to wave at you letting you know he is still here and still watching, much to your discontent. 

You spin around to meet the stranger face to face. Your movements have become sloppy and uncoordinated with the amount of alcohol in your system. You pull him down by his shirt so you can mumble in his ear once more. He smiles and grabs your hand quickly pulling you in the opposite direction. You nearly trip over your own feet following him. You look back at Simon and wave back sarcastically with a wink before disappearing in the crowd of dancing bodies. 

Simon makes a beeline towards you but by the time he breaks through the congestion of people you are nowhere in sight. He walks along the perimeter of the room not seeing you at the bar or sitting in the lounge area. He grows frantic in his search scanning for you but finding nothing. 

He find his way to a hazy corridor lit by strips of red lights along the ceiling. The walls lined with couples making out or smoking in the cramped passageway. He breaks apart a few offended couples to make sure it wasn't you. He can’t believe he agreed to do this shit. Chasing around a spoiled rich brat was not the job he signed up for. 

He reaches the exit door at the end of the hallway. He pushes through to reveal the dim city alleyway. Worn brick walls scattered with graffiti are lined with trash cans and dumpsters. He steps down from the stoop to the concrete ground littered with garbage. He looks back and forth, seeing no signs of life besides a few roaches scattering underneath an old can. He is about to head back inside for another look when a nearby noise catches his attention. 

He freezes in place until he hears more shuffling and soft mumblings. He steps quietly down the alley. Walking past one of the large dumpsters he locates the origin of the sounds. Finally finding you. You’re pressed against the side of the dumpster along with the stranger. 

The man's hand covers your mouth and his other freely roams your body, dipping underneath the hem of your dress. You whimper out weakly trying to push him off with no avail. Your unfocused eyes widen when you see Simon walking towards you. Your muffled protests grow more persistent as you plead for help. "I said shut up, bitch," the stranger hisses.

Simon’s brain short circuits at the sight before him. It all goes red. He wastes no time snatching up the back of man's jacket and yanking him off of you. Without the man holding you up, you fall back against the metal side of the dumpster. Weak legs unable to hold you up as you crumple to the dirty floor. 

Simon pushes the man to the other side of the alley and into the wall. Immediately bashing his shocked expression with several punches and he holds him in place by the collar. The man grunts out in pain with each hit, his cheekbone and eye socket swelling from the abuse almost instantly. 

"You like taking advantage of girls?" Simon questions dangerously. His voice came out as more of a growl before continuing his assault. “Piece o' shit. I’ll fucking kill you,”

In between punches the man attempts to put his hands up in dense, "I'm sorry man! I-I didn't know she was yours" the words quickly tumble from his bloody lips. 

Only infuriating Simon further he pulls his pistol from his concealed holster on his back. He grabs the side of the man's jaw harshly until his mouth is forced open. He shoves the barrel into the man's mouth. “I should blow your bloody brain out. That’s what I like. Killing sick fuck’s like you. Would you like that, mate?” He cocks his head in question. 

The man shakes his head urgently. Simon shoves the barrel further into his mouth, completely stretching the man's mouth open to fit the intruding cool steel. “It doesn’t feel good, does it? Being forced to take it, huh?” 

The man shakes his head again looking to be on the edge of tears. Simon removes the pistol from his mouth “I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Please don’t kill me” the man whimpers. Simon pulls the man off the wall and pushes him towards you, gun now pressed to the back of his head. 

“Don’t say sorry to me, say sorry to her” Simon demands

“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. I thought-” The man is cut off when Simon hits him in the back of the head with the handle of his pistol. 

“You thought nothin’. Just say you’re bloody sorry” He grits out. 

“I’m sorry” the man cries. 

Satisfied that the man has had enough punishment for now Simon reholsters his weapon and leans until he is only inches away from the man’s face. Simon’s crazed eyes darted across the man’s face. “If I ever see you again, you are dead. Yeah?” Simon's voice now scarily calm. The man nods frantically. Simon nods in return then shoves the man backwards. 

He falls back onto the dirty concrete ground roughly. He scrambles back up to his feet and bolts out of the alley way.  

Finally Simon turns his attention back to you. On your hands and knees sniffling as you gather several of your items that spilled out of your dropped purse. 

Simon quickly kneels down to meet you. "You alright?" you shake your head and look up to him pitifully. Your makeup is now smeared down your cheeks. Your hair hangs messily around your face. 

"He broke my purse," your words coming out slurred and whiney. 

Simon's heart pangs with sympathy as you hold up your sparkling purse to show its broken strap. 

"S' alright, we'll get you a new one," he gently takes your hands and brings you to your feet. He adjusts your dress for you, pulling down its hem to cover more of your exposed thighs and push your fallen strap back on your shoulder. As his hand brushes the exposed skin you shiver causing your skin to erupt into goosebumps. You hold your arms against your chest to combat the chilly evening air.

“He told me he just wanted to talk somewhere quieter. I-I didn’t even realize wha-” 

“Shh, S’ gonna be okay. You don’t need to explain. I know.” Simon takes off his large coat and puts it over your shoulders, pulling it tight around you so you are totally swallowed by its dense material.

"Can we go home?" you ask shakily.

"Course, ma'am" his hand comes around your shoulders to usher you out of the alley way. You wobble when you try to walk. Simon catches you as your legs start to buckle beneath you.

Without a second though Simon scoops you up in his strong arms. He is surprised at your lack of protest. You drop your head onto his shoulder as a few tears continue bleeding into the fabric of his shirt. You mumble watery apologies, half of the words lost as incoherent slurs.

"Don't need to apologize. Just doing my job, ma'am," Simon steps out to the road and sees your car parked and waiting just across the road. The driver hops out and opens the door for him. 

Simon carefully places you down on the seat before ducking into the car himself. When he sits you scoot closer and drop your head to lean on his bicep. Your arms wrap around his forearm, finger dancing across his skin tracing the veins down to his hand. You gasp when your blurry vision focuses on his bloody knuckles.

“Oh my god” you mumble.

“M’ alright ma’am. I’ve had much worse.” Simon reassures you. He looks down to see you already gazing up at him. Even with your disheveled appearance he can't help but think how effortlessly beautiful you are.

"You don't need to call me ma'am," you chuckle and rub your damp eyes, smudging your makeup further. 

"What would you like me to call you?" he asks. He brushes away a stand of hair in front of your eyes, tucking it behind your ear. 

"Don't know, what do I look like?" 

Simon takes a minute to ponder. He watches as the passing streetlights cast a fleeting light into the window of the backseat. The yellow beams illuminating across each rhinestone on your shimmering dress peeking out from underneath his jacket. Your diamond earrings and necklace frame your face, matching the rest of your glittering outfit. Simon thinks they are nothing compared to the sparkle in your big round eyes. Then he wonders when he becoming such a hopeless sap. He wonders if you will even remember this in the morning.

All that fuss and harsh words from you earlier now a distant memory as you lean against his side. You were wrapping around his arms in a vice. Legs curled up under you, one of your heels had fallen to the floor of the car. You look up at him expectantly still waiting for an answer. 

"You look like a princess,"

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

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[bunni-v1]

Hello! Can I request full nsfw alphabet with jade? Afab and fem reader too please. Thank you!

🍓Jade is done as well (YAYYY!!!!) You're one of like six people to ask for him, but you were the first so I chose you. You're welcome. Anyway this isn't edited, and I feel like this doesn't need to be said, but Jade is like nineteen here in accordance to my rules. Anyway have a good day love you all <3

Jade NSFW Alphabet!

A = Aftercare: Jade is, and there is no easy way to put this, very fucking strange. I’m not sure if it’s because he’s not from land (this hardly seems like an excuse, because Azul is fantastic with aftercare), but he is very weird about aftercare. Not in the fact that he doesn’t do it, nor that he doesn’t want to do it, he’s just… ritualistic about it. He has a routine set for it: First, he ensures any marks will be very visible on you – if they are not he will fix that. Don’t worry. Second, after you are nice and claimed, he will take you to his bathroom and make sure the two of you are nice and clean. He insists that you use his shampoo and body wash, and if you don’t he pouts in that creepy way he does until you give in. Finally, he grabs you a set of matching pajamas he bought specifically for when you stay over at his, and you two cuddle and talk before falling asleep. You have to talk though, he won’t have it if you don’t converse a little. It has to be just like that, or else he gets irritated and he will give you the silent treatment. He’s petty.

B = Body Part: Starting with himself, I imagine Jade finds his hands to be his best asset. His fingers are long and slim, and he takes very good care of them. Nails are trimmed short and usually painted a pretty teal, but all around, they are rather pretty. They are a little calloused on the tips from his hikes, but it’s hardly noticeable unless they're scraping over your sides. With you, though, Jade has a very hard time choosing. There’s just so much to like! It’s your ass, Jade likes your ass. It’s just a lovely little thing to him, soft and round and perfect for grabbing, especially around others. Copping a feel in front of Azul and hearing that little squeak is such a satisfying sensation.

C = Cum: I have a feeling a lot of my Jade takes may be controversial, and this may be one of them. I think a lot of people imagine he’s a clean freak, which he is, but like… he’s not a germaphobe or anything. He lives with Floyd. With that being said, uhm, Jade likes it messy <3 Like dripping down the legs, staining the sheets, drawing on your skin kinda messy. His cum is also really unique, because of his origins. It’s tinted like a blueish color, and it’s very thick. He doesn’t make you swallow it usually because it’s hard to get down and there’s a lot, always a lot. It’s also salty because he has a high salt content in his blood. (Yes. It glows.)

D = Dirty Secret: You’re not gonna like this one, I can tell you that now. Jade is an exhibitionist and does not care where he has sex, he just wants to have it when he wants it. (He’s spoiled rotten). He’d never fuck you in the busy rush hour at the monstro lounge, of course. The average customer shouldn’t even think about seeing you in such a vulnerable state. However, he wouldn’t mind if Floyd or Azul or some random person happened to stumble upon you in a storage closet. He doesn’t want them to join, because he’d 100% cut their hands off if they touched you, he just wants to… assert to them his relationship with you. Yeah, that’s all.

E = Experience: He doesn’t strike me as very experienced, or like the type to even seek out sex outside of a dedicated relationship. So you are most likely his first sexual and romantic partner, not that you can tell. He’s very attentive and exceptionally good at his job of pleasuring you. Even if he is bad, he’s a very quick learner, so he picks things up easily and fast for you.

F = Favorite Position: Jade likes control, so any position where he has full control over you and your body is heaven to him. He also likes to look at you, just to study your face and make you squirm under his gaze. So something like the valedictorian, where your legs are pinned out in a V, or pretty much anything where your legs are over his shoulder so you can’t squirm as much. Big fan of the prone bone for the same reasons, though he doesn’t like not seeing you.

G = Goofy: Jade isn’t… goofy, per se… but he doesn’t take sex super seriously. He finds sex to be amusing, especially human sex. Mer sex is different, less physical or intimate, so it's all new and exciting to him. He will absolutely chuckle and joke, but it’s always to tease you and make you all flustered. So yes? Kinda? Not really though.

