#but dorks nonetheless

[krenenbaker]

SDHAKJLFHSJDLAHJFDKA THIS IS SO MUCH BETTER THAN i ANTICIPATED!!!

Gosh, I expected them to be distressed, but this was a whoooolllllllllllle other level. My goodness. Misunderstandings central over here!!

The visceral pain the guys are all feeling, the violence that the Leech brothers are surely planning, the confusion, the stress that Sam's feeling about NOT HAVING SOMETHING, the TERROR that Najma was subjected to with no explanation... it's such a concept!

And Crewel being the only one to take a step back and look at what may be the actual meaning is just splendid.

Well, now the guys will need to learn a little bit about Earth biology, I guess... I wish them luck :)

*~Period Drama~*

A/N: This was a funny idea I had and Now I'm gonna do another series with my Yuu OC. Note that I write most of the cast in a platonic sense with my OC because that's how their story formed. I'm fully open to doing requests with characters in a romantic sense.

Word Count: 4.7K

Warnings: Period mentions, allusions to sexual assault (They are assumed, nothing actually happens), She/They OC Pronouns

Pairings: Azul/Reader (Poly), Jamil/Reader (Poly)

Enjoy!

Yuu was forgetting something, she knew she was. But sitting in her pjs on a Saturday morning, an over-filled bowl of sugary cereal in hand, she couldn't be bothered to really care.

It was shaping up to be a good day too. None of the staff needed her help with anything, her friends all had their club meetings, and the kitchen was stocked with easy-to-grab snacks for Grim. Literally, nothing could be wrong, but she still felt uneasy. They woke up feeling weary and oddly bloated.

With an inquisitive expression, she taps her spoon against her bowl. They really hoped they weren't going to spend all day in a strange sense of deja vu…

Then she sneezed and everything made sense. Yuu blinks, moving back to pull the seam of their pj pants, looking down as they groan. "Ah, shit…"

~*~*~*~*~*~

Azul loved Saturdays, they were his biggest money-maker days. Students came to the Mostro Lounge either to get a head start on homework, grab a drink after practice or clubs, or merely have a freshly cooked meal. It also was the day he had most of his workforce available so he could spare the time to walk around campus or catch up on his own paperwork.

But, what he's trying to do was gather his courage and think up a plausible enough reason for him to go visit his date-mate. Not that he usually needed one, they were vocal about how he was always a welcomed presence in their company.

But, Yuu had been…easily irked? Prickly? Upset. Yuu had been upset for most of the week but anyone who questioned their mood was quickly shot down. The prefect would then tensely state they weren’t mad and then questioned why people thought they were mad. Sure they had a very intense resting bitch face but who didn't at Night Raven (he's fairly certain you needed to either be handsome or have the most terrifying resting bitch face to be admitted to this school).

So he wasn't too pressed about his date-mate's mood until Floyd said something. He had come into the back office pouting of all things, saying 'Shrimpy smelled off'. They had also punched him when the eel merman attempted to pick them up, which wasn't normal.

Jade handled his twin, trying to cull Floyd’s decreasing mood, while Azul opened a few text chats to ask if anyone had caused Yuu reason to want to kill someone. The genuine confusion and concern that answered back only made him more uneasy.

Now, on a sunny Saturday, Azul made the long journey toward Ramshackle. With an obscure board game tucked under his arm and a bag of exclusive gummy candy in hand, he was on a mission to improve his dear pearl’s mood.

Or he was until he was suddenly being dragged down the dirt road in a different direction. He yelped and shouted, trying to angle himself it see what was pulling him in the mud and sticks. The answer was Sam’s shadows, the black willowy wisps quickly yanking him into the shop and setting him on his feet. Azul looks down at his outfit, scowling at seeing the dirt and grass stains. Sevens, did he rip his slacks?

“Lil fish.”

Azul jolts, eyes wide and semi-fearful at Sam’s echoing tone. The man stood behind the counter, a number of medical supplies thrown across the surface as his nails gripped at the wood. Sam’s eyes were wide, pupils pinprick as his amethyst orbs almost glowed under all the shadows. Speaking of shadows…Azul looks around the shop, feeling actual fear stir in him. The shadows were everywhere, zipping through the aisles, slithering in and out of the back room, and some were even racing out of the shop, “Uh…Yes, Sam? H-how can I be of assistance?” He didn’t stutter, he refuses to admit he stuttered.

“Do you know what a pad is?”

…

“Like…Like a notepad or-”

“NO!” Sam slams his fist onto the counter, the lights of the near-endless shop flickering wildly at the force of it. He rests his face in his hands, paying no mind to his makeup and hat that fell to the counter. Looking up, his intense stare was replaced with one of desperation, “You’re killing me here, kid. Look, if you know what a damn pad is, just tell me where to get one! I know you and the lil pup talk!”

“I swear, I have no clue what you’re talking about sir.” Sevens, had Azul ever felt scared of Sam? He didn’t like this, why was his fellow businessman so frazzled? What kind of pad was he talking about? Why couldn’t he find it and assumed Azul would know where and what the damn thing was?

Sam groans, hands running furiously through purple-tinted lock braids. With a snap of his fingers, the wisps all stop. Either quickly entering the shop or bleeding into the shadows to hide once more, “Look just…Go see the prefect. They called me asking for sanitation pads? That’s the business name they told me anyway…That and just…a lot of pain potions.”

Azul clicked out of his confusion, growing nervous at the potions request, “I…wait are they hurt? Shouldn’t they be in the infirmary?”

“I suggested that, but they insisted they didn’t need to go, just the potions. I’m sending them over soon, Crewel is due to deliver my order in an hour or two. I’ll send him over after ya once he gets here.” Sam grumbles under his breath as Azul rushes out of the store. ‘Primadonna dog hates when I call him while he’s brewing…’

Azul pulls his phone from his pocket, sending a text to both Jade and Floyd. Yuu was in pain, they had requested something called a ‘sanitation pad’? Whatever those were. By the name he could only guess they were used for cleaning of some kind. He sent the twins a message to meet him at Ramshackle ASAP, potentially 119 status. Yuu had always joked about them being the first ones they’d call if they needed to hide a body. But, it seemed when it came time for them to actually make the call, the poor thing must be terrified. He could only think they had done it in self-defense, but the cause didn’t matter. There wasn’t going to be a body in a few hours.

Halfway through the woods to Ramshackle, he hears other footsteps hurrying to catch him. Looking over his shoulder, he raises an eyebrow, “Why are they here?”

Ace, Deuce, and Jamil all kept a quick jog behind Floyd and Jade’s long-legged walk. Floyd rolled his eyes, pointing behind him with his thumb, “I was at practice. Crabby and Sea Snake saw the text and wanna help lil Shrimpy too…”

Deuce raises a hand, "I saw them leaving the gym on my way to track practice. Yuu's my classmate and friend, it's only right I help them."

Jamil hisses under his breath, side-eyeing Azul as he sped up to walk beside him, “Plus, they’re my date-mate too, asshole…”

Rolling his eyes, Azul sighed, waving Jamil’s attitude off, “Yes, yes. We can meet with Draconia later about our timeshare lover. But for now, we need to go and assist them with the dead body I’m sure is on their property.”

Ace sighs, relaxing more as he leans back, arms folding behind his head, “Yuu finally did it, huh?”

“I mean…They can only threaten something so many times before they’d snap…” Deuce pipes up, rubbing the back of his head, almost dreading getting blood on his uniform again.

Floyd giggled, “I can’t wait to see who Shrimpy squeezed~. I bet they made it real messy!”

“Hmm…I wouldn’t put it past Yuu to kill someone via strangulation. But their MO seems to lean more toward bludgeoning.” Jade smiles to the group, eyes closing in barely hidden glee, “If anything clean up will be easy if we’re just dealing with some blood splatter and a puddle!”

 Ace and Deuce wince, watching Floyd, Azul, and Jamil simply nod at Jade’s examination.

The mood was instantly broken once they saw Ramshakle. Floyd and Jade tensed, their smiles dropping off their faces before racing toward the dorm as two teal-colored blurs. Azul shouted, only to choke on his tongue at the smell. Blood. His nose wasn’t anywhere as sensitive as Floyd's or Jade’s but even at this distance, he could smell the sharp iron smell. He jogged to catch up with his dormmates, his expression of panic causing the other three to speed up as well.

All he could smell was Yuu’s blood. Sharp and salty, but spiced and sweet because of their diet. A hint of some type of alien fragrance that no one could place and Yuu couldn’t name mixing it all together perfectly. And that was all he was smelling, not even a hint of another person’s blood.

When the rest of the group had made it to the front porch, Floyd was pounding on the door, eyebrows creased while Jade searched the bushes for the hidden key, “Shrimpy! Open up! Shrimpy!”

Jade’s fingers had just grazed the false rock when the door’s locks clicked open. Floyd swung the door so hard it nearly sent Grim into the hallway wall. The feline monster kept to the ground, eyes wide and teary with fear, “Yuu’s bleeding all over everything and they won’t tell me why!”

Deuce was the only one who had the mindset to scoop Grim into his arms, the rest of them instantly rushing up the stairs toward Yuu’s bedroom. The sound of their footsteps pounding on the floor echoing in the house, each of them calling out in panicked voices. Azul could only grow increasingly worried, the scent of blood growing stronger and stronger.

Jade slams the door open, Ace instantly diving into the bed and startling Yuu awake.

“The-The fuck- hello?”

Ace cupped their face, using what medical lessons Riddle had drilled into his head to see if they had a visible injury, “Yuu! Can you hear me? We were calling you all the way downstairs- Ay!” He tumbles off the bed when Yuu shoves him aside, black eyes glaring down at the redhead.

“Yeah, I was sleeping. Why are all of you in my house?”

