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ichiwashername-o · 5 months ago

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What Are Friends For Ch. 26

An Undertale fanfiction.

Written by ichiwashername-o

Summary: Undyne, Sans, Papyrus, and Gaster travel to the past in one last desperate effort to save their timeline.

Rating: Viewer discretion advised. Contains swearing, trauma, and psychological horror

Cast: Undyne, Papyrus, Sans, W.D. Gaster, and others

Chapter 1

AO3

Chapter 26: Final Gambit

There was no time to think.

Undyne charged straight ahead. She didn’t have a plan, but she didn’t need one! All she had to do was stop herself from hurting Papyrus! She’d kick her own ass if she had to!

Or at the very least, stall herself long enough for Sans and everyone else to take care of that kid.

It hadn’t really quite hit her how she was literally going to be fighting herself. It was like in those animes she watched, where the main character was forced to fight an evil twin/clone, usually created by the super evil villain to thwart them! Because what was a better enemy to face than themselves?

And now in the most brain-scrambling twist of fate, she was the future coming to beat some sense into her past-self.

Time travel is BULLSHIT! she thought.

But this was good, she reasoned with herself! All those late weekend nights binge-watching anime shows with Alphys was going to pay off in spades! She was going to exploit every trick and trope at her disposal to keep her past self from making that horrible mistake.

Her first mistake was trusting that stupid talking flower. She and Papyrus needed to have a talk about Flowey when all this was over, but that was for another time.

Right now, she needed to focus. She bull-rushed straight to the passage between Snowdin and Waterfall where, thankfully, it warmed significantly and Undyne was able to shrug the chill off her body. She slowed her mad sprint to a steady jog, waiting in anticipation. This was the only way to get to Snowdin, other than by boat, and she knew she’d run into her past self in mere moments.

She summoned a spear to her side, her claws tapping incessantly on its shaft as she braced herself, waiting for the battle ahead.

–

Sans, Papyrus, and Gaster cautiously approached Snowdin, where everything was dead silent. There was no one around; no patrons loitering outside Grillby’s bar, no neighbors having lively conversations on their front porches, no monster children frolicking in the snow. It was a practical ghost town as all the lights in the surrounding houses had been shut off.

“Seems everyone’s hunkered down already,” Sans observed quietly. They moved out of town, towards their house, where the Papyrus of the past was undoubtedly waiting for the human.

But Sans was torn on what to do. He made a promise to that old lady to protect the human if one should ever emerge from the Ruins, but, well, maybe some promises were meant to be broken. Maybe if he had never made that damn promise to begin with, none of them would even be here right now.

But that was in the past, and now here they were, in the past, trying to undo the one mistake that ruined everything.

Sorry, old lady, but if you knew what this kid was going to do, you’d understand, he thought to himself.

Papyrus turned to study him. “Are you alright, brother?” he asked.

Sans shrugged. “M’fine,” he waved off. “Just . . . thinking about what we need to do.”

“We’re going to stop the human,” he said resolutely. “And we can do that without hurting anyone.”

Even now, he was such an unbearable ball of optimism. But Sans didn’t respond. It wouldn’t do any good to start another argument.

Gaster lingered behind a stride or two, giving the brothers their space, but his movements were labored and slow and his expression was a perpetual grimace. He wasn’t looking well, seeming more and more unstable with every step. And of course, Papyrus noticed that as well.

“And are you ok?” he asked the doctor.

I̺̮ ̉wi̙̯ll̾ͅ ̄̃̄mǎ̙nā̊g̮ͬȇ, he insisted, his voice much more static-y and garbled than before. J̻͖͙ust ̺ạ͈͓ ̦̙lit̳̻t͍̙͈le̦͉̦ ̼͉̦l̻̪̦oṋ̞g͕̦̼ḛr . ̥.̬ ͖̜̪.͍̝̠ ͖͉͍I ͎jus̱̗͔t neẹd to ͚̜h̙o̫̻͕ld͎̫̖ on̺̪ ͕̬a̗̣̹ ̼l͔̤it̪͔tle ̗̩lon͖̗̫g̭er̰.͙̥ I͕͙ ͔̣m̳̪ust̺͉͚ s̹̫͈e̮̯͖e t͖̼ẖ͔̳is̻ t̯h̭̟̯ro̺ug͈h̫.̼̖

Papyrus and Sans exchanged a look. Gaster’s warning still rang in their heads. This journey was a literal death sentence for the doctor, and it showed with every step and wince of pain on his face. It was a miracle he was still here.

“We’ll do this quickly, then,” Papyrus promised, picking up his pace.

N͓̱O,̹̜̓ͬ ̏̄̾WAĬ̦T͇ -͇̑-̈́̅̄ Gaster said suddenly, reaching out to him.

Without warning, vines erupted from the earth, spraying snow everywhere. Papyrus threw an arm across his face as one of the thorny vines wrapped around his arm, yanking him off his feet–

A thunderous roar and whine sounded behind him as a sudden flash of blue light exploded, blinding Papyrus for a moment but releasing him of the vine’s grip. Papyrus fell hard but jumped back on his feet, madly scrambling to make sense of just what happened.

Gaster loomed behind him, his expression fierce and focused, a Gaster Blaster skull hovering at his side as he pointed at something past Papyrus. Papyrus followed his gaze.

There, right in their path, stood Flowey, vines lashing as he grinned, his insane gaze locking with Gaster’s. The little flower let out a delightfully devilish cackle.

“Howdy, Doc!” Flowey said gleefully. “Long time no see!”

Asr͙ỉ̫e͑̏l͍̯͚, Gaster hissed.

Papyrus did a double-take. “Wait, WHAT?!”

Gaster ignored him. Ge̹̘̗ṱ ̥̬out ͎̤o͖͈f̞ͅ ou͕̻͈r͙̝ way͉. This̠ ̥̫̯i̦̙͖s ̤t̠oo̦̹̘ i̤m̪p̫̦͖ortant.

“Aww, is that any way to greet an old pal?” Flowey crooned. The wall of vines waved threateningly behind him. “I just wanted to say hi, that's all!”

Gaster turned to Papyrus and Sans. Y̙̤o̮u ̯t͉wo͖ ̲ͅgo͓,͙̣ ̻̼̭g̖ọ͇ ̥̫ṉ̱o̞̬w.̯ ̼͈ ̬I̫ ̪̩will d̠̜i̪st͖racͅt ̤h̲im̰.̣̮

“No one goes anywhere!” Flowey said, his vines darting forward to strike at the skeletons.

Sans didn’t let himself think. He just grabbed Papyrus, and teleported away.

“Wait, no, NO!” Flowey said, growing angry. “You don’t get to barge in here and ruin all my fun!” But he turned back to Gaster, that manic glee returning. “But I suppose I can have plenty of fun with you, can’t I?!”

Gaster closed his eyes, resigning himself to his fate. Yes. This would do just fine. He will distract Asriel–Flowey. He will buy enough time for Sans and Papyrus to do what needs to be done.

And if this final fight should be the end of him . . . so be it.

He just needed to hold out as long as he could.

He summoned another Blaster, and with a furious whine, a beam of pure energy blasted the wall of thorny vines as they descended upon him like a plague of serpents.

–

Undyne was racing as fast as she could to Snowdin, the Thorny Whip in her hand. She knew what she had to do–Flowey had warned her what would happen, and however much it broke her heart, she knew she had no other option–

Then she stopped dead, coming to a screeching halt. Standing right in front of her, right on the passage to Snowdin–

Was herself!

Undyne gaped, not trusting what she was seeing. “What–what sort of sick trick is this?!”

The Other Undyne was standing ready and braced, a spear in hand. “Look, I know this is gonna sound crazy, but I’m from the future and I’m here to stop you!”

Undyne ground her fangs together, steeling every muscle in her body as she swapped out the whip for her more tried and true weapon, her spear. “If this is some sort of practical joke, it’s not funny!”

“It’s not a joke! Look, if you hurt Papyrus, you’ll turn him into an uncontrollable beast and he’ll kill the human and you are going to ruin his life–!!!”

Undyne had heard enough from the impostor. She didn’t know why she had even bothered to stop, she had a mission and she needed to get to it! She charged forward, screaming with rage and determination and brought her spear crashing down.

“GET OUT OF MY WAY!!!”

The Other Undyne leaped backwards, bringing up her own spears and fending off her attack. She countered Undyne’s attacks with her own ferocity, her yellow eye glinting with the same determination.

They were both fighting for their friend, and they were both going to give it everything they had.

Despite the severity of the situation, Undyne couldn’t help but grin. She had always been dying for a match against a true opponent, someone who matched her skill in every way to push her to the very limits of what she was capable of. And fighting an evil impostor/clone/whatever was the perfect match!

She had done her homework. She had watched countless animes with Alphys and fighting an evil doppelganger was a common trope in those shows. And so she would use every trick and counter she knew of to defeat this evil version of herself and save Papyrus.

Undyne screamed, raining down an endless torrent of spears. The Other Undyne dodged nimbly out of the way, bringing up a green shield to block the attacks she couldn’t outmaneuver. She retaliated with a similar volley, ferocious and unending.

The Other Undyne was grinning, too, but there was fear and panic and desperation.

The same fear, panic and desperation that Undyne was feeling right now.

If she didn’t get to Papyrus soon–

She was wasting time here! She had to get around the Other Undyne–

She jumped high into the air, using her spears to catapult herself over the doppleganger. Once her feet touched the ground, she took off running as fast as she could towards Snowdin.

“Oh no you don’t, you BRAT!”

Undyne felt herself lurch to a stop as her soul glowed brightly with green energy freezing herself in place, she spun, scowling furiously at The Other.

“Well, seems the only way to get away from you is to kill you! So let’s make it quick!” Undyne snarled.

That was just fine with the Other Undyne. She just needed to keep stalling.

–

The world blinked back into focus with a flash of blue and a zap of ozone.

Papyrus blinked blearily, trying to get his bearings. They weren’t too far away from their house, it was just over the hill. All he and Sans had to do was exchange a look, give a nod, and begin their approach.

Papyrus . . . really didn’t have much of a plan. Not a solid one. Which probably wasn’t a good idea. He was mostly winging this. But he felt that he’d know what the right thing to do would be when the time came.

“Do you think Gaster’s going to be ok?” he asked suddenly.

Sans was surprised by the question, but he sighed, shaking his head. “No idea,” he admitted. “Flowey’s a real piece of work.” Papyrus frowned at that, and Sans, seeing his dejected expression, gave another sigh and added, “Then again, so’s the doc. He’s . . . strong. And smart. If anyone could put up a fight against Flowy, it’d be him.”

That got Papyrus a little more hopeful. “But how did Flowey even know we were here–”

“Flowey’s got his own influence on the timeline,” Sans reminded him. “So he’s more tuned in to abnormalities than normal monsters. Us popping in here? Yeah, might as well set off a fireball to announce our arrival to him.”

Papyrus winced. “I admit, I didn’t think about that.”

“Nothing to do about it now. Come on, let’s get moving, I’m not about to take any bets on how long the doc can stall him.”

They approached their house, cresting a distant hill and coming to the edge of the surrounding forest. And there, right in plain view, standing and waiting . . .

Was Papyrus.

Him. His past self.

Papyrus froze. Hm. He had no idea how surreal it would be seeing . . . himself. He was stunned for quite a while, just . . . staring. Sans noticed and gave him a soft elbow to jar him from his thoughts.

Papyrus started. “S-sorry. It’s just . . . weird.”

“Tell me about it.” Sans more than sympathised. “But this is good. The kid’s not here yet. We’re early. We can head back into town, cut the kid off.”

Papyrus nodded. Even he knew that it wouldn’t be the best idea to just go waltzing up to his past self and try to explain everything. That’d be way too confusing. Best if they tried to avoid running into themselves.

The exception was Undyne, of course.

They snuck back through the woods, back to town, and began their careful skirt around the perimeter to see if they could spot the human.

It took them longer than they liked. Papyrus thought that the town being so dead and deserted would make things easier. But they must have been really early because the kid was nowhere in town. They were about to head further out of Snowdin, across the bridge, when Sans stopped him.

“Wait,” he whispered, gripping Papyrus’s arm. Papyrus froze, and saw Sans pointing across the way. Papyrus followed his brother’s gaze.

There they were. The human child, clothed in their signature striped shirt, a red bandana tied around their forehead and their hand adorned with a glove. They were hunched down low behind a building, carefully scanning in the direction where the brother’s house was.

“What are they doing?” Papyrus whispered.

“They’re waiting for something,” Sans muttered. A lightbulb went off in his head. Of course, how could he be so stupid? “They’re waiting for you.”

Papyrus’s head snapped in his direction.

“They’re waiting for you to change.”

–

Undyne could feel her pulse pounding in her ears, sweat gleaming off her scales. This evil doppleganger from the future was giving her one hell of a beating, but she never lost sight of her objective.

She needed to get to Papyrus, and she needed to get to him NOW!

She defended every attack sent her way with the green shield, but every moment she could, she strained to break out of the stranglehold of the green magic binding her in place. It couldn’t last forever, both she and her evil clone knew that, but every second she was here was another second Papyrus was closer to danger!

But the second she felt that green energy fade, she knew exactly what she needed to do.

“I doubt you’re gonna listen to me, but dammit, it’s worth a shot!” the evil clone shouted over the roar of battle. “Flowey’s tricking you! He wants you to use the whip on Papyrus! It’ll make him lose control! Don’t make him go through that! Don’t let that stupid flower use you!”

“I’m not about to get brainwashed by an evil clone!” Undyne snarled. “How stupid do you think I am?!”

“Pretty damn stupid, apparently!” Future-Undyne snapped right back.

They clashed, spears flying in every direction. One spear grazed her arm, but she managed to land a solid blow on the clone, sending her reeling, her single yellow eye widening in shock.

Undyne grinned. The blow was hard enough to snap the other’s concentration on her green magic, allowing her to move freely once again.

Undyne did not hesitate. She reached forward, and pinged her evil clone’s soul with green magic, locking her in place.

The Future Undyne, momentarily surprised, took the maneuver in stride, grinning right back at her.

And then Undyne spun right around and sprinted as hard as she could, towards Snowdin, leaving her evil clone in the dust.

She could hear her clone scream in anguish and rage behind her.

She blocked out the sound.

All that mattered was getting to Papyrus.

She needed to save him.

–

Vines lashed wildly through the air, their thorny limbs whistling through the ice-cold air as they seared towards their target. Gaster only blinked before he disappeared from view, apparating mere meters away and out of the vines’ wild swing.

“Hold still!” Flowey seethed. Vines erupted from the earth, serpentining around the doctor’s fragmented form, but he again disappeared from view, evading the attack.

“You are such a filthy CHEATER!”

Y̘͈̹our͓ͅ ̳̲̳fi̭rst̫ m̖i̺sta̠k͍̻̱e ̘w͍͚͕as ass͖̤uming̥̭ I͎ ̹ͅwo̝u͚͇ḽ̪͎d̺ f̱igh̯t ̝̲̙f̤ͅa̜̪̭ir̰̬.̱̩ Gaster said coldly.

Flowey gritted his teeth, redoubling his efforts. More vines came crashing down, more razor-sharp leaves sliced through the air, a hail of bullets pounded the entire field they found themselves in. Gaster responded with a flurry of bone attacks and several of those hellish skulls blasting him away with their powerful breath attacks.

But despite his frustrations, Flowey found himself utterly fascinated by this recent development. The long-forgotten Dr. Gaster, brought back to life?

Well, perhaps life was a generous term. Even now, Flowey could see the glitchy form of the skeleton monster strain with effort, his breaths haggard and labored. Though he remained cool and focused, there was no masking that look of sheer agony that occasionally crept across Gaster’s shattered face.

But why was the doc so intent on stopping him? He must know about his plan with Papyrus, but what caused him to care so much to come back and fight him?

Flowey gleamed. Oh, his plan must work most marvelously if the doc was this determined to stop him!

Which meant that Flowey had to ensure his plan came to fruition by any means necessary.

“Well, this has been most invigorating, the best fight I had in a while,” Flowey crooned. Gaster paused, catching his breath. “Really, way to get the blood pumping! Well, not like I have any of that, hee hee hee! But you know what I mean!”

I͚̮ cann̫̙͓o̦͇̩t̜͔ ̫̪͖l̪et ̭̺̜yo͚u̘ h̪̼̞a̩̙rm͉͖̘ ͈Pa̖̟̼p̞͈̹yru͚s̙͕̳. Gaster said in a low voice. E͈v͈e̲̝̗ṉ ̥you ̘̭̫wi͔ll͚̞̯ c̹̬o̠̮̭m̩e ̖̩to̼̮ ̟regr̦͓͇e͇̭͕t ̥͓̙it͔.

Flowey laughed indignantly. “Because you’re such a paragon of virtue, aren’t you? No, I think I’ll very much like having my own bit of fun! And I’m not letting you stop me!”

Gaster’s hand shot up, pinging Flowey with blue magic, preventing him from escaping. But Flowey anticipated such, hence why he taunted the doc to begin with. Vines appeared behind Gaster and shot right through his body, running him through and tearing him apart.

A static cacophonous scream of pain ripped through the air, but Flowey was already gone.

–

Undyne breached the border of Snowdin, the winter chill hitting her like a frozen slap across the face. It sucked the air right out of her lungs, but she pressed on. Papyrus’s house wasn’t much further–

Suddenly a little yellow flower popped up right in front of her. Flowey! She screeched to a halt before she accidentally ran him over.

The flower looked up at her, panicked and out of breath. “More are here! More came to stop you!”

Undyne blinked. “What?!”

“It’s too hard to explain right now–but you can’t trust anyone you see! It’s a trick! They want to stop you! They want Papyrus to die!”

Undyne clenched her fist. “So, I’m not the only one with an evil clone here, am I?” Flowey’s only response was a miserable nod. She didn’t bother on the how and why of the matter, that wasn’t important. “Then I need to get to him right now!”

“Hurry!” Flowey urged. “I’ll try to stop the evil Papyrus and Sans for as long as I can!”

Undyne balked. Both an evil version of Papyrus and Sans were here, too?! One was a handful on their own, but if both of them were fighting together, they would be a nightmare. “Are you sure?”

“We don’t have a choice, and we don’t have time, now go!” Flowey urged, and Undyne took off without any further encouragement.

Flowey turned, letting a sinister smile creep across his face.

No one was going to ruin this.

He disappeared, taking off to search for the time-traveling skeleton brothers.

–

Papyrus stood at the outskirts of Snowdin, not too far from the entrance of Waterfall, anxiously awaiting for the arrival of the human. It had been so dreadfully, hauntingly silent when he walked through the town. Everyone was inside, behind locked doors and shuttered windows. Everyone who was lucky enough to escape the human’s path of destruction, he thought bitterly to himself.

He steeled himself. The human was coming. And they were going down a very dark and dangerous path. For a moment, he had been conflicted between his duties as a Royal Guard and what was right. But he arrived at a conclusion he could be proud of: he needed to help this human find their way, even if it meant going against the Royal Guard’s orders. The human needed his help and guidance! Who was he to turn them away?

He heard footsteps rapidly approaching behind him, crunching through the snow. He quickly spun around, his eyes lighting up with recognition.

“Undyne–!” he said. His best friend’s arrival was a surprise but not an unwelcome one–

She reared back her fist and cracked him as hard as she could across the face, tears streaming from her singular golden eye.

–

“Something’s wrong.”

Papyrus heard it, too. There was a faint muffled sound of some sort of commotion, too far to make out any details but they could hear voices and what sounded like some sort of fighting.

The kid heard it, too, and they emerged from their hiding space and approached the sound.

Sans gritted his teeth. Did Undyne fail to stop her past self? No time to find out, he wasn’t letting the kid take another step forward.

He reached out his hand, glowing with magic. Papyrus’s own hand snapped out and snatched his wrist, pulling it downwards.

“No!” Papyrus protested in a hoarse whisper.

“Paps, we don’t have time for this!” Sans snarled in frustration. “We talked about this, we have to stop the kid, no matter what!”

“And we can do it without hurting them!” Papyrus insisted. “Watch!”

Papyrus raised his own hand, glowing with blue magic. He targeted the snow covering the roof of a nearby building and with a simple flick of his wrist, the telekinetic magic caused it to come loose, falling to the ground in a cascade of snow right in front of the human.

The human jumped, just barely missing the wall of snow. They glanced around, looking for the cause of the disturbance, but shrugged and tried to trudge through the mound of snow now blocking their path. It was hard work, with snow so loose, but they pushed through with sheer determination.

Papyrus reached out and pinged the next house, causing the snow from that roof to fall right in front of the human once again.

The human stopped. They squinted suspiciously.

Sans couldn’t help but chuckle. “Alright, I gotta admit, that’s pretty funny.”

The stalling wasn’t enough, even Papyrus was aware of that. But how to get the human away from . . . from him?

Suddenly, a vine lashed around his mouth, gagging him. Papyrus let out a muffled scream of surprise before he was dragged away. More vines wrapped around him, binding him in place. Papyrus tried to thrash and wriggle himself free, but could barely budge an inch. The thorns on the vines scratched painfully against his bones, causing him to wince. Sans was similarly trapped, his eyes flashing blue and yellow. He was trying to teleport away, but somehow the vines were preventing him from doing so.

And away they were dragged, away from the human. Papyrus could see them crest the last snow mound and make their final approach.

Papyrus tried to scream. But his muffled voice barely reached his own ears.

Flowey appeared before them, that menacing smile greeting them once more.

“Honestly, I’m flattered!” he giggled. “I’m flattered you traveled all across space and time to stop little ol’ me! Which means just one thing: my plan must be something REALLY special!”

In the distance, a scream broke through the deathly silent air.

–

Undyne watched in horror as her friend’s body twisted and convulsed. She had watched Papyrus transform dozens, if not hundreds of times. But this . . . this was different. More violent. More visceral.

The changes were different. The spikes running along his back weren’t that long, they weren’t serrated–his tail didn’t have spikes on the end–his horns were different–

What was HAPPENING to him?!

“What have you DONE?!”

That was her voice. Did she say that?!

But no. Behind her was her evil doppleganger, quickly approaching but her steps faltered when she saw the state Papyrus was in.

Undyne could see the horror and pain and regret on her clone’s face. That expression . . . it was unlike anything she had ever seen before.

It was harrowing.

Her clone snarled with rage, turning on her. “Do you see now?! Idiot!!!” She summoned a spear to her side, resolution dominating her features. But still, there was that pain, that regret, that haunting sorrow. “We don’t have a choice now. We have to stop him!”

Undyne shuddered. Another scream erupted from Papyrus as his body continued to change, growing larger and far more monstrous with every passing second. “But Papyrus ca defeat the human–”

“THAT’S NOT PAPYRUS ANYMORE!!!”

Undyne stared. She couldn’t believe it . . . but the proof was right in front of her. That feral gleam in the dragon’s eyes right in front of them . . . there was nothing left of her friend in that thing that now stood before her.

The dragon let out a death rattle as the final changes overcame it. It rose to its full height–far taller than he was supposed to be, far more feral, far more dangerous, far more deadly. And those blazing orange eyes snapped right to them.

Undyne felt her blood freeze.

As fast as a viper, it lunged forward, those terrible jaws gaping wide to snap down on her–

There was a sudden flash of blue and a crack of ozone. Undyne blinked. They now found themselves in the Hotland labs?! She spun around, seeing her (maybe not so evil?) clone by her side and . . . Sans?

Sans was staring up at the both of them. His expression was shocked, understandably so, but Undyne could detect a hint of anger. But it was mostly shock as he glanced back and forth between the two of them.

“Well.” Sans said. “No one told me Undyne had a twin sister.”

The other Undyne began to rattle off at full speed. “SANS! I know this sounds crazy but I’m from the future and I came back in time with Papyrus and you to stop myself from hurting Papyrus–obviously that didn’t work but right now we need to make sure Papyrus doesn’t kill the kid because if he does, he’s going to screw up the timeline forever–!”

Undyne stared at her doppleganger. She didn’t know what to believe. But what she did know was that Flowey lied to her. Or at the very least, horribly manipulated her. And because of that lie, she hurt her very best friend in the worst way.

So now she was very angry.

Sans was still staring at the doppleganger, the shock wearing off and replaced by an unreadable mask.

“Well, that explains the anomalies I just saw . . .” he muttered.

“Oh, Gaster’s here, too, he’s helping us, so don’t kill him,” the other Undyne added quickly.

That proved to be the worst thing to say as both Sans and Undyne froze, stiffening in rage.

“Gaster’s here?” Sans asked. His eyes were completely empty, his voice low and dangerous.

The future Undyne mentally kicked herself. She should have kept that little tidbit to herself–

“He’s the only reason we were able to get here,” she said quickly. “Look, be pissed at him all you want, but we need to get back there and save Papyrus! Now are you going to help me or what?!” Undyne asked furiously.

But both Undyne and Sans knew that Gaster was undoubtedly the cruelest monster to ever live. He was the one responsible for what was happening to Papyrus, after all.

