#hook spider shot

[ciaossu-imagines]

For day 17 of the event, I used the phrase ‘digging deeper’ for some of the Hunters from the Hunters Guild of The Vampire Dies in No Time! This is such a fun media to write for and I hope any fans of the series enjoy these random headcanons for the characters 😊

What do they have in their wallet?

Ronaldo’s wallet has money (not as much as he’d like), both notes and coins, a picture of his family, a picture of John, his first fan letter all folded up and well-worn from being read so much, and that’s about it.

What’s usually in their trouser/jacket pockets or purse?

Maria doesn’t usually have pockets, especially in her Hunter costume. Because of this, she normally carries a purse or some sort of bag with her. It goes behind the bar before she heads off to work as a Hunter and she picks it up before she heads home. Her purse has her phone, her wallet, pepper spray, extra earring backs because she tends to lose hers, some sort of purse-safe snack because she tends to be starving after work, mints, and a hair elastic or two. She also has a silver cross keychain that is attached to the purse.

How many keys do they have? For what? Do they have any key pendants?

Shot has a key to his apartment, one for his parent’s house, and one for a safe that is located within his apartment. All three keys are on a basic keyring that he keeps in his pocket, both in his civilian clothes and his Hunter costume. He’s terrified of losing the keys, so not only does it have a dorky little fandom keychain attached to the ring, but also one of those Bluetooth tags so that he can always find his keys if he does misplace them.

What kind of jewelry are they wearing? What’s their favourite piece?

Ta Chan doesn’t wear a lot of jewelry whilst in her Hunter costume, for obvious reasons. Most jewelry can be used against you in a fight, especially things like necklaces or dangling earrings. However, when she’s not in her Hunter costume, Ta Chan really is an accessories kind of girl. She prefers choker necklaces or, at the most, short necklaces. Long necklaces that hang low get in her way and with her temper, it just frustrates her to no end. She also likes cute stud earrings when in her civilian clothes, with them often having fun shapes. She has a really cute pair of almost pop art looking pink and purple flower studs that make her really happy.

What do their bed sheets look like? Colour? Patterns?

Satetsu’s sheets are really plain looking, much like the man himself. He prefers very basic-coloured sheets. They have to be solid colours and nothing too bright. He figures you can’t go wrong with white, eggshell, or cream-coloured sheets. However, despite how plain they look, his sheets are actually of really good quality and with a high thread count, so they’re really soft to the skin.

What’s the colour of your muse’s underwear right now?

Senya often goes commando if I’m going to be completely honest. When he doesn’t, it’s only tight-fitting briefs or male thongs that he wears, normally either black, red, or purple in colour.

[wonderjanga]

The Voices

When Billy first started out as a hero, he didn’t really know he was doing. So when a bunch of voices in his head started telling him what to do he just followed their instructions.

Hercules: “Right hook.”

Marvel: *throws a right hook at the villain*

Hercules: “Left hook.”

Marvel: *does that*

Hercules: “Throw a nasty ass haymaker.”

Marvel: “What’s a haymaker?”

Hercules: “Just throw really hard punch.”

Marvel: *punches the monster through two buildings*

Hercules: “Okay… not that hard, but I do love the effort!”

or

Zeus: “Call his mother a not nice word.”

Marvel: “Your mother is a not nice word.”

Villain: *confusion*

Zeus: “Billy, you were supposed to say a not nice word, not the actual words not nice word.”

Marvel: “Huh…?”

Zeus: *shaking his head in disappointment* “Never mind.”

or

Marvel: *knocked out a villain and is waiting for the cops to arrive*

Mercury: “Billy, you know what’d be really funny?” *pauses for dramatic effect* “Step on him.”

Atlas: “Mercury, he’s not actually going to do that-”

Marvel: *slowly raises foot*

Atlas: “HEY- HEY! BILLY STOP-”

Mercury: “DO IT!”

In case you couldn’t tell by that last one, the gods started taking advantage of Billy’s ���sure why not” attitude towards anything they tell him. This caused them to be divided or this at least caused a portion of them to want to reign the others in so Billy will either make his own choices or at least not make the bad choices some Gods suggest.

Achilles: “Billy, kill it.”

Solomon: “No, Billy, it’s just a spider. Just scoop it up and put it far away.”

Achilles: “Solomon, the spider is 30 FEET BIG.”

Solomon: “It’s still a spider and all life is sacred.”