“We smelled blood shrimpy!” Floyd kneeled onto the bed, sniffing around trying to find the main source of blood. Ignoring or nipping at Yuu’s hands trying to shove his face away from her body.

Azul stepped forward, eyes roaming in barely concealed haste, “Sam sent me over. He was worried by a request you had called him about? It’s sent him positively spiraling.”

Yuu raises an eyebrow, having given up on getting Floyd off their bed and wrapping an arm around him, “Yeah I was about to ask. Octobaby, what truck did you get dragged behind and did you at least get the license plate?”

Whatever positive flow of atmosphere that was building ended, Floyd grasping the duvet covering them and pulling, “Shrimpy, where are you bleeding-”

A single tug was all it took for Yuu’s bottom half to be flashed. They all look in stunned silence. Bright red blood on a series of towels under them, a smear on the inside of their bare legs. Yuu shouts but none of them respond, minds spiraling at what could have possibly happened.

“Floyd! By the seven, I’m not wearing any pants!” Yuu snatches the blanket back, draping it over their legs with a huff. They turn to Floyd only to have their face gripped harshly. Floyd stared at them with a dead expression, his single golden eye almost glowing with the force of his anger, “Floyd?”

“Who?”

“Wha-”

“Who?”

“Floyd.” Jade’s hands come into view, pulling Floyd’s grip off of their face and off the bed. Jade was no better, a pleasant smile on his face but eyes wide and void of any emotion, “It’ll do no good to pressure them into telling us. Let’s let our two professionals deal with this. The two of us can brainstorm methods of disposing of the unsavory culprit once we have a name or description.”

Yuu watched them slowly leave the room. Floyd just barely letting Jade pull him along as his expression started to finally morph into a look of anger. His fists clenched as he gritted his teeth, body so tense his movements were more shaky than his normal loose glide.

Looking beside them, Yuu catches eyes with Ace and Deuce. Ace quickly turned away, a hand covering his mouth as a single tear slid down his cheek and his shoulders shook. Deuce was no better, gripping Grim in his arms as he hiccuped softly with just barely contained sobs. He looked like he was fighting back the urge to go into 'delinquent mode'.

Jamil finally moves, a hand on each of Ace's and Deuce's shoulders, guiding them to the door. Softly pushing them out too once Jade had managed to pull Floyd out of the room, “Let us talk to them…We’ll…we’re gonna figure this out…”

Yuu watches stunned as Azul walks toward them as though he was approaching a wounded animal, softly, with just a hint of fear and pity, “Azul…What’s-?”

“It’s ok.” Jamil closed the door, still facing it so Yuu wasn’t sure if he was saying it to them or mumbling to himself, “It's…It’s ok, you’re gonna be fine…”

Azul had finally reached them and they could clearly see the unshed tears in his eyes, “It’s not your fault. This is not your fault, do you hear me?” He ran his fingers through their hair, his other hand gently cupping against her cheek as his thumb shakingly caressed their skin. He opens his mouth, closing his eyes while he sighs a shuddering sob. Gathering his wits again he opens his eyes, a fiery determination glowing in them, “We’re here for you, my pearl.”

“Wha…?” Yuu could only wrap their arms around Azul, the merman diving to embrace her in what had to be the most protective hold he could do with just his two arms. It felt safe and sturdy, like a cool blanket was wrapped around their body. While it was welcomed, Yuu only grew more confused feeling a wet spot start to form on their shoulder where Azul’s face had snuggled into, “I’m…very confused…”

“Yuu.”

If Azul wasn’t holding them, they would have jumped off the bed. Jamil stood right next to them with a blank expression. His face pulled into a mask of neutrality, but his eyes were steely, an ice-cold fire in them waiting to find a victim.

“Who. You can tell me, you can trust me. We’ll handle everything, you won't even have to look at the bastard unless you want to beat him to death yourself.” He kneels on the bed, his hand moving to touch her covered thigh before retreating, a pinched expression breaking his mask before it was back in place, “You have to tell us who did this to you, hayati.”

Did what to them?

Yuu stared at Jamil, blinking when he finally had to look away to bite his lip. He looked to be holding back tears, fully turning around to put his face in his hands to mutter under his breath. ‘How could he let this happen? Why couldn’t he have just one thing with nothing to ruin it?’ a teary sob of ‘Do they not trust him?’

“My pearl?” Azul pulls his face away from their shoulder, sniffling before he removes his glasses briefly to wipe his tears, “Do you…Would you like me to draw you a bath? This can’t be comfortable-”

“Azul!” Jamil whipped around, glaring at the merman, sparing them a worried glance before turning back to Azul and whispering heatedly, “They can’t take a bath until they get checked, you moron!”

“What’s there to check Jamil!? We can all clearly see what happened! Why put them through the extra…extra poking and defilement when we know what happened!?”

“Because we need evidence!”

“What we need is a name! Or a description! I’m not even going to entertain the idea of bringing this to a court. We have plenty of manpower on campus to bury whoever did this 12 times over.”

“Excuse me, what the fuck are you guys talking about?” Yuu spoke up, eyes glancing between the two of them, “Because if you mean the bleeding, that’s pretty standard at this point.” Maybe they just…forgot they had a vagina? Boys normally didn’t react well to period talk in the first place, but this was an all-boy school and Yuu was more non-gendered than female-gendered. Maybe they just honestly forgot.

But, what they said had only made things worse, both Azul and Jamil looking at them in absolute horror. Standard. This was normal. This had happened multiple times already.

Azul starts to openly sob, wrapping himself around them in a way to keep everything else away, nuzzling his head into her neck and whimpering out apologies. Jamil covered his mouth, a look that Yuu could only call devastation on his face before he stood from the bed to pace the room. Mutters grew in volume and speed before Yuu finally realized what they thought had happened.

“Oh. OH!” They quickly pull Azul from their neck, hands pressed to both his cheeks to keep him looking into their eyes, “Sevens! Guys no! That isn’t what this is, I promise! No one hurt me like that!”

“You expect us to believe that!?” Jamil turns on them, eyes wild and red with held-back tears. He gestures to the bed, alluding to the mess of blood under the covers, “What else could this possibly be!? Why are you trying to defend them!?”

“Jamil, I’m on my period!” Yuu looked back at Azull once her words seemed to hit Jamil, “It’s just my period. No one hurt me. I’m…well, not fine. Periods are a bitch. But not that…I swear it wasn’t that.”

No one made a sound past Azul’s labored breathing, the merman’s expression slowly morphing from one of despair into confusion. Once his breathing was finally under control, he pulled Yuu’s hands from his face, a single brow raised, “Your…your period?”

“Yeah…It’s just my period.”

“...Like the punctuation?”

Yuu frowned, turning to Jamil, “Don’t you act fucking dumb with me.” Pressing a kiss to Azul’s forehead, letting him slump against their chest, not seeing the gears turning in his head, “You and your sister are basically the same petty soul shared between two bodies. You know what a period is Jamil.”

The two mages catch eyes across the room, both…so painfully confused. Azul takes his time to finally untangle from Yuu, giving a small smile and patting hesitantly at the blanket, “O-okay…A period…right?”

At Yuu’s annoyed nod, Jamil sniffs, checking that he hadn’t cried before looking over to the door, “And…Najma will know. You’re sure she will?”

“I mean basically every girl gets a period so I would think so Jamil…”

The two boys share another look, communicating in a way Yuu hadn’t learned to do with them yet before they turn back to them with those soft, weak smiles. Azul caresses their face again, saying they should go back to sleep and that someone will bring up something to eat later on. It was slow, they clearly didn’t want to leave, but they both closed the door behind them. They share another look in the hallway, nodding before moving to regroup with the others.

The contained chaos they walk in on was almost comical if the reason wasn’t so mortifying. Jade had a hand gripped on each of Floyd’s shoulders while they took up the loveseat, whispering to the taller eel as he held him back. The whispers growing in intensity as his eyes widened in manic glee every time Floyd growled and moved to pull out of his brother’s hold. Ace was leaning against the wall, anger clear on his face as his nails bit into his forearms. He was the only one who looked up when they walked into the room. Deuce sat on the couch, curled around who they could only think was Grim, his shoulders shaking with barely contained cries.

Ace speaks up first, calling everyone else’s attention to their entry, “Well? Who’s the bastard we’re hunting down?”

Jamil and Azul pause, Jamil looking to the side and sighing, “They say nothing happened-”

“They’re lying!” Grim cries from Deuce’s arms. 

The spade Heartslabyul soldier sniffles, raising his head to look from over the couch, “Grim said they’ve been bleeding since this morning. From before he woke up…”

Jamil pulled out his phone, already dialing his sister, “They said Najma would know what’s going on…They were…so sure nothing…happened…”

Ace opened his mouth to yell only to be cut off at the sound of Najma picking up the line on speakerphone.

“Jamil? What’s wrong, you never call me?”

“...” Jamil gulped, gripping his phone before speaking, “Najma, I need you to be completely honest with me. Swear on your life levels of seriousness. Do you know what a period is?”

“...Like the punctuation?”

Azul bit his lips, a hand moving to cover his mouth and start to pace around the room. He walks closer to Jade and Floyd to explain, the two eels listening to his quick words in clear confusion.

“I…Najma, something happened. Is it…normal to…” He let out another sigh, almost wishing it would take his soul with it, “Is it normal to bleed…out of your vagina?”

The beat of silence almost gave Jamil hope. Maybe it was some super secret girl thing that no male was allowed to ever know about. Maybe everyone in the room would have to be killed once Najma confirmed its existence. He knows he would at least prefer that over the alternative.

“Jamil, what the fuck? No!? No, that's not normal!? Jamil who do you know that’s bleeding out of their-”

“Don’t have time, I’ll call you back once this is all settled.” He’s never hung a phone up so fast. It quickly rings again, but he just declines Najma’s call and silences his phone. Now looking around, everyone else in the room is just as confused if not more so than he and Azul were.