The two of them turned on the future Undyne, spears and bones summoned to their sides. Future-Undyne wanted to scream. Her and her big fat stupid mouth.

“I don’t know what sort of trick you’re pulling but it’s not gonna work!” Undyne snarled.

“You wanna ask him yourself?! Go for it!” Future-Undyne cried. “But we’re wasting time! We have to move!!! NOW!!!”

Undyne and Sans exchanged a look. If Undyne was lying, a lot of monsters were going to be hurt.

But if she was telling the truth, their entire existence could be in jeopardy.

Sans glared up at her. “If you’re lying–”

“You can kick my ass to kingdom come, now let’s GO ALREADY!!!” Undyne said, stomping her foot impatiently.

Sans gripped both Undyne’s hands and teleported away.

–

Flowey dragged Papyrus and Sans away from the imminent battle, feeling them both struggle in his grip. He let out a mad cackle. Their desperation was just so delicious! Perhaps he could indulge their worst fantasies and force them to witness the battle for themselves! Personally, he wanted to see the monstrous Papyrus rip that little brat to bloody shreds!!!

L̥̣EŤ͆͆ ͔̀TḪ̤͌̀̊ͅE̮̼ͮ̓M ̟̰G̭̻͌̓O̠̎!̲̪͒̽!!

Two Gaster Blasters appeared at the brother’s sides, their jaws snapping down on the vines and freeing them from their grasp. Papyrus jumped to his feet and helped Sans to his.

Gaster had come to their rescue! But the doctor was on the brink of turning to dust. His body was barely there as it was glitching in and out of existence like static on a television, his expression one of pain as he struggled to stay present. But underneath all that, his eyes glowed a bright and brilliant blue as through brute determination alone he hung onto existence.

Papyrus gaped. “Gaster–!”

Ḡ̰Oͮ̽ͣͫ͋!̦̬̰͕̾̎̆̚!̓! ̼͔̜͔͙͍̄̆͑͑͗̓N̹͒Ô̳͖͕̖͉̦ͬͪ̓̎͌W!̗͍͕̮!̟͔̭̲̓̏̍̓!͉͙̼̱͎̼ͦ͋͛͗̉ͤ

Sans gripped his hand and tugged him along, leaving Gaster alone to fight Flowey. He tried not to think how this was undoubtedly the last time they’d see Gaster alive.

They had to make this count. They charged forward, towards the battle.

They arrived at the clearing just in time to see the skeletal draconic Papyrus finish his shifting, turning its hellish gaze upon the two Undynes standing before it. It leaped into the air, ready to sink its teeth and claws into the two fish-monsters, before they inexplicably zapped out of existence with a familiar blue spark of magic.

Sans managed to snatch them away at the brink of time.

But they weren’t done yet. They could see the human approach, their eyes lighting up with eager anticipation as they saw the monstrous dragon before them.

And the dragon saw them.

It let out a furious roar, ready to pounce.

“NO!” Papyrus cried. He rushed forward, and using all his strength, he encompassed the dragon with blue magic. The dragon let out a shocked yelp as its body crashed to the ground as if struck with an immense invisible weight. It roared and thrashed viciously, fighting back against Papyrus. Papyrus gritted his teeth, using every ounce of his strength to keep the dragon–himself–pinned.

The human stared back and forth between the two Papyrus-es, one draconic, one humanoid, in complete bafflement.

“Human!” Papyrus called out. The dragon opened its jaws, ready to let out a deadly blast. But Papyrus shifted his focus, forcing the jaws to snap closed. “Y-you cannot fight this! It’s too strong! You will be destroyed!”

The human paused, almost considering it. Then they charged forward, fist raised, ready to engage the dragon. Papyrus winced. No! This wasn’t what he wanted!

“I’m sorry, bro,” Sans said regretfully. “But if the way to stop it is to put you down–”

“No! No one has to get hurt!” Papyrus shouted. He diverted some of his magic to the human, freezing them in place. “We–we just have to exhaust it–him–me!!! He can’t keep it up forever! Just tire him out!”

Sans could have slapped him. Even now, he was so stupidly optimistic.

But he reached out, and used his own magic to pin the dragon down. It again let out a furious roar, but it was strong. Even with the brother’s combined efforts, they could feel the dragon slipping from their control.

It also didn’t help that the human was so determined to fight the dragon themselves and was fighting Papyrus’s control just as fiercely. They managed to break free, and charged forward, swinging their fist and landing a heavy blow against the dragon’s skull.

The dragon’s head snapped to the side from the impact, but didn’t appear the blow itself did much damage. But it enraged the beast and with a surge of incredible strength it broke free of the brother’s control and lashed out with its wicked claws.

Papyrus was at the ready and caught the limb mid-swing, slowing it considerably. The human managed to duck mostly out of the way, the blow glancing off their side and shredding the hem of their shirt. They winced from the impact but it was a miracle they hadn’t been torn to pierces. Gritting their teeth and steeling their resolve, they attacked again.

“Please stop!” Papyrus shouted. “You’re just making it worse!”

Sans was right by his brother’s side, carefully weighing his options. He shouldn’t have been surprised his brother was so steadfastly resolved to fix this whole mess with pacifism. Sans had to find a way to fix this around Papyrus’s impediment. Realistically, if Sans went full-bore like he did when he typically fought the human at the end of the palace corridors, he could take them out. The human’s LV was still relatively low right now. But attacking the human outright would make Papyrus turn on him and he’d try to stop them.

So the best thing he could do was keep the dragon pinned down and let the kid finish him off. It was . . . brutal, and he hated the idea of helping the brat kill his own brother.

But if it saved their timeline, if it ensured their future remained intact, it was the only thing he could do.

“I’m sorry, bro,” Sans said as he focused all his magic on the dragon. It thrashed, its orange eyes wild and wide as it tried to attack, managing a slow and stuttering swipe once in a while, but for the human, it was like shooting a fish in a barrel.

And for that reason, the human was left unsatisfied.

“Don’t help me!” the human shouted.

That got Sans and Papyrus to start. The human barely spoke, and now they were glowering warningly at them.

“I want to fight him! You’re ruining it!”

Sans could have blasted that kid if he could. “Kid, this is a fight you can’t win. This thing is specifically designed to eat little freaks like you.”

“Then let me try!” Then the brat had the audacity to lunge at him! It was enough to cause Sans’ concentration to slip, causing the dragon to finally wrestle itself free of their control. The dragon roared, completely enraged and snapped around, going right for the kill.

Papyrus dove forward, wrapping the kid in his arms and shoving them away just in time. But the jaws snapped down hard around Papyrus, and the skeleton let out a cry of pain. He winced, bracing himself, but he had just managed to grip the dragon’s jaws, preventing them from closing around him completely and snapping him in half.

He then forced the jaws open just enough for him to worm his way out, falling clumsily to the ground. Papyrus cradled his side, wincing in pain.

“Human! Are you alright?!” he called out.

But the human wasn’t paying attention to him. They just charged right forward, fist raised, landing another blow on the distracted beast. It reeled for just a second before twisting around, its tail lashing out to swipe at them.

Papyrus once again used his blue magic to stop the tail dead in its tracks, allowing the human to easily dodge, but they were angry at Papyrus’s interference. Sans regained his footing and summoned a Gaster Blaster and the blast from the skull construct knocked the dragon off its feet.

“Why are you helping me?!”

“Because you can die!”

“I don’t care.”

“Die for GOOD!!!”

That got the kid to stop and stare at him. Papyrus latched onto that moment of hesitation for dear life.

“If I–if that dragon kills you, you won’t be able to come back!” Papyrus warned. “That’s it! No more do-overs! No more resets!”

The human’s eyes went wide. And Papyrus desperately hoped the human sensed his sincerity, or at least his desperation.

The human swallowed, staring down the draconic beast. It was back on its feet, shaking itself off, and ready to attack again.

“Fine. We’ll fight it together.”

“I was hoping you’d just–run away and let it tire itself out!” Papyrus called out feebly.

But the human wasn’t so eager to throw away such an exhilarating fight. Their approach became far more defensive, reacting to incoming attacks instead of bull-rushing straight on. Papyrus didn’t like that approach any better! They still wanted to kill him!

And worst of all, Sans was in on it. His entire focus was on stopping the dragon at every turn, impeding its attacks by freezing it in place. Then the kid could wail on it to their heart’s content.

Papyrus moved to stop them, but more commotion caught his eye behind him. Arriving at the scene was Undyne! Actually, two of them! Along with another Sans!

The human blinked, rubbing their eyes. Papyrus didn’t blame them if they thought they had started seeing double.

“Come on! Take him down!” Undyne cried out, throwing a volley of spears at the dragon. Papyrus couldn’t tell if that was past or future Undyne. He supposed it didn’t quite matter at the moment.

Now everyone was on the dragon, pummeling it with magic attacks. It tried to fight back, tried to bite and claw at anyone that got too close, even tried to blast them with its devastating laser attack, but the two Sans-es worked together to keep it immobile as the Undynes and the human unleashed their full strength against it.

Papyrus watched, horrified. This wasn’t right! This isn’t what he wanted! He didn’t want anyone getting hurt! Not even the dragon!

And then it got worse. Vines whipped into the fray, gripping everyone and pulling them away, even pinning the dragon under a cocoon of thorns. Papyrus turned to see Flowey emerge from the forest.

And in one of his many tendril-like vines he gripped Gaster–or whatever horrific remnants there was left of him.

Papyrus gasped.

“Now, now!” Flowey said in a sickly sweet voice. “I don’t think we should spoil all the human’s fun, should we?”

He dropped Gaster unceremoniously to the ground where he splattered like tar, his form incomprehensible. Papyrus could barely make out his face.

Flowey pulled both Undynes and both Sans-es away, leaving the kid free to approach the dragon. He loosened his grip on the dragon as well, letting it rise to its feet for one final fight.

The dragon had been significantly weakened, but it had more than enough ferocity left in it to cause devastating harm.

And Papyrus saw the future play out before him. He saw flashes of red against the snow. He saw the human’s body torn to pieces. He could hear the tortured, agonized wails of pain and grief.

He felt every crippling moment of pain and sorrow he experienced tenfold. He felt it all in that one moment, and he knew that he NEEDED to stop it from happening ever again.

The dragon’s jaws snapped open, a terrible whine building in its throat as its maw glowed a bright and blinding blue. The human hunched over, ready to strike.

Papyrus rushed forward, screaming.

”STOP!!!”

He threw himself in front of the human, his arms stretched out to his sides.

The blast hit him full-force, all that magic searing his entire body like fire. It consumed him in a terrible pain, pain so complete he thought he would rend to dust right then and there.

It was over as fast as it started. Papyrus collapsed to his hands and knees, every bone in his body shaking. But he looked over his shoulder, seeing the human was unharmed.

The human was in shock. Their mouth was dropped open, their eyes wide, their hands hanging limply at their sides.

Papyrus turned back to face the dragon, who had also paused. It let out a low continuous growl, but . . . it wasn’t attacking them.

The skeleton shoved himself to his feet. He forced one foot in front of the other, limping towards the dragon. Every step was agony. Every move took every ounce of his concentration and will.

Everything hurt.

But it was nothing compared to the hurt the dragon–himself–was surely experiencing.

He wasn’t aware of everyone else behind him, who were watching, stunned and frozen in place, waiting with bated breath.

“It’s ok . . .” Papyrus whispered, raising a hand to the dragon.

The dragon flinched away from him, letting out a louder warning growl.

“I know . . . I know,” Papyrus said, stepping closer still. The dragon didn’t move. Those orange eyes were locked firmly on Papyrus, still letting out a steady growl like thunder. “You must be so angry and so scared. I know. I too was hurt. And . . . I did something so very terrible. And whatever hurt you’re feeling now . . . it doesn’t come close to the hurt I felt then.”

Behind him, Undyne winced with guilt.

“None of this should have happened. And I’m so very sorry it did happen. But it can stop. All of this can stop right now. No one has to hurt anyone anymore. Not them. Not you.”

Papyrus was so close now, so close he could reach out and touch the dragon.

He raised his hand. The dragon flinched away from him.

“It’s ok,” Papyrus said softly. “I’m not going to hurt you. And I won’t let them hurt you anymore, either.”

Flowey let out a snarl, ready to show that stupid skeleton just how wrong he was. But two skeletons and two Undynes simultaneously reached out and pinned him down, preventing him from moving a single inch. Both Sans-es and Undynes glared down at him warningly.

Papyrus stepped closer. The dragon pulled back its head, growling louder, so he stopped, and just held his hands in the air before him. He wouldn’t put a hand on the dragon if it did not want to. He could be patient.

And slowly, very slowly, the dragon’s growls softened to a whimper, and then to a whine. The savage and feral gleam in those eyes faded. And Papyrus could see . . . something within.

Familiarity. Recognition. Pain and hurt.

“It’s ok.”

The dragon closed its eyes. Its body began to shake.

“It’s ok. It’s over. It’s all over.”

Its head extended forward, its snout pressing into Papyrus’s hand. Papyrus breathed a sigh of relief and wrapped his arms around its muzzle.

“It’s ok. You’re ok. It’s going to be ok.”

And he stood there for a long time, just holding the poor tortured creature, whispering soft words of assurance to it. And then the dragon’s body sagged, overcome by exhaustion, and it crumpled to the ground. Papyrus followed it down, kneeling before the dragon, still cradling its massive head in its hands.

Its body crackled with orange magic, and at this, Papyrus pulled away. He recognized this magic. The dragon’s body began to shrink and change, the horns and spikes and tail all disappearing as it became smaller and more humanoid. In moments, the dragon reverted back to its proper shape–Papyrus.

The Papyrus that was once a dragon looked up blearily at himself, and a brief look of confusion crossed his face before the exhaustion of the battle and the transformation consumed him and he fell unconscious.

Papyrus eased himself to the ground, making sure he was ok–he hadn’t quite gotten over how surreal this all was, but that wasn’t important. All that mattered was that he was ok–

They all were ok.

He turned back around to see everyone staring at him, all with some mixture of shock, awe, and admiration, though Flowey mostly looked furious. But the human especially was fixated on him. And Papyrus thought he saw tears in the human’s eyes.

There was silence. No one seemed sure what to even say, certainly not Papyrus.

But then the human, of all people, spoke up.

All they said was one word, thick and choked with emotion as tears threatened to spill.

“Why?”

Papyrus simply shrugged. He knew why, but he too was exhausted, barely able to stand after enduring a single blow from the dragon.

“Because . . . because it was right,” he said. “Hurting people–it never does any good, does it? It just . . . hurts people. It only leads to bad things. You know the old phrase, hurt people hurt people. Which sounds . . . silly when you say it like that. But the pain you inflict on someone, it . . . reverberates. Echoes across everyone they come across. I . . . I didn’t want you–anyone–to have that happen to them.”

The human lowered their head. “I just–I needed to know what happened, and I just thought–” They stopped themselves, shaking their head. “I could always fix things if they went wrong.”

“Not everything,” Papyrus muttered. He grinned. “Why do you think we’re here?”

Again, a heavy silence hung around them. Undyne–the Undyne from the future–came to his side and cast healing magic on him to make sure he didn’t collapse into dust.

“That was unbelievably stupid of you,” she said, biting back tears. “But . . . It was also really brave.”

Papyrus just shrugged in response. What else was there to say?

But once he was feeling marginally better, he pushed himself to his feet. There was one other person he had to see to.

Gaster.

The scientist was reduced to a fraction of his former self. He was leaning up against a tree, barely holding himself together. Papyrus came to his side, desperately struggling with what to do. Did he need healing? Would healing magic even work on him?

Seeing Papyrus’s distress, Gaster raised a hand–a hand that was rapidly blinking in and out of existence.

D͚̖͓on't̙̘̗ wor͉r̘͙̜y ̩̳a̼̯boṷ̘t m̗̹e.̭ I͉ṭ͎̳ ͓̥is ̙o̝v̘̝ͅe͍͖̳r.

Papyrus didn’t know what to say, because he knew what the doctor meant. Gaster closed his eyes, sighing with content.

I̩̠̜ c̠a̤n g̬o̲͕̤ ̜̖̹ịn̖̥ pe͖ac̩e̠ now. A͕̬̲nd̤̳̦ now̹͕̝,̮̦ so̗ͅ ̗̝̠must͚ ̱̠y̘͇̠o͓u.̗

“But now what do we do?” Past-Undyne spoke up. “I mean, I don’t know a lot about time travel and stuff, but doesn’t having two of us around cause a paradox or something? That’s bad, right?”

“It’s easy enough to fix, actually,” Sans spoke up. Which Sans was that? It was hard to tell. “All the kid needs to do is RESET. And everything will go back to normal.”

“Normal . . . how?” Future-Undyne asked. “Are we just gonna disappear?”

“I mean, technically yes? Because our future wouldn’t have happened. So we’ll no longer exist.”

“So we’re just gonna blink out of existence?!” Undyne shouted. “I didn’t sign up for that!”

“You blink out of existence every time the kid resets,” Sans reminded her calmly. “That’s time travel for you.”

Undyne stared. “Ugh. Time travel is bullshit. It’s now my least favorite anime trope.”

Papyrus laughed.

The human looked between all of them, including the glowering and fuming Flowey who hadn’t yet tried anything because one Sans was bad enough and now there were two and Flowey knew those trash bags were begging for an excuse to throttle him.

“So . . . I just go back? And it’s like none of this ever happened?” the human clarified.

“Yup. Same as always,” Sans said casually.

“Then no one’s going to remember anything that happened!”

“No one but you, kiddo,” Sans said. “Same as always.”

The human’s gaze went far away. It hit them rather hard that no one was going to remember this, or at least, not fully. Sans might remember bits and pieces, he always seemed to have some sort of awareness of the resets, but never a complete picture.

But if the human wanted to try this again, nothing and no one could stop them.

Which, for the first time in their life, was horrifying.

It didn’t escape them what absolutely insane and absurd lengths the monsters went through to stop them. Which meant that the future in which they succeeded must have been truly awful.

So awful that Sans and Papyrus and Undyne traveled back in time to stop them.

It hit them hard and pierced deep. This gift they had–this power of DETERMINATION–they had been using it so foolishly, so callously, not paying a second’s mind to how badly it was hurting everyone around them.

Because they thought it didn’t matter, they could just do it over–

But that clearly wasn't the case. It was just like Papyrus said, there were echoes. Even if they couldn’t see it now, their actions still hurt them.

The human collapsed to their knees and sobbed. They felt Papyrus kneel down right next to them, and he wrapped his arms around them in a hug and held them tight.

The human decided they didn’t want to hurt anyone else. No more. Not again. Never again.

“I’m sorry . . .” they said. “I’m so sorry . . .”

“I know,” Papyrus said. “But you still have the choice to make it right.”

The human knew that. To them, there wasn’t a choice. So they wasted no more time.

Their soul filled with DETERMINATION.

And they RESET.

#what are friends for #waff #undertale #fan fiction #fanfiction #undyne #papyrus #sans #gaster #wd gaster #flowey #gaster blaster au #gb au

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slugtranslation-hypmic · 7 months ago

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hey slug,

whats ur opinion on the dh trailers?

Let's give them a listen! I'm currently in public waiting to catch a train, so I may breeze through this a little faster than usual.

Sasara's Laughin' Hope

(17 seconds in) Already obnoxious. (said with affection) Perfect for Sasara. Clashing dreadfully with the country song the café I'm in just started blaring.

(23 seconds in) Wait, no fancy subtitles? Channel Hypnosis Mic, you can't do this to me :(((

(30 seconds in) Oh okay there they are. I guess the earlier bit didn't have them because it was just snippets of other songs.

(33 seconds in) "So painfully aware of social mores it wraps back around to acting inappropriately" Cheers, bro, I'll drink to that. I like it that Sasara's acknowledging it outwardly to more than just himself or Roshou.

(45 seconds in) Man's opening tf up. You love to see it.

(52 seconds in) This song is too damn catchy to be listened to in public.

(1 minute in) "Gimme a light"... I wonder what that's supposed to mean. As in, light my cigarette? (That one gay-ass SamaSasa cigarette panel comes to mind.) Shine a light on me/illuminate me?

(1:08) I'm not a big autotune fan, but I'm kinda vibing with this.

(1:11) "Laughin' when I'm in pain, laughin' when I'm feeling fine" Homie is going THROUGH it

(Overall) I like Sasara saying the quiet part out loud--not just to himself, but to an audience. (Because it seems like most of his songs are performances, right?) Also a bop. Very fun!

Roshou's On My Way

(0 seconds in) All I can think about is that Phil Collins' room

(13 seconds in) I have literally no idea what to make of this, musically.

(33 seconds in) ...This feels like an anime ending. I think that's my only takeaway thus far. It's like...scrambling my brain. This isn't a bad thing. I'm just very...intrigued?

(39 seconds in) Okay the backing beat helps immensely.

(1:35 seconds in) Ohhhhhhh okay the "on" is from 途中. I think the vibe this title is supposed to evoke is kinda like "Work in Progress."

(Overall) I actually quite like this in terms of plot! It's a very hopeful song for Roshou and contrasts quite a bit with Sasara's song--he's openly acknowledging his issues and facing them head-on instead of being like "I use laughter as repression :) for the depression :)" The part starting from 1:29 is like: I'm still on my way Still hung up on the future Retying my shoelaces Only enemy to speak of is myself Only point of pride to speak of are my many failures All the answers I wrote that I went back and marked wrong Of course I wish I could back and do things differently, but I look up and watch the airplane shooting through the sky. Stop saying all the time: "Crap, what have I done?" "Crap, what do I do now?" Get out from inside my own head, Look out at the world around me. I see a long road ahead of me One that'll take so long to walk I don't know how I'll ever finish it. But let's go, one step at a time!

Rei's The World is Yours

No doubt orchestrated by Rei himself, Youtube gave me a financial scam ad on this video.

(8 seconds in) Yeah I can dig this.

(17 seconds in) What the fuck is that yelling in the BG

(26 seconds in) Oh, I like this a lot. There's an idiom in Japanese--"10 people, 10 colors"--meaning that each individual has their own unique outlook on the world. Here, Rei says "Repainting over the gray city [with] the ten people, ten colors seeping [into me]." Love seeing Rei express that other people enrich your life

(50 seconds in) He's unexpectedly honest in this song. There's a confessional or vulnerable quality to it I don't see often in Rei

(1:06) "Here and now, I'll fulfill a promise [I made] long ago and far away" Oh??

(Overall) Huh, interesting! Seems to be a "Life is what you make of it" sort of song

#not a translation #asks #hypmic asks

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samptlay · 1 year ago

Text

Could We Be High School Sweethearts? - Out on The Field (Continued)

Damn it. Now you have all eyes on you.

It was by instinct (instinct?), honestly. Everyone knows that if you stopped moving in this cold, you’d freeze to death, literally. (get it?) So the only reasonable explanation to fix that problem would be to move. A lot. So that’s exactly what you did as soon as the couch blew the whistle. Within 30 seconds, you were already halfway around the track while other girls were yards behind you, unable to keep up.

Other students were blown away and anyone can tell by looking around that they were shocked by your speed. No girl had ever been able to run as fast as you that school year and the fact that you were new had everyone off their feet. Especially Childe.

He was surprised, taken aback, and overall impressed. Everyone’s heads were turning as their eyes followed your movements. You were looking straight ahead, oblivious to all the eyes on you. Within less than a minute, you were back in the line you were in originally. You had almost beat Childe’s time himself. Panting and catching your breath while looking down and supporting your upper body with your hands on your knees looking at the ground, though you had just enough oxygen in your brain to take note of the silence around you. You recognized the pairs of shoes and legs striding towards the back of the line, to you.

You were about to ask him for something to drink since we were already on the verge of hyperventilation, but you felt a water bottle tap on your head. Looking up, you see the ginger smiling down at you with the bottle suspended in the air. “That was impressive if I do say so myself. You know it’s been a while since someone as cute as yourself has been able to finish one lap that fast. Good job, comrade.” The beams take a step back and you properly stand on your feet and take the water from him, opening it and chugging it all down.

Then you remember the words he said, and recall him calling you “cute.” It makes your cheeks flush a bit but you’re sure he won’t notice and assume it’s due to your run which is practically true. Observing your surroundings, you see a lot of eyes on you, even as the coach tells everyone to look back to the front so they can continue running. After a few seconds of panting for breath, the other girls come running in, some looking defeated and some down-right pissed. It was smart of you to avoid their glares or else they would have left a vivid picture in your mind for the rest of the day.

Feeling a heavy arm throw itself on your shoulder, you already assume who it is as both of you walk back to the building.

“Girly, what do you say we go out on the track one of these days, hm? Just you and me. We can help each other with improving stamina and endurance! It’ll be fun, you know. And we can get closer~. You’re already fast but we can all improve, what do you say?” “I say that you seem to have no sense of personal space.” You scoff, jokingly rolling your eyes before you go silent to ponder his request. Considering that you are practically the future of the Fatui (as well as everyone else but still) and have those skills that would help you climb up the ladder for a good position in the organization, you don’t see why not.

Of course that wouldn’t be the last time you saw the ginger that day, he was simply infatuated with you.