Achilles: “It’s poisonous, Solomon.”

Solomon: *definitely rolled his eyes* “Yes, and we know of your aversion to poisons-”

Achilles: “I have a good reason for it!”

Solomon: “-but in the end it’s still a spider. A living thing-”

Billy saw the spiders eyes look at him, and he didn’t even hear the rest of the argument before he screamed and shot lightning at it till the point of it exploding. He was then made to stand in total silence, covered in spider innards while listening to a baby cry in the distance.

It was after that he remembered he had free will and I was like “oh, wait, why am I listening to these guys again?” And just started doing his own thing.

And yes, the heroes that met Billy when he was first starting out all thought he was both bipolar and extremely unstable.

[astaroth1357]

I have long wanted to write a headcanon where high demons have lesser forms, so take a walk with me on this:

Imagine that the brothers are fighting with each other and one of them takes a serious hit, like, somebody's left hook got them right in the jaw and it was brutal. They fall to the ground, stone cold, and... just. Poof into a tiny little critter. Like a verison of their familiar. And they can't retake human form until they've rested and healed their wounds.

I'm doing that.

Lucifer becomes this fat-ass, little peacock. He's like one of those rotund Chocobo from the Final Fantasy universe, you just want to pick him up and squeeze him but he's slightly too heavy for that. His feathers are black, save for the tail which have black, red, blue, and green markings. If something makes him "Poof!" then he'll hide away in the Castle because he refuses to let his brothers ever see him in that state. MC can visit him, though, and he'll coo and get all fluffy whenever they pet his tummy.

Mammon turns into a three-eyed raven, but not fat like Luci. He basically becomes a bigger verison of one of his familiars, he's about the size of an eagle. For being the second strongest he gets "Poof!-ed" rather often because he gets caught up in so many fights. Most of the time, he's just a bystander then some stray shot hits him and suddenly he's squawking everybody's ear off! Hilariously, he's arguably smarter in this form so when he's stuck as a bird, his grades actually improve (if anyone can read his actual chicken scratch penmanship).

Levi becomes a snake. Duh. He has similar markings along his back to the colorful scales on his neck in his demon form. He isn't even the length of your average scarf, so MC can drape him behind their neck easily and he doesn't get in the way. He's absolutely MISERABLE like this, though, because he has no hands to play games with. He can get extra clingy to people if he's feeling cold, but MC has to invite him to share their body heat because he's too shy to signal what he wants.

As much as Satan would love to be a cat, he becomes a little unicorn (Sorry, I didn't make the lore). He's about the size of one of those miniature horses, but don't be fooled. He will snap your kneecaps and he's at perfect height to rear-kick his brothers right in the crotch. His coat is black but his tail, mane, and the underside of his horn are all his signature green. If he every gets "Poof!-ed!" he's big mad, so he'll spend the entire time trying to kick and spear his brothers so they have to suffer along with him. He's the cause of a lot of chain "Poof!-ings."

Asmo becomes the smallest, cutest scorpion you ever did see. Well, as cute as scorpions can be. His whole body becomes hot pink and he has the biggest widdle eyes (think those jumping spiders who wear raindrops on their heads type energy). He's also venomous as all hell, so his brothers HAVE to make sure that they continously call him "small, cute, and adorable" lest they suffer a week's worth of paralytic toxin. He can fit the palm of a hand and makes MC tie a little bow around his tail so he doesn't feel too bad about being under-dressed.

Beel, unfortunately, becomes a fly. A big fly (by fly standards), but a fly nonetheless. You wouldn't even know that it's him if he weren't traffic cone orange. Literally everyone panics when he gets "Poof!-ed" because it would only take some bozo with a swatter to put an end to the sweetest brother... Belphie never lets Beel out of his sight and even has a tiny leash so he can keep track of him if they have to go out. He's a lot easier to feed like this, but everyone has to resist that automatic urge to smack him away from their dinner plates.

Belphie ironically has the largest lesser form out of his brothers. He's a cow, more specifically a bull, but there's nothing special about him aside from the navy fur. He is a full grown bull and he loves to lord it over the others if they all get "Poof-ed!" at once. Also, good luck getting him to do ANYTHING in this form. He is a bull. If he does not want to move, he will not be moving. Not even Beel can carry him like this. He's the only brother who doesn't mind getting "Poof-ed!" all that much because of it.

[tinydefector]

Who's portal is that.