H = Hair: We know Jade is well-groomed. He keeps it nice and short and shaved, just a little tuft of teal, mostly for asthetics. 

I = Intimacy: He’s not typically all that romantic during. Like I said before, sex is mostly a fun, interesting thing for him. Sure he likes you close and loves to watch your reactions but that's less of a romantic thing and more of a he’s a predator and you’re his prey thing. Still, he has his moments. Like when he’s about to cum he’ll press his forehead to yours (or to your back) and whisper out that he loves you so very much and that you’re so amazing for him.

J = Jack Off: Like… never. 1) He doesn’t have much of a sex drive to start. 2) He’s only ever turned on by something you do, maybe just the thought of you. 3) If he’s ever in a situation where he is turned on and you’re not around or you’re busy… well you won’t be separated for long! He just doesn’t like the act, unlike his brother, and especially doesn’t like wasting his ahem seed when it would do much better inside of you.

K = Kink: Okay so I’ve already established he’s a bit of an exhibitionist, but he’s also a voyeur. Like, please get yourself off while he watches you struggle and whine for him, it’s one of his favorite hobbies. He’s a sadist (obviously) and loves to see you squirm and uncomfortable (to the extent that you’re comfortable with, of course). He is also big into marking, no shit, he’s so possessive it would be insane if he wasn’t into marking you up. I’m gonna be honest, and again people may hate me for this, but he’s probably into Consensual Non-Consent so long as the two of you set up firm boundaries and safe words beforehand. (He’s a sadist, but he’d never fucking hurt his partner. His mama taught him better than that.)

L = Location: His favorite place is obviously his bedroom. Seeing you on his sheets is just a sight that cannot be beat. But other than that… anywhere with a little risk. Storage closets, the bathrooms, hell he’s even fucked you on Azul’s office couch. Pretty much down with any place so long as he can keep you nice and hidden if you do get caught. (Lord help the guy who gets a peek at you naked).

N = No: There’s not really anything Jade hasn’t thought of trying. One thing he ruled out very quickly, though, was sharing. He’s not a fan of sharing things, especially not things as cute and precious to him as you. So if you ever suggest it, he’ll probably kill the person you were considering bringing in.

O = Oral: He is big on receiving, sorry gang, he’s not big on giving. The sight of your lips wrapped around him, drool and cum dripping down your chin, it’s like a dream to our little freak. When he does give though, he’s pretty damn good. I mean, all it takes is one or two times and he’s got you down like a book. Be careful, though, he’s known to nip if you squirm too much.

P = Pace: Jade is pretty slow all things considered. While sex is fun for him, he loves making things slow and incredibly excruciating for you. Do you want to cum? Too bad, Jade’s adamant about slowly pulling out inch by inch just to slowly slide in the same. Sometimes, though, he’ll randomly swap to a bruising pace just to see how you react.

Q = Quickie: If it isn’t obvious by now, yes he’s into quickies. They’re not his favorite, okay, he likes to take his time… but if he wants sex he’s gonna get it, even if it has to be fast. Besides, the thrill of nearly being caught is enough to make the experience all worth it for him.

R = Risk: Duh. Yes, Jade loves risk-taking, and he’s willing to do anything (except share) once to see how you both like it. All you have to do is ask, talk it over, and then you’ll try and implement it. 

S = Stamina: Jade can go for a really long time, but once he cums he’s pretty much out of commission. He’s so good at self-control, but keeping himself from cumming takes a lot out of him, so once he does he can’t go again. Usually, the two of you have one really long round, then it’s all tending to each other and sweet words until you knock out.

T = Toys: He does! I don’t think he’s the biggest fan of them, but if he really wants to stretch things out he’s 100% bringing out his toys. They’re all designed to aid in pleasure, but not allow you to cum, and they’re all remote-controlled. He likes to stuff you with one and send you on your way so he can mess with you throughout the day.

U = Unfair: I don’t need to answer this. (See all of the above lol)

V = Volume: Jade is quiet, he doesn’t make much noise if any at all. He’d rather hear your voice, so he keeps himself to a minimum. You’ll hear a few sighs and purrs of pleasure, but that’s all you’ll get other than his comments about how cute you are under him.

W = Wild Card: He likes being marked up too, but he won’t tell anyone that. He doesn’t want anyone else to see the marks, because to him they’re his own little trophies of being a good partner, but he loves them.

X = X-Ray: Jade is average, about 5.8 inches flaccid and 6 inches hard. It’s really pretty though, pale like him and his tip is flushed a baby pink that could make you jealous. He’s thinner than most, and it doesn’t have many veins. 

Y = Yearning: His sex drive is actually rather low, there isn’t much that turns him on outside of you, and it’s rare that he gets turned on in the first place. Usually when you’re being particularly argumentative or cute, he starts feeling a little hot and bothered. Z = Zzz: He’s usually tired afterward, but like I said he needs his little chat. So he doesn’t fall asleep fast at all, usually able to keep himself up to take care of you and himself.

[lazyjellyfish300]

H-hey mootie

So it’s my birthday this week

So if you would make a blurb about drider!Miguel killing readers shitty husband then fucking her 🕷️

I would love it 🥺🥺🥺

Yes it’s Halloweeny that’s cause I didn’t have the energy to write it myself no matter the word count or format I know you can do it Justice!! Love ya!!

YES U CAN MY WONDERFUL MOOT. 🎉🎂 Dedicated to the amazing moot 🖤 HAPPY BIRTHDAY ILYYY 🕸️🕷️ @cullen-rutherford-wifey

Huge thanks to my moot adqui for the Spanish translation help, and to @politemenacephd for the inspiration and their flawless Drider!Miguel smut in Arachnophilia that helped me a ton with this fic. 🖤

can I be him

CW: MINORS DNI, X FEM!READER, MONSTERFUCKING, SMUT, P IN V, LOTS OF CUM, NIPPLE PLAY, LIGHT BONDAGE, SPIT, BREEDING, CREAMPIE, ANAL PLAY(idk if that's what it's called) EDGING, DRIDER!MIGUEL, ANGST, MUTUAL PINING, SLIGHTLY STALKER ISH BEHAVIOR, GRAPHIC BLOOD AND VIOLENCE, DOMESTIC DISPUTE, YOU HAVE A SHITTY HUSBAND, MURDER, INFIDELITY, A DARKER PIECE PLS PLSSSSS MIND THE WARNINGS.

Words 6.1k

Miguel shouldn't be doing this. But he can't help it. It was wrong to watch you like this. To want you like this. 

The warm glow cast by the screen floating in front of him softened his chiseled features as he gazed longingly at you through the portal of dimensions that kept you apart. 

A gorgeous, living variant of his own version of you that he could not save. The only one out of thousands he had come across. And believe that when he first lost you, his unfathomable grief kept him searching, scouring, waiting, hoping for months that there was one more universe out there where death didn't rip you away. 

And the first he discovered just had to be one where you belonged to someone else. 

Dated for almost five years now. Married for going on three. And the kicker was that bastard didn't even deserve you. 

The multiverse was cruel. In every other reality, tragedy irrevocably tainted the legacy of Miguel O'Hara. 

Always so close, and yet, never finding peace in any set of cards he was coldly dealt. 

In this particular dimension he was watching you from, he was a mutant with his top half being that of a man and the lower half, that of a spider. A large abdomen adorned in fuzzy black hair with eight enormous thick legs like a tarantula and venomous fangs, irises of bleeding crimson to match. He was a drider. A monster, as far as he was concerned. 

But there were times when he'd watch you that he'd allow himself to be crazy enough to dream that you could love someone like him.

At least in his mind he wasn't chained back by his fears and insecurities. At least for now in the sanctity of his office, your shitty husband didn't exist and you weren't lightyears away in an opposite plane of reality. You could be free to be all his, monstrous features be damned.

A version of you loved him once, would it really be all that far fetched to think you could possibly learn to love him again?

---

Another long day ended. You exhaled a weary sigh as you left the cold of late fall that was descending quickly into winter in the icy world behind you. Closing the door to your house that seldom felt like home these days. 

You supposed your life was okay, but still you wouldn't have chosen it had you known this feeling of monotony would haunt you everywhere you went.

From your job, to sometimes family, but most of all your marriage. Nearly all your life, you felt out of place, but never quite like this. You supposed it started as early as nine months into your relationship with your now husband. 

When he stopped buying flowers, when his texts became fewer, hours at work became longer, his patience shorter. You chalked it up to the unpredictable ebbs and flows of love.

"Love isn't perfect. Not all rainbows and butterflies," you were told time and time again. 

When your husband wanted to, he could be great. When he was bad, he could be exceptionally worse. But how could you be so sure? With practically nothing to compare it to, you supposed this was simply the path that was carved out for you. Mediocrity may be disappointing but passion alone couldn't keep a roof over your head. Stability was still a wiser thing to choose than comfortability. 

Even so, on the eve of your birthday, the empty spot next to you in bed that you slowly became accustomed to delivered that sharp reminder of just how lonely you really were. 

Tears fell and seeking solace, you shamelessly indulged and allowed your mind to visualize him. That mystery man from afar who haunted your dreams and took up permanent residence in your mind with his bewitching crimson eyes. Sometime around when you suspected the love your husband once had for you had all but ceased. 

You don't know why, but this being seemed to call for you, seemed to speak to you. To that forgotten part inside that for the life you couldn't explain why it remained empty.

It was almost like a cosmic bond to him, an adept yearning. An invisible lining etched into your very being that somehow recalled him in a different life. That gorgeous face without a name. 

Miguel. 

----

Miguel stirs awake, realizing he was a victim of sleep while watching you. His attention is called immediately to a growing spat between you and your husband. 

"I asked a simple fucking question, John. Where. were. you."

"And I GAVE YOU A SIMPLE FUCKING ANSWER. Don't. fucking. worry. about. it." 

Miguel sits up, high on alert, spider senses kicking in. Something about John's tone this time was highly unsettling. 

"You know what, I've lost count by now, John..." You flung your hands in the air, weary, defeated and broken down by the endless disappointment, tear soaked trails running from your eyes that hadn't stopped since last night. "But of all the days out of the year...you just couldn't keep it in your pants on my fucking birthday..." 

"Do you fucking hear yourself??" John screamed.  "Nobody said anything about cheating! Where in this entire conversation has there ever even a hint about cheating? I'll fucking tell you: NONE." He points an accusatory finger. "You brought this all on yourself, not me!" 

"It was Carla again, wasn't it." You nodded with a tearful sob, pacing around the living room.  "Carla, fucking, Carla..."

Maybe fixing these pillows could distract you from the agonizing realization that you were reliving the nightmare of John's infidelity. Going on three for three when you thought the first and second time he had learned enough. 

"I didn't sleep with goddamn Carla!!" John grabs a mug and hurls it at the wall. 

That's it. Miguel draws a portal immediately. His yearning had reached a breaking point, and this fight was all the push he needed to come to shove. Miguel O'Hara normally obeyed the rules, but this version of him was unlike the others. 

No rule was above being broken when it came to the lengths he would go for you. 

"Real fucking mature, John. What are you gonna do huh? Gonna hit me, choke me?? Maybe then you'll actually be half the man you think you are!" 