You silently walk outside of the gymnasium, carrying your school bag since Athletics was the last period of the day, wondering if you could look at a few coffee shops in town so that you can find one to frequent. But you still didn’t know your way around town. Suddenly, all you see is black and you feel a pair of big rough hands over your eyes, and you can only exhale a sigh. “Guess who?” You can only mentally roll your eyes before putting your hands on top of Childe’s.

“A sly ginger with nothing better to do than bother a girl with no interest in him whatsoever?” You reply in mock annoyance, actually quite happy that he’s here so that you could maybe ask for his help and where to go. You can hear him grumbling before whining and giving you back your vision, removing his hands from your face. You turn around and you’re met with a sulking Ajax, pouting, and whatnot. “Hah… Here I am trying to figure you out but it seems like you know so much about me with that sentence alone. What the hell, comrade?” He teases, ruffling your hair while you scowl and push him away, yet it isn’t harsh.

“Whatever… Since you want to bother me so much, you can at least make yourself useful by” You trail off as a deep voice interrupts your thoughts. “Showing you around town?” You pause, looking up at him with wide eyes as you blink in surprise. Maybe you were looking at the road hopelessly for longer than you thought. “Was it that obvious?” He chuckles, grabbing your arm and yanking you at the campus gate. “I have to say I’m surprised you haven’t had someone else do it for you though, it’s already been what, three weeks since you’ve got here?” The way Childe was calling you out made your cheeks flush, after all, it wasn’t your fault you were more focused on adjusting to the Snezhnayan school system and trying to get comfortable with things at home.

You let out a small sigh, realizing that he was right. You had been so preoccupied with trying to get everything in order that you hadn't made time to explore your new home. Maybe it was time to take a break and see what the town had to offer. You turn to him and give him a small smile. "That would be great, actually. I could use a guide."

Childe flashes a wide grin, his eyes sparkling with excitement at the prospect of showing you around town. You can tell that he's pleased with himself for having convinced you to join him. "Alright then," he says, taking your hand in his. "Let's get started. I know all the best spots in town."

When you follow him through the bustling streets, he points out the local shops, restaurants, and cafes, regaling you with stories and insider tips about each one. You can't help but be impressed by his knowledge and enthusiasm. Everywhere you go, people seem to know him and greet him warmly, as if he's a beloved fixture of the community.

As the two of you walk, you can't help but feel grateful for Childe's help. Not only was he showing you around town, but he was also making you feel more at ease in this new environment. You never would have thought that you'd make a friend so quickly after starting at the Academy, but here you were, laughing and joking with someone who had once been a complete stranger.

Eventually, the day draws to a close, you realize that you had a great time with Childe. You had seen so many new things and had learned so much about the town that you now have to call home. And it was all thanks to him. "Thank you so much for showing me around today," you say, turning to him with a smile in front of your dad’s house (you call it that but Childe is sure it's a mansion) since he took it upon himself to walk you the whole way there.

He grins back at you. "Anytime. I'm glad I could be of help. And who knows, maybe we can go shopping next time? I’d buy you anything you put your eyes on." You raise an eyebrow at the statement. Was he trying to get you to swoon? Because you couldn’t tell if you would be able to completely resist him in the future. You’re feeling a sense of warmth in your chest while he walks away. You stand outside until you can no longer see him in the distance, and if you had to be honest you would admit you’re looking forward to spending more time with him, soon.

Since when were freckles that cute on someone?

Taglist: @uhfhfhfhf @xdrin @msun1c0rn @umi-adxhira @lovingnahida @strrawb3rrysh0rtcak3 @ssecylia @skyl8ver @immahuman @meowmeowraven @01234 @markexplanation @esthelily @dawnofazrael @chickenalfredo4life @eccaza @jun-xiu @klemen-time @delulu-val @everi-eve

Borders by @cafekitsune

#fem reader #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #ao3 #genshin impact #genshin x reader #tartaglia x reader #childe x reader #childe #snezhnaya #samptlay

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adventure-showdown · 1 year ago

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What is your favourite Doctor Who story?

ROUND 3 MASTERPOST

synopses and propaganda under the cut

Lungbarrow

Synopsis

"Nonsense, child", retorted the Doctor. "Grandfather indeed! I've never seen you before in my life!"

All is not well on Gallifrey. Chris Cwej is having someone else's nightmares. Ace is talking to herself. So is K9. Leela has stumbled on a murderous family conspiracy. And the beleaguered Lady President, Romanadvoratrelundar, foresees one of the most tumultuous events in her planet's history.

At the root of all is an ancient and terrible place, the House of Lungbarrow in the southern mountains of Gallifrey. Something momentous is happening there. But the House has inexplicably gone missing.

673 years ago the Doctor left his family in that forgotten House. Abandoned, disgraced and resentful, they have waited. And now he's home at last.

In this, the Seventh Doctor's final New Adventure, he faces a threat that could uncover the greatest secret of them all.

Propaganda

Is it good? No. But damn if it doesn't cause some good fandom fights. #LoomRights (@eighthdoctor )

cornerstone of weird doctor who lore and jokes about looms (anonymous)

The Cars that Ate London!

Synopsis

The advent of electric carriages on London's streets causes a stir – until they start careening out of control. Elsewhere, factory workers lose their senses, while a brand-new power plant suffers mysterious outages.

Genius industrialist Fabian Solak has a vision of the future – free from pollution, running on clean electricity. But Madame Vastra knows such ideas are ahead of their time...

Propaganda

We open with one Jenny Flint buying racing pigeons because Vastra keeps eating the- because the pigeons keep getting out. She also buys a swan for Vastra (which, if you know Brit lore, the Queen owns most of the swans for some reason XD, and this is therefore a big ""Fuck you"" from Vastra to the Queen), when suddenly an electric car without a driver attacks the market. At home in Paternoster Row Vastra checks if Jenny is okay and promptly suggests a 'lie down' together... 😂 The guy making the electric cars owns a factory that quite literally works its workers to death in assembly lines, or absorbs the people's brains. The Gang infiltrates said factory (Strax starts a small war after doing a gloriously funny Cockney impression), trip an alarm, and have to flee. Strax runs through a wall. They try to escape in their carriage, two electric cars chasing them. When the carriage crashes, Strax is prepared to take the cars on in hand to hand combat; he sees it as a tactical advantage for himself that the cars don't have arms. Or so he thinks: the electric cars are actually electric TRANSFORMERS. While Strax rallies the workers to seize the means of production (communist king) and Jenny is prepped to be absorbed (she kicks the lady trying to tie her up and frees herself), Vastra has a talk with Mr Solak that ends in her being electrocuted and temporarily disabled for being IBSANELY mouthy. Solak's transformers are automated enough that he doesn't require any more workers, and he plans to absorb the brains of everyone in London with his factory he's made mobile. Well, they manage to escape and get caught AGAIN (they're that skilled istg) they try to absorb Strax as well, and while Vastra talks to Solak and distracts him, Strax takes advantage of the high voltage they connected him to and uses the energy to recharge himself properly. A hilarious audio to kick off the fiest boxset, though not without its serious moments. The concept is insane tho and I love tha. (@jennyandvastraflint )

#round 3

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tsuki-sennin · 2 years ago

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Azamuki kazamuki yomitori Mata te o kumi uragiri Kitai to negai akiramenai Kachitotta yume no naka de Tell me Nani o mitsukeru?

where were u wen dezagra die?

i was at house eating dorito when phone ring

"dezagra is kil"

"no"

I can't fucking believe this show is ending next week. Seems like it was just yesterday when I was making unfunny gamer jokes, taking a shine to the stripped back sound design, and speculating what the point of all this DGP crap even was.

Now the goddamn world is seconds away from ending~~!

Spoilers, I guess...

-"Come, my beloved audience. Spam poggers in the chat if you're excited to watch billions die."

-Oh, that's a focus.

-Hello, Tsumuri.

-Our very last DGP.

-Soba~! Tanuki soba, maybe?

-Everybody loves Keiwa-kun~!

-Kamen Rider counts.

-Are you a Kamen Rider?

-Hello, Kromer. Yeah, I'm still goin' with that.

-Oh, I recognize this location. I think Baron started assaulting people here in Gaim.

-OH

-Okay

-Everybody's playing this game, whether they want to or not.

-Zagizuki Real.

-No hesitation on Ace's part to immediately jump in.

-"Only one person gets to live <3"

-"The most viewed stream in human history. A legend that will be passed down through the ages as the cruelest extinction event. ...by the way, please be sure to purchase merchandise at-"

-OH???

-Hooray!

-Love won out!

-Jesus Christ, it really is a Twitch chat.

-"Those who don't play, die."

-Not on Buffa's watch~!

-Oh shit, Mark 2.

-"No, you don't."

-Gonna prolong this season for as long as we can, huh?

-I wonder... I know the future has literal intelligent design, but what qualifies someone for the role of Game Master?

-"Game Masters, huh...?"

-Oh hi Kousei, where've you been?

-At least look her in the eye when you say that, man.

-Welcome home.

-"I'm not your Nee-san, you little weirdo."

-Hello, Dad.

-"Good morning, audience~! Welcome back to the End Game~!"

-"I'm a God, rememb- BONK"

-No hurting >:(

-OHHHH

-Win goin' bare handed!

-...I guess Ace hasn't gotten around to giving him his Driver back.

-JYAMATO :D

-Y'know I'm all for this. Givin' the plant bois some sweet payback.

-"...this sucks."

-You left the back door unlocked, Samas.

-Hiiiii, Girori.

-It's been 32 episodes since last I made fun of you.

-"DGP fell off. And quite frankly, I blame all of you for it."

-Dad here was all about a fair game, huh?

-Ready? Fight!

-Oh shit, Magnum.

-INFINITY?

-Oh goddamn, this is so sick.

-This is insane and disorienting in all the best ways.

-Make you conceited, says you!

-Oh

-Even the VIPs noped out.

-Blackmail~!

-Not that I feel particularly bad for these assholes, but it is funny to point out.

-Ohhhhh, the sprinklers.

-Boost time~!

-Kicked in the face!

-R

-REVERSE

-Ukiyo Ace has been left with nothing.

-Now he's just a guy.

-Nee-san...

-"Go ahead then. Pull the trigger."

-Never give up on making people happy.

-Our final episode.

-...Dawn I...

-Obviously he's not dead, we've got a movie to watch, but damn. Quite a way to lead into your finale.

-The sun rises on the fox's friends: the bull, the cat, and the raccoon dog.

-How beautiful would that sunrise be?

#kamen rider #kamen rider geats #geats spoilers #kr geats #the world's next round: trick shot of desire for the grand victory

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ittybxttykxttytxtty · 2 years ago

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I HONESTLY FEEL LIKE WHILE READING THIS FIC,MY DEFAULT SETTING WILL ALWAYS BE CAPSLOCK. SO I HOPE YOU'RE USED TO IT BY NOW. THANKS 💕

I CAN HONESTLY SAY THAT BABY GIRL DESERVES THIS MOMENT OF PEACE. EVEN FOR A LIL BIT. GO AHEAD. I SUPPORT YOU IGNORING HIM. MAKE HIM SWEAT A BIT

“It’s just–” he began, grimacing before shaking his head. “Matt doesn’t know, does he? That you’re pregnant? Because you two aren’t together but you’re carrying his child. And I don’t think he’d be acting the way he is if he knew.”

FOGGY...YOUR FAITH IN MATT PUTS MATT'S FAITH IN GOD TO SHAME.

“If he knew the truth there’s no way Matt would’ve walked out on you like that,” Foggy told you earnestly. “There’s no way. He’d have stayed, I promise you that.”

FOGGY...BABY...

“I was crying and begging him to stay and he left . That’s on Matt, not me.”

“No, that man couldn’t possibly care about being a father. All he cares about is Daredevil and Hell’s Kitchen. He can have a relationship with his child, I won’t stop that, but I’m the one who’ll ultimately be raising this baby.”

YES YE SYS I ANBSJIA I CANT. SHE SAID IT. SHE HAS SPOKEN THE TRUTH.

“You don’t know Matt wouldn’t want to be a father.”

ARE YOU SURE ABOUT THAT?!?! DID HE TALK TO YOU ABOUT IT?!?! DID HE SAY HE HAS PLANS TO BE A DAD IN THE FUTURE. IK IDK MUCH BECAUSE MY KNOWLEDGE ABOUT MATT WANTING TO BE A DAD IS LIMITED BUT WITH ALL THINGS CONSIDERED HE DOESNT HE REALLY SCREAM FATHER MATERIAL

“But I know Matt. He wouldn’t walk away from his own child. He wouldn’t .”

OKAY, FINE. IF FOGGY SAYS IT THEN I KINDA MAYBE SORTA ON THIN FUCKING ICE ACCEPT IT I GUESS. BECAUSE I TRUST FOGGY MORE THAN MATTHEW RN.

“You and I will be just fine on our own,” you whispered drowsily, patting your bump. “I’ll find a way to make this work. One way or another, we'll both be okay.”

BET, BABY GIRL. WE CAN MAMMA MIA OUR WAY THROUGH THIS. MERYL STREEP AND I BELIEVE IN YOU. 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

“Are you fucking serious, Matt?” Foggy snapped.

TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH TO SNAP AT HIM BUT IT IS WELCOMED. GO AHEAD. TEAR HIM A NEW ONE.

“Fog, I’ve been trying to reach out to her,” he replied calmly, trying to soothe his friend’s anger. “I’ve called her countless times over the past couple of weeks. I’ve left her multiple messages. She keeps ignoring me and not answering my calls. Clearly she doesn’t want to hear what I have to say. There’s nothing I can do about that.”

i cant even bring myself to use capslock on this....it just baffles me how committed he is into not putting effort...like i am honestly amazed at this point. how can you say you love someone and not even make any effort in trying to make things right? or even try to end it without any bad blood...is he fr?

Matt’s hand twitched from its place on the desk out of instinct, ready to dart out and grab Foggy’s wrist, but he was stunned when his friend actually landed a hit upside his head.

AND HERE COMES FOGGY WITH A STEEL CHAIR

“And I’m disappointed in you! You damn well know you could show up at her apartment if she’s not answering your calls. You’re just making excuses.”

THAT'S IT. CALL HIM OUT LIKE A PRIEST CHASTISING SINNERS IN CHURCH.

“Okay,” he agreed, nodding again. “Okay, I’ll go talk to her. I promise.”

I'LL BELIEVE IT WHEN I SEE RESULTS.

After thots:

- baby girl deserves that me time 💕✨ go ahead, queen and lil devil, bond ✨ relax ✨ ignore thy father ✨

- did matthew even try? honestly? like him trying feels so forced?? that im beginning to doubt his feelings for her

- welp, we now know that these idiots would literally not survive without Foggy 🫂

Anyways, another chapter another round of feels 🥹 sending hugs and patience to everyone even to you, Ms. Bella. ik that typing matt's actions causes pain 🫂

Seeking Forgiveness [Part Four]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.7k

[Full summary and installment list for this series can be found here.]

Warnings/tags: 18+ contains angst, emotional hurt, delayed comfort, pregnant Reader

a/n: This one switches POVs at the end to Matt's. Hopefully you like the update because I quite enjoyed writing Foggy in this one. You'll see why... Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag List: @mattmurdocksstarlight @just-going-through-the-motions @paracosmic-murdock @yeonalie @auroraslibrary @1988-fiend @will-delete-this-later-probably @two-unbeatable-beaters @danzer8705 @ragamuffin285 @callmebrooklynbabes @spookyboogyuniverse @peachy-aisha @stevenknightmarc @nerdytreeflower @fucktthisworld @remuslupinwifee @kmc1989 @mywellspringoflife @thornbushrose @yarrystyleeza @shiorimakibawrites @thychuvaluswife @marvelcinematiquniverse @vallovesthedilfs @scoliobean @this--is--music @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @swissy23 @lilthbunny @that-girl-named-alex

Chewing another bite of your burger, you were barely focused on the conversation occurring at the table amongst your friends. You had been starving ever since the four of you had met at the restaurant, the smell of grilled food causing you to salivate the moment you’d stepped through the doors. So once the waiter had placed your burger on the table in front of you–the one thing you’d been craving nonstop all day–you’d tuned everything else around you out. Marci had shot you a curious look when you'd first dug into your food, but you’d chosen to ignore that, too.

Initially you’d set up this lunch date with your friends so that you could break the news to Foggy and Marci that you were pregnant. For the past two weeks now Karen had helped you keep your secret, but now that you were eight weeks along and had seen that everything was progressing well at your first ultrasound, you thought it was time to clue the pair of them into things, too. You’d been appreciative of Karen’s support lately, but truthfully being even less alone in everything right now sounded even more comforting and appealing.

As for Matt, you’d admittedly been doing your best to avoid him. He still had no idea about the pregnancy, and truthfully you weren’t quite ready to tell him. Over the past couple of weeks he had been calling you and leaving the occasional voicemail, but you’d ignored him every single time. And since you hadn’t had the heart to hear his voice or whatever it was he had to say for himself, you currently had twelve unopened voicemails from him.

You knew you needed to tell Matt the news. Every day you told yourself that, and every day it was a constant battle with yourself between ripping the bandaid off and showing up at his apartment to tell him or not. But then you always became emotional at the thought of just seeing Matt again, and you ultimately always came to the conclusion that you just weren’t quite ready to face him, not with this. You also knew that it wasn’t the sort of news you thought you should tell him in a phone call, either. So for now, Matt had no idea you were pregnant with his child.

“Whoa, slow down there,” Foggy teased from across the table. “Your burger is not going to get up and run away from you if you set it down to breathe for a moment.”

It took a second for you to realize that he was even talking to you, having been too focused on eating your food. Your gaze slowly slid up from your plate, noticing three sets of eyes on you. Thankfully Karen’s expression was more amused and knowing than confused and judging like Foggy and Marci’s across from you. Swallowing down your bite of burger, you lowered it back down towards your plate, sitting up straighter in the booth. You sent the pair of them across from you a sheepish smile, watching as Marci’s hand rose up towards her mouth.

"You've uh…got some ketchup," she said, gesturing beside her lip. “Right here.”

Reaching over, you grabbed your napkin and dabbed at the glob of ketchup on your face. You could still feel all three sets of eyes on you as you wiped off the ketchup, and one look up from your plate confirmed your suspicions. Eyes darting over towards Karen beside you, you saw her send you a slight nod and a soft, encouraging smile. With a sigh you wiped your hands off on your napkin next, figuring now was as good a time as any during this lunch to break the news to Foggy and Marci. And at least the irritating hunger-nausea that seemed to accompany early pregnancy was temporarily abated with how fast you’d eaten half of your burger.

“Sorry,” you muttered.

Foggy waved a dismissive hand, shrugging his shoulders as he sent you a smile. “Not a big deal, though I thought you had asked us here because you wanted to talk to us about something.”

“There uh, there actually was a reason,” you agreed, nodding slowly.

Your eyes slid back and forth between Foggy and Marci, your fingers fidgeting nervously with the napkin still in your hands. The pair of them curiously focused on you from across the table, lowering their utensils and giving you their full attention. Biting the inside of your cheek, you contemplated how you were supposed to tell them something so big. How did you lead up to telling someone that you're pregnant? So when you inevitably couldn’t think of anything to gradually broach the topic with, you opted for just spitting it right out.

“I’m pregnant,” you announced. “Just over eight weeks now.”

Marci’s eyes instantly doubled in size at the news, her lips parting in surprise as she gaped at you. Foggy’s jaw literally dropped, his entire body going rigid in the booth. From beside you, you felt Karen place a gentle hand on your shoulder, giving it a brief comforting squeeze.

“Holy shit,” Foggy breathed out.

You shot him another sheepish smile, still fidgeting with the napkin. “Yeah,” you muttered, “that’s about what I said initially, too.”

“So–so is it…Matt’s?” Marci asked slowly, her brows drawing together.

“Yes,” you answered.

“Whoa, whoa, wait a minute,” Foggy said, frantically waving his hands in front of himself. “You’re pregnant? Like right now? With Matt’s baby?”

“Yes,” you repeated.

Marci began to run a hand through her blonde hair, her lips pursing together as that furrow between her brows grew while she tried to process the information. Foggy was still sitting in the booth beside her and staring at you in utter disbelief. After a minute of that incredulous expression on his face, you quirked a brow at him, no longer able to stand the silence that had fallen over the table.

“What?” you asked him.

“Yeah, well,” you began bitterly, picking up your glass of water and bringing it to your lips for a drink, “that’s Matt’s fault.”

“So you’re just not going to tell him?” Foggy asked in shock, his brows shooting up onto his forehead. “You can’t possibly do that to him. You wouldn’t .”

“I am going to tell him,” you said, setting your glass back onto the table. “I tried to tell him that I was pregnant the night we broke up. But he wouldn’t stay to talk to me. Said he needed to go deal with the Russians. Again . He’s the one who told me to leave that night. Told me I could tell him whatever it was I needed to when he got back or that I could go." You winced, eyes dropping down towards your half-finished burger. “He left me alone that night–left us alone. So forgive me for not rushing to tell him the news a second time,” you snapped. “Because I don’t think I should have come last that night on his list of priorities, so right now he's not exactly at the top of mine.”

“If he knew the truth there’s no way Matt would’ve walked out on you like that,” Foggy told you earnestly. “There’s no way. He’d have stayed, I promise you that.”

Your eyes flew up from the table, landing back on Foggy across from you. There was an almost pleading look on his face as he sat there across from you. But as you opened your mouth to respond, you could feel that familiar rush of anger unfurling inside of you as you remembered that night.

“I practically begged him to stay and talk to me, Fog,” you growled, one arm possessively wrapping around your abdomen. “I was crying and begging him to stay and he left . That’s on Matt, not me.”

“I absolutely agree with you on that,” Foggy replied quickly, nodding his head. “He briefly told me what happened that night and I agree that he fucked up. Big time. But knowing what I do now? I know Matt needs to know the truth. He needs to make things right–”

“There’s no way Matt could make any of this right, Fog,” you cut him off. “And even if there somehow was, do you really think Matt would want to raise a child? With what he does? How obsessive he gets over things? The way he doesn’t even take care of himself?” You shook your head quickly, one arm still possessively wrapped around your belly. “No, that man couldn’t possibly care about being a father. All he cares about is Daredevil and Hell’s Kitchen. He can have a relationship with his child, I won’t stop that, but I’m the one who’ll ultimately be raising this baby.”

“You don’t know that,” Foggy countered, shaking his head as he leaned across the table towards you with that pleading expression only growing more desperate on his face. “You don’t know Matt wouldn’t want to be a father.”

“Actually, Fog,” Marci said, cutting him off, “I think I’m with her on this. From the things I’ve heard about Matt’s hobby from you and Karen, I was honestly shocked he had managed to successfully keep a relationship for as long as he has. But being a father? That’s an even bigger responsibility. I mean, he already has difficulty prioritizing the firm with you and Karen half the time. You really think a baby would be any different?”

“Yes!” Foggy exclaimed, his eyes darting between you and Marci. “Matt has his flaws, sure, I know that. I do,” he continued fervently. “But I know Matt. He wouldn’t walk away from his own child. He wouldn’t .”

"I'm with Fog on this," Karen said, catching everyone's attention. "I think Matt wouldn't be acting this way if he knew."

Marci’s eyes narrowed at Karen, her head slowly tilting to the side. "You already knew she was pregnant, didn't you?" she asked. "Because you don't seem very surprised right now."

"She showed up at my place shortly after the breakup and I told her," you explained. "I just didn't want to be alone in all of this. I had been waiting until after my ultrasound to break the news to you and Foggy next. I just–just wanted you all to know so I wasn't entirely alone."

Marci’s hand slid across the table towards yours, grabbing onto it. She sent you a warm smile that swiftly quieted the anger you felt towards Matt that had been burning inside of you for weeks now.

"You're not alone in this," she assured you, squeezing your hand. "You've always got us."

"Yeah," Foggy agreed, his face softening when you glanced at him beside her. "Whatever happens with Matt in all of this, you know we're always here for you. Through anything."

Tears began to fill your eyes, your lips trembling at the show of support. Truly you were grateful that everything with Matt had led you to at least meeting all three of them.

"Thanks guys," you whispered. "You don't know what that means to me."

Shutting your apartment door behind yourself, you turned and leaned your back up against it, slipping your aching feet out of your shoes with a deep groan. Head rolling back against the door as you stretched your toes, your eyes took in the sight of your empty apartment. Everything was neat and tidy except for the couch in your living room, which was often where you found yourself cocooned in a soft blanket whenever you were home lately, binging your shows and trying to ignore the hollow, lingering pain in your chest from your persistent heartache.

The pillows on your couch were a mess, a couple of them stacked together and resting against an armrest that you'd long since claimed as your usual spot. The extra height of them stacked helped with your nasal congestion–another unfortunate perk of pregnancy you’d recently come to learn about. Your plush blanket was still strewn across the cushions looking exactly the same as when you'd crawled out from underneath it earlier to get ready for your lunch date with your friends. Truthfully your couch still looked about as inviting as anything could to you lately.