DC X DP X Spider-Man

Just a silly little thought I thought of becuase I thought it be fun putting these two together in having to deal with being in gotham city.

Word count: 4.4k

Warnings: swearing, hints to Constantine being a slut

NEXT

________________

The night sky over Gotham City was shrouded in heavy clouds, casting the city in an eerie glow. A faint green shimmer flickered in the distance as a figure swung gracefully from rooftop to rooftop, keeping pace with a glowing flying one beside him. Behind them, a dark shadow leapt from gargoyle to gargoyle. The faint whoosh of a grappling hook shot past them.  

"Do you mind! not glowing like a freaking neon sign?" Spider-Man hissed, flipping mid-air to avoid a batarang that whizzed past his head.  "Excuse me," Danny shot back, his voice dripping with sarcasm, " you're swing around in a bright red-and-blue costume like a walking target!"  

“First off,” Peter replied, landing on a rooftop and immediately launching himself back into the air, “it’s called branding. Second, this is your fault!” Danny stopped mid-flight to glare at him, hands glowing with ectoplasmic energy. "Oh, sure, because I totally wanted to get sucked into a random vortex that dumped me into this hellscape, of all places! This city's like a goth kid's fever dream!"  

"Hey, I’m not judging your aesthetic preferences,” Peter quipped, swinging from building to building, his webbing snapping taut as he narrowly avoided a batarang that embedded itself in the brick beside him. "You know," he called out to the white-haired kid flying beside him, "I feel like you're not appreciating my quick thinking here!"

Danny, glowing faintly with ectoplasmic energy, shot him a glare as he zipped past Spider-Man. "Quick thinking? Are you a complete moron? Who the hell sees a swirling green portal and thinks, ‘Hey, this looks fun! Let’s dive right in!’?" Peter shot a web at a nearby gargoyle and gracefully vaulted over a rooftop. "Okay, in my defense, I thought it was one of Doctor Strange’s portals! You know, the guy with the magic hands? They’re usually pretty safe! Emphasis on usually."

Danny groaned in frustration, narrowly phasing through a fire escape ladder before materializing again. "Well, congratulations, genius. You didn’t just jump into some magic hula hoop!"

“Yeah, because this is so much calmer than my usual Thursdays,” Peter quipped, twisting mid-air. "Besides, if the portals are so dangerous, maybe slap a warning label on them next time, huh? Something like, ‘Danger: Do Not Touch, May Cause Interdimensional Headaches.’ ”

Danny rolled eyes, his frustration mounting as he glanced over his shoulder. “Oh, sure, like I planned for some random spider-themed idiot to get sucked into the summoning mess I got dragged into!. This is totally what I wanted today.”

“Hey, watch it, Casper,” Peter shot back, landing on a rooftop before somersaulting off the edge. "I didn’t exactly ask for this either. One second, I’m swinging through Queens, and the next, I’m in Emo New York’s. Seriously, does no one here believe in streetlights?"

“Don’t call me Casper!” Danny snapped, his glow intensifying as he blasted through an old billboard. “Neither of us want to be in a Tim Burton fever dream!” Peter flipped onto a water tower, perching casually for a moment as he fired a web at a pursuing caped hero, snagging his grappling hook mid-swing. “Hey, I don’t know who Tim Burton is, but I’m gonna assume that was an insult.” He glanced at Danny. “Also, can we talk about your powers? Because I’m ninety-nine percent sure you’re breaking every law of physics I know.”

“Yeah, well, so are your webs!” Danny shot back, “How do they even work? What’s the tensile strength? Are they organic or synthetic? Because if they’re organic, that’s really nasty.” Peter gasped in mock offense. “I’ll have you know my webbing is a marvel of scientific engineering! I made it myself, thank you very much. And it’s not gross—unlike your weird glowing hands. What even is that, radioactive ghost goo?”

______________

 

Elsewhere…

John Constantine paced rapidly across the creaky wooden floor of a dimly lit room, the flickering glow of candles casting jagged shadows on the walls. His trench coat swayed as he moved, his muttered curses barely audible over the sound of heavy rain pelting the windows. The smell of burnt herbs and incense filled the air, but none of it calmed the rising panic twisting in his gut.

"This is bad. This is really bad," Constantine muttered, running a hand through his disheveled blond hair. His other hand clutched a half-empty flask of whiskey, which he occasionally sipped from between frantic incantations and muttered expletives. "Bloody cultists. Fuckinn idgits. Why can’t anyone leave well enough alone?!"