"Ohhh you fucking little..." 

But before the worst can happen, an otherworldly threat makes itself known with a random buzzing orange window opening, allowing an enormous half man, half spider through. 

You and your husband scream in horror, your conflict between you temporarily forgotten. 

"Shit shit SHITTTT!!! WHAT THE FUCK!! John what's happening??" 

"I don't fucking know..." John mumbles in disbelief, flinching as Miguel's long legs pound on the hardwood floor, echoing under his formidable size. His eyes appeared menacing, deeply laced with venomous dislike as he glowered at John, but seemed to soften, if not only for just a fleeting moment when they landed on you. 

"If...if we both don’t get out of this. I need to tell you something" John mumbles almost incoherently as your fingers dug into his arm. 

"W-what?" You turn to look at John, at this face that housed a soul inside it that you once knew but no longer recognized. Almost wordlessly appealing to whatever final shred of respect he had left inside for you as a last ditch effort to give you some semblance of the man you once loved. 

"I ruined everything. Your sister and I fucked. Just know, I'm sorry..."

And before you could even have a moment to compute that final godforsaken dagger he had the nerve to drive into your heart, he shoved you in the way of the monster like a piece of meat so he could save his cowardly ass. 

"JOHN!" the sound was wretched and broken. Devasted by betrayal. You shrieked in fear and brought your arms over your head, prepared to absorb whatever immense pain was about to wrack your whole body, praying frantically for a quick death. 

But, you gasped in alarm when no such fate arrived and Miguel charged headfirst at your fleeing coward of a husband, pinning him to a wall as nearby photographs came down with crash of splintering glass. 

His head hit the wall with a deafening crack, a dark pool of maroon beginning to leak from behind him and drip out of his nose. 

He yelled but the sound was quickly muffled as Miguel's calloused hands wrapped around his throat, a couple trails of blood oozing down his fist.  

"B-babe....aacghkk...please m'ergh sorry, I'm..." John tried to choke out, his teeth now coated in sheer red from where he bit his tongue, quiet trickles audible as the blood from his head seeped onto the floor underneath him.  

Miguel was only moments away from crushing his windpipe, but he untensed his jaw when he heard you trying to catch your breath on the floor. He turned, taking note of how helpless and fearful you looked. 

Though it would have given him immense pleasure to pull the plug, he had to think of you first. 

"Do you mind?" He merely asks, his eyes cold as his fingers tightened just a bit. 

"P-please..." John croaks. "Please...Babe..."

You're still reeling from anger that was slowly turning to anguish. As you looked at John, for the first time you felt nothing. It only took years and him nearly sacrificing you before himself for you to wake up and realize the sorry shell of a man he had turned into. 

"Goodbye, John." You uttered like venom and turned away as you heard the sickening crackle and then wet sound of choking blood as Miguel snapped John's neck in half. 

----

"You okay?" 

"Fine."

Miguel could tell you were lying. After swiftly disposing of the body in a different dimension and washing up, he had came back to discover you hadn't moved an inch from your spot on the floor. Your numbness kept you anchored, gazing into the haunting abyss of the blood spatter that remained on the wall. 

"Hey, easy now. " Miguel murmured as you finally began to stand up. 

"I can handle my own, thanks." 

"Of course, I mean..." He clears his throat, stomach uneasy when you became short with him. "Sorry."

You two sat opposite each other in the living room with you and on the couch and Miguel on the floor as that was the only space that could accommodate him. 

Sometime during the seemingly infinite silence, you realized all of this bullshit your now dead ex managed to put you through in his final hours on earth made you profoundly indifferent to the fact a literal drider broke into your home. 

"Who are you?" You ask at last. "And why didn't you kill me too?"

Miguel looks at you quickly, glad the empty silence was broken at last. "My name is Miguel." He looks down, shame in his expression. "And I, well.."

He doesn't think he should divulge all of his secrets yet. Surviving near death by drider and having your husband's cheating revealed shortly before his untimely death was more than enough burden to bear. 

"I'm not from around here." 

"I gathered that." Your eyes rake over his enormous form. You should be beside yourself. This man creature just killed your husband after all. But something about his voice was calming. Oddly soothing. Dare you say it was, rather attractive?

"So what are you, half spider?" 

For the first time, an inkling of amusement shows on his face. "What, did my eight legs give it away?" 

"Just a little." You hum, bringing your knees to your chest as you allowed yourself to relax. 

"You know, you're...eerily calm about all of this." 

"Heh...I know. Guess I kind of feel like I'm still asleep and I'm gonna wake up any minute." 

"Wanna test that theory?" Miguel quirks a brow. 

You pinch yourself while keeping your deadpan stare, holding it for a moment as if it would do anything. "Nope." 

"Wow." Miguel says sarcastically to which you can't help but snicker. "So, do weird occurrences like this happen to you often? Still doesn't explain why you're not completely hysterical about all this." 

"I watch the news." You shrug. "Crazy shit happens in New York all the time. What with Spider-Man being a thing and all. Just a step above normal, I'd say." 

"Ah." It made sense. Miguel should've known your dimension had its own spider. A little bit of relief washed over him. At least this made things a bit less messy on his end. He falls silent again, stealing little glances of you now and then. 

You were fucking ethereal in person. Being this close was something he only dreamed about. Now that it was happening in real time, he was wracking his mind desperately for ideas on how to drag it out as long as he could. 

"So if I may: how'd you become half spider?" You ask the hard question at last. 

Miguel raises his eyebrows, somewhat relieved you took the first leap. He proceeds to tell you about his lab accident, and how he became spliced with spider DNA.

He tells you about the multiverse, and how there are many versions of him out there with the same story, but his cursed him with the lower half of a mutant unlike most. 

"So, if there's a whole multiverse out there, are there multiple versions of myself too?" You lean your chin on your hand like a curious pupil. 

Miguel nods stiffly, trying to disguise the weight of the information he held. "Yeah. "

You go silent again, then you ask, "Did you know me in your own universe?"

Miguel's heart pangs subtly at the reminder. "Yeah, I did..." He looks away from you but you can't help but continue to stare at him. 

He really was so pleasant to look at. That brown, wavy hair that curled just slightly at the ends you could only imagine would run like silk between your fingers, eyes a hue of red that couldn't be replicated anywhere except the deep center of the rarest rose, lulling voice that dripped from those full lips. This formidableness about him that crumbled into gentleness only when it came to you did absolutely nothing but pull you closer to him. 

For the first time, those unconnected dots in that unanswered part of you in your dreams might be falling into place. 

"Was I quite close to you?" Your heart steadily begins to pick up. 

Miguel shook under his desire to just let the facade fall away and pull you into his arms. But he remained still as he looked back at you, silent plea from behind his words that was only articulated in those eyes that put bleeding sunsets to shame.

"You meant the world to me." 

The pieces coming together prompted these strong emotions you weren't expecting, coming out in broken tears. "So that's why you found me..." You shook your head. 

Miguel's heart tugs outside of his chest. He stands up, drawing closer, then his legs folded as he leaned in to where you sat on the couch. When you didn't pull away, he got the courage to cup your face in both his hands, gently wiping the wetness away. 

"Why didn't you come get me sooner?" It clicks at that very moment. That tender gaze that graced you now could not belong to anyone other than your starcrossed beloved who visited every time you closed your eyes. 

"I wanted to." Miguel must suppress his own tears at this point. Oh how he wanted to, how he ached to.

"Believe me, I really did, mi vida.." 

His term of endearment for you just encourages you to liquify under his touch even more. "But why didn't you?? I was so miserable. I waited for you. I thought you weren't real. Thought you were never coming..." 

"I know, I know." Miguel closed his eyes when your foreheads met at last. This feeling of touching you for the first time elated him, shedded him of his internal torment. He felt like he was soaring.

"You were married and I was..." He sighs deeply, pulling away just a little, "I was... well, me." 

"What do you mean by that?" You furrow your brows, your heart panged by hurt, trying to understand why. Why he deprived himself of this thing you both clearly wanted when it was right there. 

"Nobody as beautiful as you would ever love someone who looks like me.." 

A pit falls to the bottom of your stomach and you immediately shake your head. "No...no, that couldn't be further from the truth, Miguel..." 

You sit up, leaning in as you took his face in your hands again. His eyes went wide in disbelief. "W-what are you..." 

A million chills erupt in Miguel's body that become embers of warmth as your lips touch for the first time. He holds his breath, then sighs. The little break in between the kiss and the low, gentle sound coming from him just encourages you to meet him again, and again. 

Your fingers wind their way into his hair and his own hands couldn't do anything but pull you even closer as the kiss deepened under the weight of the burning passion. The longing was set free, a million questions answered that just kept confirming to Miguel over and over that this couldn't be more right.  Canon be damned, rules be damned as your lips and your hands became a slow dance of sensual exploration. 

"Miguel..." 

"Please I-mnghhh..." He pleads then relents immediately as he lets his head roll gently back, allowing you to continue blazing tantalizing trails of kisses all over his neck. Because of the size difference between you both, he scoops you into his arms off the couch. He can't help but indulge the feeling of your body pressed against his, using his grip on your thighs to grind you ever so lightly against his abdomen. 

The pressure delivered from the press of his body shoots directly to your core and you shamelessly take that as permission to roll your hips slightly as you straddled him, releasing that first moan into his mouth when your lips came back up from exploring the warmth of his neck. 

That delicious little sound you make nearly wrecks him in the best way. Miguel moans equally louder as his kisses dial up in intensity. His teeth begin nipping intermittently as the kiss morphs into a passionate exchange of saliva and collision of lips on lips. The potent venom laced in his fangs pools with the building zeal and it seeps into your mouth, leaving sweet aftertaste whose foreignness only fuels your arousal. 

An enormous thud echoes as Miguel falls backwards, but it does absolutely nothing to deter the flame lit under you. You both find a comfortable rhythm as his hands guide your hips as you ride his large spider abdomen while your makeout session riled with fervor. The coarse bristly hairs were a delicious addition to the addicting friction with each slow roll of your body. Miguel's lips fall open and his eyes falter. You relish this feeling of power over him, this enormous drider who all but became a weak weak man when he was underneath you. 

You bite your lip as each heavenly movement inspires you to leave all shame at the door and start to put on a show. You card your fingers in your hair, moving it in your eyes in erotic display, groaning as you rolled your head every which way in careless abandon, letting your fingers dip in your mouth, squeezing your breasts. 

"Fuckkk me..." Miguel breathes out. "Fuck me, you're so...God, you're so beautiful..." He hands continue to knead the swell of your ass, gritting his teeth as his grip locks down even harder and he feels you humping directly over his slit where his phallus was hardening underneath the ocean of fur to the point of ache. 

His hands then move to play with your breasts, your eyes widened when the spot on your hips is quickly replaced with two of his smaller forelegs, one of them teasing the waistband of your pants as his human hands quickly unclasped your bra. 

"Miguellll...." You mewl as one of his forelegs holds your hip steady while the other works little circles through your clothed clit, all while you felt his warm, wet tongue flatten and tease your left nipple. All you can do at this point is moan and let him wreck you completely, this pleasure that was smoldering you from all sides. 