With a sigh, your right hand absently landed on your belly. Any other normal Sunday in the past you'd have had plans with Matt right now. Grabbing groceries together or maybe getting coffee. Planning out dinner or listening to audiobooks on the couch. Having mind-blowing sex in the bedroom that left you blissed out and pleasantly exhausted afterwards, the pair of you remaining naked in bed just talking and losing track of time for half the day.

But not today.

Though admittedly it had been awhile since Matt had been able to give you his undivided attention on a weekend. Usually he had been trying to catch up on work or sleep before he went back out again as Daredevil at night. But that didn't stop the sting of his absence that you’d felt over the past few weeks since the breakup.

Eyes dropping down to your abdomen, a faint smile curled your lips upwards. You weren't truly alone though. Not fully. And at least Foggy and Marci knew the truth about your pregnancy now and were completely supportive of you. That's what mattered at the moment.

"Alright my little devil," you whispered to your small bump affectionately, "what's on the agenda for tonight?"

Lifting the hem of your shirt up with your other hand, you stretched out the spandex band of your maternity pants with a frown. They had become far more comfortable than your actual jeans this past week, especially once those had been near impossible for you to actually button closed. You’d recently bought a few basic maternity items, but the maternity jeans made you feel considerably less attractive with that stretchy band reaching up to almost the bottom of your bra.

"Should I get into something significantly more comfortable than these maternity pants?" you asked your bump. "Maybe those cozy, stretchy leggings I just bought? Then you and I could curl up and take a nap on the couch before figuring out dinner?"

Pushing off of the door, you bent down with another groan as you picked up your shoes and placed them in the nearby closet. Afterwards, you shuffled your tired feet through your living room and straight towards your bathroom just through the short hallway.

"But first I'm going to pee for the millionth time today," you muttered under your breath. "Something I feel like I'm doing all the time now."

You used the bathroom quickly before heading to your room, taking your time to switch your clothes into something more comfortable. It wasn’t like you were planning to go out anywhere for the rest of your Sunday night. It didn’t matter that you were wearing a massive oversized shirt and a pair of maternity leggings that you’d rolled the waistband down to just below your bump. No one was going to see you, anyway.

“Alright,” you murmured as you left your bedroom, shuffling your way back down the hallway towards your living room. “Let’s nap and figure out dinner afterwards. Seems like you’re feeling pasta tonight, so I guess that’s the plan.”

Settling onto the couch, you pulled your feet up onto the cushions and underneath your blanket before you laid down. Almost instantly you could feel your sinuses closing up and you tried to ignore your irritation at it. At least it wasn’t the nausea, because that admittedly had been the worst part of everything so far. Getting comfortable on the couch, you tugged the blanket up to your chin, your eyes steadily closing as your exhaustion began to overtake you.

“You and I will be just fine on our own,” you whispered drowsily, patting your bump. “I’ll find a way to make this work. One way or another, we'll both be okay.”

Matt leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk as he buried his face in his hands. He was tired and annoyed this morning, irritated that his Sunday out hadn’t been too eventful last night. Ever since he’d finished dealing with the Russians, having gotten Petrov into police custody with the help of Mahoney, Hell’s Kitchen had been oddly quiet on the organized crime front. Which was poor timing considering the fact that Matt hadn’t wanted to stay in his apartment where he’d just be reminded how alone he was every night.

It didn’t help that he’d been sleeping horribly, too. He wasn’t out as late as he had been for the past few weeks, meaning he had the time to sleep, but he clearly lacked the ability lately. His mind just wouldn’t seem to quiet, becoming almost louder than the sounds of the city around him when he tried to. Which was also quite irritating.

With an annoyed huff, he slid his hands down his face, straightening back up in his chair. He picked up his glasses from his desk and placed them back onto his face. He was tired but he still had work to do. There was a frustrating case he’d been helping Foggy with lately and he figured he could distract himself with that today. He didn’t want to think about anything else.

Though Matt had barely gotten far focusing on the case before he heard Foggy entering the office, closing the door a bit harsher than usual behind himself. Even Karen startled in her office at the unexpected rough slam of the door. Matt’s brows furrowed behind his glasses immediately afterwards when he heard Foggy make his way straight to his office instead of his own.

Confused, Matt’s head darted up just as Foggy threw his door open. He could practically feel the anger radiating off of Foggy as he stepped into the room, his breathing heavy and his heart beating a little faster than usual. Matt’s eyes narrowed curiously behind his lenses at the tension in Foggy’s body and the increase in his blood pressure.

“Are you fucking serious, Matt?” Foggy snapped.

Matt's brows knitted further together, even more confused at Foggy's behavior this morning. He hadn't seen Foggy all weekend, what could he have done to upset him?

“About what exactly?” he asked carefully.

Foggy stormed further into the room, roughly slamming both of his hands flat on Matt’s desk as he leaned forward. Matt’s head tilted curiously to the side, noticing the elevation in Foggy’s heart rate further increasing. Apparently his answer hadn’t been the right one.

“You said you’d talk to her, Matt!” Foggy yelled. “You told me you were going to apologize and make things up to her! You told me that!”

Of course this was about you.

Foggy scoffed loudly, angrily shaking his head. “There’s nothing you can do about that?” he shot back sarcastically. “Are you serious? Dammit, Matt!”

Matt heard the way Foggy’s hand swiftly rose from the desk, swinging through the air towards himself. Matt’s hand twitched from its place on the desk out of instinct, ready to dart out and grab Foggy’s wrist, but he was stunned when his friend actually landed a hit upside his head.

“What the hell, Fog?” Matt snapped, scooting back in his desk chair as he ran a hand over the sore spot on his temple. “What’d you hit me for?”

“Honestly, I–I’m surprised you even let me do that,” Foggy said, his anger briefly replaced by surprise. “Figured you would’ve stopped me before I could.”

“Well I didn’t think you were actually going to hit me!” Matt shot back. “Why the hell did you hit me?”

“Because I’m pissed at you, Matt!” Foggy roared, anger quickly returning. “And I’m disappointed in you! You damn well know you could show up at her apartment if she’s not answering your calls. You’re just making excuses.”

“Show up and do what, Fog?” Matt retorted. “Force her to talk to me when she clearly wants nothing to do with me? Hurt both of us even more by forcing that interaction? It’s probably better if she goes on hating me anyway. She’ll move on faster, at least.”

Foggy’s hand flew to the bridge of his nose, pinching it between his fingers. Matt heard the sharp hiss of his frustration between his gritted teeth. Seeing how upset Foggy was had Matt quickly beginning to question just why he was so worked up over this situation. It was between you and him, after all. Why did Foggy want you to apologize and talk this badly?

“Just promise me you’ll go over there and physically talk to her, okay?” Foggy said, his anger barely restrained. “That you’ll offer her a proper apology and talk to her?”

Matt shifted in his seat, his eyes once again narrowing behind his lenses. “Why is this so important to you?” he asked carefully. “It’s been a few weeks now, why are you still so adamant that we talk?”

“Because,” Foggy said, his fingers releasing his nose as his hand lowered to his side, “I know how important it is for the both of you. And I also know how stubborn and idiotic you can be. Someone needs to kick you in the ass before you make a big mistake an even bigger one. So just promise me you’ll talk to her.”

Matt’s tongue slipped out between his lips, nervously wetting them. After a moment he nodded, hearing the way Foggy’s heart rate started to gradually decrease back to its normal pace.

“Yeah, alright,” he assured his friend. “I’ll talk to her.”

“And I mean soon, Matt,” Foggy pressed. “Not in another few weeks.”

“Okay,” he agreed, nodding again. “Okay, I’ll go talk to her. I promise.”

#matt murdock x reader #reread

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noblehcart · 1 year ago

Note

"Grab" for your muse to grab mine's wrist, preventing them from leaving. -Styxx/Patya i love this

@myhiraeth

"You sick son of a bitch! Artemis should've let you stay as dead as Apollo left you! "

The audacity of the man that lead the Dark Hunters- that had trained him. The man he had come to trust who shared the achingly familiar face of his brother- the tiniest smallest comfort he took in joining the Hunters. Archeron, he had trusted with his life- Archeron whom he had been loyal and faithful and obedient. Like he had to another man, a better man whom he loved as much as any man could love a brother.

"i ask for sanctuary- please."

He remembered standing potentially in death's tent. He still remembered the sickeningly dank moisture of that night that chilled him to the bone. A child prince at fourteen, barely literate, who awaited the face of death whilst shaking more from the cold than in fear. He remembered the sight of the Stygian commander, the sharp figure and cold expression that strangely melted into something softer before outrage followed at the state of him. He remembered the warmth of Styxx's cloak around his shoulders, the hot bowl of food Galen pressed into his hands. He remembered hearing the discussions about him being a spy- that Cassius had recommended the safest course of action.

Execution.

Patya couldn't blame them. He knew the risks he posed- they didn't know the truth. How could they just take his word? He never blamed Galen for straddling the line of it nor Styxx when he had been brought out to the task. He remembered thinking 'gods, please let it be fast. let his sword be kind. i am so tired. i have no place here or with my own. let me be wanted in the next life.' and then saw Styxx hesitate in his stride looking at him then sheathed his xiphos and pardoned him.

Styxx saved his life.

Styxx gave him purpose, a role and a family. The Stygian Omada had embraced him and he counted Stefan and Cassius as friends and brothers quite soon after the pardon. And when Styxx died he felt his world fall apart entirely all over again. Like that young boy shaking in soaked clothes and terrified of life ahead of him.

Archeron had filled the gap....but no. Now he knew the truth. Archeron and that bitch whore Artemis had been the ones to create it. To cleave him from his brothers for thousands of years- to enslave him to a goddess that took it all away from him. Everything. His brother. His family. His future. He remembered his hopeful words to Styxx the first time his brother had encouraged him to speak up in strategos meetings with the other rulers.

"I'll make sure you learn, little brother." "Who knows maybe someday when you're king- I'll command the army." "Only if you learn to open your mouth when you're right."

The future he'd been denied- one of family. Of love. Of brothers. Of being an uncle to Styxx's children and to find his own love if he was so lucky. All of it was ripped from him with Styxx's seeming death and it was all thanks to Artemis and known to Archeron who never in the eleven thousands of years thought to tell him that Stephanos was alive. That Styxx hadn't been killed. That he had sold his soul for vengeance for his brother against the goddess he had bartered with. Condemned to darkness and a thirst for blood he so rarely sated. All for nothing and in service to them.

"You took everything away from me! EVERYTHING! My brothers! My life! My future! You and that bitch Artemis- I want both of your heads for this, but until that whining bitch gets here I'll settle for yours!" He didn't give a damn that Archeron was one of the best fighters amongst the Dark Hunters and at this point he didn't care if he died and spent the rest of whatever was the existence as a shade in misery. He wanted the man dead and he'd be damned if he didn't try.

A snarl tore through his throat as he lunged towards the Atlantean only to be yanked back by a familiar strong grip. Before that grip used to feel like iron around him when he was growing up, but now he was a Dark Hunter and one of the oldest of them and the only reason he didn't break his brother's grip was in respect.

"Let GO of me, Styxx!" Patya whirled around roared at his idol as rage darkened his eyes. " Eleven thousand, five hundred and thirty one years he robbed me of my brothers. Of you! Of Stephanos! Of the life we were to have! I want his life for it-! I want the pavement to be stained red with his blood for the next eleven thousand years! "

#myhiraeth #/ patya tasarov / threads

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queennicoleinboots · 1 year ago

Text

Hatari 2024

(sequel to "Patches' Nightmare")

Garfield, Kissy, Nugget, Patches, and Peter greeted me as Kurt ushered me away from Queen Megen Ace, King Bruce Ace's wife, not the Queen Megen that was going to appear in the future and take over the catering operation. Garfield, Patches, and Kissy meowed a few times. Nugget barked several times.

"What the fuck do these cats want?!" King Dark Chocolate Blueberry Gummy Bear screamed. "What does that dog want?!"

"God only knows-" Lindsay started to say.

Someone called King Dark Chocolate Blueberry Gummy Bear's number. He picked up the phone. "Hello?!"

"Is this King Simmons?" some goofy man asked slowly. He sounded like a country version of Scooby Doo.

"No. You have the wrong number," King Dark Chocolate Blueberry Gummy Bear said flatly as he stared straight ahead.

"Are you sure? I'm looking for KING SIMMONS," the country Scooby Doo repeated.

"Yes I'm sure! Get yo country ass off my fuckin' phone!" King Dark Chocolate Blueberry Gummy Bear shouted before he turned his phone into a chocolate bar. He ate that chocolate bar.

Garfield and Kissy meowed a few times. Nugget barked several times. Patches meowed a long meow.

"I fed them! I gave them water! I hosed their shit and piss off in a landfill! What the fuck do they want?! Vanille! Pet Garfield, please! He's meowing near me!" King Napoleon-covered Cherry Gummy Bear screamed.

I rubbed up against Garfield and said, "Quit! I'm busy!"

Peter bleated loudly. Nugget barked again.

"Happy Relationship Day, and Happy Fucking Birthday, Uncle Evan!" I screamed before I growled at him.

My Uncle Evan, a short man with a bald head, a gray goatie, gray eyes, and a pointy nose appeared with a huge pot of spaghetti and meatballs. "Thank you. I brought spaghetti and meatballs," he said in a pleasant voice.

"Oh sure! This gentleman gets a birthday on the same day as Relationship Day. Fuck it. I'm eating rice," Cody said as he walked toward us before he walked away from us backwards. He added turkey and gravy to his rice and ate again. Hot damn that dog was hungry.

"Did you bring chicken nuggets?" Nugget asked Uncle Evan.

"Yes, I brought chicken nuggets. I remembered to do that after I yelled at the yellow spoon that refused to go in the goddamn drawer for 20 fucking minutes," Uncle Evan said in a flat tone. "Fuck that shit. It can stay on the floor."

A clone of Uncle Evan walked like a robot and brought a 20"x12" pan of chicken nuggets to us.

Peter bleated before he trotted away and started eating many leaves from the trees. He was bleating between bites.

Elephants were making their own holiday commotion. They were arguing, stomping, drinking water, and eating.

John Wayne shot at them.

The elephants bellowed in unison one more time before they traveled together to another watering hole to continue to bitch.

"Ugh. The holidays are dramatic enough. We don't need the elephants to add to the drama that is Relationship Day and family gatherings," John Wayne commented. He reloaded his shotgun. "This shit is a fucking joke, bro."

A rhino ran at us and wanted more drama.

Nugget and Lindsay took the pan from the clone of Uncle Evan and ate the nuggets.

The rhino ran past Nugget and Lindsay.

"Sis, I'm sorry for causing you issues earlier. There was too much bullshit going on during the Christmas holidays," Nugget said.

"I forgive you," Lindsay said as she fed him a chicken nugget.

Patches meowed with joy.

"Hot dammit," John Wayne said as he shot at the rhino. "I can't get away from it. He's a big one. Take your time with him, Pockets!"

"Yes, Bwana. I'll be careful, Bwana," Pockets said as he chased the rhino around while doing a monkey walk. Pockets was a literal circus clown without the outfit, hair, and make-up.

The rhino chased Kurt around.

"You're supposed to chase HIM around," John Wayne said.

"Tell him that!" Kurt screamed as he climbed the same tree Peter was eating off of.

"Casa Camba!" Pockets screamed at the rhino.

"Casa Camba!"John Wayne also screamed at the rhino.

"RILEY!" I sang. "The Ace of Riddling," I added.

Riley the Ace of Riddling scarfed the remainder of the turkey and rice from the table before barking 28 times. Then, he went out of his way to exist elsewhere and eat chicken nuggets. Duke the Ace of Dodging barked 28 times and followed him before eating a huge turkey leg. Nugget continued to eat chicken nuggets.

"Crazy ass dogs," Peter said as he shook his head and bleated. "I wish Tug were here. He was normal."

Then we heard a familiar howl as a familiar basenji charged up near the tree where Kurt and Peter were located.

"TUG! You have returned!" Peter said with an excited bleat.

"Hello, Dad," Tug said as he wrapped his body around Peter's leg. "Happy Birthday, Uncle Evan!"

"Thanks, Tug! Would you like some spaghetti and meatballs and chicken nuggets?!" Uncle Evan asked.

"YEAH I WOULD!" Tug shouted as he raced over to my uncle.

Uncle Evan then poured the spaghetti and meatballs onto a plate, and the mountain of spaghetti and meatballs grew so high that it consumed all of us.

Nugget floated above the spaghetti and meatball mountain and spun in a circle in the sky. An angel played with Nugget's black curly tail, and Nugget spun around and chased the angel and his own tail. He barked repeatedly in the process of spinning. He spun so fast that the spaghetti and meatball mountain unraveled and opened a portal to the sixth dimension.

#family #fiction #food #animals #hatari #john wayne

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casspurrjoybell-27 · 1 year ago

Text

Claimed by the Beast - Chapter 43

*Warning Adult Content*

Vibes - Part 2

"Even though you already know the way, please follow me," Everett whispers to Knox with a mischievous grin.

He places his drink down and grabs the man's hand, leading the way to the basement-turned-bedroom.

"Damn, I forgot how bright it is down here." Knox chuckles, collapsing on the bed beside Everett.

"How you feelin' so far? Just gotta make it through dinner and I think I'll have earned that handshake from your dad..."

"You're amazing."

Everett straddles his man within seconds, cupping Knox's face and kissing him until they're both breathless and hard.

"Seriously. I know all this is out of your element, so I appreciate you a ton for playing along with the whole boyfriend charade. You're a damn good actor."

"What if I'm not acting, kitten?"

Knox squeezes Everett's hips, their eyes locked, his tone sincere.

"What if this is what I want with you?"

"I..."

Everett blinks, trying to process everything he's hearing.

"What?"

"B-But I... You get into a fucking shootout it feels like every five minutes. And I still have school to finish... We'll be apart for months..."

"None of that matters. We can figure it all out when the time comes."

Did Knox meet God two weeks ago when he very narrowly succumbed to his injuries?

Did the two have a heart-to-heart that rewired Knox's brain, ultimately shifting his priorities and emotions?

That's the only explanation Everett can think of because nothing else makes sense for why Knox is talking this way.

Talking about commitment and their future together when, previously, the only thing he was focused on was keeping Everett alive and killing everyone who claimed to be a Jackal.

"Who even are you right now?"

Everett laughs, nervously.

He sits up, resting both hands on Knox's chest, the man's heart is beating almost as fast as his own.

"Did your soul get swapped with someone else's when you almost died and came back to me?"

Knox playfully rolls his eyes.

"Gotta give me more credit than that. You think a man like me is immune to changing his ways?"

Yes.

"No, it's just... You're essentially asking me out right now. Like, officially."

"So?"

"And it's not quite the same as you claiming me, that's a biker thing. This, us being boyfriends for real, means a hell of a lot more to me."

"It means a lot to me too, kitten. I wouldn't be saying all this shit if I was just fucking around. I'm dead serious about you, enough to kill, which I've already proven. But it's okay if you still need time to think."

"Knox, I..."

"Everett? Knox?" Gary calls from the top of the stairs after opening the door to the basement.

"You two better be fully dressed down there."

"Oh my God, Dad? Can you not, please?"

Everett gives Knox an apologetic look for leaving their conversation hanging off a cliff before climbing off him and rushing toward the stairs.

"Dad, you are literally embarrassing me to death right now..."

The trio make their way back to the kitchen.

Gary leads the way, Knox following closely behind as they start up a chat and he rolls up his sleeves in preparation for the task ahead.

Everett trails off a little, his gaze fixed on his phone as he settles at the kitchen table.

His fingers idly swipe the screen, yet his focus is entirely on Knox.

His father begins to lay out the ingredients for their meal... three thick, juicy steaks and an assortment of seasonings and vegetables.

Knox steps into the role of sous-chef with ease.

"What would you like me to do, sir?" Knox asks.

"Season and cook."

Gary slides the steaks over to Knox, choosing the simpler job of chopping up the vegetables.

"You don't have to be an expert but a man should know how to cook a steak properly. My son isn't going to be doing all the work around the house and he damn sure isn't going to live off fast food while y'all are living together."

"Dad," Everett groans.

"Just saying."

Gary shrugs.

"You know where I'm coming from, don't you, Knox?"

Knox chuckles.

"I do and it's fine. I'm a decent cook."

"Good. Let's see what you got."

Gary smiles, passing him a pair of tongs.

Their conversation bounces from topic to topic and Everett sometimes jumps in to add his two cents.

Unsurprisingly, despite Gary grilling him about his intentions with his son, Knox holds his own and remains calm.

A few laughs here, a pat on the back there... Seeing the two most important men in his life forming a bond in real time feels absolutely surreal to Everett.

Is it selfish of him to want to have more moments like this?

"I still can't believe you like your steak well done. You know that's an actual crime in America, right?" Knox teases Everett while he and Gary bring the food to the table.

"I feel like I barely know who you are anymore."

"Same here," Gary jokes.

"Hold on," Everett laughs, then retorts with a mock-serious expression.

"How am I getting put on trial because you two enjoy biting into bloody meat? You're the weirdos here, not me."

As they dig into their meal, the conversation continues to flow easily.

It's been a while since Everett felt real panic in his chest out of fear his father or Knox ended up saying the wrong thing to one another.

Laughter and innocent teasing are interspersed with more thoughtful exchanges until Gary, seizing a quieter moment, turns to Knox with a more serious inquiry.

"Did you grow up around here, Knox? How are your parents?" Gary asks.

"I'm sure Everett has already told you his story."

Everett and Knox exchange a brief, loaded glance.

Everett opens his mouth to speak and change the subject but Knox gently places his hand on Everett's thigh under the table, a silent signal for him to let him answer.

"I was born and raised here but my parents have passed on. My father..." Knox's voice is steady, albeit tinged with sadness.

"He wasn't a good man. But my mother, she was an angel and my best friend. I think about her every day."

"My condolences." Gary offers a solemn nod of understanding.

"My late wife, Everett's mother, she was an angel too before she passed. Ever since then, I kept Everett close, fearing something bad might happen to him if I wasn't always around."

He pauses, smiling softly at Everett.

"I can't imagine how suffocating that must've been for you."

"You loosened the reins eventually," Everett jokes, trying to lighten the mood.

"But I understood why you were overprotective, Dad. We're good now."

Gary looks back at Knox, continuing.

"I'll never lie to you, Knox. When I first saw you, I didn't get the best vibes. But the more we talk, the more I see you interact with my son, the easier it is to look past that tough exterior of yours."

The moment Gary extends his hand towards Knox, a gesture of acceptance and trust, is a poignant one.

Everett feels a lump form in his throat as he observes the exchange.

"I don't know what it is about you but something in my gut tells me you'll keep my son's best interest at heart," Gary finishes.

"Is this true?"

"It is."

Knox firmly shakes Gary's hand, gratitude evident in his voice.

"Thank you for giving me a chance and for trusting me with Everett."

"Break his heart and I'll kill you."

Gary smiles, half-serious and half-joking.

"Arthritis or not, I can still work a gun if or when the moment calls for it."

Everett grumbles something under his breath while resting his head on the table face down, blushing from embarrassment and being the center of attention.

Knox chuckles, glancing at him briefly while running a hand up and down his back.

"If a day like that ever comes," Knox says to Gary...

"Then I'll load the gun and will hand it to you myself."

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moonyslove78 · 1 year ago

Text

So here's Part 2 because I have no fucking self control when it comes to these two and have to talk about everything when it comes to @liz-allyn's writing!

🕷️🕸️PART 2 - SUGAR & VICE VOL. 2

LOVE ON THE BRAIN SPOILERS AHEAD!🕸️🕷️

Jesus, the way my brain did a complete 360 in this moment! Completely filthy smutty thoughts to utterly emotional and heart wrenching. The "I love you, Forever. Remember? No matter what." Took me out. ❤️‍🩹😭

And I'm quite positive Honey was feeling the same way. You could see her quickly trying to put those walls right back up and regain her control on the situation.

But, jokes on us & Honey, she's always in control. Even when she's 'not', she actually is. Because Peter will make sure of it. He may play that tough exterior Mob Boss attitude up but when it comes to her, he admitted it himself. He wants it all.

Btw, this small part had such "Bad Romance" vibes and now I wanna listen to Gaga & dance around my kitchen.

🫠🫠🫠

That is all. Thank you for your time. 🙌🏽

Holy. Shit. Liz!

Where do I even begin to start here? I honestly wish I could even form coherent thoughts at this point. This had to have been one of the most filthy, while simultaneously being one of the most beautifully written smut scenes I've read in so long. (if not, ever)

I just can't with Peter's dirty talk. It makes my toes curl, while also making me want to cry from praise. If that's not Honey's ultimate lover, I really don't know who is! 😭

But also... damn... that was fuckin' hot. 🥵🤤

Just a few of my favorite dirty quotes from the Mob!Daddy himself, Peter Parker, everyone... 👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽

Also, same here, Peter... same here... I, too, lose my fuckin' mind when she calls you that name. Cause then you proceed to refer to yourself as such and fall head deep into the role. 🙌🏽😮‍💨

🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽

Yessss... all of it. Give me it alllll!