“...What?” Jade tilts his head to the same degree his brother does while they both study Jamil, each trying to find…something in the conversation they just heard.

Azul spoke up, leaning his elbow against the fireplace, a hand coming up to rub at his temple, “They said they were simply on their period and that this was normal. They were also very certain Najma would confirm this sentiment, claiming it was a natural thing girls did.”

Deuce sat in thought, his brain working overtime to try and piece together the information they had, “Maybe…Uh…Wait, I can ask my mom!”

“What is your mom gonna know, Deuce!?” Ace hissed, more frustrated than actually angry.

“I don’t know, she’s like an older girl? Maybe she knows more about it than Najma would?”

“...” Jade looks toward Azul with a shrug, “It’s another source of information. We’re literally going in blind with this.” He looks down in worry, feeling Floyd relax in his arms. His brother wasn’t calm by any means, more so his mood had finally reached so low that his homicidal urges couldn’t properly latch onto it. He just kept Floyd in his arms, holding his taller brother under his arms as though he was a cat.

Deuce pulls out his phone with one hand, the other keeping a grip on Grim as the monster whines. It only took a very rings before the phone was answered again.

“Hi, Deuce! I was just about to send you a text. I found this new cafe and they make the cutest parfaits-”

“Mom, that’s cool. Send me a picture later but. Um…I got a really weird and private question to ask you-”

“Deuce, we talked about this sweetie. There’s nothing wrong with liking certain things-”

“NOT THAT, NOT THAT!” He blushes, quickly cupping his phone away from view of the others. He whispers his question into the receiver, waiting with bated breath when the other line was quiet.

“Sweetie. Am I on speaker?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“That isn’t…that isn’t something that should be happening. Is this…Deuce, is this about your friend Yuu?” At the affirmative, she continued, “I know you said they weren’t from around…anywhere really. But you boys need to tell your teachers about this. Whoever told them this was normal lied to them.”

The nervousness returns, everyone sharing a look, Deuce thanking his mom before hanging up the phone. Pass the stray sigh or muffled rambles no one spoke, each one of them was scared to voice their theories. Everything easily pointed toward…assault. But Yuu was such a level of certain that it was hard to deny the doubt that grew at the idea. There were magical ways of getting the truth out of people. But none of them wanted to break the trust Yuu had given to them. Not to mention the small chance that something did happen, and forcing Yuu to recount the horrible situation was cruel even by Night Raven standards if they were trying to actively suppress it. 

It seemed like they sat in silence for hours before they all heard the front door slam open, footsteps quickly stepping through the hall before a signature black and white coat filled the doorway. Crewel stood with one hand on his hip, the other impatiently tapping his crop against his leg.

“Ok, what’s going on? I’ve had students running around terrified from Sam’s shadows. I go to see Sam to ask about it and he informs me that he sent you runts to check on my puppy.” Crewel looks around the room, his frown turning into a scowl before he schools his expression again, “And there's no sign of my puppy in this pack of dogs, so what’s happened?”

After a prolonged silence, Ace groaned, deciding to bite the bullet since no one else wanted to, “Yuu’s bleeding from…from their vag and won't tell us why.”

…

“...” Crewel stepped to the side, light gray eyes seeming to look past all of them while he used his crop to point down the hall, “Get out.”

“Sensei-”

“Get. Out.”

The scramble they did out of the room was like a pack of dogs released into the wild, each of them refusing to meet the glacier-level stare of their teacher as they ran past. They didn’t leave Ramshackle property, choosing to instead stand outside and wait to be fully dismissed.

Crewel took the stairs two at a time, flinging Yuu’s bedroom door open. The sound of it slamming into the wall made Yuu groan in protest. He walks to the bed and sits, a hand instantly brushing their bangs back to alert them to his presence. He couldn't tell through his gloves, but they had seemed flushed, “Puppy? Puppy, talk to me. What's happening? I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Yuu hums, just barely getting back to sleep before Crewel woke them up again. A hand pressed to their lower stomach and grumbled, “Hmmmm….Period…” “...Pup. What’s a period, explain it to me.” He keeps his hand in their hair, petting in a way to soothe both of them if needed. Period, Yuu clearly wasn’t talking about punctuation. All his mind could reach then was that period was speaking of a state of time. Meaning this was something that happened on some type of schedule.

Groaning, Yuu sits up, letting her head rest against Crewel’s shoulder, “Period, monthly bleed and all that. It’s girl stuff, you know biology, Crewel…”

Taking her in his arms, Crewel rubs at their back. Monthly…It’s at times Crewel is made painfully aware of how lacking he and the rest of Night Raven College are in knowledge about Yuu’s biology. “Yuu…That’s not a thing in Twisted Wonderland.” He can feel the moment they tense up, letting them pull back to look at him.

Yuu stares at their pseudo-father, eyes searching for some sign of the past hour being nothing but a really bad joke. Seeing none, they feel a cold realization hit, “Oh…Well, this is gonna be a real interesting time…”

[creative-clawmarks]

I think about ToTheArk physically making their videos and I dunno something about it makes me smile.

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

COMMISSIONS

[palabraasinnecesarias]

“Then let’s get married.”

ao3 | ff.net

ship: ranma/akane words: 2,159

warnings: hormonal idiots

“We’ll have to wait until we’re married.”  “Then let’s get married.”  “We will.” “Tomorrow.” She laughed, amused to be hearing him say such things, “We can’t do that.”  “Sure, we can.”

Ranma Saotome wasn’t one for showing affection so easily; it might have something to do with the way he was raised, or rather with the man who raised him. There was some sort of vulnerability that came with the territory of letting his guard down, and in a world where he needed to ensure all his grounds were covered, there was never any room for emotional attachments. 

Of course, that changed when the duo of father and son were welcomed into the Tendo household, in the promise of unity through marriage. Such an absurd idea – considering that at that time they were just sixteen-year-old idiots.  

But somehow, not quite sure understanding how it happened, Ranma couldn’t help but allow himself to admire his fiancée as she mindlessly pouted her bottom lip momentarily, lost in thought it seemed.  

Akane bounced the eraser of her pencil against her opened textbook, scrunching her eyebrows as she read silently, rather enthralled by whatever the pages had to say as his keen sight noticed the way she mouthed every word in a hushed manner. He had taken over her bed, laying quite comfortably with one leg over the other, pretending to read the manga in his hands (although he knew the panels by heart, due to how many times he’s read the volume).  

He had been fascinated by the fact that after high school Akane had willingly continued her education well into university, rather than take over the dojo with him.  

It was settled, according to their parents – he was to wed Akane by the end of the upcoming spring semester.  

Akane had urged him to meet her inside her bedroom a few years back and asked him if it would be okay if they married after she graduated university, rather than in the next two weeks after finishing high school. He had appreciated that she had gone to him and asked, valuing what he had to say, it seemed. He agreed and introduced the idea to their parents.  

Of course, that was more than a year away, considering she was just finishing her third year. In fact, finals were just around the corner, and she dedicated herself fully to her studies, which usually consisted of a couple hours inside her bedroom. Normally, Ranma wasn’t welcomed into her bedroom during these times. After some persuasion, knowing he only wanted access into her bedroom because he wasn’t allowed, she caved.  

He came to find that her panicked outbursts against upcoming assignments were enough convincing that the college lifestyle was never going to be for him. He had also learned that she took her education career quite seriously when he tried to strike up conversation during her study time, and she simply kicked him out. He wasn’t allowed back in for days, making him feel like some child, and he promised that this time he wouldn’t disturb her focus.  

Ranma considered Akane smart, not a brainiac by any means, but a bright person and far more intellectual when it came to her studies. He didn’t quite understand why she allowed herself to freak out each time exams were coming up (having been a witness in previous years, and more recently throughout her midterms). Although, after earning her passing score, and she came home with a giant sigh of relief, he couldn’t help but feel his own chest release all the tension he hadn’t known he’d been carrying along with her.  

He pressed his manga against his chest as Akane exasperated a breath, setting her pencil down and stretching her arms high. She glanced at Ranma with a mild wince before smiling softly at him, “You’re really into that one,” she said referencing his book, now leaning back on her desk chair with a more relaxed ambiance.  

She was talking to him, that meant she was done studying for the night. It was pretty late, just past nine in the evening, and if Ranma knew any better he needed to start making his way down the hall towards his own bedroom and let her rest. But instead, like some puppy excited to play, the pigtail wearing martial artist quickly sat up and grinned at her, “Not as entertained as you are by that textbook.”  

Akane scoffed, rolling her eyes endearingly as she tensed her shoulders, “I mean, it’s not my ideal way of spending my evening,” she laughed shortly. He watched her begin to clean her desk as she bookmarked her page and closed the book, gathering her pencil and eraser into her pencil bag and then closing her journals. Now she was really done for the night.  

And, as if on cue, Akane felt herself get pulled onto the bed to land perfectly on his lap. Although she had been expecting him to hurry her, his movement had been done so swiftly and quietly, it took her a few blinks to realize where she was. His arms hooked around her back, and she was trying her best to hold in some laughter, feeling like some child sneaking sweets before dinner. “Geez, Ranma,” her voice was quiet now, captivating as she wrinkled her nose at him in a playful manner, “if you want me this close, all you have to do is ask.”  

He smacked the tip of his tongue against the roof of his mouth, smiling quite mischievously at her as he replied, “Where’s the fun in that, ‘Kane.” And then he kissed her.  

His lips pressed softly against her plumped ones, feeling bliss at the flare that trailed throughout his face and down his neck; especially when he could feel her hands reach to hold onto his top, senselessly playing with the golden frog buttons. He could taste her fainted cherry balm, more prominent when he’d glaze his tongue against her mouth, his grip firming when she’d squirm in surprise.  

She grinned against his kiss, but her heart never failed to feel as though it were going to beat out of her chest.  