You gazed down, amazed and aroused to discover that the lower half attached to this beautiful man you were tangled in only fueled the desire, this taboo. Knowing fully well that he was capable of bloodshed, but for now he only wanted to fuck you. You grinded harder against him, answering his soft ministrations of your clit with eager gyrations of your hips. 

"Me vas a terminar matando..."(You'll end up killing me) He weakly chuckled, "So, so perfect..."

Miguel is intoxicated by your breasts, circulating and squeezing them together, while his lips dribbled and slobbered as he sucked them both greedily into his mouth in messy alteration.

Soon both round globes were coated in a dripping sheen of his venom, working the thickening syrup in sloppy circles over both nipples that tingled and numbed you so deliciously along with the teasing circles of his thumbs that it made your back arch to the heavens. 

He leaned back momentarily to admire his handiwork, lower jaw shiny with a mixture of venom and spit, a steamy yet filthy display of his subtle ownership he now felt over you. 

His. 

His rightful claim when he snapped your sorry ass excuse of a husband like a twig. Each little noise you made all for him only swelling his pride and confirming his suspicion that the loser couldn't make you cum like he could. 

Speaking of cumming, you were damn near close. Miguel doesn't want to be greedy and would love to let his sweet little darling cream and squirt all over his stomach right now, but the thought was more appealing for this first time being on his tongue or, if you were up for it, his drider cock. 

"I wanna cum, Miguel, please I wanna cum..." You whined, temporarily losing that sweet spot as he removed his forelegs from their massage on your clit. 

"I know baby, I'm gonna make you cum..." He kissed you. "You'll cum for me. Many times, I'll make sure of it..." He panted, moving a finger underneath your chin. "How do you feel about taking my cock?" 

The straightforward nature of his question answered itself in the further dampening spot in your panties. "Please...Y-yes pleaseee, Miguel. Want you to fuck me...want you to give me your cock..." 

"Yeah?" He groaned, hands slinking all up and down your body, under your clothes, stroking your breasts. "I'll give it to you then, baby...fill you up so good..." 

He paused then kissed you deeply once more. "You're gonna have to trust me... We'll have to try something different so this can work..." 

You nodded. "I trust you, Miguel." 

"Okay..." He whispered. "You're still okay with this?" 

"Yes, I'm okay..." You breathed back. "I'm okay, baby. I want you so badly. I'm willing to try anything so you can be so deep inside of me..." 

"Fuck, me too..." He groaned back against your lips. "Okay, hold on f'me..." 

He set you back down on the couch and you were floored as you watched your beloved turn into an artist, spinning an elaborate web that stretched from floor to ceiling, almost like a swing that was anchored solidly on both sides to the wall. 

"Mi vida..." He offers you his hand like a gentleman, helping you up. "Can I?" He whispers as his hands disappear underneath your clothes. 

"Yes..." 

He strips you carefully and slowly like fine china, letting the anticipation build as every patch of skin slowly became revealed to him. 

Somehow letting him undress you, sliding the rest of your panties off and simply letting his eyes roam freely all over your body felt like the most intimate thing you had done all night, even more so as he still remained fully clothed in his top half as he stood back and drunk in the sight of you like wine. 

"You're simply stunning, love..." 

His hands ghosted low on your hips until they rested on the bare curve of your ass. You jumped and wrapped your thighs around him, Miguel tensed his jaw with a smirk as he kneaded the plump flesh of your ass, hardening again when he felt your bare slick he drew out of your pussy earlier against his stomach. 

He nestled you into the makeshift swing that was soft and sticky as the fibers clung to your bare skin in a natural adhesive. He spun more webs around your ankles, opening them slightly. 

"Is this still okay?" He asked gently again. 

Exhilaration washed over you but you nodded, grinning and easing your legs open in further tease to demonstrate your own building excitement for what was to come. "Yes..." 

"Good." His voice went halfway between a groan again at your pretty pussy blossoming like a flower in front of him. 

He stood back, eyes cloudy and trained on you as he removed his shirt, letting it fall in a quiet heap to the ground. 

You drank him in as well like an offering, moaning audibly when the slit in his fur low on his abdomen opened to reveal a long, thick, hard red cock with pulsating black veins adorning both sides. It curved upwards, and it throbbed, making your mouth water. 

This only made the full sight of your monstrous lover even more alluring as he stood before you in all his drider glory, towering over you even now when you were closer to his eye level in your makeshift swing, with your thighs spread and your silky cunt begging to be filled. 

He shot a web onto your belly, pulling you in closer while you still sat settled on the swing, giggling as he smirked playfully at you, until just the tip of his cock kissed between your folds. 

"Hi there..." You chuckled, tilting your head up, wetting your lips seductively. 

He groaned quietly in a stew of lust as he saw your tongue rake over your bottom lip, 

"Hello, sweetheart...fucking gorgeous thing, you..."

He gently pinched both sides of your cheeks between his thumb and pointer finger, immediately bringing you into a deep french kiss. 

The feeling of his warm tongue sliding in your mouth shot directly down to your cunt, only amping up in electricity as he teased his plump girthy head of his cock all around your pulsing clit. 

"Miguel....fuck me..." Your spine arched and your nails dug into his shoulder, aggravating the raging arousal he was simmering for you all over his body. "Don't tease me like this, baby..." 

Miguel released a mischievous chuckle that tapered into another one of his low moans that goaded you even deeper into all this pent up frustration you wish he'd take out on your now sopping pussy already.

"Ten paciencia, mi vida, por favor... " (Be patient, my life, please) He cooed sweetly at you, lightly brushing his nose against yours "Gotta get you nice and ready to take me..." 

You breath became choked in your lungs when he begins to massage the fat tip directly over your velvety clit, grunting as he felt another drip of arousal leak and coat all along the thick head. 

"Besides..." He murmured heavily though soft parted lips, entranced with hooded eyes. "The more I edge you, the more pleasureable it'll be when I finally make you cum all over my cock..."

"Baby, please..." The crescendo of arousal swelled in your belly, making your eyes water. You coaxed your body against him faster, desperate to reach that peak, but your movements were minimal due to the webbing. The feeling of emptiness covered you but was quickly eased when he promptly removed his tip from your clit again, this time dragging it down to your dripping entrance. 

"Kiss me..." Miguel murmured and he didn't need to tell you twice. His tongue rolled and rubbed with yours as he began to circle his cock into your wet opening, inch by inch filling you ever so slowly. You gasp into his mouth, realizing this whole time what he was talking about. You felt every rigid vein, every solid groove as his drider cock slowly pushed into you, stretching you beyond comprehension. It was unlike any you've ever taken before. Fuck, it felt better than any you'd ever taken before. 

Once you got past the daunting size, the addicting feeling and pleasure of having his cock inside you set off a new chorus of breathy moans from your lips. You sighed deliciously as you greedily accepted everything he was giving you, so transfixed on his divine face that was watching you the entire time. 

Miguel was irrevocably smitten, completely enamored with the way your warm silky walls wrapped around him, the way you looked at him with immense rapture. Fuck, this feeling was greater than anything he felt in his entire life as your pussy molded to him like it was made for him. "So tight, cariño..." He teased then hissed as he reached the hilt. 

You two gazed at each other, completely silent for what felt like divine eternity. Simply enjoying the feeling of Miguel being buried so deeply inside you. 

"I'm gonna start fucking you..." He whispered. 

"Go slow at first, baby..." You purred back, clenching your pussy around him, biting your lip when it earned another weak grunt from him. "Wanna feel you nice and deep like this for a bit..." 

"Haah...you're a goddamn tease..." Miguel huffed. "I'll try and go slow as long as I can..." The sound that came from him next was downright pathetic as he looked down at where he had you stuffed to the brim, feeling along the emerging bulge in your belly. 

"You feel so fucking good, it's hard not to just fucking ravish you right now..." 

"Mmm...just kiss me, then..." You murmured and he quickly seized onto that opportunity as he slowly began to pump inside you with lengthy, meaningful thrusts. Every movement was so wet and sloppy with drenched noises as a sea of slick began to drool from your pussy, coating his cock that slid in and out of you with greater ease as the moments passed. 

You squeezed your thighs in a death grip around his large waist as you became more hammered off this euphoria, the bristly hairs tickling the sensitive sides along your clit, goading you to grind back into each deep thrust. 

"Shit..." And Miguel's patience flew out the door with that lethal squeeze of your thighs, his hands gripped the curve of your ass as he began to completely unload on your needy wet cunt. You cried out as you took every torturous inch like the absolute whore you were for him in this moment.

It tested your limits but God, this feeling of him thoroughly fucking you nice and hard scratched that nagging, primal itch you experienced ever since you first laid eyes on him. You were practically drooling at this point, laying back and taking it, your submission just fueling his fire, unlocking that deep seated urge to fucking breed this perfect cunt for all it was worth, to ruin you and fuck your brains out so you could feel him for weeks. 

"Miguel, Miguel, Miguellllll....." The hungry, wispy mantra of his name from your lips nearly set him off the edge alone, a raw possession washing over him completely as he railed his cock into you to new limits. 

"You're all mine now, you know that..." 

"I'm all yours Miguel...all yours baby..." 

He cut you off with another fiery kiss. "Wanna cum inside you, baby, can I?" 

"Fffuck yes....yes, Miguel, fill me..." 

"I'll fill you up, baby..." His forelegs come up again, but this time one directly rubbing quick, vibrating circles on your clit, while one gently teased and massaged  the puckered rim of your ass, all while his heavy slick covered cock continued to pound your pussy. "But you're gonna cum f'me first..." 

"Miguel..." 

You nearly black out as you see heaven. Miguel locks in, dipping his head down as he swallowed onto your left breast again, tweaking and tugging the nipple of the right, his mouth salivating and more venom dousing and dripping from his tongue, soaking down your already sweaty body. 

The web renders you helpless as you have no option but to lay there and let him pleasure you past anything you thought you could handle. It felt like overstimulation as you shook and cowered and whined so loudly it could wake the neighbors. 

Your thighs trembled, tears leaking out of the corner of your eyes as you forced yourself to let go. The premature ending of all the previous other treatments he bestowed on your spent pussy piled on top of one another, making this one far more intense and overwhelming than the others. Thick cream oozed lewdly out of you, making a sticky, glossy mess of both your pubes and coating his black fur. 

"Cumming, sweetheart..." He panted, dripping sweat all down his reddened face, some of it landing in your mouth but you could care less. Everything about this encounter was so dirty and nasty already. The salacious feeling of consuming every part of one another from head to toe reduced you to nothing but a hole for him to dump his cum in, and you'd let him every time. 

"I-love-you...." 

And his heavy sweaty shaft and bulbous tip nudged your g spot simultaneously as his foreleg's massage of your swollen clit that your orgasm shuddered and rattled your bones, a new sinful coat of wetness squirting and seeping into Miguel's black fur that he soaked in like a badge of honor. 

He forgot to warn you before, but when the coil in his balls finally released and he came inside you, the thick, viscous drider cum was like lava as it spilled and drooled and leaked from your insides. Even after you thought he had emptied, another spurt of a thick rope of cum painted your drenched walls and flooded out of you. 