Or well, give her all of it and I'll just read about it and pretend for that I'm Honey for a few. 👀

Oh and that slightly condescending tone with the "Shit, sweetie..." part... holy hell. 😈

I am always totally down for some gut rearranging when it comes to Peter & Honey. So like, this thought process of his in this moment was a complete and utter wet dream. 👏🏽 The way you've written this scene is just perfection and I cannot get enough! Nor can I put into words how much I truly loved this with a passion.

I'm noticing now how & why I was so enthralled with this scene. His reassurance and love for her shining brightly behind the utter filthy things he's saying and doing to her in the process, as well as her with him is outstanding. And I really cannot wait to see how things progress after this... (🥲 since I already know what's about to happen)

Like I had mentioned to you previously, this was where I simultaneously wanted to laugh, cry and help Peter beat down her door. But his reaction to such a situation was priceless. The way he very calmly decided that he wouldn't cause any scenes and that he wasn't going to give up in his proceeding to win her back. (Even though we all know he's won her back already... she's now just giving him hell. Which, I too, agree he deserves. 👀😂😭)

I just hope she doesn't go too hard on him. 😂

But also, liike... if it's the cause of chapter's such as this... go hard, Honey!! 👏🏽😂

Also... I know we all agree...

I fuckin' love Cat so much. I just wanna be her friend so bad.

And yet another reason I want her to be my friend. 😂👏🏽

The "Sure did." had me rolling though. Cause she certainly did "give him hell"... as well as a hell of a good time. 😈

Okay, so my final thoughts...

I mean, you're fucking incredible Liz. You have literally brought these babies back us and in the best filthy smutty way possible, reunited them.

I cannot wait to see what you have planned for the future and also, take any amount of time you need to do so. Your writing speaks for itself as to the time and dedication you put into it. It's truly breathtaking how you can make a smutty piece be such a well rounded, amazingly written piece of art. And I know so many of us can agree on that.

You have made me and so many other people so happy with the new beginning these two are embarking on. And I am so excited for the ride from here on out. 👏🏽🙌🏽

And for the record, I know @blooming-violets will probably agree, it was our pleasure & great honor to be your cheering squad! You both are such amazing, talented writers and just human beings in general and I am so damn lucky to have gotten to call you both my friends. 🥺🥰🤗

I love you Liz!! And thank you again for creating this amazing world that we can all escape to! ❤️👏🏽

love on the brain: sugar & vice, vol 2 [mob!tasm!peter x fem!OC]

summary: You didn’t think it was going to be easy, did you? AKA The night Peter and Honey reunited—Four. Months. Later. [mob!peter parker x oc!MJ]

words: 11.8k (omfg)

NSFW/MINORS DNI - ABANDON ALL CHASTITY, YE WHO ENTER HERE (detailed warnings below)

extended warnings (spoilers): p^rn with plot, detailed smut, really just... filthy and deranged. slightly dubcon parts (although consent is clearly confirmed), no Y/N...ever, arguing, anger, jealousy, physical violence (slapping, scratching, throwing objects), almost hate sex, fem!reader with a vagina and breasts and wears a dress, oral (f! receiving), P in V, rough!dom Peter, sub!reader, possessive!peter, mirrors, titty!worship, shame and slight degradation, use of emojis, f! being restrained, discussion of masturbation, slight breeding kink, non-consensual voyeurism, moderate BDSM kink, “punishment” play (spanking, edging) bratty reader, peter parker being a dunce around women, mob!au, furniture harmed in the making of this

names used: daddy, princess, baby, babygirl

A/N: This is a one-shot standalone story that takes place immediately after the Epilogue of Vol 1. And serves as the official beginning of Vol. 2. If you haven’t read Vol.1, you really should. The main OC is AFAB and goes by the name “Honey.” You’ll need to read Vol. 1 to know why. I try to be loose with my descriptions for people who prefer a Reader-Insert. But I’m not perfect. In this canon, Honey has a Latina heritage (as do I). Take that as you will. Thanks to @moonyslove78 and @blooming-violets for cheering me on through this very long hiatus.

This is 18+ AF. And if you think the term ‘AF’ shows how old and out of touch you are, then you’re probably not old enough to read this.

This version of TASM Peter Parker is not canon. The relationships here are not healthy and the characters need therapy. Don’t date a mob boss IRL.

#1 - Love on the Brain

>>> heya boss. how’s your trip? 😜

Peter arched a brow as he peeked down at the text message.

>>> ⋯ >>> your trip to pound town? 🍆🍑

He rolled his eyes, swallowing back an irritated snort.

Real mature, Felicia.

He almost tapped out a haughty reply but stopped. Corners of his mouth turned down, he found himself unable to respond.

“So many choices. I just don’t know what I want.”

An understatement.

The girl of his dreams sat across from him in the quaint East Harlem Cuban restaurant. They were crammed together at a bistro table near the kitchen. The enormous menu took up the entire surface, and she had spent the last 25 minutes reading the items aloud.

It was nearly 11 p.m., and they had yet to pick an appetizer.

The woman he’d called ‘his Honey’ sweetly sighed with a shrug. “Now that we’re here, I just can’t make up my mind.”

Her voice had a singsong tune to it, purposefully careless. Blissfully ignorant of the fact that Peter was starving.

“Maybe I’m just not feeling Cuban food tonight,” she shrugged, nonchalant.

Peter swallowed hard. Tried to rid his expression of any hint of impatience or irritation.

“Oh,” he remarked delicately, thinking of all the different dinner reservations he’d made for tonight. It didn’t matter what magazine talked it up, didn’t matter how many “tire awards” it had won.

Honey was unimpressed.

“M’surprised,” he said, as emotionlessly as possible. “Thought you had your heart set on this place.”

The place was one of those hole-in-the-wall joints that had less than 10 tables, which made takeout the most popular choice.

On this night however—a Tuesday— the restaurant was nearly empty, except for the overdressed couple and the loathsome kitchen staff, who didn’t expect to be subject to “este cabrón” and his picky girlfriend strolling in 30 minutes before closing.

While Peter could feel the heat of their ire over the oven, Honey avoided it. She explained to the manager that Peter was “un ricacho que tiene demasiado dinero.” And with that, they were seated.

When Peter approached her earlier that afternoon in the park, he’d expected a much worse welcome. He nearly died of a panic attack when he spotted her on the park bench. It had been four long months since he’d attempted to communicate with her, and he half-expected her to throw her iced coffee in his face.

Actually, he had no idea what to expect from her. Terrifyingly.

Peter had lamented to Felicia— “There’s no card that says, ‘Sorry, I ghosted you for a few months while attempting to shake the heat off my back.’ Which flowers say, ‘I apologize that the last conversation we had, I called you a whore in front of a room full of cops’?”

The true challenge came when Peter actually looked into her eyes. He didn’t expect that one look would render him useless.

She was even more beautiful than he remembered. Ethereal. Glowing. The human equivalent of a bouquet of sunflowers, with happy round cheeks and her hair tied back in a ponytail. She was the color of rainbows, and summer, and sunshine. She was the cherries of her red lip stain and the golden rays of her yellow linen sundress.

God, that dress.

Peter planned for everything—but not that dress.

His carefully rehearsed speech went out the window when he saw her in that dress: a cotton ruched-waist, tea-length gown in a yellow gingham pattern. It featured a sweetheart neckline that cradled her breasts perfectly between the halter tie-back straps.

He had no idea where that dress came from, but it was the most perfect piece of fabric ever to grace a woman’s body. He would buy her twelve more of them, no matter the cost. He’d buy every last one.

He’d give her the sun, the ocean, Hawai’i, and all the stars in the sky— if only she’d forgive him. He was ready to throw himself on a bed of hot coals as long as it meant that she would take him back. If she would come back home.

Truthfully, he needed her to come home.

Not to get ahead of himself, he started by taking her to dinner.

That was Felicia’s advice—women love dinner. solves everything. the fancier, the better, with lots of red meat—u know how they say food is the way to a man’s heart? dinner is the way to the ovaries. works every time.

Actually, Felicia gave Peter lots of advice. For once, he was more than grateful to accept it.

>>> make her feel like you can’t take your eyes off her. but don’t stare. like a creeper >>> be a gentleman, but not a pushover. you wanna be the good guy. soft YA novel boyfriend type

Followed quickly by—

>>> but not too soft! don’t be a little bitch. if she plays hard to get, you play offense. >>> and defense.

Peter had no idea what she was talking about. But he knew when it was wise to trust the advice of more intelligent creatures than men.

Five restaurants later...

“I thought going to dinner was your idea?” Honey asked with pursed lips.

“It was; it was my idea,” he nervously replied. “Six hours ago—it was my idea.”

She narrowed her eyes to slits. “Hmm. Six hours. Long time to wait.” Her eyes fell down to the menu again. Her lack-of-sympathy said everything.

Peter’s pocket buzzed again, and he glanced down at the incoming text message from Felicia.

>>> ...????

He rolled his eyes. Tapped out a response.

<<< Not great.

“Am I interrupting something?” Honey asked with a clipped tone.

Peter jumped, pocketing his phone immediately. “No, just... just something... silly,” he muttered. “How ‘bout we get a few plates in, yeah? I’m gonna just order some stuff—”

“Like what?” she questioned skeptically.

“I don’t know,” Peter shrugged, his stomach twisting. “One of everything.”

“That’s wasteful,” Honey said, judgment sharpening her gaze. “Food waste is bad enough as it is in this city.”

“Well, at this point,” he snapped with an exasperated sigh, “I might be able to eat two of everything.” The words floated away from him, and he bit the inside of his cheek, wishing they would come back. Hesitantly, he made eye contact with Honey.

She peered at him disgustedly from over the top of her menu. She scoffed, crossing one leg over the other, and dropped the leather-bound book closed.

“Don’t let me slow you down,” Honey said icily. “I’m not that hungry anyway.”

Peter’s eyes nearly bulged out of his skull. His pocket buzzed again.

>>> the fuck? what do you mean? >>> she was in love with you b4... how hard can it be to take her on a date? >>> christ. did you fuck this up, parker?

He shoved the phone back in his jacket, nearly punching through the silk fabric.

“If I’m wasting your time, tell me,” Honey sharply retorted. She crossed her arms even tighter across her chest. He had to force himself to look away from the way it plumped her breasts together. “I’d hate to keep you from something important.”

Felicia was right. He was fucking this up. Before he could open his mouth—

“Excuse me, señorita,” a masculine, smoky voice crooned at them.

Peter and Honey glanced up to see a chiseled man in his 30s approach the table with a hurricane glass of ice. He was a specimen of Latin American art—a bronzed statue, with carved muscles that bulged out of his floral shirt. Deep brown eyes—no, hazel eyes— fixed on Honey as he reached across the table with rolled-back sleeves. The corded muscles in his arm, toned by long hours of hard labor, flexed gracefully as he gently set a cocktail in front of her.

A frosted, colorless liquid speckled with crushed mint leaves filled the glass. Honey blinked with delighted surprise.

“Our compliments,” the young, disgustingly attractive waiter explained with a sultry smile and a thick accent. “In case you found yourself thirsty while browsing the menu.”

A blush colored her skin as she glanced up at their handsome waiter. The sparkle in her smile was as blinding as ever, and she graciously looked back between the glass and the server. The waiter— no way in hell this fuckin’ guy is a waiter— beamed back at her, enamored.

“Oh, wow!” she gasped, reaching for the glass with dainty fingers. “Is this a mojito? That’s my favorite! How did you know?”

The waiter graciously chuckled. “Lucky guess. You look like a woman of refined taste.”

Peter felt his blood pressure rising.

Honey didn’t even look at her date, as if he was suddenly invisible. “Thank you,” she grinned, self-satisfied. “I mean, I do know my way around a Bacardi bottle.” The waiter chuckled, maybe too hard, at her silly joke.

“We want you to enjoy your evening with us,” the waiter added politely, sparing Peter a glance but keeping all his attention on Honey. “We are honored to have you as our guest.”

The waiter spoke gentlemanly as he splayed his long fingers across his chest. “Please, take as much time as you need. No need to feel rushed. It is my pleasure to serve you.”

Peter could feel a twitch behind his eye. Could have been the fire shooting out of his eyes. Fuck this prick, probably another Broadway reject or somethin’, couldn’t buy himself a decent shirt—His mind churned along with his anger.

Oblivious, Honey beamed up at him with a golden smile. “Thank you so much for saying that,” she replied, endearingly sweet. “You are too kind, um... I’m sorry, what was your name again?”

“Pedro.”

Honey’s brows shot to her hairline. “Pedro?” she repeated, absolutely delighted. She glanced over at Peter. “Isn’t that something?”

The mob boss’ lip curled mirthlessly. “Oh, it’s somethin,’ alright.”

Peter continued to burn his stare—fuck his stupid accent— into the side of the aloof waiter’s head. He wondered if Pedro’s handsome, chiseled jawline was sharp enough to cut through a noose.

Buzz..

>>> you’re keepin’ your cool, right? >>> remember what i said. >>> anything she wants. no questions asked! >>> don’t get all crazy possessive either

The joyful sound of her laughter ripped his attention away from his phone and back towards his charmed date.

“Pedro,” she sweetly preened. “Can you give us a recommendation?” She briefly flashed her eyes at Peter before looking back at her new friend. “My date’s clearly distracted. He has no idea what I like.”

Oh? Peter raised a brow at that. And lost his appetite.

Peter followed Honey down the hallway to his hotel suite while storm clouds swirled in his gut. Lighting crackled with each footfall. Tension clogged the atmosphere, and they shuffled in a silent fog to the door.

Despite Felicia’s advice about controlling his inner beasts, Peter’s hackles were raised, and his stomach growled. Now, he was hungry for more than just food. And simultaneously, he’d never felt so powerless.

Peter noted how tightly she wrapped her arms around herself. Her face suggested she was deep in thought. He wondered if she was just as tightly wound as he was. Wondered if she could break his heart with just a look.

He was flailing. Pathetic.

Peter’s fist clenched his keycard tight. He had to be careful not to snap the card in half between his fingers. Was it from excitement or terror? Desire or rage?

He had to focus, to make this work. He had nothing if he didn’t have her.

Rigidly, Peter pushed the door open and stood to the side of the frame to let her enter.

She paused briefly, lips tight, as she gazed into the rotunda entryway of the lavish suite. They hadn’t spoken in the car, and he hadn’t had the chance to explain the location.

Letting out a steady breath, she strode through the threshold and stopped. Her body blocked the doorway. She turned to look up at Peter, defiant eyes flashing.

“This is as far as you go.”

Peter blinked, looking at her in confusion.

Her tone was curt. Icy. He recognized that sound. It was the tone of voice she used when she wanted to draw blood, and it never failed to inflict pain. Her voice. Her eyes. Even her tongue was razor-sharp.

Peter curled a brow upwards. “Sorry?”

Honey narrowed her eyes. “Not yet, you’re not.”

He took a step back, blinking owlishly.

“What did you think was going to happen tonight, Peter?” The ire of Honey’s question sliced through him. “Did you think you were gonna shave your face, take me to a fancy dinner, and then I’d just... open my legs for you?”

A literal ellipsis formed in his mind.

Peter swallowed hard. “Uhhh—?”

“‘I’ll wait for forever, Honey,’ she parroted his earlier admission mockingly. “Is that all you have to say to me? You left me! For four months!”

Peter nodded his head, not sure exactly why or when he began. “I know, I know...”

“You know!?”

The walls of etiquette and politeness between them began to crack.

“How many times I gotta tell ya? I was tryin’ to protect ya, Honey—”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

It stung like a snake bite. Rage filled her eyes, disdain bubbling out of her mouth. She had only just begun.

“You buy me all this expensive bullshit!” she scolded. “And you dress up in your ridiculous designer suits and parade me to all these fucking pretentious places! Like I’m some kind of accessory! Like you own the whole fucking city and everyone in it!”

He replied with a string of noises. Or, at least, he thought so.

“Big bad mob boss—all that power—and yet, you couldn’t just talk to me? You had me wait around for you like a stray dog! You can just come and go as you please, but you—you expect me to follow you around on a leash?”

“Honey, please. Let me explain—”

“I don’t want to hear it, Peter!” her voice echoed through the rotunda and down the hall of the hotel. “I don’t want to hear a single one of your lame excuses! I don’t want a fancy dinner, or a new Porsche, or a mansion, or whatever else makes your dick hard!”

Peter blinked rapidly, stunned. His body responded as if she had just kicked him in the place she referenced, “Jus’lemme—”

“And I sure as hell don’t want another apology!” she asserted definitively. “I don’t want you anywhere near me!”

Peter’s jaw hung open, tongue dead in his mouth. The woman who barely stood at his collarbone stared down at him, making him feel inches tall.

“Now, I’m going to bed. Exactly as I have been for the last four months.” Her voice thundered, “Alone!”

With that, the door slammed in his face, rattling inches from his nose. The echo reverberated through the empty hallway and inside his chest, emphasizing the deep crack that formed.

Peter let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. The shock subsided slowly, and his heart sank. The ache soon sizzled into a burn, boiling his blood. At the same time, the sting of her rejection was raw. Unbearable.

Unbelievable.

Absolutely unacceptable.

He should break down the fucking door. Throw her over his shoulder and tie her up. Gag her—Anything to get her to listen.

Haplessly, Peter’s eyes fell on his expensive shoes—his Valentinos. Or maybe these were the Tom Ford’s? He had no clue. Just more bullshit.

Fuck—He was going to cry. Maybe he should let himself just do it. Lean into it. Drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness. Shoulders slumped, he squeezed his eyes closed.

He was a little bitch.

Peter pictured a door closing on a rocket or an airplane. Whatever it was, it was leaving him behind. He was falling back to Earth, having placed too much faith in miracles. This was his punishment for flying that close to the sun—

The door swung open.

Two hands grabbed Peter’s jacket, pulling him forward off his heels. It was a surprisingly fluid motion; his heartbreak had reduced the mass of his bones to nothing.

Honey’s nails practically pierced his lapels. She yanked him through the doorway into the suite, slamming the door behind him, and slamming him into the door right after.

Before Peter could open his mouth to speak, she was on him like a viper.

A sharp, biting kiss swallowed him whole, stealing the oxygen from his lungs. The heat was as intense as he had remembered. This time, they didn’t melt into one another. Honey was like a wildfire, her touch scalding him.

His skin flushed from the sudden unbearable heat. Before he could react, her lithe fingers started tugging the edges of his jacket. Clumsily, she tried pushing it back over his broad shoulders. As soon as he knew of her intent, he eagerly obliged, shrugging the garment off and to the floor.

Her hands went to his throat, ebony-painted nails leaving trails on his skin. Buttons popped as she yanked on his clothes. Her goal could have been to draw blood with her kiss.

Every time her teeth tore at his lips, he responded with a groan into her mouth.

Clumsy, he fumbled with his fingers—reaching up to grip her by the hair. Finally, he wrenched her head back, detaching her bite from his face.

Immediately, he was met with an open-palmed slap on the cheek.

Sharp gasps cut through them, and they jumped backward a few feet. Tension and shock reverberated in the chasm they created. Like the barometric pressure plunging before a storm, an eerie calm settled over them.

Honey blinked at him, jaw agape and her palm throbbing.

Peter glared at her in silence. He looked a mess—hair unkempt, the top buttons of his shirt torn open to reveal jagged crimson scratch marks across his milky skin.

His heartbeat steadily increased as he gently dabbed his fingertips at the ache in his jaw. The exquisite lines of his face were stained pastel pink, flushed by arousal or anger. His eyes were black as night, so it could have been either one.

She looked just as wrecked. Dress askew, her hairstyle half-unraveled. Goosebumps dotted her skin. She looked shocked at the violence she was capable of, surprised and possibly guilty at her own strength. As the seconds passed, the feelings faded.

Peter watched her, pupils dilating, blood pressure rising. The shadow of a smile curved his mouth. His features darkened into something primal. Something familiar.

There’s my girl.

Slowly, he lowered his hand, studying her threatening look until his own expression began to match.

Physically, his senses were haywire. Danger, excitement, and a sick sort of pleasure rattled his bones and labored his breathing. The hairs on his skin stood on end. Alarms blared in his head. The sound of his own blood was almost deafening to him, thumping like a kick drum.

Peter could hear her heart, too. Fast. Like a rabbit. He was a wolf in pursuit.

Maybe the pain of her slap triggered him, a preemptive action against further attack.

She got one in, Peter mused mockingly. He knew she was no match. Not as Peter’s night vision sharpened. Not while he could taste the salt from her perspiration on his tongue. Most intoxicating of all, Peter could smell her desire. Like a rose bursting open.

In another blink, they switched positions. Peter snatched her by her shoulders and slammed her back into the wall, pinning her there. She went feral—hissing and raging at her entrapment.

Not a rabbit. A honey badger, then.

“Get off of me!” Honey spat.

“Shut up,” he ordered. Quiet and fierce.

Fingers gripping her forearms tight, he attacked her lips, teeth colliding. The ferocity stunned her. For a moment, it seemed like she finally submitted to him before she wriggled her mouth free.

“Mmffucker—Let me go!”

His body might as well have been a brick wall. His face was stonelike, eyes just as cold.

“No.”

Honey’s brow scrunched up like a petulant child throwing a tantrum. “I’ll scream!” she countered.

Peter smirked, the hickory in his eyes igniting. “Baby. You have no idea.”

Peter’s guarantee sent a shiver down Honey’s spine. He saw the gears turning in her mind as she carefully considered pushing him further.

He hoped she would.

His fingers tightened around her forearms. He crucified her under his gaze. And yet, despite the danger anyone else would have felt... A glimmer of curiosity flickered in her eyes.

It set his mind reeling. A tiny sign of weakness to temptation made Peter’s stomach trapeze. He zeroed in on it, licking his chops.

Not to make it easy, Honey brought her knee up, attempting to make contact with his groin. There was nearly a foot of difference between their heights, and she paid it no mind.

Brave girl.

Peter admired her tenacity. She had balls. Smart, too, he pleasantly recognized. Honey went for the weak spot first. Good call.

Pointless, though.

Nothing below Peter’s belt was weak when she was around.

Unfairly, Peter picked up on her attack before her leg was even bent. He snatched her above the knee, lifting her toes off the ground and prying her thighs open.

He pictured the bruises on her skin that his fingertips would leave behind. Just the thought made him rock hard.

A year ago, Peter would have been ashamed. He would have shied away from her, for fear of repulsing her, and took out his frustration by himself in the shower.

Grinding his teeth at those memories, he pressed Honey’s hips into his waist, forcing her legs around him, and—Fuck—her heat.

Peter’s brain nearly short-circuited. She was like a bonfire against his belly. His cock pushed against his trousers, straining for her warmth. He secured her hips to his with a tight grip, which only pissed her off more. She thrashed, enraged.

She really needed to stop doing that. It only made the burn worse.

A few months ago, Peter would have been ashamed of the rush he felt from manhandling her. Ashamed of how his cock ached and twitched at her fruitless tantrums.

“Fucking asshole!” Honey sneered.

“Yeah?” he said with a bitter laugh. “You're a spoiled little brat!”

“Fuck you!”

“See what I mean?” Peter scoffed, holding her tighter. He breathed hotly into the shell of her ear. “Not even a ‘please.’”

His pride was short-lived. Inexplicably, Honey arched her neck and buried her teeth into his shoulder. He roared—“Fuck! What the fuck!!??” —surprised she didn’t bite through the silk of his collared shirt.

Apparently, he wasn’t the only beast in the room.

They tumbled down ungracefully. Peter landed hard on his back, with Honey crashing on top of him. She collapsed on his lungs, knocking the wind from his chest. Sputtering, he reached out to grab her, his fingertips barely missing the hem of her dress. The small woman scrambled to her hands and knees, then to her feet.

Honey dashed into the suite while Peter’s voice echoed—“Goddamnitareyacrazy!?”—after her.

Padding on her toes, she ran into a darkened living room with vaulted ceilings that might have been large enough to fit her entire apartment. Outside glass walls, the Midtown skyline surrounded her. The Metlife and Empire State Buildings glittered proudly in a breathtaking view.

The room was situated in the corner of the building. Velvet curtains framed the floor-to-ceiling windows, providing an unobstructed view of the city. The Dark Academia-Meets-Glam aesthetic seating area featured a sleek, modern leather sectional and mod velvet chaise lounge chat set.

Without time to admire any of it, she scrambled to the first piece of furniture she could reach. She grabbed the first thing her fingers could find—a designer fruit bowl centerpiece made of polished stainless steel and brass pomegranates.

It was exquisite and expensive.

Honey spun on her heel and flung the heavy metal at Peter.

He dipped deftly, his spine bowing back, narrowly missing the bowl as it whipped past him. The object barreled through a crystal chandelier, glass shattering like raindrops as they came down.

“Hey—!” he scowled, facing her with an indignant glare.

A moment later, he quickly shielded his face from another flying object: an asymmetrical crystal-and-Riverstone candelabra that crumbled against his forearm. It might as well have been a brick, with ceramic shards tumbling off of his shoulder.