The room was quiet, and for a moment the only thing that was audible had been the way their lip-smacking noises echoed silently with every kiss, until Akane managed to pull away so she could breathe. She panted deeply, unaware of how swollen her mouth was and at the speed that her chest rose with every short breath she took. It was as if he wanted to eat her, and she couldn’t keep up. “Ranma,” she whispered, her hands reaching up to push strands of his messy fringe behind his ears, “you should probably go to bed.”  

“Are ya’ tired?” he asked, sincerely, his large blue eyes bouncing about her face, feeling his heart squeeze when she smiled softly at him and her cheeks only got rounder, showing off her rosy tint.   

“No, but you’ve got that class in the morning.” He was teaching Introduction into Anything Goes Martial Arts to a class of toddlers, there was only so much he could really teach.  

“Are you kicking me out?” He challenged, and she couldn’t help but let out a charmingly musical laugh.  

How did she do that? She had the sorcery of bewitching him so easily, just by smiling, he felt like a feeble, helpless man at her bidding. He snugged his face at the crook of her neck, his arms tightening their hold as he relished her subtle fragrance that was wearing off and now faintly mixing with her natural scent. He wanted to remain in her hold, forever, if she’d let him. Emotions were to be considered a weakness, turn one fragile, but he was too lost to recuperate against her charm.  

She was warm and cozy, and just where he needed to be. He could feel her take a deep breath before her arms hovered over his shoulders, her hands reaching for his braid and gently tugging at the tie before detangling it. She was now running her fingers through his hair, every now and then daintily scratching his scalp, and oh god, it felt so good. He could fall asleep in her arms all too easily.  

It was nice, staying within her embrace as they talked for a while; not a long time, just enough that she believed he was beginning to doze off.  

When he pulled away, she was grinning at him like some dork, teasing his dazed look, and all he could think about was how much he wanted her. He kissed her again, and although it surprised her, she welcomed it. This kiss was rougher, she noticed, and a tad more desperate, her mind felt like it was turning into putty at the way his mouth caressed hers.  

She almost didn’t notice the way he began adjusting her atop her bed, laying her completely with him on top. She broke off the kiss, gasping loudly as she pulled away, trying her best not to release any embarrassing sounds when Ranma’s lips dragged across her cheek and onto her jaw, gnawing at her flesh. “Ran-Ranma,” she heaved as her eyes rolled backwards, his hands now traveling up and down at the side of her body, “wait,” she tried to say. But his knee was already nudging her legs apart, and she couldn’t stop her hips from rising against his thigh.  

Oh, god, she could feel a flame ignite at the pit of her stomach, her arms freely reaching to hold onto his hair as she gasped again. He was kissing her neck now, clasping her mouth shut as she held her bottom lip with her teeth, unable to muffle the mild groan that crawled up her throat.  

Everything he was doing to her – kissing her, touching her, softly grinding his body against hers, as she reciprocated with her own jolt against his hips – fogged her mind into a blithe disregard for just a mere moment that her bedroom door hadn’t been locked and anyone could barge in. But she really liked the way he was giving her neck attention.  

Akane gasped louder at the way Ranma arranged himself to gently straddle her hips, observing her reaction, which had been one he savored as her eyes offered a hazy gleam when she felt his body mount hers. He leaned down and hovered his mouth over hers, and for a moment she hadn’t known where his breathing began and hers ended. He didn’t do anything, didn’t move aside from pecking her lips again, every day finding it harder to resist her beauty.  

He wanted to possess her in a way he hadn’t known possible, and having her so close as she looked at him the way she was now, his blood boiled with desire. He smiled meekly at the way she felt her hands hook themselves behind his back, pulling him for another kiss. It was slow, and passive, although still very fierce and wet.  

He grinded back, almost timidly, and this time she did moan into his mouth. Her eyes rolled again, and her chest pressed against his when she pulled him closer to her. “Ranma,” she inhaled deeply, hiding her face against his chest when he thrusted forward. The way his name rolled out of her tongue aroused him immensely; he couldn’t resist his urge to do it again. And he knew, if he continued, he’d find it hard to stop.  

Akane’s arms embraced him firmly, "We need to stop,” she murmured onto his skin, quite disappointed at herself for knowing better.  

“Already?” He joked, and she couldn’t help but grin at herself, having some sort of satisfaction in knowing she provoked such urges within him, but keeping up with his stamina proved to be hard to do at times.  

He rolled off her, carefully, laying on his back, staring at the ceiling for a moment before shutting his eyes and breathing in deeply. Akane curled next to him, resting her chin atop his chest before she said, “We’ll have to wait until we’re married.”  

“Then let’s get married.”  

“We will.” 

“Tomorrow.” 

She laughed, amused to be hearing him say such things, “We can’t do that.”  

“Sure, we can.” He was looking at her now, a wicked smirk challenging her and she doesn't quite know if he's serious or not. “Ya’ve said it before, ‘Kane, ya’ love me, and well, you know how I feel...”  

“That you love me all the way to the moon and back?” She teased, a playful smile taunting him before snorting, quite obvious that she was dramatizing his confession, but it was always nice to hear it again once in a while.  

“Exactly,” he grinned.  

She simply rolled her eyes and called him an idiot, affectionately, of course. And when she looked at the time she rushed him out of her bedroom, through the window in case someone was in the hallway. He had been with her for far too long, even if he insisted otherwise. But just as he was about to crawl out of her window, he kissed her again, quickly saying, “For the road.”  

“Go take a shower, you dope.”  

[paradife-loft]

also while I'm dork soul posting

been really leaning in lately to the concept of anvha chosenundead's story as a disillusionment arc much like the other npcs'? anvha isn't an oc I've talked about much/at all, but teal deer she's a bit.... undersocialized feral outcast who powers through approximately everything out of raw spite and takes great satisfaction in shoving an occult blade up into various deities' ribcages.

and I think there's still, under that, a bit of a longing for something, some legacy of the past, something passed down from the ~glory days of old when magic was free and powerful, before the world was dying, - that she might be able to find and take as an alternative tradition she could belong to. but there really just... isn't. nothing in the past that she can lionize while also squaring it away with her humanness, which she refuses to see as scary and bad and dangerous the way everyone else seems to want to.

everything that once was has nonetheless decayed into a ruin. everyone who did great things, interesting things, things she might want to become an heir to... ultimately still feared a world without the first flame. still tried to cling to a world that wouldn't, inevitably, change into something new. and the ones who didn't, still failed in a spectacularly destructive fashion.

so a serpent wants her to be on fire. a serpent wants her to be the dark lord. anvha just wants to be interested in the world, and allowed to study it and learn and be creative and observe while things evolve, and not be viewed as some kind of existential anathema to be contained away from the right people who really matter.

and there's just not a lot out there she can point to that shares those aspirations and values, is there.

[aroace-number-eight]

Can we bring back goofy lovesick John headcanons I think I miss that

[bluebelleisabelle]

Picture from What’s Up, Watzie? :)

JDHDJDJHD OMG I'M GONNA CRY IT'S SO CUTE

[kingdomoftyto]

Character bingo: Phoenix from Ace Attorney.

realized halfway through that I would get an easy bingo for Miles so I did both of them, my blog mY RULES

[helplessavacado]

my two favorite things in the whole world: Dwarves and Space

I know we only see the side of his face but your space!dwarf version of Dwalin has enraptured me. I love his nervous looks and little blue earring/gauge thing

That was really fun to draw. And his tattoos and earrings are also supposed to be glowing by the way. I am gonna draw the whole dwarven squad eventually. Here I used Ereborian armor, but I yet need to think how to design space armor properly.

[luveline]

jade my lovely, i would kill for more early season spencer and bombshell!reader. i love them sm!! (i also love seeing the mentions of elle, like that’s my bbg)

“You aren’t still mad.”

You take a sip of your coffee and refuse to answer. 

Elle rolls her eyes. It’s unrestrained, as is her deep sigh. “Whatever.” 

You drink more coffee. Think about it, can’t contain it, “Whatever yourself, Greenaway.” 

“I want it just as bad as you do.” 

“But I’m better.” 

“You’re not better. You’re less likeable, there’s a difference.” 

You weren’t surprised when they chose Elle for the open BAU position, but you were gutted nonetheless. Pretending it doesn’t bother you comes easily, just not when she’s rubbing it in your face. “Can you leave that?” 

She hands over the stapler she’d been about to put in her cardboard. You don’t own one, and you decide to forgive her when she hands it to you without argument. “You want anything else?” 

“No, it’ll just remind me of you.” You sniff. 

“At least you’ll have an empty desk beside yours for a while. It’ll be good for your afternoon meditation.” 

“Hopefully, they’ll fill your absence with a very attractive new recruit.” You’d like that, a hottie to crush on. Now Elle’s leaving, you’ll have no one to project your fantasies on to make it through the work day. “How will you cope?”

“What, without you?” Elle asks. 

“With all the BAU hotties. Everybody on that team is maddeningly attractive,” you say with a put upon swoon, back of your hand curled and thrown to land against your forehead. 

“I didn’t realise you felt that way about Jason Gideon. Perhaps if you’d made that known, you’d be packing your desk up instead of me,” Elle laughs. 

“Well, maybe not Gideon. But the rest of them. Derek… if you take him seriously, he’s gorgeous. And Hotch–”

“He’s married. And older than us by ten years.” 

“He’s handsome, is what he is. So quietly funny and moody. I’m not telling you to ruin his marriage, I’m just saying he’s distracting.” 

“And Spencer Reid?” she asks. 

You grin. “He’s cute.” 

“Morgan said you asked him out for coffee?” 

“He wanted to tell me about water bugs.” It was sudden but sweet, he’d started a tangent on how they can walk on water because they’re small and hydrophobic, then asked if you really wanted to know, which you did. 

“He’s cute,” Elle says, raising her brows. 