You both merely panted, eyes locked on each other in a display of intimacy of the deepest and most carnal kind, the overwhelming haze of orgasmic bliss made you both speechless. It almost didn't compute that he told you he loved you. 

You laid there in your spiderweb tangled underneath your drider lover in the now fully emerged daytime, world outside none the wiser of the steamy, lewd acts that took place. All the more enthralling that this became a love nest built on top of your blood lust and mutual yearning that exploded like gasoline on a fire. 

For now, real life could wait as you came back down to Earth and gazed at the flood of slick cum dripping and oozing from both of you. You felt that primal urge kick up again as Miguel smirked, softly stuffing the mess of what he could back inside the pool of glistening white that peeked between your aching folds. 

"And I love you too, Miguel.." You whispered back.

All the puzzle pieces of his scattered life fell back into place as he heard those glorious words hit him like a train. He willed this himself. Even if it meant taking you from another dimension, this thread across time, this inevitable bond was now cemented permanently with your lovemaking and the deepest parts of him that were now inside you. 

He could deal with all that bullshit later; he had his love back with him where she rightfully belonged.

You both laughed to yourselves as you sauntered down this path of mutual bliss and made a plan to leave all this behind and start a new life with your Drider lover in his reality. 

But first...you couldn't help but pull him closer and he couldn't help but groan loudly as he effortlessly slipped inside you again,

"It's you and me against the stars, mi vida..." 

And he groaned before rhythmically moving his body in that sinful dance with yours, 

"But first I'm gonna prove it by fucking you all over again." 

---

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 92 (Conrad's First Love)

cw: Conrad getting pretty spicy 🌶️🌶️🌶️ and not with Heather; references to human and drug trafficking (not depicted).

Follows the events of this post.

As she passed him to put away her gloves, a stunning redhead at Pappy Murphy's Boxing Gym caught Conrad's eye. Though he'd been deep in another bout of anger and self-pity over the death of his mother years earlier, he stopped his workout. Every inch of his being compelled him to talk to her.

She turned with a smile before he could stammer a single word. "Hi, handsome. Did you want a better look?"

He nervously introduced himself and she told him her name. "Ximena." The word floated from her lips like a song. He was instantly smitten.

"Ximena, could I buy you a drink?"

They spent the day in a local pub. He told her everything about his mother's death and his distance from his father in the years since. She listened, but she had a lot less to say about herself. "I live here with my brother. I'm a student, and I'm the only caretaker he has. Our parents aren't around anymore, and it's been just Rafa and me for years."

He could hear an accent when she spoke, and most people in Britechester weren't locals, so he made an assumption. "How long since you moved from Selvadorada?"

Surprised by his guess, she turned defensive. "I don't talk about Selva."

He liked her too much to press and push her away, so they spent the rest of the day flirting and discussing their interests until Ximena invited him back to her place. "You make me laugh, Conrad Gordon. My brother's still at school and I want to get to know you better without all this noise. I hate the music they play in here."

Once Conrad followed her out of the bar and back to the small home she shared with her kid brother, Rafa, he started following her everywhere.

He lost his virginity to her a week after they met. That night, she told him why she left Selvadorada.

"I was going to die or they were going to kill me. I wouldn't let them sell me to anyone anymore, so I made a plan and left with my brother in the middle of the night to come here."

She showed him the scars left by the cartel, and a resolve to keep her safe coloured his already steadfast affection. He let her cut his hair when she said she wanted to show him how freeing it felt to change his look. "It's nice not to recognize the person in the mirror, sometimes," she said.

She told him she was a student, often meeting him at Larry's Lagoon to study but usually distracting him into other activities. One afternoon, she introduced him to an old friend, Jimmy Stefano. "Can you help him out around campus? You're in the same major."

Something about Jimmy Stefano rubbed Conrad the wrong way, but he assumed it was jealousy. Despite this, he would already do anything for Ximena and agreed to take Jimmy under his wing.

He called his father to say he planned to stay at school for Spring Break. "Sorry, I know I said I'd come home to see you."

Stephen Gordon laughed him off, but masked slight disappointment. He had no idea whether his son was flourishing or floundering at college, unsure how he'd been coping so far from home. "Don't worry, son. I'm just glad you sound happy. You're making me and your mother proud."

He skipped classes to spend time with Ximena, but made no mention of this to his father, of course. He spent time with Rafa when Ximena said she had late-night classes, taking him to the park to play pirate captain versus sea monster, and talking endlessly with him about video games.

Rafa wanted to become a pirate captain in Sulani or a game tester in San Myshuno. He had almost no memory of life in Selva before his sister left, but he knew it was "the bad place." He liked spending time with Conrad because he said his sister was too strict. "She just loves you," Conrad assured him. "Parents have to set rules, and she can't just be your sister. She has to care for you like a parent, too."

He realized then how important it was to be a model for Rafa, who needed guidance as much as anyone his age. Conrad had always had his father, but who did Rafa have besides Ximena?

Conrad discovered how she paid for an entire house for her and her brother by accident, stumbling on an argument between her and Jimmy Stefano near the campus fountain. "The deal was thirty pounds for three grand."

"They said if I didn't have five grand they'd only give me fifteen. They had guns, Ximena."

"They all have guns! Knives, too. Get your own and figure out how to use it. Watcher, please, don't screw this deal up for me, Jimmy."

"Who has guns?"

"The cartel," said Jimmy, so nonchalant, yet it still hit Conrad like a missile. His stomach turned as he read Ximena's expression. Every lie she'd told him unravelled with a look.

"Are you really a student here, Ximena?"

"No. They're my customers."

He'd had his suspicions, but he'd always told himself he was wrong. Ximena was supposed to be perfect. Hoping against hope, he still tried to play the fool. "What do you mean?"

She dragged him back home to tell him the truth - how she'd bargained with the cartel to escape a life of servitude to the men who ran product all over Simlandia. She refused to serve them, but her way out was to join them instead.

Conrad was angry, but he couldn't stay mad at her for long. As they lay in bed that night, she asked, "Are you going to break up with me because of what I do?"

"Not a chance. I love you."

"I love you, too." She smiled, resting her head on his chest as he ran a hand through her newly blonde hair. "You look nice without glasses, Conrad."

"You already gave me a haircut, Xime. You don't like glasses?"

"Conrad, you're very sexy. But you hide it and it's silly."

"If you're going to give me a makeover, what should I get you?"

"Are you asking me?"

"Ximena, I want to give you everything you could ever want."

She blushed. "I want you, Conrad. But since I already have you, maybe...jewelry? Like a ring."

"You don't wear any rings."

"Because none are special enough, Conrad."

He smiled. "Alright, that's one idea. But say I wanted to surprise you, what else did you want?"

"You could join me running product for the cartel. Our lives would be made, and we'd always be together."

"I don't want to run product for the cartel, Ximena. But I'm not going anywhere. I'll always be there for you. Rafa, too."

"Right, but what if I go? Rafa loves you, Conrad, almost as much as me. But what if the cartel moved me somewhere else? Would you come with me? Maybe you could be, like, my security. No running, just keeping me safe. Always with me and Rafa."

He'd do anything to protect her, but he didn't answer her that day, refocusing on his studies until he returned to San Myshuno at the end of the semester.

He'd missed his father more than he expected, and they went for walks in warm sunshine by the Spice Market. They talked about school, and Conrad talked about Ximena - leaving out details of her career and focusing instead on her relationship with her brother. Conrad rarely asked his father about work, but Stephen hinted he was inching closer to retirement. "Chester's daughter Nancy is ready to take over the company, but Chester's not quite ready to retire. I think she's plotting a coup, but you didn't hear that from me."

"What happens to you if she pushes out her own father?"

"Hopefully, a retirement package. Chester may not be ready, but I think I am."

On one of their walks, they passed a jewelry store, and Conrad made a beeline for the ring counter. A confident salesman smiled as the Gordon men walked inside. "Welcome. What are we shopping for today?"

"I'm just looking," Conrad said. "What rings do you have?"

The salesman beamed. "Are we thinking of an engagement?"

Stephen eyed his son carefully, but Conrad shook his head. "Not right now. Just like, for an accessory."

"I don't know, son. A ring says you're ready for forever."

Conrad took his father's words to heart, considering what forever with Ximena might look like. He wanted to be with her, but he wasn't ready for a ring. He left that day with a nice bracelet for her, instead.

"Even leaving with a bracelet as nice as that one...she must mean something. I'd love to meet her."

Conrad nodded. "She might be able to visit this summer, if she's not too busy with work," he said.

Stephen smiled and the Gordon men continued their walk, strengthening the bond nearly severed by grief before Conrad returned to Britechester for another semester. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOT FUN FACT: Conrad got crab lice from Ximena when they slept together for the first time, which is gross but also fitting I guess. And yet I didn't make it canon because it didn't quite fit the vibe. Plus, he wasn't supposed to find out that early on that Ximena was problematic.

WCIF Poses Used? Various from packs Old Souls Love Differently by @simmireen (when Ximena is blonde), Our First Time by @eclypt0sims (redhead), The Kiss by @simmerberlin (black hair) and Nights Like These by @sakurasims-world (also redhead).

WCIF Jewelry Store? Jewelry Store by Guinifere on the Sims 4 Gallery. Very elegant interior and comes with crafting tables, a vault, charging stations - very nice lot! Needs dressing up with completed jewelry on the counters and in displays to look really spectacular (and I of course went the lazy route), but I wouldn't if I was playing a retail career, and this is a great lot for someone who wants to be a jeweler!

[loveesiren]

Champagne & Sunshine (Pt. 2)

JJ Maybank x Reader

Synopsis: Y/n's true colors show when it comes to protecting her sister.

Warnings: Language, alcohol, trauma, fighting, knife

Word Count: 3.5k+

Y/N's POV:

You stirred slightly as the sunlight hit your face. You cursed yourself for not closing your blinds last night. You felt JJ's strong arms wrap around you tightly.

"Morning, Barbie doll." He whispers into your hair.

"I don't want morning." You respond.

"Me either." He chuckles, placing a kiss on your forehead.

"Y/N!" Marley yells, busting into your room.

"Ugh, Marley! What did I say about knocking?!"

Marley's expression softens when she sees JJ. "Hey, J!" She gushes.

"Hey, Mars. What's up?" JJ responds, propping himself up on his elbow as he rubs the sleep from his eyes.

"Uhm, mom wants you guys to come down for breakfast."

"We'll be down in a minute, Mars. Fucking knock next time!" You scold as you throw your pillow at her her.

Marley leaves without another word. She was only a year and a half younger than you. She'd been crushing on JJ since the first night you brought him home. She acted much more civil when he was around.

"Ugh," You groan into your pillow.

"Let's not keep them waiting," JJ says, placing a kiss on the back of your head before hopping out of bed and going to your closet to find a shirt.

You pull yourself out of bed. You rub your eyes, grateful JJ had taken off your make up the night before.

"Lemme brush," JJ said, running to your bathroom and grabbing your hair brush. He took your hair out of it's ponytail and slowly ran the brush through your long locks, being careful not to pull your hair. He handed you your favorite leopard print headband so you could push your hair back before the two of you made your way downstairs.