Peter bristled in aggravation, brushing the pieces off. Now, she was really pissing him off.

He glanced up just in time to see a glass vase containing two dozen roses—meant to be her gift—hurtling towards his head. Reflexively, he snatched it from the air with one hand, water and all. He palmed the crystal vase like catching a baseball. Didn’t spill a drop.

His quick reflexes stunned the both of them. Peter’s jaw went slack—partially at his ability to save the flowers, but mostly with indignation that Honey had somehow destroyed $1,000 worth of the hotel’s tchotchkes in a few seconds.

“Enough!” Peter barked, carefully setting the vase down. Ignoring him, the woman darted toward another side table, already reaching for another expensive object to throw at him.

Suddenly, Honey’s ankle was caught in a sticky grip. Both legs pulled out from beneath her. She flattened immediately with an ooof—her belly dropping to the wool carpet.

Dazed, she glanced back at her legs with a crease in her brow. With a jolt, she was pulled along by a stringy, spongy substance on her ankle. It felt the way canned compressed air feels when shooting skin at close range.

Her nails dug into the carpet fibers as she was dragged back. “Agghhh! What the—Getitoff!”

As soon as the pulling stopped, Honey was on her back again, gazing up at the sharp lines of Peter’s cold gaze. He towered over her, even on his knees, as he mounted her hips. Protesting, she pelted him tirelessly with her fists.

The smell of sweat loomed in the air as he finally restrained her. He caged her in, pinning her wrists to the floor. Nerves buzzing and tempers flaring, she continued to writhe and wrestle with him to no avail. Peter quickly overpowered the more petite woman, fomenting her anger.

“You’re hurting me!” she sneered breathlessly, teeth gritted.

Peter was unimpressed. “Liar.”

“M’not lying—!”

He glared back, barely breaking a sweat. “You’re so full of shit—!”

“Fuck you! What do you know—?”

“I know you, Honey!” he charged, silencing her.

She went still, subdued beneath his dark gaze. Peter loomed over her like a stormcloud. “I know the games you like to play,” he said—both teasing and sinister, toying with his prey. He lowered his lips until they breathed the same air.

Honey’s focus was split between Peter’s intense stare and glistening, kiss-ravaged mouth. She tried not to notice the sensation of her nipples brushing against the fabric with each labored breath. He could easily reach down and touch her. Tried not to focus on how solid his chest felt against hers, like carved marble. Tried not to focus on the dark chocolate of his eyes melting in the heat of their gaze.

Just as intensely, Peter watched her watch him—zeroing in on the idle way her tongue darted to wet her lips. The tiny action shot electricity down his spine, straight to his groin.

Honey felt that, too. A tiny gasp escaped her, her lashes fluttering. The fight suddenly left her arms as she noticed the heavy bulge against her hip.

He was hot. Not just figuratively. Feverishly hot. He was so hard, too—and just for her. The lewd image of him splitting her open on his cock made her insides clench.

Peter eyed her dangerously, his voice a dark abyss. “Think you can hide it from me, eh?” The teasing smile on his lips bordered on a snarl. “Gonna sit here an’tell me... that if I were to reach down between your legs right now...” Her heart hammered in her chest, hanging on every word. In her mind, she was begging him to follow through with the threat. “...Those panties won’t be soaked?”

Honey failed to swallow back a little mewl as he leaned down closer.

“Ya think I can’t feel ya, huh?” he mumbled, lips ghosting the curve of her throat. “Think I can’t smell how wet you are right now?” Another wanton exhale left her belly as she leaned into the heat of his breath on her skin. “Y’know I can already taste you on my tongue, babygirl.”

Honey’s mouth and legs seemed to part further at his vulgar words. She shivered at the sensation of his slick tongue traversing her pulse point.

“You’re... an asshole...” she murmured breathlessly. She sounded half-asleep.

Peter hissed, “And you’re a needy little slut, aren't’cha?”

The sudden ferocity made her eyes unintentionally roll back. A second later, Peter’s fingers collared her, choking off the small mewl in her throat. He turned her by the chin, wrenching her attention to him.

“Hey—Eyes on me,” he commanded.

Mesmerized, Honey blinked up at him like a fawn.

“How ‘bout that little stunt you pulled with the waiter?” he prodded. There was an icy edge on the last word. Her throat bobbed while she kept her face neutral. The bright amber of his glare penetrated her. Peter continued accusatorily, “Those flirty little giggles while he gave ya fuck-me eyes? Y’think I didn’t see that?”

Honey sniffed, stiffening her upper lip. This was a power move; she knew better than to back down. “Look who's jealous,” she scoffed.

With a jolt, she again attempted to wrench her wrists free. He simply held on tighter, closing his talons as she twisted like a snake.

“Jealous?” Peter repeated calmly, narrowing his eyes into slits. “Me? Nah.” His hands suddenly seized her hips as he forcibly jerked her up off the floor. A slew of profanities spilled from her mouth, bucking against him as he carried her.

In a few strides, he was at the edge of a dining table. With little regard for his barbarity, he plopped Honey on the surface, shoving her flat on her back. Peter arched over her as if to dominate her, spine bowing until he filled her periphery with his fierce gaze.

Honey’s eyes sparkled, cheeks colored from the rush. “Threatened, then!”

Peter’s face softened inexplicably. Blinked at her for a moment, head tilting. Then, he landed an open-palmed smack against her ass.

It was a surprisingly heavy blow, as close as he’d ever come to intentionally inflicting pain on her. Honey yelped, hissing from the sting on her upper thigh. Right after the strike, Peter’s fingers began kneading her flesh, soothing the welt that was bound to form.

“See, if I were a jealous man,” he noted with an evil sneer, “I woulda gouged his eyes out with a salad fork.”

Peter swallowed up her gasp with a forceful kiss. A few moments later, he broke away.

“If I felt threatened?” he added breathlessly, “I woulda bent you over the table and fucked you dumb. Let everyone in the Five Boroughs hear you beg for my cock.”

Once the filth rolled off his tongue, Peter went back to using it to lash against hers. Honey was overwhelmed by the soft, wet muscle invading her mouth. Not only that, the violent edge to his words felt like standing in a river and grabbing a livewire. A shiver racked through her body, a current of pent-up anger and desire sending blood rushing to her core.

As if on cue, Peter’s fingertips made contact with the lace fabric between her thighs. She tremored at his touch, heart skipping. He toyed with the soft, stretchy material. Snapped it lazily against her flesh.

His voice was hypnotizing. “I woulda shoved these dirty panties down his throat just to never hear his stupid fuckin’ accent again.”

Honey felt drunk off of the vitriol he poured into her ear. It was violent and possessive... and it shouldn’t have made her so horny, and yet—

Honey trembled with anticipation, panting like a bitch in heat. “I-I... can’t... ugh, fu—”

The pads of his fingers ran firmly along her seam. She let out an embarrassing whine. Peter's prediction was spot-on. A shameful amount of wetness coated the inside of her thighs. He played with the soaked fabric and smeared her mess across her skin with a smug smirk.

“Think I don’t know what you like?” he muttered darkly, echoing her earlier jab.

RIP!

The lace bunched at her waist. Honey’s wet skin felt particularly chilled being exposed to the air. She quivered with anticipation. Her head was spinning, pussy throbbing. She felt worshiped and simultaneously defiled.

Peter pressed his forehead into hers, skin-to-skin. She stared into the black of his eyes in suspended silence, like the pornographic thoughts in his head were being projected into her mind.

Her own pupils were blown black. “Fuckin’ hate you so much—”

“I don’t care.”

“—re’such an asshole—”

“I don’t care,” he repeated more firmly. Then, “You belong with me.”

“You left me!” she fired back.

The sharpness of her tone sobered him a little. He blinked and sighed. “I couldn’t leave you. I didn’t leave you.”

She attempted to sit up, trying to lift her shoulders unsuccessfully. She writhed with spite, “Fuckin’ selfish prick, I outta cut off—”

“What was my drink order?”

He blurted the last sentence out with a mind-blowing level of calm. At once, their bodies went still. Still pinned to the table with a hummingbird beneath her breast, Honey stared up at him in confusion.

Her brows pinched together. “Huh—?”

“My drink order,” Peter repeated, his expression void of the aggression he had the previous moment.

It was like a mask had fallen away, and the man on top of her transformed into a different person. Maliciousness evaporated, replaced by eagerness. Desperation.

Peter stared at her, intently searching her gaze. “At the shop,” he whispered, eyes soft. “What you used to make for me every time I came t’see you..?” The words fell away as he stared at her expectantly.

She arched a brow.

It had been black coffee, bitter and dark. Just like Peter’s entire world. How it had always been. Until—

“You said I should try something new,” he added, with urgency like reminding her of a forgotten dream. “So you made something for me—something... special.”

Peter’s heart swelled through his eyes at the last word. Honey stared up at him, perplexed. He was looking for the answer on the tip of her tongue:

Honey and Lavender.

Confusion ceded to aggravation. A line formed between Honey’s brows.

“You remember, right?” he asked, hopeful.

She did. He knew she did. He could see it at the corners of her eyes, pooling behind her eyelids. Sobering memories flooded her, cooling the heat between them. A different sort of ache settled in.

Reluctantly, she nodded.

He took a breath, relieved but still anxious. “Say those words,” he said, “if you really want me to stop.”

Her damp lashes fluttered as Honey blinked up at him in surprise. Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, he swallowed dryly. His stomach lurched at the thought of being sent away like this.

Still, it was a risk he had to take.

“I can let go, walk away,” he offered tenderly. “Right now. No questions asked.” Each word felt like sticking needles through his tongue. He gave her an out, needing confirmation that her reciprocated lust wasn’t imagined.

“Say the words,” Peter whispered in lament, “and I’ll leave you alone.”

That word settled like a boulder crushing his chest.

Despite Peter’s heart telling him her rejection would be unbearable, the thought of truly harming her was more so.

Honey studied him with thoughtful eyes, contemplative and curious. He had won. He subdued her. Restrained her. She remembered when he threw a piano like a toddler throwing a toy truck.

She could do little to stop him if he wanted to force her. And yet—

There he is.

This was the man she remembered. The one that was ready to die for her. To die by her hand, if that’s what she wanted.

“Two words,” Peter sighed, his nose brushing against hers. It was a sweetly affectionate gesture. “Say the words, and this can end right n—”

Honey captured his lips, stealing his breath like it was her only source of oxygen. Static filled Peter’s ears, his body tensing and relaxing simultaneously. He was soaring and plummeting. Rising and falling.

Her tongue slipped past his lips, dragging along the pad of his mouth. Soon enough, the sweetness melted off in their flames.

Honey pulled her mouth away, barely able to get out her plea. “Touch me, Peter. Make me feel it.”

And she dove right back in. This time, Peter plunged with her, deep beneath the waves of lust. He sank into her current, dragging her with the tide of desire.

Peter’s hands were frantic travelers. Flitting from her wrists to her shoulders. To gently cup her face. To smooth over the mounds of her breasts. To dig his fingers into the linen fabric of the sweetheart neckline.

“Love this dress,” he idly mumbled between kisses, abusing the neckline. “Mmm—where’d ya say ya got it?”

“Oh…uhm—?”

The question caught her off guard. She blushed, brain foggy with lust. Her instinct was to say something like ‘thank you,’ but her tongue fumbled the words. “Uh... it was, I think, Old Navy—?”

A ripping sound shocked her. She squeaked as a flurry of cotton fibers burst from the top of the dress.

Peter yanked the linen bodice apart like tissue paper, his tongue chasing away any protest from her lips. Gooseflesh broke out as her skin was exposed to the air. Driven by lust, he shoved the ruined material down to her waist.

“Fuck, Peter...” she gasped, scandalized.

“Sorry,” he muttered, not sorry.

It was his turn to be greedy. Peter dug his hands beneath the cups of her bra, toying with the peaks of her breasts.

With a snap, the bra was torn in half. The strength in Peter’s long fingers stunned her. Puzzling her as much as it turned her on.

He laved at her left breast with his tongue, drawing an obscene moan from her. His hand pinched sadistically at her right nipple. The delectable sting traveled from her chest to her cunt. She arched—”ughhh, god”—her spine bowing beautifully.

He held the cleft of her left breast delicately in his hand while lapping at the ridges of her peaked flesh. Warm tongue caressed the tip, drawing shapes and discovering pathways to her pleasure. Every little flick inspired something new. She cooed and twitched beneath him. He was desperate to memorize her taste.

Languidly, he massaged each of her tits inside his mouth, his cock aching as he imagined licking her pussy with the same fervor. It was almost unbearable. A strangled moan vibrated through his chest at the picture in his mind.

Her reaction to the sound came out as an agonized mewl.

Oh.

He needed more of that sound.

Peter felt her push on his shoulders. Trying to wriggle away from his mouth.

This time, he had no tolerance for misbehavior. He grabbed both wrists and forced them above her head. Honey yanked back, stunned at being glued down to the table surface by his palms.

The peach of his pouty lips curved upward as his eyes took a turn ravishing her. She was a sight of wicked debauchery. Her hair was a mess, and her nearly-naked body lay across the table like a feast. Her thighs locked around his hips.

He used one hand to rub circles into the delicate skin of her restrained forearms. The other hand mischievously dipped lower and lower, sliding through her wet heat. Calloused, dexterous fingers spread her lips open, playing in her slick and prodding her tight hole.

Honey was finished. Ruined. Past the point of no return. Unconditionally surrendered. Helpless and eager to subjugate herself to her conqueror. Filthy sounds filled the room, punctuated by weak cries from his new loyal subject.

“So pretty,” he sighed breathlessly as he coated his fingers in her cream. “All this for me, princess?” He cooed at her, edging on cruel.

A broken gasp fell from her lips, her chest pulsing involuntarily.

“Aww, what’s the matter? Does this little pretty pussy ache, baby?”

A vortex formed deep in her belly, dragging her in. He licked his dry lips, salivating at the image.

“I know it hurts, baby, I know. I know,” he teased. “It’s been hard playin’ all by yourself, huh?” The sunniness of his voice was eclipsed. “All alone. Screamin’ out my name into your pillow. Fingers buried deep in your wet cunt.”

Honey’s eyes snapped open. Before she could respond, the breadth of his middle fingertip penetrated her. She gasped as his finger speared her open. All the while, he wore a devil’s smile.

“Ain’t that right? Only for me.” Entranced, he watched her every twitch and shudder. “This pussy belongs to me, doesn’t it?”

It was a question feigning the need for her confirmation. She couldn't answer. Couldn't breathe.

No, that can’t be right—had he been watching her masturbate in her apartment? Was he watching her the entire time he was gone?

The possibility enraged her. Ten orgasms from the King of New York’s Underworld couldn’t even quell that fire.

Peter smiled wickedly, playing with her pussy. Taking his time toying with her flesh. He was a tyrant-king, dominating her pleasure. With a calloused hand, he held onto her cunt like it belonged there.

But she was his wild colt. Difficult to break.

“Oh-n—ohh god,” she gasped. Unbeknownst to him, an evil plot bloomed in her brain. Her lips curled into a smile.

“Fuck—gah—ohhhhh…”

He licked up each broken syllable.

“Yes! Oh, god, yes! Oh—”

Sweat beaded on her chest, sin oozing through her pores.

“...Pedro.”

Halt.

Brakes squealing. Full stop. Not only in the physical world between them but also in Peter’s living fantasy.

Mischievously, Honey’s grin widened.

She got him, alright.

Flawless victory.

Dark eyes flashing, Peter withdrew his fingers from her. “Fuckin’ brat…”

In one fluid motion, Peter flipped her over to her belly, stunning her. He followed with another forceful slap to her ass cheek. This one was more punishing than the last, drawing a puppy-like yelp. His voice was ice. Eyes black.

Now, she was in trouble.

“Think that’s funny?” he said through gritted teeth.

Peter manipulated her limbs like a rag doll. He maneuvered her forward until her cheekbone pressed against the table. She panicked for a moment at being in such a compromising position.

The chill of the air across her wet pussy made her shiver. At the same time, she clenched at his roughness.

Peter kneaded her sides, pressing fingerprint bruises on her waist. He yanked her hips towards him until her knees were on the table’s edge. Honey’s face burned, stricken with modesty and flustered by how he hoisted her ass in the air.

Her hips were propped up like a rack of lamb, and he licked his lips at the sight. It was too vulnerable, being bared to him like this. Obscene, on display, inches from his face.

For a half second, she considered using the safe words.

She squirmed uncomfortably while her mess dripped down the inside of her thighs. Peter denied any attempt to escape, eventually gathering her limbs and pulling her hands behind her back.

Short puffs of breath fogged the glass surface of the table. Her heart pounded beneath her. Honey had only witnessed this side of him a few times—and never directed toward her.

She was in trouble. But was she in danger?

The buckle of his belt clinked as it came free. Honey quivered at the sound, pussy aching in anticipation.

And if she was in danger, why did that make her wet?

“Pete—” Honey muttered, a scream bubbling at the back of her throat. Leather nipped at her forearms as he used his belt to tie her hands behind her back.

“Ple-please—“

He fisted her hair, rearing her head back. Her neck arched beautifully, her chin dangling above the table surface.

“Listen to me, princess,” Peter snarled, hot in her ear. Spite peppered his tone. “If you ever call out another man’s name when I’m inside ya again— I’ll make ya wear nothin’ but my cum for the next week.”

The savage tone contrasted with the glow of his eyes.

It was always opposites with him.

This was the same man who coddled and worshiped her. The same one who kidnapped her, drugged her, blindfolded her, and gagged her.

He forced her, a willing participant, into his bed—by asking her permission.

Peter was more than capable of keeping her chained to his bedpost if he wanted it.

Or… if she wanted it.

Peter snickered at her expression. “Ooh, yeah… Betchu’d like that, huh?” He taunted her like she was broadcasting her dirty thoughts. “Such a needy little slut for me, ain't that right?”

Honey felt his warmth leave her back, like being plunged into the Hudson in winter. His hands reappeared at the back of her thighs, and her first instinct was to try to close her legs.

That was a mistake and an impossible endeavor.

He split her thighs like opening a book. Grinned at the sight as if he stumbled across gold.

“Fuck, babygirl, you’re soaked. Just talkin’ about it and look at the mess you made…”

Embarrassment and want ravaged her. The conflicting experiences had her ovaries twisted into knots. Honey bit her tongue, unsure if she was going to scream or moan.

Instead, it came out like a pathetic mewl. “Pe-Peter, please—”

Then he open-palm-smacked her cunt, fingers landing directly on her labia.

The wet sound it made was humiliating, and the sensation triggered all of the reactions above. She squealed at the sting on her folds. This was a delectable torture. For Peter, it was an appetizing sight.

“Ya like that?” he grinned over the sound of her whimpers. He already knew the answer.

Another slap to her cunt made her whole body shake.

“Like bein’ my kept girl? Tryin’ so hard to get my attention. Drivin’ me nuts. Well, you got it now, Honey.”

Slap.

A third strike had her pussy clenching. Honey had never experienced such an erotic rush before. She shuddered with embarrassment, afraid she’d cum from this—

Slap! Slap! Slap!

Honey gasped for air, a scream breaking through her voice. She was drowning in sick pleasure, tears in her eyes.

The mob boss gripped her thighs again, pulling her knees off the table and lifting up the weight of her lower half. The action was as easy as lifting a sheet of paper.

God, his strength was impossible. She struggled to comprehend it while picturing herself being broken apart by it. A slew of tiny pleas fell from her lips. She didn’t even know what she was begging for—his mercy or punishment.

“Shh, shh, babygirl,” he purred with a candy voice. Brought his lips to where she was split, equal parts seductive and sinister. “Be still for me. I gotcha.” He wore a Cheshire grin. “Lemme kiss it better.”

Slowly, he licked a line from her clit to the entrance of her cunt. She shuddered, followed by a lewd wail. She bucked her hips as he let the tip of his tongue toy with her.

“Mmmf—so fuckin’ sweet,” Peter mumbled between languid strokes around her vaginal gate. His grip was inescapable. “Can’t help myself, s-sooo hungry…”

Honey felt an evil smile against her skin before his mouth went back to work on her. Tiny, stinging nips and kitten licks tormented her flesh. With her hips locked in place, he lashed her clit with his tongue.

Honey squirmed against the leather belt, her nails digging into the grain. She wanted to be bound like this forever.

Peter had no intention of letting her go any time soon.

With her thighs spread open, he dragged her toward the edge of her ecstasy. As soon as he felt her body begin to shake, he pulled away. The punishment ended with another smack to her swollen clit.

Honey cried out in frustration at having her release snatched away.

Oh, yes—He was weak for that sound.

“What’s’a matter, baby?” he smirked with a dark chuckle. This was becoming his favorite pastime. “You mad now that you’re not the only one who can play games?”

“Gahh—Peter… fuck, plea—don’t tease—!”

Peter’s fingers slipped inside with a squelch, shutting her up. Simultaneously, he lapped at her juices while massaging her walls. Soon, he settled into an unbreakable focus.

Each kiss to her nether lips sizzled with passion. Fueled by devotion usually only reserved for a wedding day.

“—mmmm, tastes so pretty,” he murmured into her flesh, “my pretty girls...”

In her dazed state, Honey wondered with a pang of jealousy who the ‘she’ he was referring to was.

“—sooo sensitive; she likes it when I kiss her like that, yeah?—” He said, in between languid, open-mouth kisses to her slit.

Jesus Fucking Christ, he’s talking about my pussy? In the third person?

Honey gasped, scandalized at the preposterous thought. It was the most deliciously erotic moment of her life. Enraptured tears budded her eyes, the coil in her belly nearly suffocating her.

“—Fuck, oh god, Peter, don’t stop, don’stop, donstop, donstah—”

Preoccupied with his own intoxicating thoughts, Peter was eager with his tongue and steady with his hands. The room filled with the filthy, wet sounds of his carressing and French kissing of her cunt. He pleasured her with his fingers and mouth, passionately— reverently— as if making love to two different brides.

Soon, Honey’s pleas were barely more than breathless whining. He smiled like the devil, lips coated with her slick.

“Patience, Honey,” he admonished, sing-song and patronizing. “If you’re a good girl, maybe I might let you get to taste Her, too.”

Fuck—she was going to come from this.

The more perverse his words were, the closer she was. So, so close—

Then, another sharp slap.

Honey wailed, fingers digging into the leather of her restraints. Her whole body protested. The cycle repeated so many times she lost count—until her flesh was puffy from his torture.

“Please, don’t—please, Peter, don’t tease,” she frantically begged, tears streaming. “No more— Please, I wanna come so bad—”

He sucked on her clit. “Yeah?”

“God, yes, please—Nyahhh-need you—Need you... inside—“

Peter hissed behind his teeth, struggling to keep his pace even as his cock jerked at her pleas. He flashed an evil smile. “S’at right?”

“Pl-please, f-feels so good, ple—gah-I need it—!”

He was in no hurry. It was almost greedy, the way he ravaged her. His fingers pressed Merlot bruises into her hips and waist while his mouth left raspberry welts on her thighs.

Honey cried out around a moan as she felt his fingers deepen. His loving touches to her sensitive spots turned wicked, reminding her this was also a penalty for her bratty transgressions. She wept and squirmed, practically drooling on the table.

He simply grinned.

“—Mmmhm, that’s it—scream for me, princess—”

Honey’s tiny little hip thrusts fit easily in his palm as he groped her. He found it adorable, really.

“Mmm...m’sorr—ow—agh!”

“Sorry’s not gonna cut it,” he panted, eyes blown black. Shadow returned to his voice. “You’re mine now, ya hear?” His eyes traveled to where his fingers were buried to the knuckles. “Gonna fuck you every way I want—”

“Pleasepleasepleaseyes—it’syoursit’syoursallyours—”

His eyes swam over her body, drunk with lust.

All mine.

The sinfulness of his thoughts tugged his insides into a vortex. This was wrong, he reasoned. Not how he wanted this to go. Poor girl sounded brainless, begging to be fucked. He wasn’t much better off. This wasn’t how he planned this to go.

But he was willing to pivot.

Hands shaking, he fumbled with his fly. It wasn’t until his cock bobbed free, glistening with precum, that he felt any sort of relief. Peter grabbed her hips and lifted them off of the table, repositioning her so he was lined up with her slit.

“Fuckin’ need you so much, Honey—” he muttered mindlessly, focused on pushing the swollen, leaking crown of his cock against the silk of her pussy.

Her hips’ weight rested easily in his hands, and she keened at the sensation of his head pressing against her entrance.

And god, she'd forgotten he was thick.

Honey tensed up, even as her pussy throbbed with want. It was as if all her muscles were reaching for him, heart included.

It was too much. Mascara trailed faintly down her cheeks. Her heart soared. And ached. She felt spoiled with pleasure, delighting in this penance.

More. She wanted more.

“Fuck—wanted ya so bad,” Peter mumbled, watching his cock slip through her lips. He sounded airy, hypnotized by the view. “Wanted t’crawl through your window like the goddamn—ahh— boogeyman... fuck ya in your own bed. Wanted t’take’ya home with me and keep ya there— Never let you leave.”