“Have you seen him turn to the side? His jawline is ridiculous.” 

“He looks a little… dorky,” Elle says finally. She isn’t mean-spirited, just honest about her tastes. 

“I like dorks. And I really loved him, he was adorable. Derek’s been hazing him, so maybe you could be nicer? I think he really needs a friend.” 

“You don’t want to be that friend?” 

You smile. “I do. But I can’t exactly do that from Sex Crimes.” 

“Well, you can help me carry my stuff to the BAU. Come on.” 

“And look desperately needy? Is there anything worse than going where you’re not wanted?” 

“Morgan will be happy to see you. Maybe Dorky Spencer will be there to tend your BAU shaped wounds.” 

“You’re heartless, Greenaway.” 

You put your arms out obediently for her box. She grabs her jacket and her bag, gives her desk a last sweep, and turns away. It’s the last time she’ll ever sit at her desk in the Sex Crimes Unit, and it’s the most envious you’ve ever been of a friend. You want more than anything to be in her position. Profiling isn’t mythical to you, it’s a science you’ve studied, and you believe you could do it well if they just gave you time to learn on the job like they’ve done for Elle. 

But the position is filled. There’s no room left on the team. 

No need for a sex crimes expert now they’ve chosen Elle. 

You’re going to have to make yourself useful in other ways, or play politics, or, better, make friends. 

Hotch likes you, you know that, and Derek’s awesome. Gideon is the one you need to convince, but for some reason he’s totally sworn off of you. Luckily for you, he isn’t out in the BAU office when you enter, it’s just Derek, Spencer Reid, and Elle’s waiting desk. 

“Hi boys,” she greets. 

Derek turns. 

Spencer puts down his book. You meet his eyes. 

You’re far more flirty than Elle. “Hi, Derek. Hi, Dr. Reid.” 

Derek grins and takes Elle’s box from your arms. “Hi, girls. Happy moving day.” 

You don’t really want to talk about it, think about it, or come off as a jealous jerk, so you do a little bit of performance. “What are you reading?” you ask Spencer, pretending to be interested, hoping he’ll throw you a rope. You spot a familiar creature on the cover and your smile legitimises. “Is that about pond skaters?” 

“It’s Small Freshwater Creatures,” he says, shy but somehow firm, too. His tone changes as he relays facts. “It’s an identification guide, but it does talk about the specifics.”

“You really like bugs, huh?”

“I wanted to know more about it in case you came back.” 

You can’t help grinning. “That's really sweet,” you say earnestly, “did you learn anything new? You sounded like an expert already.” 

“They’re predators. They eat mosquito larvae.” 

“Oh, awesome, so if we had a few more pond skaters in the world we’d be better off.” 

You prop yourself on Spencer’s desk as he begins to rattle of facts and figures. Not too far away, Elle and Derek talk under their breaths. 

“Is it me, or is she into him?” Derek asks. 

“Maybe more than she realises.” Elle bites back a smile, stealing glances at you from over Derek’s shoulder. You’re more interested in what he has to say than anything she’s seen on you before. You lean in, your eyes bright. A little flirty, ever so slightly teasing, but genuine, too, as Spencer begins a quick spiel. 

“Well, he’s a goner,” Derek laughs. 

Elle doesn’t know about that. You don’t play with people’s hearts. 

There’s a teeny, tiny strand of shyness to you as you touch your neck. You begin rolling the chain links of your necklace along your finger, causing poor Dr. Reid to lose his train of thought. Two people entirely unaware of the road they’re embarking on. 

“Do you guys have a stapler?” Elle asks. “I lost mine in the divorce.” 

[meowkn]

“Don’t let the pieces fall on the carpet.” Jason mutters. He’s leaning back against the couch, with you sitting between his legs on the floor. His arms wrapped around your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder as you work on the new Lego set he bought the two of you.

“I’m not.” You huff, trying to focus as you worked on putting two pieces together. “Mind your business.” You add, though there was no real bite in your tone. Jason snorts, giving your shoulder a playful bite in response to your huff. “You know I always want to be all up in your business.” He teases, his arm tightening around your waist. He presses a light kiss to your neck. “I’m just making sure you don’t let any pieces go to waste.” He says against your skin.

“We need all these pieces or the car won’t be right, goofball.” He rolls his eyes, but it’s almost affectionate. “Yeah, yeah. Can’t have my girl putting together a half-assed Lego car.”

Jason watches over your shoulder as you focus on building, choosing to ignore his sentence. His hands rest on your hips, mindlessly kneading the soft flesh underneath your shirt. He offers suggestions and guidance as you assemble the pieces, unwanted, but, appreciated nonetheless. Every now and then, he mutters praise and compliments into your ear, enjoying the moment of domesticity, which he rarely gets to appreciate anymore.

“You’re doing great,” he whispers, his voice a low rumble in your ear. “I like watching you work, beautiful.”

“Should I buy the Star Wars Lego set next?” You murmur absentmindedly, your hands working diligently on the Legos. Jason’s eyes instantly light up like fireworks. “Oh hell yeah,” he says, his enthusiasm evident in his tone and the way his fingers squeeze at your hips. “Those sets are badass. We could build the Millennium Falcon or the Death Star. Or the Jedi Starfighter. Wait, no, the AT-AT Walker."

You couldn’t help but giggle as he listed off sets, shaking your head softly. He grins, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. “Your laugh is adorable.” He murmurs, pressing another soft kiss to your skin.

"And you're going to buy us the biggest, coolest Star Wars Lego set you can find. We're going to build a whole damn universe."

“We’re gonna have so much fun.” You giggle, feeding into his excitement. It was rare for you to see Jason so relaxed and excited about something, all you wanted to do was keep that smile on his face. You’d walk through the deepest pits in hell to keep him smiling.

“I have no doubt about that.” He replies, his hand wrapping around your waist, his palm splayed out on your stomach. "Building Legos, watching old movies, eating shitty pizza, and spending hours tangled up together. Sounds like my idea of heaven." He pulls you closer to him, pressing his chest against your back. "Can you imagine it already? Us, surrounded by a pile of Legos, trying to figure out which piece goes where. Hours passing by without us realizing it because we're so lost in each other's company." He has that dreamy look in his eyes, the one that reminds you that no matter how hard the world tries to harden him, to make him bitter, that he’s still that same lost boy who craves a little bit of love.

“You’re so dorky.” You laugh softly. Jason chuckles, the sound low in his chest. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, babe." He leans in, pressing a trail of soft kisses along your jawline. "You know you love my dorky side. After all," he continues, his lips moving down to your neck, "it's the dork who puts together the best Lego sets in town. And the dork who knows how to make you giggle and moan." His hands slide under the hem of your shirt, his touch warm and possessive against your skin. "And the dork who's gonna show you how much he appreciates you when we're finally done with this car."

“Stop it.” You say playfully, giggling at his touch, your mind slowly getting distracted from the car. Jason chuckles, his lips moving back up to your ear. "Not a chance, beautiful," he mumbles, his voice a sultry whisper. "You know I love making you laugh. And I really, really love it when I can hear all the noises you make when I have you all to myself."

[ozzgin]

I was wondering if you could write a yandere male orc x fem possessive vampire reader. They aren't together yet, but they're both courting each other secretly. Then, one night, the reader is watching her orcs' house and sees another woman delivering a courting gift, then attacks her and gives her as a gift to the orc

(Have a post talking about how I wanted someone to do it, thus from like months ago)

BTW, you are an incredible writer x.

It's not exactly a story per se, more of an idea, but your suggestion made me think of this kind of pairing:

Yandere!Orc with a Vampire!Reader, an unlikely but nonetheless successful match. The Orc is naturally imposing and protective, but otherwise laid-back and rather soft. Oh, he can get particularly vicious and aggressive when it comes to potential threats, but to you, he's a loyal servant.

Then you have Reader, a cute, gloomy vampire who is unsuspectingly feral. You'd think the scary orc boyfriend is doing all the killing, until you see her returning with bloodied hands, proudly announcing she just decimated her love rival.

Two obsessive dorks going after each other. A scary one, and a secretly scary one.

[gremlingottoosilly]

A bomb threat (And how it got you a boyfriend) special forces!Konig x fem!college!Reader

Konig saves you from a bomb threat when you get stuck at your Uni. Based on his bio - presumably, Konig was a part of the Austrian Special Forces before joining KorTac. He is also a bit of a dork and we have a bit of an obsessive episode.

Tags: Fluff, Reader is a cringefailure, Konig is overstepping his authority, hurt(not really)/comfort Warnings: Bomb threats, mentions of terrorism Word count: 2450

Someone called a bomb threat in your college. 

Well, at least, this is what the automatic email is telling you. The email that was sent to you, about especially avoiding the library on the second floor because the anonymous(not for long, since they have a knack for exposing who the hell is calling those threats each time) caller said that there is a huge chance of the bomb being placed here. 

You know, the same library that you were sitting in, right now, reading this exact email on your laptop. You thought no one was around because it wasn’t a busy day, just after the major finals, with most people staying on campus only if they failed first tests or just wanted to get extra credits for some extra curriculum. Even if you were staying here just because you wanted to work on campus’s newspaper – the library is a good place to scoop for some rumors about the dean of the uni being three raccoons in a trench coat, or the lunch staff posing as Polish mafia. 

The thing is – it seemed like you were the last fucking person to receive the email. The thing is, there are only a few weeks left before summer break, and the campus already started to turn off major announcement equipment since no sports or other events are planned. Are you going to die? Probably, there is a huge chance of you dying, as you can feel directly in your bones – god, there are probably some terrorists or uni shooters or that weird Christian suprematist who are going hysterical at the mere sight of religion other than theirs. You are going to die, you are going to die, you are going to…

— Scheisse! There is a civilian! 