"JJ, my man!" Your dad cooed, passing the joint he was smoking to JJ.

"Mr. Y/L/N, how've you been?" JJ says, dapping him up as he took a drag of the joint.

"Not bad, kid. How are you?"

"Never better!" JJ says, sitting beside you at the kitchen table.

Marley sat next to JJ as she drooled over him. He was the only thing that grabbed her attention away from her phone.

"Stop being a creep, Mars!" You hissed at your sister.

Your mom set a plate of bacon in front of you to add to the pancakes, eggs, fruit bowl, and waffles she had prepared.

"Jeez, how stoned are you guys at 9am?" You chuckle, taking the joint from JJ.

"Just enough to make breakfast for our family!" Your mom says gleefully as she sits next to your father.

"It looks fire, mom." You praise, passing the joint off to Marley.

You all fill your plates with food and dig in. "So what do you two have planned for the day?" Your father asks, motioning to you and JJ.

"John B wants to go fishing I think," JJ responds. "Then party at the Boneyard tonight? I think?"

You nod in agreement.

"I want to go!" Marley says.

"No, Mars!" You spit.

"Y/N, let your sister go with you." Your mom demands.

"Ugh," You groan.

"Of course you can come, Mars." JJ smiles at her.

You roll your eyes but go back to you food.

After breakfast, you head up to your room to get ready. "Will you do my make up, Y/N?" Marley asks as she follows you and JJ.

You sigh. You couldn't say no to your sister. Annoying as she was, you loved her. "Yeah, come on." You say, wrapping your arm around her neck and pulling her towards your bathroom.

JJ made himself comfortable in your bathtub and lit up a joint as you helped Marley with her make up. She smiled as you helped her match her make up to yours.

"There," You said as you finished gluing on a pair of false lashes to her eyeliner.

"Twinning!" JJ squeals, handing the joint to Marley.

You laughed, realizing Marley was practically a spitting image of you. You went to your closet to find some clothes. You pulled on a pair of black jean shorts and a red crop top to match Marley's purple one.

"Alright, let's go!" You said as you grabbed your purse. Marley and JJ followed you as you headed downstairs.

"Headed out?" Your dad asks from the couch.

"Yup! Be back later!" You said as you push JJ and Marley out the door.

"Make good choices!" You hear your dad say.

"Always!" You respond. You head to your car. JJ opens the passenger door for Marley. You sigh slightly, wishing JJ was sitting next to you. But sweet JJ Maybank was too much of a gentlemen to let your sister sit in the back seat.

You pulled into the Chateau to find everyone sitting outside. John B and Pope playing hackey sack while Kie and Sarah sat in the hammock.

You all pile out of the G-Wagon. "We fishin' or what?" JJ says as he approaches the boys. Everyone eyes you approaching with your sister. "Mars is joining us today."

They've all met Marley before. They've been to your house plenty of times. But it wasn't often that she joined you guys for your everyday adventures.

"Hey Marley!" Sarah says, getting up and hugging your little sister.

"Hey!" Marley says. You could tell she was shy but excited.

"Let's get this show on the road!" John B says, heading towards the Pogue.

Sarah takes your sisters hand and skips down the dock with her. JJ throws his arm around your neck, as he always does, leading you down to the boat.

You glance back at Kiara for just a moment, locking eyes. She was less than happy that you were here and even more bothered that your little sister was here as well. But she wasn't about to ruin everyone's good time.

You and Mars sat at the front of the boat, passing back and forth a blunt as you watched the boys fish.

"You really let your little sister smoke?" Kie judges you.

"Kie, it's a nice day out. You really wanna kill the vibe?" You ask, not bothering to look at her as you kept your head leaned back into the sun.

"I'm 17," Marley hisses. "I can take care of myself."

You chuckle at your sisters response.

"Should we head to the Boneyard?" Sarah asks, breaking the tension as usual. The sun was beginning to set and you knew the party would be popping off soon.

"Let's do it!" You say.

John B pulls the Pogue up to the Boneyard and docks it. You happily skip out, pulling Marley with you.

"Wait up!" You hear JJ say. He practically slams into you as you stop. "Hey," He smiles down at you.

"Hey," You respond, getting lost in his ocean eyes.

JJ just stares at you, speechless, a wide grin on his face.

Marley rolls her eyes and grabs both of your hands. "Come on, love birds, let's get a drink." She says as she pulls you towards the keg.

Once you all get your drinks, you stand around in a circle joking and laughing about the days events. JJ wraps his arms loosely around your waist and leans his head into your shoulder. You wrap an arm around his neck and run your fingers through his blonde locks. Sarah and John B clung to each other as usual. You notice Kie and Pope standing awkwardly close. Kiara eyed you and JJ while Pope stared at her, trying to suck her into a conversation.

"You smell so fucking good," JJ mumbles into your neck as he ran his fingers through the ends of your hair.

You could feel the liquid courage course through your veins and you gently bit his shoulder, sucking lightly as you tasted the salt on his skin. "Let's go for a walk," You suggest.

JJ chuckles and tightens his grip on your waist, quickly leading you towards the beach.

You both stand in the shallow waves, kicking water at each other. "Y/N," JJ says.

"Yeah?" You ask, calming down a bit at his serious tone.

"Uhm..." He begins. "We, uhmmm...we-"

"Kissed?" You smile, finishing his sentence.

He nods his head, looking down to hide his smile. "Yeah. Kissed."

You take a few steps closer to him. Pressing your breasts against his chest, you looked up at him. "We did indeed." You smile.

He bites his lip as he looks down at you, placing his hands firmly on your hips.

"Kiss me again, JJ." You whisper.

He wastes no time smashing his lips against yours. He brings one hand up to cup your cheek, pressing his other hand against the small of your back to pull you as close as possible.

You moan into the kiss as you tangle your fingers in his hair. His tongue slides across your bottom lip, asking for entrance and you gladly accept. The way his hands explore your body have you melting. He was so hungry for you and you wanted nothing more than for him to take you right there on the beach.

"Y/N! JJ!" John B's voice, once again, ruining the moment.

You both groan as you take a step back from each other.

"Sorry to ruin the moment but we have a problem." John B says as he approaches you. He turns and points to Marley, sitting uncomfortably close to Topper Thornton.

"What the fuck," You say as you storm off in her direction. JJ following close behind you.

"Mars, what are you doing?" You ask.

"Uh, having a beer?" She says, waving around her red solo cup.

"Why are you chillin' with them?" You scoff as you eye the Kooks sitting around her.

"Ah, Y/N! Join the party!" A drunk Rafe says, patting his thigh, inviting you to sit on him.

You scoff and roll your eyes. "Come on, Mars, we're going home." You say as you grab her wrist.

"No!" She says, pulling back from you. "I'm having a good time!"

"She's having a good time, Barbie! Why not join us?"

Rafe calling you Barbie made your stomach turn. When JJ said it, you melted, but Rafe's rapey eyes and seething smile just boiled the anger in the pit of your stomach.

"Fuck you, Cameron!" You spit. "Marley, we're leaving."

Rafe stood up and approached you. You looked up at him as he towered over you. You swallowed you fear as you kept your eyes locked on his.

Marley tried to stand up but Topper grabbed her hips and pulled her onto his lap.

"Let go of her, Topper!" You could hear Sarah yell.

You pushed Rafe back but he grabbed your wrists as soon as your hands met his chest. "You know you're too pretty to be hanging out with these fucking Pogues." He whispers.

"Let go of me, Rafe!" You scream.

Rafe threw you to the ground and before you knew it all hell breaks loose. JJ, John B, and Pope were all swinging on Rafe and Topper.

"Marley!" You yell as you watch her fall to the ground after being pushed aside by Topper.

Sarah was quick to grab her and drag her away from the chaos. "Come on!" You hear a familiar voice as she grabs your hand. Kiara pulls you away from the fight, leading you to where Sarah and Marley were.

You wrap your arms around Marley and hug her head to your chest. She was crying now. All you could do was watch the boys fight as you comforted your sister.

"JJ!" You screamed. Rafe had him on the ground and you felt the anxiety boil up inside you.

The last time you saw this scene, the love of your life ended up dead.

You passed Marley off to Kiara and Sarah before running full force at Rafe and tackling him to the ground, luckily catching him off guard. There's no way you could take him down otherwise.

You whipped out your butterfly knife and held it to his throat. Rafe's eyes went wide as you pressed the knife to his skin, his hands coming up in surrender.

"Y/N!" You heard JJ yell.

Your breathing was heavy as you stared Rafe in the eyes.

"Y/N, don't!" Marley screamed.

"Y/N, give me the knife." JJ's voice calmed you down as he rested a hand on your shoulder.

You kept your eyes locked on Rafe's as you tried to steady your breathing. You slowly handed the knife to JJ and allowed him to help you stand up.

"Hey, you're good!" JJ says, taking you face between his hands. "You're good."

You close your eyes and nod.

"Fucking bitch," Rafe mutters underneath you. You turn and kick him hard in the stomach.

"Alright, let's dip!" JJ says, leading you off towards the boat before you could do any more damage.

The party had died down immensely after the fight that had just broken out.

You all climbed into the boat and Marley wrapped her arms around you. "Are you okay?" She whispered.

JJ sat in front of you, concern written all over his face. He'd never seen the way you acted tonight.

You clung to Marley's arm as you tried to suppress the memory of Bandit's murder. The murder you'd forever blame yourself for.

"JJ's fine, he's right here." Marley reassured you, knowing all to well the thoughts running rapid in your head.

Everyone else in the van was confused. No one knew who Bandit was or why your bubbly personality was suddenly silent. Or why you had just nearly cut Rafe Cameron over a fight that happened at least twice a month.

Marley pushed you forward so you collapsed in JJ's lap. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer to him.

JJ's POV:

"What's going on?" I mouth to Marley as I hold on to Y/N, running my fingers through her fluffy extensions.

"Later," Mars mouths.

John B pulls up to the Chateau. I pick Y/N up and carry her inside. Marley follows as I bring her to the pullout couch I've been sleeping on. Y/N was asleep, thank God. I rested her head on a pillow and pulled a blanket over her, pressing a kiss to her temple before I walked away to talk to Marley.

"What the hell just happened?" I asked. The other Pogues were gathering around now, all curious to what made their sweet Calabasas angel turn demonic.

Marley backed away, intimidated by everyone approaching her. "Yo, back up!" I said, leading Marley slightly away from the others.

"She-Her last boyfriend..." Marley started. "They were at a party and...this guy went crazy. Being an asshole to all the women there. He pushed Y/N down...Bandit tried to stop it. The guy stabbed him to death. Y/N saw it all happen."

I squeezed my eyes shut. This was something Y/N never mentioned, and I can't blame her for that.

"Shit," Kiara said.

"Oh, now you care, Kie?!" I snapped. I didn't mean to but I couldn't help it.

"JJ, I didn't know-"

"None of us did! She's carrying around this fucking trauma but still manages to be the kindest fucking person we've ever met!"

Kiara stays silent.