Honey swallowed back a sob. Then why did you send me away?

He paused.

Uh-oh. Did she say that out lo—?

“Because I’m an idiot,” Peter huffed, his voice fragile.

He leaned forward and lovingly kissed up her spine, each tender press of his lips an apology.

“I’m a stupid fuckin’ fool.” The heat of his breath ghosted across her back. “So stupid—Thought I could protect ya if I kept you away. Thought I could somehow live like that—without you.” He shook his head. “Goddamn fool.”

Peter felt the sting of tears flooding his vision. Instinctively, he squeezed his eyes shut to keep them out. “I can’t live without ya,” he nearly whimpered. “There is no life for me if you’re not in it.”

“Peter,” she said, feeling her heart lurch. Her spirit was a ship being tossed in a hurricane. One more wave, and she would break. Honey’s voice trembled, “St-stop t-talking—”

“Not until I’ve said what I shoulda said—!”

“If you don’t shut up and fuck me in the next five seconds—”

Peter cut her off by pulling her up by the shoulders and standing her upright. Honey fought it—because, of course, she did—desperately clutching the steel armor around her heart.

Overpowering her again, he tugged the naked woman closer until her back lined up to his chest. It was an awkward position with her bound arms crushed behind her against his abs. He towered over her, eyeing her face from the side, seeking her gaze. Hooked a finger beneath her chin, forcing her to look him in the eye.

Always the fighter, Honey tried to wrench herself from his hold. Peter’s body was like a Greek god’s, with pillar-like arms and marble fingers keeping her from wriggling away. But his soft, soulful eyes are what pinned her in place.

As soon as she peered into their oaken color, she was trapped again.

“No,” she sneered, shaking her head. The tears weren’t from pleasure anymore. “Don’t—”

“‘Honey and Lavender,’” he whispered, featherlike. “Those are the words. All you gotta do is say ‘em, and I’ll stop.”

She gritted her teeth, bucking against his sweetness. His arms wrapped around her torso, pulling her in.

“I thought you wanted to fuck me!” she revolted, voice getting weaker by the second. “What the hell do you want from me, Peter?!”

His features softened. Serenity pressed between his lips. “I want all of you, Honey,” he answered with resolve. “Body and soul. Wanna spend the rest of my life with ya. If you don’t kill me first.”

He said the ‘if’ part with a teasing lilt in his tone and a half-smile. The same smirk that she loathed—and fell in love with.

Honey squeezed her eyes shut. Peter’s thumb came up gently, wiping a messy tear from her cheek. That loving and pure act was worse than any torture he could inflict.

Walls tumbling down, her body loosened. She went slack against his arms, instead fighting to keep more tears from flowing.

“I love you,” he whispered, pouring his soul into each word. “Forever. Remember? No matter what.”

Peter waited for her eyelids to peel back, revealing glossy eyes and a weary expression. They stayed still for eons. Nothing but their breaths and heartbeats between them, eyes locked on each other.

“Even if you’re mad as hell at me,” he added. “Even if you hate me—I want it all.”

Her lower lip wobbled. “And what then, Peter? What now?”

A moment passed. He leaned around her shoulder, bringing her chin close, and answered her with a kiss. Gentle at first, his tongue explored hers as she relaxed against him. She felt her toes leave the ground before she realized what was happening.

Peter broke the kiss. “Now?” he breathed into her hairline. “I’m gonna show you what it means to be mine.”

One of his hands left her torso—borrowed to push the head of his cock into her gate. An overwhelming burn erupted between her legs. She arched her back away from his abs as best she could while being split open.

Honey wailed brokenly, voice shattered, as he bottomed out. Peter’s hand instinctively came up to cover her mouth. She let the scream out into his palm, just as he’d promised.

Peter hissed, letting his head fall back in agonized ecstasy. His eyes drifted shut, feeling both relief and torment buried to the hilt in her warmth.

He barely ground out, “Shh-shhh, s’alright... that’s it, s-so good, so good for me...”

His Honey was already writhing on his cock, and he hadn’t even begun to move. She was so goddamn tight he wasn’t sure he wanted to move at all.

Still, he couldn’t help indulging himself. Never could, around her.

The arm bracing Honey’s torso snaked back across her body. His hand, burning hotter than a branding iron, stretched out and smoothed over the curvature of her belly. Her pussy clenched tighter as his palm found the trophy he was looking for—an obscene bulge in her lower stomach.

A slow, sinful curve played upon his lips. “Fuck, babygirl. Look at you.” When he uncovered her mouth, her roars had quieted down to a wanton purr. He gently tilted her head downwards so she could witness the depravity herself. “Just look at how you take my dick, Honey.”

She shuddered at the sight, nodding rapidly, unable to speak. She wondered if this was just more teasing, but she couldn’t think beyond the penetration.

“God, you look so beautiful like that,” he muttered breathlessly. His amber eyes were fixated on the sinful spectacle beneath her waist, unable to avert his gaze. “So pretty with my cock stuffed up inside your tummy...”

Peter sounded unhinged, even to himself. His abs twisted into knots. Vile, perverse images eclipsed his sense of decency—her body naked and wrecked, with his seed spilling from her holes. Then, her belly round with his children. Just the thought devolved him like his civilized nature was sucked back into a black hole.

Wordless whimpers poured from her lips as her taut muscles succumbed to his girth. Calloused fingertips reached further down, brushing against the hood of her clit. She jolted in his arms with the slightest touch.

At that moment, Honey’s world disappeared. Nothing existed but the exquisite ache between her legs.

The conquerer inside him preened. “Is that the spot? Is that where it hurts, baby?” he purred into her ear with a filthy, predatory voice. Her body answered him, rewarding him with a delicious squeeze around his shaft. “That’s it,” Peter groaned, insatiable. “Good girl. So good for me.”

His praise, even if it was teasing, was too much. Peter’s affirmations, paired with his ministrations, tightened the coil in her stomach. Exhaustion crept up on her body even as the bubble of desire swelled.

Ever so slowly, his hips pitched back and then forward. He bottomed out again at the end of the languid stroke. A shattered mewl burst from her lips, pussy pulsating around his dick.

She was magnificent.

”Fuck, baby. Feels s-so fuckin’ good—ahh, I missed this tight pussy so much. Wanted to play with her so bad…”

Peter’s hips moved of their own accord. They were a pornographic masterpiece in the decorative mirrors situated around the room. He stole a greedy glance at the couple’s reflection. Smiling wickedly, he turned her head, making her see what he was seeing.

Honey’s stomach fluttered at the sight of her body—glistening and restrained—slotted against him. Her head bobbed as Peter gripped her hips and fucked into her like a sex doll.

Perverse. Debauched. Divine. It made her lightheaded.

Slowly, he increased the pace of his thrusts, panting into her ear. At some point, she started muttering. Broken and embarrassingly desperate pleas and pet names tumbled unwittingly out of her mouth.

One of them must have caught his attention. But she honestly couldn’t remember what she had said.

“Ugh—I lose my fuckin’ mind when you call me that name,” he growled, throwing his head back. “Ya know that, precious? Such a good girl for me. Good girls get spoiled.”

Honey’s body thrummed at his baby talk. In all its depravity, she started to suspect what she must have said in all its depravity. Slowly, she was losing the ability to be ashamed.

The slick-coated pad of Peter’s thumb circled her clit, before traveling down further. He curiously prodded where they were joined—“Fuck, look at how good ya open up for me.” — His fingers trailed the outline of her stretched hymen wrapped around his cock.

Honey closed her eyes and turned away, blushing from his praise. Timid about how she relished in the filth. Peter brought his lips to her ear as if there was a secret the two of them shared.

“Don’t worry, baby. I gotcha—Daddy’s gonna make the ache go away.”

The spring snapped. She was nearly knocked over by the wave of pleasure that followed. Her pussy fluttered around his cock with no warning, body trembling and toes curling. Her cream gushed down his shaft.

He snickered as if he’d won a prize.

Honey could vaguely recognize her pathetic voice through the bells in her ears. She squealed and cried out over his repetitive, patronizing chants — “Awwgoodgirl, fuckin’ so-so perfect— squeezin’ me so tight” — while he fucked her through her orgasm.

It felt like several moments of pure pink haze, herself a willing victim to his delicious, relentless pull.

“Shit, sweetie, did you just come all over my cock?” he asked, exasperated.

Embarrassment flooded her despite her persistent mewling.

“Don’t cry, baby. Don’chu worry,” he murmured affectionately, himself obsessed with the cavern of her divine flesh. “When I said I was gonna make you my toy, I meant it.” She whimpered, nodding her head as it rested back against his shoulder. “M’not finished with you,” he said, dropping an octave. “Not by a long shot.”

Time ceased to have true meaning. Peter rammed into her steadily.

“Please don’stop, please use me, please, wan’more—” She yelped like a puppy.

He smiled against her sweaty skin. “Yeah? Ya like bein’ a good girl? My good girl?”

“I’llbegoodI’llbegoodm’yours—fuck—yoursyoursyours—”

“That’s right, sweetheart,” he groaned, with another curse beneath his breath. Eyes drifted shut. “Good, good girl.”

All he could think of was more.

More of that sound. More of her juices. More of her staccato breaths as he fucked her tits into a steady bounce on her chest. More of her whining, whimpering like a bitch in heat.

“All mine, all mine…”

Peter needed more of her. He needed to watch her fall apart on his cock again. Honey was so close already; he could feel it. He’d give her another orgasm, one that leaves her in tears. Then another. He was going to fuck her into submission atop the throne he built for her. She was already his queen.

Then—He’d make her his whore.

Flip her on her back against the table—or couch— countertop—fuck, maybe the bed if he could remember where it was. Whatever he could reach first.

Then he’d split her open again on his cock. That way, he could see the enraptured awe on her face. The neediness. Big, round, wet eyes pleading for his touch, calling him filthy names, as his cock bulges below her pubic bone. Begging him to rearrange her guts.

It was heavenly to witness. Peter loved watching her come. And he would, over and over. Once he relocated her to his bed—as soon as he remembered where it was— he could tie her to it.

Not that Honey was fighting at the present. There was no fight in her body, except maybe the will to keep conscious. With every strike against her cervix, she spread herself wider for him.

But Peter knew she would like it. Honey wanted his unforgiving ecstasy. To take out the mounting frustration of the last few months on her wet pussy.

“M’gonna fuck you so good, babygirl, m’gonna use your body like my fucktoy—make me feel s-sogood, don’worry—“

Honey full-body shuddered with a sob, her head thrown back against his shoulder.

“S’okay, baby, you can scream if y’want, makes it feel better, doesn’t it, huh—”

Cock-drunk, she nodded, her words coming out as puffs of air.

“Don’stop—don’stop—please, fuck— fuckmehardDaddyIneedit—“

Oh.

More. Of. That.

“M’not lettin’ you get away again…” he muttered, voice emerging from beneath his twitching abdominal muscles. With possessed eyes, he was glued to where they joined. “Never—never gonna let you go again… All mine now, Honey—you’re all mine…”

Her arms came up to circle the back of his neck as she panted into his throat. “My-my pussy is yours…”

“Everything,” he corrected.

“Everythi—god—I’m yours, Pete—ahh!”

Peter was getting close. No matter. He’d let himself come inside her soon. There was plenty more to follow.

He barely recognized his own wrecked voice. “’m not leavin,’ baby. I’m not leavin’ ever.”

A gust of wind followed him as the front door to the suite slammed shut. Peter stood alone in the hotel hallway wearing a sheen of sweat... and nothing else.

He flushed pink, fumbling to cover himself behind his hands. The cool air made the task easier.

Peter sighed. He’d need to talk to maintenance about better insulation up here.

But not right now. Not while Peter Parker stood ass-naked outside of his door, having been kicked out like a cheap fuck.

Which might have been Honey’s point, he recognized.

The evidence of their past hour together made his skin sticky. She’d tousled his hair and etched into his back with her nails. He felt sore in places he hadn’t felt in years.

Peter also looked thoroughly fucked. A mixture of pain and relief surged through his muscles. His brain was branded with erotic images of her. He wanted them there.

The door opened again, lifting his hopes. He only caught a fleeting glimpse of Honey, wrapped sloppily in a bathrobe. The rest of her didn’t look much better than Peter. She wore a sour yet adorable scowl on her face.

With a huff, Honey hurled a tight wad of fabric at his nuts, unintentionally intentional in her aim.

Peter oofed, doubling over to catch the ball of his clothes. At the same time, an Italian leather shoe smacked him in the head. Probably his Tom Ford’s. He heard the door slam closed again, rattling against the frame.

Perplexed, Peter gazed at the molding of the door and the gleaming golden script marking the room number.

He wondered.

Would she open the door again to throw him the other shoe?

Or perhaps the slacks that went along with the dress shirt covering his balls?

Unlikely.

He marveled.

The nerve of this woman. This goddess-barista who served him his soul in a paper cup. Who held the keys to his heart, his home, and presently, his hotel room. Who somehow managed to kick him out of the penthouse suite of his own hotel.

Within the confines of his ruined dress shirt, Peter felt another buzz. He fumbled with the shirt, reaching the smartphone concealed inside.

>>> have you moved onto the main course? >>> or are you still tossing the salad? >>> pouring ranch on her hidden valley

Felicia. Peter’s eyes nearly rolled out of his head. With a sigh, he tapped out a reply.

<<< Kitchen’s closed. <<< Need clothes. And a new room.

He saw the ellipsis bubbling up on his screen.

<<< Not another word.

As soon as the message was sent, Peter took another glance at his empty surroundings. Haplessly, he looked toward the closed door. A river of memories flooded him. It surged, swelled, and finally, came to a low simmer.

This was never going to be easy. Nothing ever was with her.

Nothing worth waiting for ever is.

“See you at breakfast,” he whispered aloud lips curled into a smile. “Sleep tight.”

Holding her breath and her ear to the door, Honey waited until Peter’s footsteps faded. When she could no longer hear them, she sighed with exasperation, overcome with exhaustion. Eyes falling closed, Honey leaned back against the door, body aching in places she would feel for days.

After taking a moment, she heard a buzzing sound further in the suite. Honey jumped with alarm, then stumbled on Fawn’s feet to reach the source.

Quickly, Honey waddled to the remains of her yellow dress, fishing out the buzzing object: a 10-year-old smartphone with a black glittery hard case. A holographic cat sticker was fixed to the back, shimmering in the dim light.

Not just any cat.

She unlocked the phone to see the latest message.

>>> how’d it go? u give him hell?

The heaviest exhale left Honey’s chest, shame creeping up her chest. With her thumb, she scrolled up to review the text messages sent to her. The oldest of which dated back almost four months.

Weeks of correspondence and reassurance from Felicia, not to mention very clear instructions about Peter Parker and how to play his game.

There was the one from last month:

>>> don’t let him think for one second that you’re gonna let him get off easy!

Then one from last week:

>>> make him suffer. make him grovel. make him lay down in a puddle so you can cross

And these:

>>> go to dinner, but don’t eat anything. order wine, the most expensive one, take one sip and refuse the rest. you pick the restaurant. if he picks the restaurant, hate everything about it >>> play hard to get— but don’t be too cold >>> be flirty. but not slutty. >>> give him bedroom eyes, but don’t let him stare at you too long.

Finally, there was a clear instruction sent earlier today.

>>> under no circumstances >>> no matter what >>> you need to remember this >>> DO NOT FUCK HIM!!1

Honey frowned as she gazed at Felicia’s text message bubble, sent with so much hope and good intention. A notion soundly defeated. A truly hopeless endeavor, if there ever was one.

Biting her lip, Honey tapped out a reply to her confidant:

<<< Sure did.

Thank you for everything you do. Please keep fanfic healthy and support my writing with a reblog.

#my babies have returned!!#i have no self control #i need the dopamine #i also need therapy #but i just love these two too much to care #lizzy writes.#lizzy writes! sugar and vice #💬 sugar and vice #tasm peter parker #spider man #peter parker #andrew garfield #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker #peter parker x reader

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tmntxthings · 3 years ago

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eeee !!

that’s so exciting, okay,,, cause most folks only do rise or bayverse stuff!

anyways! Would you be up for doing a 2012 donnie x reader where he’s doing patrols and meets the reader because they quite literally fall for him? Like, he’s out doing nightly patrols, and the reader is looking over the roof of their apartment at him like “ᗡᗡ: it’s him again?” but then like the railing wobbles and they go whooosh and are like “?!!?” And he looks up and is like “?? Ayo?? *catch* ????? Is this just normal human behavior???”

Purple Savior

author’s note: my first 2012 request, :D lesssss goooooo, hehe hope you enjoy~~~

warnings: slight cursing, cute meet, fluff

> part two <

—————————————————————————

It was a nice night in New York City and you had your window open as far as it could go. Being on the top floor had its perks, though you didn’t know if it beat having to walk up six flights of stairs multiple times a day. You sighed, smiling as you ducked your head deciding to go up the fire escape to the roof. Just for a couple of minutes, then you’d settle in for the night.

Fall was your favorite season. The night air finally turning with the tides and becoming cooler. As you made your way there you noticed how rickety the climb was and the railings on the roof were even worse. It made you a little nervous but once on the roof you let out your breath. “Wow!” You said astonished to see a couple of stars, it was a clear night sky. The view was nice as you walked around the entire perimeter of your rooftop. Peering over the railings but refraining from touching, they looked pretty rusty.

And it was as you had been turning to head back to the stairs you saw movement in your peripheral. Staying quiet you looked around, wondering if you had just been seeing things. But off in the distance you saw something! You squinted and rushed back the way you came, coming to a stop at the ledge of the roof. It was a figure far off but coming closer, it looked to be moving pretty fast.

But about four rooftops away, the figure made a sharp turn. Purple, you noted the bandana waving in the wind, thanks to the clear night sky and the bright moon. You watched as whoever it was jumped from building to building, easily scaling over the alleyways. “Holy!” You breathed out to yourself in amazement. And then they were out of sight! You wondered how crazy someone had to be, to actually jump rooftops. You looked at the apartment complex next to yours, and peered down at the drop. Shivering you shook your head, yeah they had to be pretty insane or maybe just super talented?

The next night, you were back out on your roof. Yes… you were hoping to see some crazy jumping action. BUT, this time you would be a little braver, maybe call out to them at a safe time obviously, not mid-jump or right before. But just to, well you didn’t really know, maybe say how you cool/insane they were for parkouring whole buildings and at night too!

So when you saw the figure make the same sharp turn you called out, “Hi!” and you didn’t really know what you had expected, but you hadn’t thought the figure would freeze and then take off as fast as possible without turning back. Your mouth dropped open. Well, that went dandy! You sighed, guessing you’d never see them again if they were so totally antisocial to not even wave. You didn’t know why you waited around, thinking maybe they’d come back, curious, but when you saw nothing but pigeons you gave up. Calling it a night.

The third night was probably the worst, it had been raining but you still couldn’t stop yourself from just checking. It seemed you and the stranger had a similar schedule when it came to going out onto rooftops. With your god damn umbrella, you climbed the fire escape. Once on the roof you realized the rain was kind of coming in at a slant, and the wind was trying to pull the umbrella from your grasp and you wondered if it was worth losing or just going ahead and getting drenched. You’d need the umbrella in the future, so rather than letting it blow away you quickly closed it. Flinching at the cold rain as you tried to see past just the neighboring rooftops.

Pointless! It had all been pointless you thought as you shivered like a wet dog and stomped back to the stairs. Stupid! You thought, no parkourist would jump buildings in this condition, that was like a death wish. But as you reached the stairs you looked up, and perched on the rooftop you hadn’t been facing was a figure, in a crouched position. You gasped and they went reeling back, falling behind the ledge and out of view. “Hello!? Are you okay?” You called out, hope rekindling. But as the minutes ticked by, you realized the stranger wasn’t going to show themselves nor talk. Even as you went back down to your window, into your room, you couldn’t help but smile, at least they were back!

It wasn’t until the seventh night when everything changed. The closest they came was two rooftops away and you leaned against the rusty old railing despite your early reservations. The only distinguishing feature that you could glean was the purple bandana! Everything else was dark and shadowy. So you thought maybe if you leaned just a bit closer, somehow-

The railing made a low groaning noise. “Huh?” You said peering down and suddenly things were happening fast. You were falling and screaming and then you weren’t falling?? But still very much screaming as a voice said, “I’ve got you!” trying to quiet you or maybe reassure you. Your eyes were closed tight and you jerked at the sound, “Am I dead??” You asked shakily. “Alive and well!” The voice said laughing slightly. Finally you opened your eyes, the first thing you noticed was the purple, “Hey! You’re the-“

And then you noticed the green, a whole lot of green, and how you were now in an alleyway, with strong slender green arms holding you. “parkourist?” you finished quietly and with wonder, “what? no I’m a ninja!” The stranger corrected. “Oh a green and purple ninja!” You said, trying to understand. “Hah” he shook his head, “I’m a mutant, I’m green because I’m part turtle,” he said setting you down on your feet as he turned to the side to show you his shell, “purples just my favorite color,” he said rubbing the back of his neck.

“A ninja mutant turtle!” You said nodding as if that made any sense in the world. And promptly passed out, the adrenaline that had been pumping in your veins from the fall had faded completely, legs giving out as you slumped to the ground. The last thing you heard was, “oh crap I should’ve known!”

When you regained consciousness you were back on your rooftop. You sat up and someone said, “you might want to lay back, if you sit up too soon-“ you were dizzy! Your hand went to your head as you swayed and slowly went back down, “yeah that’ll happen,” the voice concluded. “Wow, I can’t believe I passed out!” You said trying to find the purple green turtle ninja mutant. “Over here,” the voice said and you tilted your head back. He was sitting cross legged, right behind you. “Oh hi,” you chirped. “Hi,” he said eyeing you like he was ready for you to pass out again.

“I blame that on the almost dying part of our meeting,” you said and he gave you a slight smile. “I would’ve eventually waved..” he said sheepishly. “Surrre,” you chuckled remembering the last six times he hadn’t. “Hey I wasn’t trying to force your hand or anything, that fall was coincidental!” You felt the need to explain and he didn’t say anything. “Oh come on, you’ve gotta believe me!” You said, not knowing how else to persuade him.

“Huh, oh yeah I know, you should be more careful.” He said sternly. You blinked not expecting that, “yeah well, like I said it was an unexpected accident!” and he peered over at the place where you fell. “I don’t know the rusty old railings kind of give off the sign ‘don’t touch we’re about to collapse’”

You narrowed your eyes, tired of looking at him upside down. “Okay wise guy!” You snipped, sitting up and thankfully not feeling so dizzy. “I was just trying to..” he waited, “get a better look…” you sighed, now that you admitted it out loud it sounded kind of embarrassing. “Well here I am,” he said begrudgingly, like he was embarrassed too. “I wanted to tell you, how I thought you were really cool and brave for jumping rooftops at night,” you blushed, crossing your arms.

“Oh-h? That? That’s nothing compared to what else I can do!” He said pulling out a long staff that you hadn’t noticed sticking from his shell. He stood and started twirling it around with ease. Your eyes widened as he performed, he really was a ninja! When he finished, you clapped, “wowwww!” You said in awe of his talent. “And I can also…”

The rest of the night he listed off all of his achievements. How he was an accomplished ninja, fought crime and was really intelligent. How he built this and that. The list was quite impressive and you listened to him ramble on. “So, what’s your name?” You asked once he had finished. He laughed, “right, the name’s Donatello but I go by Donnie” and you smiled, “well Donnie, not to brag but I made a B- on my last math test,” you said smugly. And he quirked up an eyebrow, “oh?” he smiled holding back a laugh. “Yeah, and I’m pretty good at video games too!” You said and his eyes brightened, “what games do you play??”

By the time the two of you had finished talking the sun was coming up and that made him gasp. “Ohhh no I’ve got to go,” he paused looking at you expectantly, and it took you only a second to realize what he was asking for, “Y/n!” you said and he repeated your name, nodding. “See ya next time!” He said as he jumped off your roof, heading off being chased by the rising sun. You smiled sleepily. You couldn’t believe you just stayed up the whole night talking to a purple teenage mutant ninja turtle, but you knew you were gonna do the same thing tomorrow!

#tmnt 2012 #tmnt 2k12 #2k12 donnie #2012 donatello #2012 donnie #donatello x reader #tmnt donnie #donnatello #tmnt #tmnt fandom #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt oneshot #oneshot #tmnt fluff #donnie x y/n

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tteokdoroki · 4 years ago

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🦊mmk so, since you ask for headcanons I shall try to deliver. So ya know how a lot of guys never hold a new born until they have one? So like imagine the BNHA guys.

Bakugou while he loves his kids is nervous but once the baby is in his arms he would never let it go other than to you. I feel like he may actually spoil the baby into only sleeping while being held possibly cause there is just this tiny tiny human. Who has to rely on you and him for everything.

Kiri, while apprehensive just cause of his size is super excited as you help him properly hold the baby. "You sure I won't crush them? You sure it's ok? I love them so much!" He is cut off from his fretting when the tiny child grabs the very top of his pinky (the only finger it could attempt to hold). He too becomes very attached and spoils his babies holding them while they sleep and you have to insist he set then down for the nap so they can sleep without skin to skin contact.