You were never particularly religious, maybe only at the time of finals and work submissions – and in situations like this, where you are already mentally preparing yourself to get blown up with unfinished articles and forgotten hopes and dreams and everything and…

You were never particularly religious – so you have no idea why your pre-death auditory hallucinations suddenly included an angel’s voice with devil's timbre and some huge, tree-trunk-like hands wrapping around your waist, checking you for possible injuries or explosive device. 

These hands are really huge – and muscular, you can see how tense they are even through your black uniform, and they are roaming over your body in a way that would make you scream bloody murder and file sexual harassment if it didn’t belong to an obvious angel. Angelm in special forces uniform, an angel with a really nice boyish voice and warm hands that are sliding to your thighs, groping and checking for every possible outcome – for weapons, probably, because you are literally the only person in the room that was deemed as a bomb threat, and if you were this guy, you’d also think that you were the culprit. 

His fingers linger on your hips perhaps a bit too long – you can him patting you down like you were heading to a club – and then he lets you go reluctantly, not finding anything except for your phone which he also checked for possible timers. The interaction lasted…a minute or so, but you are already hot and bothered, getting off the strong hands holding you, even though he already let you go. 

— Are you alright? 

He must have noticed your worried face and international student badge – his English is a bit accented but nonetheless confident. You never thought that small traces of German in a speech can sound so fucking hot but, perhaps, you are just traumatized and high on adrenaline and weren't getting laid for too fucking long. 

He wears a badge – something something long German words, huge design construction that made you think he must be pretty high-rank – knowledge that you only had because of the movies and games you were playing, trying not to get off the military kink too much. Something in the situation told you that you’d spend the whole evening searching for porn with guys dressed in all black today. Maybe, a touch of cargo. 

— Y…yeah. Fuck, sorry. I’m fine, fine. Yeah. 

You are rambling and he tilts his head to the side. This large, looming hand goes to your face – you wait for either a harsh slap to return you back to reality, or a passionate and deep kiss from your fantasies and dirty novels. He slowly traces his fingers on your face, getting up, in the hairline, searching for something – perhaps, a nasty head parasite that got you acting so weird around this random guy. Random guy who is just doing his job, securing that you’re safe, sound, and not going to explode in the next few minutes. 

— No head injuries. Gut. 

You want him to touch your face some more. You want him to check for mouth injuries, to evaluate the status of your lips. Maybe do some chemical tests with that gloss you were using today. Check the reaction with his tongue. 

He twirls you in place and you almost want him to press you against the wall. Search you some more, maybe get his hands a bit deeper, pass the oh-so-modest pants that made you look like a little bitch boy – his hand goes to cup your waist again, checking for anything that might catch his interest. Nothing – and you were never this sad about Hot wearing a concealed weapon that might force him to pin you down or get you into a chokehold with those massive biceps of his. 

— What were you doing here, ma’am? 

Studying in Vienna, you never found an Austrian accent this sexy. Never knew that you might like being handled like this before – it’s not romantic, not even in the slightest, but you smile a bit shyly, a bit awkwardly, and look at him from under your lashes, trying to look as innocent as possible. You are innocent – you weren’t doing anything, you were just trying to study and write in the last few weeks. Concentrated enough, so you never even noticed a fucking bomb threat. Didn’t hear soldiers running through the building, securing each room. 

— I…study here? 

You gulp loudly, taking a few steps away from the soldier. Allowing him to examine the room, deem it safe – the bomb threat called on your university was probably fake. Maybe a call from a paranoid individual, maybe someone with nothing better to do than pranking colleges. You seriously doubt anyone would try to blow up this place while almost none of the students are actually inside – especially the library during the low season. Even you almost decided to ditch the traditional writing atmosphere and just do something in the cafeteria. 

— Oh. 

His voice actually sounds…nice. Funny even, that small remark also makes him cough and look at you more seriously. He has a mask concealing his face, some weird hood or net on top of it – you try to see his eyes, but you can only occasionally catch glimpses of ice staring at you. Mysterious, you like it. Too mysterious, that little journalist club member inside of you is itching to get a look at his face better – you tilt your head to the side, contemplating just yanking it upwards and praying that he won’t kill you. 

Although you wouldn’t mind being crushed in his hold. 

— Let’s get you out of here, ja? 

You don’t question him when he suddenly picks you up – when the world starts to spin and you are pressed against his chest, his hands are supporting you under your knees and back. Securing you in place, making sure you are nice and comfy in his hold. You don’t ask questions when he slightly adjusts your hold so he can touch more of your thighs – you think he is just getting you comfortable, and you appreciate just how thoughtful he is. 

You don’t ask questions when he holds you almost like a bridal carry, even though you are certain you aren’t injured, and someone like him probably has more interesting things to do than saving poor college students who decided to ignore bomb threats. 

His hands are warm, his chest is even warmer, and his muscles aren’t even slightly trembling. You don’t know what sort of training those guys are coming through, but it must work – his steps are light and decided even when he can’t press you firmly against him, vest standing in the way. You don’t know what to do with your hands and you don’t want to mess with the government property – you think there is a law against fidgeting with special forces soldiers on duty – so you just get them on your knees. Like a good girl. Polite girl. Girl who isn't drooling over the guy who is just doing his job. 

— Thank you. For saving me. 

You whisper it in his headset – you are worried about someone else also hearing you, but there is something intimate about tilting your head upwards and getting right into his face, your lips millimeters away from the edge of his mask. You don’t want to sound suggestive, so you sound weak instead. You don’t to sound ungrateful, so you sound pleading instead. 

His hold on your thighs gets stronger. You lick your lips nervously, chuckling to ease the atmosphere a little bit. 

Your leg brushes above his waist – and you swear that you can hear his breath hitching. It’s impossible, you think, he must be a tough and content little soldier, perfect to save damsels in distress just like you – but something in his posture, in the way his fingers twitch slightly at the edges of your body, makes you think otherwise. Maybe, you’re just dreaming. Maybe, you know nothing. 

Someone slams into the room. Another man – shorter than the one who holds you, by a large margin, but none less intimidating. Burly, muscular, dressed up in full uniform which is expected – and with his face covered up by a similar veil or mask or whatever this is – which is unexpected. You thought that special forces would have something less eye-obscuring, but what do you know? You would be dead if the bomb threat was real. 

— Other sectors secured. No bomb in sight. Commander. 

He almost hisses, the similar accent in his voice makes your cheeks heat up even more. You feel weird, dirty even, thinking of those two large, intimidating men in such an intimate setting while they are just trying to save your life – but you try to silence that little annoying voice, to convince yourself that this is probably just adrenaline, ovulation and sudden urge to procreate before you would die. 

You feel your entire body stir when the man takes a step closer, looking at you. You can’t see his face, not even the outline of it – but you feel the burning gaze on your scared expression and obediently folded hands. 

— Gut. Other civillians? — 20 civilians in the building in total. University workers, some students. Already evacuated. — Any casualties? You hear a cruel chuckle from a shorter man. — If they were, you’d hear about it, sir. No, the sector is clear. — Gut. Dismissed – we’re finishing here. — What are you doing with the civi…

— Kruger, dismissed. 

The man who holds you is surprisingly stern when he isn’t talking to you. He used a much softer, quieter tone when he was talking to you, observing if you were hurt or in danger – and he is much, much different now. A cold voice, serious tone, the image of the ruthless commander flying in your head – well, at least you were right about his patches meaning something important. 

A shorter man leaves, and the door behind him swings open. To your surprise, the man who holds you – a mysterious stranger, you can’t even seem to find a name on his uniform – doesn’t let you go. His touches feel like you’re burning alive, he is igniting and brilliant and fucking perfect and…

He lets you down to the care of the local police department and some of the uni workers. His hand brushes over your face again – you think he was checking for the injuries but, then again, why would he touch your hair ever so gently only to move it out of your face to take a good look at your lips before letting you go? You’re imagining things, you probably must be – the man is just doing his job, he isn’t trying to fuck you in the nearest hallway even if you wanted him to. 

— Sir. I…thank you, really. For the help. 

— I didn’t do anything, Schatz. Someone must been playing a joke on everyone. 

You are going to find the guy – or a girl, or someone else, you don’t discriminate, everyone is equally capable of calling on the false bomb threats – who informed the special forces about the bomb in the building, and then you are going to kiss them. 

— What kind of joke is this? 

— A dumb one. 

He looks over to his unit – a group of tall, burly men, with weapons and uniforms and everything a girl could ask for – already packing in the vehicles to move out. You brace yourself to ask for his number – for his contact, anything, everything, maybe the favorite tree in the park under which you could meet again. You know that those guys aren’t supposed to reveal their identities, that he is probably out of town anyway, special forces aren’t usually called off to false threats, you know that your attempts are futile and yet, you lick your lips for added confidence and…

— Goodbye, Scahtzen. Stay safe, ja? Don’t want to save you from a real bomb one day. 

— I…I…um, you mean you wouldn’t save me from a real bomb? 

He was already halfway to the armored car before you could say anything. You aren’t nearly confident enough to yell across the whole fucking campus territory to get a number of this hot special forces guy, and something in his hunched shoulders, twitching fingers, and slightly less social and more abrasive manners tells you that he would hate the gesture as much as you would. 

Just like this, your first even real-life military crush is driving away, leaving you bombless, hoeless, and, most certainly, more depressed than ever. Summer is going to be great, right?

*** — What do you mean calling a fucking bomb threat?! 

Your friend wasn’t happy about the pick-up strategy you wanted to use.

*** — Of course, sir, let’s raid a fucking college dorm room. 

Sergeant Sebastian Josed Krueger wasn’t happy about his commander’s newfound love for college girls. 

Mostly because König refused to fucking share. 