I scoff and walk off. I lay down next to Y/N, pulling her body close to mine, tucking her head into my chest. Marley walks over and lays down on the other side of her sister.

"How can I help her?" I ask.

"You already do." Marley responds. "I've never seen her so happy."

"She never told me about Bandit." I said, running my fingers over her skin.

"She never tells anyone about him. When we moved here and she met you, she left our old life behind. She was Queen Bee at our old school and she was so depressed. She didn't have real friends. They just wanted to be her friend cuz of the money. And when she started dating Bandit, they all judged her. He wasn't popular like the rest of them."

"What was he like?" I asked. I couldn't help but feel insecure, knowing Y/N was inlove with someone before. Someone probably way better than me.

Marley chuckled. "He was like...this emo kid. All these piercing, played guitar, the darkness to Y/N's light. He really loved her though. He died saving her."

I bit back my tears. "I owe him a thank you."

Marley leans up and looks at me. "JJ, she'll always love Bandit, but that doesn't take away the love she has for you."

I look over at her with a puzzled look. "Come on, J," Marley chuckles. "She's been in love with you since she met you. She's just been...scared. That's what happens when you lose the person you never expected to."

I let her words resinate for a moment. Of course Y/N would always love Bandit. I'd never take that from her. But I will do everything in my power to make her know love still exists in this world. And that I'm never going anywhere.

Y/N's POV:

"Bandit?" You cock your head to the side as he approaches you.

"Hey, babe."

You run to him, wrapping him up in a hug. "B, I thought I'd never see you again!" You cry into his shoulder.

"I can't stay for long, pretty girl." He whispers into your hair. "I just wanted to tell you something."

"B..."

"Listen, baby." He says, pulling you back. "I'm dead. I miss you so much. And I know you miss me. But you are so vibrant and beautiful. Watching you thrive in life makes me so happy. I need you to keep living. Stop holding back. As much as I hate not being yours, I like this JJ kid. He really cares about you."

"Bandit, I'm so sorry..." You cry.

"Baby girl, it's not your fault."

"But I-I hit him..."

"He deserved it. He was about to stab you. I'll never regret preventing that."

"Ban-"

"Shhhh, Y/N. I died so you could live. Now go live. I love you."

He presses a kiss to your lips and you pull him closer, savoring every last moment before he disappears into your memory once again.

Your eyes flutter open. Your face was pressed against JJ's chest and you sighed happily, squeezing your arm around him tighter. Bandit visited you last night and gave you his permission to move forward. You felt at peace waking up in JJ's arms.

"JJ?" You mutter against his skin.

"Yes, Princess?" He asks softly. You melt at his words.

"I'm sorry." You whisper, nuzzling closer to him.

"Why are you sorry?"

"Cuz I was mean last night."

"You weren't mean,"

"I hurt Rafe."

"Rafe's a dick. He deserved it."

"But I don't want to hurt people. Last time I hurt people..."

"Shhh," JJ said. "You didn't hurt anyone, baby."

You bit back tears. "Where's Marley?"

"She's outside with everyone. I think she ordered McDonald's."

You chuckle. "Sounds like Mars." JJ helps you off the pull out couch and leads you outside. Everyone's eyes turn to you and you sigh, knowing Marley told them everything."

"Y/N! I got your favorite!" Marley says, holding up a McDonalds bag.

You laugh and stumble over to her. "Thanks, Mars." You say as you lean against her.

"You okay?" Kiara asks.

You look up at her as you nibble on your fries. "Yeah, I'm good. Thanks." You say bitterly. You didn't mean for it to sound that way but you also weren't in the mood for small talk. "Mars, can I speak to you in private please?" You ask, standing up and pulling her towards the dock.

"What the hell were you doing with Topper last night?" You ask once you'd made it far enough away from the others.

"I don't know! You were off with JJ, Sarah and John B were all over each other. Kie and Pope are fucking weird. Topper came up to me and offered me a beer so I sat with them."

"They are assholes, Mars."

"Yeah, I gathered that." She says with an attitude. "A-are you okay?" She asks. "You almost lost it last night..."

"Did you tell them? About Bandit?"

Marley looks down, avoiding your gaze. "They were really worried, Y/N."

"Doesn't give you the right to bring up his name."

"Y/N, you can't just avoid it forever. It's been three years. If you don't face it you'll never be able to-"

"Shut up, Mars!" You were sick of hearing it. You liked keeping Bandit to yourself. He was yours. Forever. Other people didn't need to know your business. You wanted to leave the trauma of Calabasas behind you and start fresh here. But now your old life was surfacing.

"You can't just move away and act like it never happened!" She yelled back at you. "It happened, Y/N! He's dead! You have to let people help you! You have to move on!"

You ran your fingers through your hair. "I don't need help!" You screamed, loud enough for the others to hear. You clung to the sleeves of JJ's oversized flannel. The one he wrapped you up in during the night. His scent being the only thing keeping you from from absolutely losing it. You take a deep breath and close your eyes. "I-I am...moving on. I just, I wasn't really ready for that information to be out in the open."

Marley nods. "I get that. I'm sorry. I just didn't know how to explain why you went nuts on Rafe."

"It's fine, Mars."

"You guys okay?" JJ asks as he walks towards you and Marley.

"I'll be in the car...mom and dad want us home soon." Marley says, smiling at JJ and heading back towards the G-Wagon.

"Hey, yeah...I'm okay." You smile sadly, leaning into JJ's arms. "I just, uhm...there's some stuff I'm just not ready to talk about yet."

"I understand," JJ says, running his fingers down the length of your spine. "I'm always here for you, you know that, right?"

You pull back and look up at him. "Yeah, I do. Thank you." You smile. "I'm gonna go home and rest a bit. I think I'm a little hungover." JJ looks slightly sad but he nods, knowing you needed some time. "I'll text you later, yeah?" You say, fiddling with your hair as you back away.

"Yeah, yeah sounds good, sweetheart." JJ smiles at you.

You take one last look at him before turning around and heading towards the car. "Bye guys!" You say to everyone as you pass.

You climb into the car, offering a small smile to Marley before you flip on one of your CD's. Yo blasted Bandit's favorite song as you headed home. Smiling instead of crying for the first time in years.

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged! :)

[theladyheroine]

CW x Transformers Prompts 🪐🛰️

❥ Hello! 👋🏽 So, considering my last TF x SW post I felt like this would be a cool crossover! But feel free to use these prompts however you like! Please be sure to credit though, thank you! Hope you enjoy & have a good day/night! 🌙☀️

A Cybertronian Reader is thrown off course after being attacked by a Decepticon starship. They end up crash landing on a planet inhabited by a clone squad, who pick up on their distress signal.

A clone squadron is set to ambush a Seperatist military operation, until one of their vehicles turns into a Decepticon. Unsure of how to proceed, an Autobot suddenly jumps into the battlefield.

The Bad Batch attempt to rent a speeder bike or some kind of ride while their ship is being repaired. But once they get their hands on it, turns out it’s an Autobot who got stuck in their alt-mode.

The 501st is set for a big attack against the Seperatists, but there’s another squadron joining them. A squad composed entirely of Autobots, sent by Optimus Prime.

Ahsoka befriends an injured Cybertronian she met while it was in hiding. After helping them out for a while, she introduces them to Anakin & her friends. Who are all shocked to meet someone so tall… 😅

Fives & Echo arrive on Cybertron after being let on shore leave, invited to the planet by their mechanical friend. Who hopes to watch the Iacon 5000, but Fives has a better idea. Why not compete?

After being separated from his team on a desolate part of a planet, Commander Wolffe comes across a young Cybertronian. A little protoform hiding by itself.

After hiding from the Empire with a brigade of Autobots, Omega becomes restless until she meets a teenage protoform. Who’s looking for a good time outside of the base.

As the first Republic Senator to arrive on Cybertron in over a century, Padme Amidala comes face to face with one of the great Primes. Which is the Reader, whose very first task as a newly appointed Prime is to welcome the Senator.

[lush-lavenders]

❀Late Bloomer❀

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Summary: You are late to enter society, but that doesn't mean you don't catch anyone's eye...

Request: Nope

Author’s Note: Sooo I'm really bad about disappearing. But recently I've been binging Bridgerton and been in the mood to write, so here we are!

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: None, just fluff here

Buy me a Ko-Fi

!I don’t own this gif!

Dearest Reader,

It has come to my attention that a Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N), youngest daughter to Baron Arthur (Y/L/N), is making her debut, mid-season. Not only that, but she is almost one and twenty!

While this author cannot see the future, she can certainly predict it (and I do predict it well) - this season will be nothing if not eventful for Baron (Y/L/N) children.

—

As you stepped into the ballroom, the flutter in your stomach threatened to escape from your mouth. 

Lady Whistledown had come out this morning, and your mother was enthralled by the mere mention of your name. This made her fuss over you all day, needing to make your debut even more ‘perfect.’ 

You tried on three different dresses before the right one was picked out. You had five hairstyles tried out before your mother decided on the very first one. You had spent two hours out in search of the perfect matching earrings and necklace.

You were exhausted by the time you had to get ready, and severely tense as you arrived at Lady Danbury’s ball.

Cassandra, your sister-in-law, squeezed your arm softly. “Take a deep breath. This is just a party.”

You quickly took a breath, sighing it out. “That is easy for you to say. You married my brother in your first season after courting for a week.”

Cassie opened her mouth probably to give you more words of encouragement when your brother butted in. “We cannot stand here and talk all night. You need to present yourself to suitors.”

Before you could even think about protesting, Matthew walked ahead of you with Cassie on his arm, leaving you to trail behind.

—

“That there is Miss Buchan, she’s the only child of Earl Buchan.” The dowager Viscountess Bridgerton was discreetly pointing out young ladies to her two eldest sons, whose attentions would rather be anywhere else.

Benedict was scanning the room for someone he could use to politely excuse himself from his mother’s matchmaking. 

It would be an understatement to say he wasn’t interested in marrying yet. He had just recently started at Art School and wanted nothing more than to enjoy his work as a bachelor.

That’s when he spotted Lady Danbury. Normally he avoided the woman, as she could be as scheming as his mother, but she seemed like his only refuge.

“Excuse me, Mother, but I believe I should give my regards to Lady Danbury for the invite.” Benedict bowed to Violet before quickly heading off in the direction of the hostess. 

He thought about turning away last minute, evading all the prying eyes of those who might want to set him up, but something caught his attention - the once-alone lady of the house was now talking with a young lady. One he had yet to see in the sea of lovely debutantes. 

“Mr. Bridgerton!” Lady Danbury’s distinct voice cleared his mind as he approached. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” She knew better than anyone that the Bridgerton boys tried to avoid her at these balls.

Benedict bowed, offering a smile. “Lady Danbury, I just wanted to compliment your wonderful party.”

Lady Danbury raised her, knowing that there was an ulterior motive. She glanced at where Violet Bridgerton was standing with her eldest, noticing her eyes were following her second child.

She flashed a scheming smile and turned her attention back to the young lady she was with. “Where are my manners? Miss (Y/N), this is Mr. Benedict Bridgerton. Mr. Bridgerton, may I present to you Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N). This is her first ball, so I expect you to be on your best behavior. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I should go talk to your mother.” 