Shouto I think would appear stoic at first. Of course he will hold the baby, it's his child and parents are suppose to do that. But he quickly is having feelings ™️ about if he can be a good father and give his kids a better like than he had (which we all know the man will!). He becomes quite attached particularly one the baby can hold its head up on its own and it's giggly and playful. That would be one of his favorite stages of children I think.

Midoriya is just awestruck. His his beautiful little baby who his beautiful wife brought into the world. After watching you labor all damn day he starts to think you're the real hero. He's seen many bloody scenes and injuries but nothing prepared him to see the after birth. But it was worth it for the cooing bundle in his arms and for once he will take a break from writing in the baby book (he totally spent weeks picking out just the right one) to enjoy his child.

Denki is actually really excited albeit slightly nervous. He's been dying to meet the baby and so he is so fucking eagar to meet the tiny life you two created.

Sero is on of the most low key about it with only Shinsou being similar. Worst case scenario he can tape the baby to his body just in case! Which he totally does. I feel like the tape will be very handy for child rearing.

Shinsou was fucking ready to hold the baby the moment you were ready to let him. And then, when you've nodded off he just sits on the rocker observing every little thing. Even if it's just a small move of the fingers. And when you are a little more awake you look over, careful not to disrupt the moment.

"You're gonna be strong and beautiful just like your momma. She's went through so much to bring you into the world. The best gift she's ever given me. I love you little girl." He has a soft smile the whole time and you hate to interrupt the moment but you can't help but sob at the sweet scene before you.

Just some fluffy domestic bnha guys and their babies!

— BNHA BOYS AS DADS

author’s note(s): this !!! THIS IS WHAT I NEEDED !!! also this won’t be long but in the future i wanna do more of this for each boy 🥺✨

warning(s): none except for fem!reader + bakugou, kirishima, todoroki, deku, kaminari, sero and shinsou bein dads :(

bakugou: i agree and know for a fact that as soon bakugou has his hands on your baby for the first time you’re not getting them back!! he definitely is the one to get up in the middle of the night instead of you to put baby back to bed so he can spend extra time with them. He’s super protective too, watches anyone holding his kid like mfin hawks ( pun intended ) but will show them off in a heartbeat— cos that’s his fucking kid.

kirishima: legit cries when the baby is born, he’s an emotional dude and he’s gonna be super proud of you calling you manly for a safe delivery!!!! but the tears don’t stop there, eiji’ll literally just cry whenever the baby coos at him, holds onto him with their tiny hand and falls asleep on him. he hates being apart from your baby and whines when you put them down for a nap away from him!!! so you always let kiri be the one to wake them up.

todoroki: shoto is definitely scared that he’ll turn out to be his father, so at first he’d be very cautious around your baby and make sure he does everything right. panics when the baby cries and doesn’t know how to handle it until you reassure him that you don’t know what you’re doing either :( if baby falls asleep on shoto, he’s not moving an inch. todoroki will get mad at you if make even the slightest noise while your little one sleeps on his chest. the first time he makes the baby laugh he almost cries :(

midoriya: omg yesss? izu passes out in the delivery room and you can’t tell me otherwise; he’s seen so much in all his time of being a pro hero but nothing would prepare him for childbirth?? i also feel like hed ask for a lot of help from inko— you’re both nervous new parents and having her around helps you guys a lot. deku takes a lot of notes on his kid for weeks, holding baby in one arm while he observes them and takes notes on all the little habits of yours that baby has. you guys spend a decent amount of your late nights with the baby, theorising about the quirks they’d have.

kaminari: yourself and denki get blessed with a happy baby, have you seen that man?? he’s like a walking ball of sunshine and your kid would always be happy around him!! like you said with shoto, kaminari much prefers the phase when baby can sit up on their own and starts to crawl or babble, hed chatter away for hours with the baby and make them giggle so much you would have to remind him to let the baby take a breather :((

sero: sero is probably the most prepared to be a father out of all of them?? hed read up on things, want to bottle feed to he can help you split the load, assembled the nursery and cribs and buggies all by himself :(( i feel like sero is a very hands on dad!! he loves the baby carrier, and will wear it around the house while he’s on paternity leave— carrying the baby around with him while doing chores and finishing paper work!!! hanta also would make his own baby food??? i just feel like that man is so ahead of the game best dad ever !! your baby would be such a daddy’s kid too :(

shinsou: finally!! our boy shinsou!!! you cannot tell me that this man doesn’t take the night shift purely so he can stay up and sing your baby to sleep, hitoshi has lullaby after lullaby prepared for your baby so much so that eventually they sleep through the night. they’re so attached to him :( because he’s also really chill and prepared to be a father— just bouncing them up and down gently while he walks through the house to soothe little babba. after putting the littol one down, shinsou takes care of you and runs you a bath because you’re the best momma in the world <3

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normaltothemax · 1 year ago

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Jason groaned as he was teased again, though he couldn’t seem to stop smiling. “I can literally feel myself losing my street cred, here. Just go ahead and put me out of my misery already,” he laughed. He clearly wasn’t actually upset about the teasing. Sure, his pride might be a bit wounded, but that was all his own doing. It was his complete and total lack of game that stung the most. Honestly, he’d thought he was better at flirting than this.

Apparently not.

Miraculously, it seemed to be working for Dean, if the come on was anything to go by. Jason did his best to fight back a blush, but he couldn’t quite manage to keep his ears from tinging pink. With any luck, Dean wouldn’t notice. (Given the luck he’d had thus far with his flirting skills, he was pretty sure Dean not noticing was a lost cause.) “I’m sure you could,” he managed. “You seem, uh…imaginative.” Seriously, why couldn’t Jason just shut his stupid mouth?

Confirming his head injury wasn’t anything to worry about had the opposite effect of what he’d intended. Seemed like he’d just gone and shot himself in the foot with that one. Damn. He was curious though. “Was that seriously all I needed to do that whole time? Just shoot it in its fucking head?” He’d have to figure out where Bruce stood on killing non-humans. Jason would like to avoid a situation like this from happening again in the future, but he’d also like to not get run out of Gotham for killing something.

“I’d say I can take my own kill shots,” no need to let him know the Red Hood was following Batman’s rules, “but I’m always happy to outsource to a pretty face.” There. That was kind of smooth, right? As close to smooth as he’d gotten all night, at least. He took the number, a small pleased smile on his face as he looked down at it. “I’ll be sure to take you up on that.”

---it was obvious to dean that the vigilante was a little off his game, but dean liked that. it was an honest look at someone who kept themselves behind a mask. he knew that he could come on strong and unnerve people but the red hood seemed to be able to roll with the punches. literally. if dean was being honest, he didn't really expect the teasing and flirting to go over that well so even if it was a little cheesy he couldn't be more pleased. usually he struck out with guys and so this was a little more exciting than he was letting on.

"hm, a poet and you don't know it?" he returned with a little rhyme of his own. how could he possibly resist teasing this guy when he was making it just so easy? usually dean wasn't one to flirt over the corpses of werewolves (not that he hadn't done things like this before) but the job, the hunt, everything seemed to be fading into the background pretty quickly. for once it wasn't the job that was the fun part of all of this.

"well i'm no nurse, but you know what they say about headwounds, right? you shouldn't sleep with one. i bet i could come up with something that would keep you awake for the rest of the night." he knew this was all part of the fun. he very much doubted he was going to get farther than some heavy flirting with a guy who kept a secret identity but dean was not afraid to shoot his shot, that was for damn sure.

his eyes followed gloved hands back to the small wound and he gave a little shrug. "shame, guess you don't need looking after, huh?" he smiled then and shook his head. "nah, it didn't even know i was there. you got to have all the fun," he joked with a little laugh. when he had showed up things were not looking great. he was just glad that thing hadn't gotten its teeth in his guy because otherwise this conversation would have ended up a lot less fun. "but hey i'll be happy to be the kill shot for you anytime. tell ya what," he mused and then dug into the pockets of his dark brown leather jacket. he fished around and managed to find a pen and a gas station receipt to write on. his number was written down and he passed it over between two fingers. "i'll give you my number. you ever need someone to take that kill shot for you -- or someone to play nurse with please feel free to let me know."

#therebetterbepie #✦ ic: jason todd #✦ verse: main (jason todd)#ayyyyy nice!

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spectr3ghast · 2 years ago

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WOAH what if the Kronosphere could do more than reverse time?? What if it could make interactive projections of the past, present, and future? Well that’s what’s happening here. Full disclosure: upsetting themes ahead, such as child abuse and misgendering (not sure how to tag that one, really, so I’m sorry in advance)

Skrael comes into contact with it, and he finds himself in the frozen tundra during a heavy snowfall. Nothing unusual, until he suddenly hears muffled crying. Curious, he follows the sound, and finds a small child all alone, who’s sitting with their knees to their chest facing away from him. He opens his mouth to speak, but stops dead in his tracks when they turn around to face him. Their hair was really long, with strands of it hiding some of their face, but not enough to hide the sad and scared look in their eyes, along with the bruise on their cheek. Neither of them break the lock on each other’s eyes for a while. Something about the child was scarily familiar to Skrael, and it made him uneasy.

“You.. who are-“

“Mom hurt me again.” The child barely speaks above a whisper, then looks down at the ground. “I don’t want to go back home, but I’m hungry and cold. I know she’ll be mad that I ran away.”

“Your mother did that to you?” Skrael gestures at their cheek, and the child nods.

“SGARAELI!” A raspy voice booms from a short distance, the child jumps, and Skrael’s head thrashes in the direction of the voice and approaching footsteps. A woman with similarly long hair that was tied up stormed her way through the snow, a scowl on her face. Suddenly Skrael was stunned, quite literally, as he was forced to witness everything.

“Master, I’m sorry-“ The little child barely gets an opportunity to speak before the woman grabs a fistful of the child’s hair, and they yelp in response. “You insolent girl! How dare you! The absolute gall you have, remember you are loyal only to me, you don’t get to leave! You and I are going home, now!! We have-“ The rest of the angry woman’s words were blurred, and the reality around Skrael started to fall apart. The projection has faded, the Kronosphere’s light no longer pulsing. The ice wizard falls to his knees, having felt like he had been kicked in the stomach. Not knowing whatever torture that was, he was sure he didn’t want to go interact with the Kronosphere’s projections again.

So that’s all I got sorry if it sucked, I’m rusty when it comes to fic writing. For those who are unaware I headcanon Skrael to be ftm, and before he was the North Wind he was a human spellcaster in training with an abusive mother (who will always refer to him as a girl and other feminine pronouns). So here he sees a projection of his past self, and isn’t even aware it’s him cuz he damn near forgot every aspect of his human life, but his trauma makes him remember the emotions behind the abuse he endured. I made more art for it but Tumblr would probably get mad at me cuz it contains nipples.

#skrael #skrael of the north wind #arcane order #the arcane order #tw child abuse #i’m not good at this #sorry #my art #myart

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babyboibucky · 4 years ago

Text

Devil’s Mark: Lead Me Into Temptation

Pairing: CleanRockstar!Bucky x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your chose to give up everything to be with Bucky.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Knife play, carving, marking, blood (not period blood okay), tasting said blood, pain kink, oral sex (M receiving), face fucking, tea-bagging, thigh riding, toxic relationship obviously, bible references as usual

A/N: Like I said, this AU owns me??? Whenever new rockstar pics are released my brain instantly goes into a mayhem and I can’t NOT write shit based on those photos. Anyway, enjoy sinning in this one skskksks

Devil’s Mark Masterlist || MAIN MASTERLIST

You should have been ashamed at how quickly you decided to leave everything behind— your family, your work and your so-called friends, your beliefs and dignity.

All because of Bucky and you were not embarrassed by it. In fact, you were proud of it and you wore it like a badge of honor, quite literally actually. Bucky’s initials that were carved on your left collarbone never failed to remind you who you belong to.

You bled for it and went through the pain when Bucky pressed the tip of his knife onto your skin and used it to permanently mark you with his name. The pain was unlike any other but it was fucking worth it when Bucky rewarded you for being his good, little pet.

“You did so fucking good for me, munchkin.” Bucky cooed, sitting back and admiring his work.

The letters BB looked good on your skin, they were still red but written clearly enough for everyone to see. Tears continued to streak on your cheeks as you caught your breath, having to hold it in as you endured through the process of being marked.

“Aww, is my munchkin in pain?” he teased, wiping away your tears.

You shook your head, “I can take it.” you rasped out, sniffing and ignoring the burning sensation of the lacerations on your décolletage.

Bucky chuckled darkly and pressed a kiss on your neck, sucking your skin as his hand worked its way inside your skirt. His fingers tapped against the first mark he had given you while his mouth slid down to your throat.

“Such a good, little pet you are.” he hummed against your skin.

A combination of a gasp and a moan slipped past your lips when Bucky cupped your clothed cunt, pressing the pad of his palm against your already throbbing clit. He grunted in satisfaction when he felt how moist you had gotten.

Pulling back, Bucky looked at you with amusement. “Did the pain turn you on?” he asked.

You didn’t even know it was possible, you didn’t notice how damp it was between your legs until Bucky asked you about it. Not knowing what to say, you merely shrugged and bit your lip from embarrassment.

“Leave it to me to figure it out, munchkin.” Bucky said before bending down to lick at your fresh wound, humming at the tangy taste of your blood on his tongue.

The sting that you felt went straight to your core and left goosebumps all over your body. Hissing from both pain and pleasure, you threw your head back and found purchase on Bucky’s shoulders. It confused you at first, why the pain aroused you to the point of completely soaking your panties.

But when Bucky’s fingers began to rub your folds, you didn’t bother understanding your arousal anymore.

“Damn, didn’t expect for my munchkin to be a fuckin’ freak. You like it when it hurts, don’t you?” Bucky asked as he sat up straight.

His tongue and lips still had some of your blood, and the sight of Bucky wiping it with his thumb and sucking on it had you whimpering.

“I’m gonna have so much fun with you, munchkin.”

The day that Bucky marked you like that was the same day you had surrendered everything to him like he was a god. You never looked back since then, didn’t have an ounce of regret nor fear at what the future holds for you now that you were reeled into his world.

Everything about you changed— the way you dressed and presented yourself, your likes and dislikes. Bucky gloated at how much you willingly let him take control of you and your decisions.

You’d spent your entire life being constricted by so many rules that turned you into a person you never wanted to be in the first place. Don’t wear that, you look like a whore. Pray and repent for your sins every night, we don’t want a sinner in this family. Stay away from temptation, you don’t want to burn in hell.

It was ironic how you let the devil into your life but still got a glimpse of heaven.

A smirk tugged at your rouge-painted lips as you stared at your reflection in the mirror. You had never looked like yourself until now and you had Bucky to thank. He unraveled the truest version of you, helped you discover things you never knew you enjoyed, made you feel and bask in emotions you had suppressed for years.

Your finger traced the leather collar around your neck, something you considered a symbol of freedom rather than a restraint.

Bucky’s voice calling for you put an end to your pondering. Giving yourself one last look, you made sure to look your best before stepping out of the bathroom.

Your heels clacked as you walked into the bedroom of Bucky’s trailer, quickly catching his attention as he lounged on his bed in nothing but a pair of tight and stringed, leather shorts. His eyes darkened when he saw you, trapping his bottom lip in between his teeth as he got up to approach you.

A breath got caught in your throat when Bucky towered over you, his eyes scanning you from head to toe. You faltered under his predatory gaze and looked away, feeling bare and exposed because of the outfit he had asked you to wear: a black see through bralette, a matching thong and a pair of black stilettos. The collar he had given you was also attached to a belted chest harness that you had adjusted to accentuate your breasts.

“Fuck, knew my pet would look so damn good in that.” Bucky complimented, rubbing his stubbled chin as he took in your appearance.

He grabbed his silver chain from the bed and grunted when he heard your tiny gasp, loving how you got so fucking excited whenever he brought it out. Bucky smirked as he tipped your chin, thumbing your bottom lip and smearing your lipstick around.

“You wanna play, huh?” he asked before gently slapping the side of your breast.

You nodded enthusiastically, humming in excitement as Bucky continued to tease you. He clicked his tongue and took a step back, “Wanna hear my pet speak up.” he said.

“I wanna play, Bucky.” you immediately responded, looking at him with doe eyes and practically begging for him to leash you.

“That’s my pretty, lil’ munchkin.” Bucky praised, lifting your chin up so he could attach the chain onto the ring hanging at the middle of your collar.

Bucky caught you off guard when he harshly tagged on the chain, bringing you down onto your knees with a loud thud. His leather shorts already had a tent and the sight of Bucky’s thick, tattooed thighs instantly made you wet.

“Untie the strings, munchkin.” Bucky said, his hand still holding the chain while his other caressed your hair.

You lifted your hands up but they were quickly swatted away. When you looked at Bucky, he was grinning at you mischievously, “Use your mouth.” he said.

Gripping his thighs for leverage, you leaned forward and bit the edge of the string and pulled at it. You used your tongue and hooked it under the strings, lifting it up until it was loose. Bucky groaned at the sight of you on your knees, obeying his every command.

“You can use your hands now, munchkin. You’ve been such a good girl, go ahead and suck my cock. It’s all yours.” Bucky urged, exhaling through his nose when you didn’t waste any time and pulled his shorts down.

Spitting on the tip of his cock, you watched your saliva drip down to the shaft before licking the underside. You traced the prominent vein with your tongue, batting your eyelashes at Bucky whose mouth dropped open when you took his head into your mouth.

“Oh fuck, shit.” he hissed, scrunching his face in pleasure when you added your hand into the mix to fondle his balls.

“God, munchkin. You’re a fuckin’ sinner.” he breathily chuckled, gathering your hair behind your head into a ponytail.

“You gonna let me fuck your mouth?” he asked, moving his hips away from your lips.

Bucky snickered when your head followed his hips, not wanting to let go of his cock that was throbbing inside your mouth. He gripped your hair tight and yanked your head back until his cock slipped out and slapped against his abdomen. Your spit mixed with his pre-cum forming a string that connected the tip of his dick to your lips. Bucky tugged your head further away until your spit landed onto your chin and neck, dribbling down to coat his now fully-healed initials on your collarbone.

“How d’you want me to fuck your mouth, munchkin?” he asked, keeping his grip on your hair tight and painful.

“Fast, please.” you breathed out, licking your lips as you stared at his weeping, hard cock.

“Yeah, you want me to use your mouth and make myself cum?” he asked again.

You weren’t even finished nodding your head when Bucky pulled your face back down to his crotch. Your jaw ached when you opened your mouth wide, welcoming his cock back into your mouth until the tip hit the back of your throat.

Choking on his dick, your fingernails dug into Bucky’s thighs, creating dents that were easily hidden beneath his tattoos. Your eyes watered when Bucky held you in place for a few seconds before finally beginning to thrust his hips.

Wet, gaging sounds and Bucky’s moans filled the air as he fucked your mouth roughly. Saliva began to spill out from the corners of your mouth, dripping down to your chin and then the floor beneath you. Your tears escaped from your eyes and messed up your make-up, your mascara running down your cheeks, painting it a dark grey and mixing together with the smeared lipstick around your mouth.

“So fucking greedy for my cock, you’re such a slut.” Bucky grunted as he continued to fuck your face, ignoring the way your nostrils flared whenever you attempted to breathe through your nose. You blinked the tears away when you felt Bucky’s cock pulsate inside your mouth. The way his hips stuttered was a sign that he was close, and knowing how Bucky wanted to finish, you tugged his wrists away from your hair and started bobbing your head as you sucked him harder.

“Get under, I want to see my cum all over your innocent face.” Bucky demanded and began fisting his cock as you licked and sucked his balls.

You kept your eyes on Bucky the entire time, just waiting for him to make a mess on your face. The look of pleasure on his face always did it for you, always made you soak and drip for him. The fact that it was you making him feel this way, it gave you a sense of fulfillment. His brows would furrow, his nose would scrunch up and he would snarl and growl at you whenever he was close to his climax.

You loved it, loved seeing a man like him lose himself in you and on you.

“Yes, fuck!” Bucky groaned, taking a step back before aiming his cock onto your face, spurting his release all over you.

“Stick your tongue out, munchkin...yeah, fuck. Just like that, good girl.” he whispered, jerking his cock and letting more of his cum land on your tongue.

Bucky pulled his shorts back up and sat down on the foot of the bed, grabbing his phone and then opening the camera app. Like his good pet, you remained on your knees and didn’t bother cleaning up your face.

“C’mere, munchkin.” Bucky softly said, taking the chain in his hand as he watched you crawl towards here.

“Let me take a photo of you, fuck. You look so damn pretty like that, all fucked up and dirty. What a whore.” he chuckled and gripped your face in one hand, angling your face before snapping a couple of photos.

He threw his phone aside and leaned back, gazing at you with a satisfied smile. You returned the smile and started wiping your face with both your hands, gathering all his cum before bringing it into your mouth without breaking your eye contact with Bucky.

You sucked your fingers clean before proceeding to lick your palms, humming at the taste of Bucky.

You used to be an angel, such a pure soul but all that purity flew right out of the window when you met him. Now, your wings have been cut off and that landed you straight onto the devil’s lap.

“You really know how to make me happy, munchkin.” Bucky praised. “I knew it was right to keep you.” he added, tipping his head at you.

“Come, munchkin. Gotta reward you for being an obedient pet, of course. Why don’t you sit that pretty pussy on my thigh, rub yourself on me. Make that pussy purr.” he said, patting his thigh.

You crawled closer to him and held onto his knees as you stood up. You slightly winced in pain, your knees were red and bruised from being on the ground. Bucky gripped your leash and tugged on it, pulling you down until his thigh was slotted in between your legs.

A moan slipped past your swollen lips when your clothed cunt pressed against Bucky’s thigh. He laughed when he felt how fucking wet you were, your juices immediately soaking his skin, making his tattoo glisten with it.

“Ride my thigh, go ahead. Cum whenever you want.” he said.

You did as you were told and started moving your hips back and forth, moaning wantonly at the friction. You didn’t bother removing your thong, you were too aroused to do that. The throbbing in your pussy only grew with every movement, creating a delicious coil in your abdomen.

Bucky’s eyes kept on moving from your face to your pussy, watching you proudly as you tried to get yourself off. Your breasts bounced with emphasis thanks to the harness and your nipples were pebbled against the sheer fabric of your bralette.

“Bucky…” you whimpered, holding onto his shoulders as you quickened your pace— back and forth, back and forth, side to side.

Your juices were dripping down already, creating a vulgar, squelching sound whenever you moved. The hairs on Bucky’s thigh were also adding to your pleasure, allowing you to come closer and closer to your end.

“Yeah, you gonna cum? Cumming already, munchkin?” Bucky teased, yanking your leash to bring your lips down to his.

He licked your parted mouth before biting your lower lip, tugging at it until it bled. Bucky sucked on your lip before kissing you messily. You moaned into his mouth when you tasted your blood; it quickly mixed with Bucky’s release, creating a unique flavor that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Gonna cum, Bucky.” you whined, moving your hips faster and rougher against his thigh.

“Go on, munchkin. Give it to me, soak my fuckin’ thigh with your cream. C’mon.” he growled as he pinched your nipple.

The pressure in your abdomen exploded and made your entire body buzz from immense pleasure as you came. Electricity ran through your veins, starting from your fingertips down to your toes as they curled. Wetness gushed out of your sopping cunt, completely soaking Bucky’s thighs and the bedsheets beneath.

Your high-pitched moan was like music to Bucky’s ears; his smile was from ear to ear as he watched you get lost in your pleasure, your head tilted back as your nails left scratches on his shoulders down to his chest.

“That’s it, munchkin. Look at this mess…” Bucky pointed out, looking at his drenched thigh and your ruined thong.

Your chest continued to heave as you caught your breath, your eyelids fluttering from mere exhaustion. Bucky started pressing light kisses on your chest, throat and jaw while his hands began to caress the sides of your thighs.

Bucky’s praises and sweet words were your gospel, his grunts were your choir.

And you? Your body was his temple.

“You know I’d fuck you until you were dumb, but I got a concert.” Bucky sighed, helping you get off from his thigh.

“You wanna come and watch?” he asked.

The way his eyes narrowed at you was meaningful, you knew that Bucky was up to something. Whatever it was that he had in mind, you always looked forward to it.

You nodded in response, “I’ll go get changed.” you said and was about to walk away until Bucky grabbed your leash again, stopping you from doing so.

He tutted as he pulled you close, not caring whether you stumbled on your feet. Bucky caressed your face and fixed your hair, tucking a strand behind your ear before winking at you.

“I didn’t tell you to get changed, munchkin.” he said, lifting a brow at you.

“How ‘bout I take you out on a walk?”

Bucky could take you anywhere and you’d let him. Hell, he could keep you leashed and you wouldn’t even bat an eye. Truth was, Bucky could lead you anywhere he wants and you would follow him like a loyal disciple.

He had already led you into temptation, you might as well follow him to the pits of hell.

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