[impactrueno]

Do you think any other Lydia or BJ are more compatible (like, friendship) with another version of themselves? Like toon BJ and musical Lydia? (That example dosnt do this any justice now that I think about it, but you get the point)

well he got something somewhat close to musical lydia right here lmao

he thought she was awesome at first but she was too much of a troublemaker and bro simply cannot handle someone like him or worse. so maybe he'd feel something similar about musical lydia. and in turn i think she would find him a little corny lol but fun nonetheless. they wouldn't dislike each other, they're just not that compatible. musical bj and lydia are particularly hard to separate because of how tightly they're written and built around each other.

ever since i started working on my beetleverse comics i've become a big proponent of cartoon beetlejuice and movie lydia, and it's also the interaction people have been looking forward to the most. i think after meeting him (and yknow getting used to the idea of other beetlejuices) she would find herself wishing she had got him instead of her own bj. but noooooo, she got that creep instead.

if cartoon bj and movie lydia had met when she was a teen like in the first movie, they would've clicked like she did with the maitlands, only this guy is cooler than the maitlands because he's all the awesome horror things she likes while also being a funny dork. cartoon bj and lydia are, after all, based on what movie bj and lydia could've been if he hadn't been the villain doing his villainous things.

but them meeting in the beetleverse while she's an adult and both already having their respective counterparts to compare each other with....now that's another story. i'm not sure how much i want to give away here but let's just say movie bj better watch out.

[c0sm1c-c01nc1dence]

Red

✧ Pairing: Hunter x human!reader ✧

✧ Content/warnings: Soulmate AU, takes place during season 3, use of the word ‘damn’ once, the title is bland and I’m sorry, Hunter and the reader are both dorks, first post on here!! ✧

The “rules” for soulmates, as it were, were pretty straightforward. You see everything in the color of your soulmates eyes. Once you make eye contact with them you can see in full, proper colors. Seems simple enough, doesn’t it? Well, not for you, it wasn’t.

You, for the past sixteen or so years of your life, had been seeing nothing but red. Different shades, thank god, but red nonetheless. And to be frank, you were getting pretty damn fed up with it. The thing is that no one naturally has red eyes. And you would know; you’ve googled it maybe a thousand times already.

So you were fairly certain you didn’t have a soulmate, and this was all some cruel joke from the universe. But life marches on, so there’s no time to dwell on that, is there?

───── ───── ───── ─────

Another day at Gravesfield’s high school, bland as ever. At least until you caught a glance at your friend Luz. Rather, former friend. She’d been acting weird ever since she came back from that ‘reality check’ camp. And not standard Luz weird, no— she’d been avoiding you since then. Acting like she didn’t know you at all whenever you approached her, not to mention her sudden lack of interest in anything she used to like. The Good Witch Azura books, most notably.

So, needless to say, you were a bit surprised at her new look. Curly hair, a new scar over her eyebrow, and a general air of seasonal depression about her. Even though your recent interactions hadn’t gone so smoothly, you couldn’t help but ask. You were still allowed to care about her.

“Luz?” You called out from down the school hallway. She turned her head in your direction, and you could practically see the stars in her eyes when she saw you. She ran towards you, almost tackling you in a hug. Stumbling backwards, you hesitantly returned the gesture. “Good to see you too?” You awkwardly pat her back, unsure of what to do at the moment.

“Y/N, I am so glad to see you! Oh, you have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” She backed away and wiped a small tear from her eye.

“We saw each other yesterday, though?” You chuckled, still perplexed by this whole situation. “Seriously, what’s going on? You’re kinda acting like you just came back from war right now.” Her face fell slightly, but her smile quickly returned.

“Meet me at my house once school’s done, ok? I have… a lot to tell you.” You nodded, and watched her just walk away casually after that interaction.

“Cool. Good talk, I guess?”

───── ───── ───── ─────

“So, if I’m following,” You began, now in the Noceda family’s living room. “You didn’t go to summer camp, but instead spent several months in a fantasy world, and the Luz I’ve been interacting with is actually a shape-shifting basilisk.” You pointed to Vee, who nodded shyly. “And in this fantasy world you became a witch, made a bunch of new friends, and got a girlfriend.” You left out the details involving Belos and the Collector, deciding that you didn’t need to recap whatever nonsense was going on there.

“Yeah, actually. You’re handling this surprisingly well.” Luz noted.

“I think I’m still in shock, to be honest.” You laugh a bit in disbelief. You couldn’t begin to comprehend what she’d been through during those months, and you kind of didn’t want to. “So, more importantly, do I get to meet these new people?” You questioned, and her face brightened.

“Of course! They’re upstairs, so let me go get them and I’ll be right back.” You waited downstairs with Vee, exchanging basic small talk. She apologized for the whole ‘impersonating one of your few friends’ thing, which was nice of her. Eventually Luz came back, new friends and girlfriend following behind her.

“Alright! Everyone this is Y/N.” You gave a polite wave, quickly scanning over the group. “Y/N, this is Willow, Gus, Amity, and Hunter.” You got a proper look at all of them as she said their names, your eyes landing on the blond last. Wait a minute, blond?!

As it would turn out, when you made eye contact with Hunter you could suddenly see a lot more colors. He clearly noticed this as well, as a light blush was present on his cheeks and ears. You could feel some heat rise to your own face as well.

“Y/N, is everything okay?” Luz asked, noticing your stunned silence.

“I, uh…” you stumbled over your words like an idiot, still staring at him. Saving what little dignity you had left, your phone dinged from your pocket. Checking the notification, you gave an awkward smile and held it up to the group. “Oh! You know what, that’s my dad. He probably wants me home for dinner!” You put your phone back in your pocket, and began approaching the door. “I’ll see you guys later, okay, bye!”

You got the words out as quickly as you could, and bolted as soon as the door was open. You ran back to your house, face still flushed from embarrassment and being generally flustered, leaving a room full of witches (and one human) awfully confused.

“Hunter, what was that about?” Willow asked, as he still stared at the spot where you once were.

“Um- good question.”

───── ───── ───── ─────

Later that day, Hunter knocked on the door to Luz’s bedroom.

“Come in.” She said idly, distracted by whatever she had been playing on her Switch. He entered her room, hands anxiously fidgeting at his sides. There wasn’t a particularly easy way to say this, so he just bit the bullet.

“So, you know the whole thing with your soulmate, and how you’ll only see in their eye color until you make eye contact?”

“Yeah?” She encouraged, curiosity evident in her tone.

“Well, it’s possible that maybe, perhaps, Y/Nismysoulmate.”

“What?!” She immediately paused her game, and whipped around to face him. “Really?! Tell me everything!” She sat on the ground and patted the spot next to her, encouraging him to sit down. He did so, face red from having to explain the whole ordeal.

“There’s nothing to tell! I used to only see e/c, I looked at them, now I can see every color, and they— I always thought your hair was black, by the way— and they just ran away!” As Luz sat and processed this information, Hunter continued thinking out loud. “Did they not like me or something? Is it because I’m from the Boiling Isles?” He questioned, grabbing the pointed tips of his ears. Cutting his rambling short, Luz spoke up.

“No, I don’t think so. They were always interested in fantasy like I was. Maybe they were just a bit overwhelmed?” She suggested. He sighed.

“I guess that could have been it.” He said, though the anxiety was still clear on his face.

“Hey, how about I try to get them to come over this weekend? You guys can talk about it then.” He nodded, and watched her grab her phone to message you. Titan, he hoped she was right about this.

───── ───── ───── ─────

A few days had gone by since the whole incident with Hunter. You had been avoiding him since then, though you honestly weren’t sure why. If you had to, though, you’d say it was probably out of shock. I mean, you were convinced you didn’t have a soulmate for years. And now this incredibly good-looking boy comes in from another realm, and he’s supposedly perfect for you? It’s absurd!

Though it was also worry. How would a relationship between the two of you even work out? He’d have to go home eventually, and you probably couldn’t come with him. Maybe he wouldn’t even like you after the way you left the other day, and he’d reject you before you even had a chance. That’d put a quick and easy end to all this.

You’d been really sick of the color red these past couple days. You usually were, but now it was for an entirely different reason.

Though you couldn’t avoid your problems forever, despite your best efforts. Luz had invited you over for a board game night to celebrate the two of you reuniting. And, well… who were you to say no?

───── ───── ───── ─────

The day finally came, and it had been going relatively well so far. No one else seemed to know what had happened or why you left that first time you came over. Though you and Hunter had been carefully dancing around each other the whole time. It seemed neither of you were equipped to talk about your feelings at the moment. But were you really ever?

Eventually you saw him slip out the front door. With a sigh, you decided to finally face the problem. No use in stalling any more than you already have. After telling Luz that you were going outside for a moment, you stepped out and saw Hunter sitting on the steps leading to the front door. He turned around at the noise, and immediately turned back the other way when he saw it was you. Wordlessly, you sat down next to him. After a moment, he finally broke the silence.

“You look really nice.” You glanced at him, and saw the pink dusting his face. You smiled at the way his blush would spill out onto his ears.

“Thanks, but I’m not really wearing anything special.”

“I know,” He continued, finally meeting your eyes. “I just mean, like- you look nice. You’re really cute.”

“Oh.” You said, quite simply, now blushing a bit as well. You looked at the ground beneath you, pondering how exactly to go about this. “So, this whole ‘soulmate’ thing, huh?”

“Yeah.” Was all he managed. His hands toyed with his pants, still a bit nervous about this whole ordeal. Unable to find the words he wanted, Hunter just looked out at the surrounding neighborhood for a bit. Eventually, though, he said the one thing that was on his mind at the moment. “So… what do we do now?”

“Well, if I may suggest something scandalous?” His blush deepened at your words, but quickly faded as he watched you intertwine your hand with his own.

“Wow, and we’re not even married yet.” He joked. You put your free hand up defensively.

“I know, I know! What can I say, I like to live on the edge.” He laughed, and you silently basked in the sound. You set your eyes on the sky above you, a handful of stars already visible in the late evening’s light. Maybe red isn’t half bad after all.