She gave him a little pat on the shoulder, pushing him towards you as she went to Violet.

You lightly curtseyed as Benedict bowed his head to you. As you stood up straight, you froze, staring into the most beautiful blue eyes. Your heart skipped a beat as you took in the man’s features, stunned that someone such as him could be before you.

“Miss (Y/L/N).” He took your gloved hand and lifted it to his lips, pressing the gentlest kiss one could muster.

“Mr. Bridgerton,” you returned, not knowing what else to say. He had captured any words that might formulate within you.

His grasp lingered on your hand, longer than one might consider proper. It was good that the two of you were sequestered to the back of the ball.

At least you had thought you were hidden away.

A hand and sudden voice from behind told you how wrong you were.

“(Y/N), we have been looking for you. We turned around and you had disappeared.” Cassie let go of her husband to take your arm. “Who might you be talking to?” She asked, hiding the joy she felt for her best friend talking to a very eligible bachelor.

Benedict bowed to her and introduced himself before you could do it. “Benedict Bridgerton, at your service.” He joked lightly, and you bit your lip softly as you smiled.

“Bridgerton,” Matthew said as he bowed his head. “I’ve done quite a bit of business with your brother.”

If it wasn’t for Cassie being between you, you would have elbowed your brother right in the ribs for creating such a boring conversation.

Luckily, Cassie was thinking similarly enough to you. “Now now, my love. I’m sure Mr. Bridgerton does not need to hear about his own brother.”

Benedict chuckled, agreeing with her. “Yes, well, as well not needing to hear from him.” He joked, just as a hand landed on his shoulder.

“Well, Brother, maybe I shall take a look at your allowance?” Viscount Bridgerton came up out of the blue.

It seems as though each of your siblings was trying to prevent the two of you from speaking.

And they just kept coming.

Eloise Bridgerton arrived next, in an effort to escape from her mother. “Anthony, Benedict, you really must not leave me alone with Mama.” She sounded sort of breathless as if she had rushed here.

You cleared your throat, suddenly feeling parched. “Pardon me…” You muttered to no one in particular. Matthew and the Viscount seemed to be conversing about business, while Eloise tried to convince Benedict to return to their mother for her.

Cassie silently went along with you, still holding your arm.

You were silent as you made your way to the refreshments table, grabbing the first glass in front of you. You tried to appear as ladylike as possible while you practically gulped down the lemonade.

“I am so sorry for our interruption, (Y/N),” Cassie said after you had finished. “I did not realize you were speaking with a Bridgerton.” 

You shook your head, setting the glass down. “It’s alright. We didn’t really start to converse yet.” Not that you had the chance.

She picked up a glass herself and took a sip, her thoughts lingering. “You seemed… quite enamored with him.”

You scoffed, but not in a way to be rude. “Did you even look at him, Cassie? He’s…” You were at a loss for words as your gaze landed back on the Bridgerton in question. His eyes were wandering, ignoring both of your brothers. They wandered and wandered… until they eventually landed.

On you.

Your eyes met for the second time that night, but this time you quickly looked away, cheeks growing hot. 

That wasn’t before you noticed his perk up and began heading in your direction.

“Cassie, he’s coming over here. What do I do?” You ask in a panic. The only men you’ve ever really talked to were your father and brother, and neither counted towards this.

She put both hands on your shoulders, making you look at her. “Just be yourself.”

That’s the best advice you have, you thought to yourself.

You barely had the time to think up a response when Benedict made it to you, bowing his head again in greeting. “Mrs. and Miss (Y/L/N).”

You both courtesy, Cassie standing up before you. “I believe my husband needs me.” She says before snicking off, leaving you two alone.

“Mr. Bridgerton,” you say after a moment, lifting your eyes to take a look at his features. Features that seem to be drilled into your mind from the beginning of the night. “Has my brother bored you so much you seek me out?” You joke in a self-deprecating manner, knowing you aren’t exactly worthy of his attention.

He smiled at your humor but shook his head. “Our brothers together are an apparent force to be reckoned with, but it is not them that brings me here. It’s you.”

Your breath caught in your chest at those last two words.

He actually wanted to be around you. There is nothing you could’ve hoped for more.

He looked around your surroundings before having you take his arm. “It gets so stuffy in here, does it not? Let us get some fresh air.”

“Just the two of us?” You asked with raised eyebrows. You had never been left, unchaperoned; yet the thought of it, with Benedict… it excited you.

He smiled a crooked but sweet smile. “Only if we leave now, while no one’s watching.”

You smile back, looking around as you follow him quickly into the hall before going out a backdoor into the gardens.

In the first few moments you observed him under the moonlight, your whole future played out. Everything centered around him.

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

Protective Gale Dadkarios Thoughts

A/N: I am once again thinking about Gale being a father and it's giving me emotions. This man makes me soft guys!

Okay, first things first, this is more in keeping with my Single Mom!Tav, Gwen, headcanons (found here)

Basically Gwen had a tiefling child, Clara by a previous marriage. She and her husband divorced and after Gale and Gwen got married they had a daughter named Morgan

As I've kind of dove into here; Clara and Morgan have a hard time conceptualizing their father as an adventurer

Yes, obviously, he was, but to them he's just their dad; the one who makes bad jokes and cooks and reads them stories, it's not necessarily real to them

So imagine for a moment, Clara walking through the market with a little Morgan in tow

Clara old enough at this point to go by herself, but Morgan is obessed with her big sister and Gwen insist Clara bring Morgan with her

Clara begrudgingly agrees, taking the coin Gwen gave them to buy some things for dinner while Morgan tugs on her sleeve asking if they can get a treat

Clara is too distracted to notice at first the sound of horses hooves galloping toward them. The store keeper in front of them suddenly drops with an arrow to the chest. The rest is chaos.

Clara doesn’t know what to do except grab Morgan and start running back towards home. Morgan is scared though and too little to run properly.

Clara then ducks them between a few barrels just hoping nobody notices them. She only is just able to catch her breath when she feels a hand on her shoulder.

She starts to yell ready to start biting just like her uncle Astarion told her when she sees her dad kneeling down next to them.

Morgan throws her arms around him and Clara isn’t that far behind

Gale hugs them both asking if Gwen is with them. Clara tells him she’s back home. She then sees something in her dad’s eye she hasn’t seen before.

His jaw is set and there is something calculating in the way he looks out at the choas on the other side of the alley way. He then kisses them both of the forehead and tells them very calmly to stay hidden, he’ll be right back.

Morgan starts to reach out to her dad, but Clara holds her back. Something in how he said it makes her actually feel the necessity to do as he says.

Still, she can’t help it take a peak as she sees her dad step out of the alley with nothing but his staff.

The next thing she sees is a display of magic she’s only heard in stories.

The fire that rains down isn't done out of fury, but cool precise calculation

Time might as well have stopped

Gale isn't being extravogent or showing off, this is a wizard at full power cleaning up the mess in the most efficient way possible

When the dust clears, Gale stands in the middle of it all without a scratch on him

He then turns back to see Clara and Morgan peaking out of the alley way

He wants to chastize them for not hiding properly like he said, but he can't bring himself to do it, espeically when Morgan comes charging into his arms

Clara isn't far behind and he gathers them both to him

Everything is alright now, time to go home

Morgan is really too little to understand what she just saw, only that it was scary and the safest place she can think to be is in her father's arms

Clara honestly can't help but stare at him; she didn't think he was that...well, cool

Of course, this illusion is shattered the second he makes a bad joke in some attempt to get them to smile

At the end of the day, he's still their dad; soft, safe and warm

[glossdebut]

PRICE OF FAME | MYG ★ CH. 2 TEASER

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SUMMARY: You were about ready to give up, your career nowhere near what you dreamed it’d be when you started at eighteen, bright-eyed and naive. Reality for you these past few years has consisted of pouting at a camera, ignoring whispers of your name at company events, and ensuring that the stupid, tiny designer purses they keep forcing on you can at least carry a flask. But now, you’re helping a friend in need. For the first time in a long time, it feels like you’re doing something worthwhile with your life. Too bad Min Yoongi, the newest thorn in your side, seems insistent on stopping you. 『 series masterlist 』

✧ TEASER WARNINGS: none!

✧ AUTHOR'S NOTE: ask and you shall receive! i still don't have a set drop date for this chapter, but i wanted to post this short teaser for y'all anyway since you've been waiting so patiently. i am so thankful for all of the love i'm getting for this series already!!! chapter one is almost at 500 notes which is SO insane. i get so stupidly giddy every time i receive a reply, reblog, or an ask about this series! feedback and interaction keep me writing and i am so looking forward to what all of you think of this teaser. reminder that you can track the tag 'glossdebut updates' to stay updated on drop dates/word counts/etc.!

P.S. just like with all of my teasers, wording is subject to change when the chapter actually comes out <3

✧ TEASER WORDCOUNT: 481 words

✧ STATUS: ongoing

Yoongi hasn’t touched a cigarette since he was twenty one years old.

He picked up the nasty habit at sixteen, when one of his friends doled out African Ice Jacks amongst the group, bragging that his hyung had bought the pack for him. As soon as the lighter was flicked on and the bittersweet taste of bubblegum and tobacco filled Yoongi’s lungs, he was hooked.

It was stupidly easy to get his hands on cigarettes before he was of legal age, even when his friend’s hyung couldn’t supply them for whatever reason. All of the adults around him smoked, including his parents. 

It felt as though cigarettes were an extension of his hand, felt wrong when he didn’t have the option to light one up. During school hours, Yoongi’s fingers would twitch on his desk as he waited for his last class to end.

He was a fucking anxious, wound-up kid. Smoking was the only thing that helped, sometimes. If he had a shit day, at least he could have a cigarette.

When the band got signed, though, things changed. Despite the fact that the majority of the population in Korea smoked, celebrities were vilified for it in the media. For whatever fucking reason. Yoongi didn’t care much what the media had to say about him, but he reasoned that it would be pretty stupid to let his dream die over Ice Jacks. So he quit.

It was hard at first, but it’s been five years now. After so much time, it’s rare that cigarettes even cross his mind, even when others smoke around him.

Sitting across the table from you now, though, Yoongi’s fingers twitch just like they had when he was in grade school staring at a clock.

He and the band started frequenting Yoojung Sikdang long before there was any real hope for fame. It was their chosen spot after every practice. The ajumma who owns it knows their names, remembers their orders by heart. Over the years, the only part of the restaurant that’s changed is their autographed photos on the wall. They’ve celebrated every single milestone here, big or small, just the five of them. Alone.

Wrapping up their first world tour should be no different. It’s their biggest milestone yet, and all Yoongi wanted was to eat ssambap with his best friends. Remind himself that none of the fame matters as long as they still have this.

But here you are. Of course. Encroaching on everything Yoongi’s built, everything he holds dear to his heart.

The only time it’s ever been more than the five of them here was the night they signed their contract, accompanied by two label executives. Even if you’re allegedly riding Jeongguk’s dick, no way are you that fucking important.

Yoongi would laugh if he wasn’t so pissed off. You are such a fucking pest. He just can’t shake you off.

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