[chrrychills]

i loved you like the sun .

aiden clark « relationship hcs!

•he's so considerate. even if he doesn't show it, he's always checking up on you silently. if there's something wrong, he knows and he makes it his personal mission to make you smile, laugh, or just take your mind off of the situation

•dates are all over the place. most of the time, aiden likes to plan activities. skating, rock climbing, messing around at ungodly hours of the night are all very common dates. other times, though, he's down to stay in.

•lives for sleepovers/movie nights. he loves cuddling up on the couch with some move (it's either garfield or one of the spiderman movies) playing in the background. he has an awful habit of talking during movies, but you can never stay mad at him for long.

•let's you do his makeup/hair. he just likes having you close while you two giggle like schoolgirls at the makeup on his face or the pigtails in his hair. he will leave it on for an embarrassing amount of time, probably until you take it off of him.

•baking dates, but aiden can't bake to save his life. he usually lets you do all the actual baking while he hangs off of you like a koala or tinkers with something on the other side of the kitchen while talking animatedly about some random topic.

•he doesn't admit it, but you stress him out. especially in the phantom realm. if you're as reckless as he is, he's constantly watching over you so you didn't get hurt. if you did? he's losing his mind. internally, of course, but still losing his mind nonetheless. after the ceiling incident, he stays much closer to you.

•your biggest hype man. constantly showering you in compliments, even if you look like you had just dragged yourself through a mile of mud. you'll catch him (shamelessly) staring a lot, too. he just likes to take in your features, memorize the small details that no one notices at first glance.

•likes it when you help him bleach his hair. one, because he doesn't want to do it himself, and two, he gets to spend time with you. if you like to dye your hair, he'd definitely help you, too!

•doesn't like spooning. would rather have you facing him– he likes looking at you. he also moves around a lot in his sleep, so you'll most likely wake up either kicked off the bed or limbs tangled with his.

•drools. it's insane how much of a messy sleeper he is. if he's asleep and you're cuddling, there's a 75% chance he'll drool on you. also a blanket hog. overall– not fun to share a bed with.

•"accidentally" leaving clothes at your house for you to wear. you passingly mention how soft his hoodie is? he's left it on your bed. his reasoning is that he can always buy more; why not let you keep it?

•loves to spoil you. not in the usual way, though. he'll spend his money on trinkets like matching keychains or a stuffed animal that reminded him of you. likes buying you jewelry, too. he thinks it looks pretty.

•is actually so corny. it's embarrassing. will absolutely call you corny nicknames in public just to embarrass you. he thinks it's the funniest thing in the world.

•overall a dork who just loves you a lot. 9/10, he gets a point docked for being a gross sleeper.

[keisobe]

౨ৎ ‧˚ 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐖𝐄𝐁 (𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛. 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫 + 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚) ⋮ heavily suggestive. age difference. 18+ reader. cheating. ooc. ⎯ spiderdads love having you as their little intern.

recently receiving a spider watch after a year of your debut as spider-woman in your dimension, you made it your ultimate duty to live up to the expectations of your variant superiors. your forthcoming nature and free time was open to anyone, but you found yourself always being in the radar of peter and miguel.

it would start off with innocent requests.

“hey kid, is it fine if you could grab me some coffee?” peter would smile at your enthusiastic nod and hand you his ‘number one dad’ mug. by now you know peter’s order— steaming hot coffee with powdered creamer.

“kid, transfer these files to sector 3.” miguel wouldn’t even look at you, but you still flashed a grin and began to sprint through the bustling hallway. you also learned he liked the empanadas at the cafeteria.

and in exchange of completed requests, you’ve found yourself looped into their peculiar ways to regard your work.

“good girl.” peter’s voice was hushed and deep as he sweetly patted your head, taking a careful sip of his aromatic coffee with an attractive grin. he left you a little stunned after that, or more so a blushing mess. then you watched him go back into his usual ‘i’m a proud dad’ routine and attend to mayday back in his dimension.

“gracias cari– u-umm i mean thanks… kid.” miguel uncharacteristically fumbles his words as he finally darts his ruby eyes away from the glowing, holographic screens, looking into your eyes with actual acknowledgement of your presence. his gaze was intense, a sense of longing in them. then he abruptly dismisses you, leaving you with a sense of wonder as to what just happened as you exited his lab.

it was always a special occasion when the two of them would be together.

“kiddo, you free?” peter shouted as he waved you down in the midst of you finishing a small errand for jess.

you responded with a firm nod as you sent jess a brief message on your watch. the smile you wore slightly faltered at the sight of a weirdly unreadable miguel beside peter— eyes glittering with a shade of red that you’ve never seen before. it made you feel on edge. nonetheless, you approach the two with a determined glow on your face as you let them lead you with peter filling in the awkward silence with his little quips and sarcastic comments towards miguel.

at this point, you've been working for the spider society for three months now. the teasing remarks from the other spider-people toned down and you’re finally classified as a real agent, exclusively working alongside miguel, jessica, and peter. and even through the fantastic upbringings in your life, something has been eating at you— more correctly, two people have been making your life miserably complicated.

miguel was by far the most interesting person you’ve met. his past takes a toll on him every counting day and the integral goal he based his life around is to never repeat his one mistake. although he’s very calloused and irritable, you admired his ambition and the rare moments his cold demeanor would falter to reveal a huge dork (in no other dimension have you ever seen a grown man get bullied by his own ai). as much as miguel shared a huge part of himself to you, he seemed far more content with being completely alone and devoting his life to a vow he made that day his daughter and an entire universe was wiped from existence.

peter, sarcastic and careless in nature, recently became an attentive father. it was endearing to see, considering the various stories of his depressing upbringing would make your warm lunch turn ice cold and soggy within a minute into his sulky narration (you might’ve avoided spending your lunch breaks with him afterwards). and his rekindling love with mary-jane finally gave him a sense of comfort and relief of a normal, happy family life. peter gave you a sting of hope that things will somehow turn out okay in the end. it made you feel closer to him, until you remembered that he was just sharing some old, adult wisdom to you.

and that was fine with you. you can totally push aside your small crushes for peter and miguel. one was emotionally unavailable and one was in a stable relationship with a beautiful daughter. plus they were your bosses and twice your age. so why? why is that miguel would linger a little longer whenever you announced that you’ll be going back to your dimension? why is that peter’s brown eyes would brighten up whenever you held mayday lovingly in your arms?

it didn’t help when miguel would start to call you endearing pet names with a genuine smile on his face, or when peter would situate you on his lap as he nuzzle his nose into your neck just because ‘it felt comfortable’. this conundrum made you think that you were completely losing your damn mind, that somehow you were looking too deep into the lines. but you concluded it was just all a huge misunderstanding on your part.

yeah, that’s what it was.

“you have to be quiet, okay?”

peter mumbles in the shell of ear as he clumsily discards your tight spider suit in the corner of the room while miguel makes sure that all the doors are sealed shut and locked from prying eyes.

it was normal just a few minutes ago. peter ribbing miguel with his usual dry humor, and miguel ignoring his antics to tick him off while leading you both to what you presumed to be a private conference room to discuss the important matters of anomalies.

but when the three of you nearly approach the door, peter suddenly stops talking. cautiously looking around his surroundings, peter presses himself closer and subtly grinds his hips onto the softness of your ass while miguel’s lingering hand gropes the curve of your tits— his neutral expression completely taunting your shattering composure. this is where your actual conundrum begins.

the room continued to hiss as the electric engines faintly knocked on the metal walls. the dimmed lights that made your very inappropriate circumstances much more intimate than it should be.

the chiseled arch of miguel’s cheekbones brushed the plush skin of your spread thighs, his sharp canines eagerly leaving tender marks that were reserved for only the three of you to look at. each bite and suck left you weakly whimpering his name with growing anticipation.

it was lonely back in your dimension, your bed was cold without another body to warm it up. returning back to an empty apartment would elicit forbidden thoughts— ones that held you in a heated daze until you realize you’re dumbly standing in the middle of the room and shamelessly yearning to open another portal to be in the arms of peter and miguel.

god, this was so wrong.

“aw, do you want more kid?” peter teasingly asks as his stumble scrapes along your jawline, leaving marks of his own along the junction of your neck.

miguel gazed up at your troubled expression, an amused smirk dancing along the swell of your inner thighs.

morals, pay attention to your morals.

you nodded eagerly, a force of habit after attending to the various needs of your superiors, but miguel wouldn’t take that as an answer.

“you have to tell us cariño.” miguel grumbles in between his love bites— crimson eyes glowing under the dull light.

oh well.

“yes! please, i need more.”

peter and miguel muse at your neediness, swiftly changing their positions as they propped you comfortably on a table placed in the middle of the room. you flinched from the chilling contact, but you were immediately warmed up when both men knelt down— each hooking an arm around your quivering legs and indecently displaying you as they spread your limbs. they move like they were on the same wavelength, finally agreeing on one thing.

guilt pinged in your stomach once again when peter’s wedding band brushes against your skin and miguel’s spider watch brightly flashes with pilled voice memos urgently calling for his assistance.

obviously annoyed, miguel hastily pries off the pinging watch and puts it aside while peter eagerly tucks his wedding ring in the pocket of his discarded pink robe. weirdly, their visible desperation to have their attention focused on you filled you with pride.

finally, two pairs of eyes were trained on you, sparkling with a hypnotizing red and a drunken brown. their previous notions left no ounce of guilt, instead it made them hyper focused with lust.

“don’t worry querida,” miguel gruffly murmurs as he snags your underwear with a sharp finger. “peter and i will take good care of you.”

“but don’t tell anyone kiddo.” peter cuts in, a subtle grin on his face but through his playful tone, he was dead serious.

you compliantly nodded.

of course, you won’t tell a single soul.

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