The summoning circle etched into the floor before him still glowed faintly with green energy, the remnants of whatever dark ritual had taken place before he had managed to intercept it. but he could feel the unmistakable, oppressive energy lingering in the room. It was heavy, suffocating, and distinctly ectoplasmic. 

The cult in question had been small, disorganized, and apparently suicidal. They’d tried to summon Pariah Dark, the ruler of the Infinite Realms, a being of unfathomable power and danger. Constantine had assumed they’d fail, as most cults do. But no. Somehow, the idiots had pulled it off. Or at least, partially. The problem was, Constantine had no idea if the ritual had worked as intended. He doubted it. If Pariah had been fully unleashed, Gotham would already be a smoking crater, and Constantine would probably be dead, considering the Ghost King owned a significant chunk of his soul. Still, the energy of the summoning lingered, and Constantine could feel it spreading across Gotham like a thick fog. Something had gone wrong, and that was almost worse than it going right.

"You bloody morons," Constantine hissed, kicking over an empty chair. "Do you have any idea what you've done? Summoning the Ghost King? The fuckin Ghost King?" He paused, taking another swig from his flask as he leaned against the table cluttered with occult books and ritual tools. His fingers drummed against the wood as he thought.

Constantine had dealt with many terrifying beings in his time, but Pariah Dark was one He wished to put behind him and never talk about again. It had taken the combined might of the Realms to imprison him along with Constantine having a small part in distracting the ghost in the first place, and there was no way Constantine or anyone else wanted him walking free.

"Right," Constantine muttered, "Time to call in the cavalry."

---

Wayne Manor - The Batcave

Bruce Wayne was at the Batcomputer, sifting through a series of reports about strange energy spikes across Gotham. The spikes had started a few hours ago, coinciding with sightings of two unusual figures who were dodging his team with surprising skill. One seemed to fly—glow, the other swung through the city with an agility that rivaled even Nightwing’s. Whoever they were, they didn’t belong in Gotham. And Bruce wanted answers.

The comm in his cowl buzzed. Before Alfred’s voice came through. “Master Wayne, you have a rather… agitated call coming through. It’s Constantine.”

Bruce’s fingers paused over the keyboard. “Constantine?”

“Yes, sir,” Alfred replied dryly. “He sounds, as usual, like he’s moments from catastrophe.”

Bruce frowned. Constantine rarely called unless things were dire. “I'll handle it Alfred” He tapped a button on the console, patching the call through. “Constantine,” Batman grunted. “What is it?”

“Bats! About bloody time” Constantine’s voice came through, frantic and hurried. “ Alright, listen to me very carefully, mate, because we’ve got a massive problem on our hands. And by ‘our hands,’ I mean your city.”

Bruce’s brow furrowed. His voice dropping lower “What did you do?.”

Constantine “ i aint done shit!. There was a cult, don’t ask me why, cultists are always bloody morons and they decided to summon the Ghost King.”

“The Ghost King?” Bruce repeated, his voice calm but edged with suspicion. “What is that? Some kind of demon?”

“Worse,” Constantine said. “The Ghost King is the ruler of the Infinite Realms. A proper deity. The kind of being that makes demons piss themselves. His name’s Pariah Dark, and he’s the nastiest ghost you’ll ever meet. World-ending levels of bad. And here’s the kicker: I think the sod’s been unleashed on Gotham.”

Bruce’s eyes narrowed. “If that’s true, why isn’t the city in ruins?”

“I said I think,” Constantine snapped. “Something’s wrong. The energy’s all… off. It’s definitely the Ghost King’s signature, but it’s not as destructive as it should be. That’s the only reason we’re still breathing. But trust me, mate: if he’s here, it’s only a matter of time before things go sideways. Its either His powers have been drained which if that's the case we are on limited time”

Bruce leaned back slightly, his mind racing. “What do you need from me?”

Constantine sighed. “First, I need you to avoid pissing him off. If Pariah Dark’s awake, the last thing you want to do is fight him. Second, I need access to every bit of information you’ve got on what’s been happening in Gotham tonight. Weird sightings, strange energy spikes, anything that looks remotely supernatural.” Bruce’s fingers moved swiftly across the keyboard, pulling up data. “There have been reports of two unidentified individuals moving through Gotham. One appears to be glowing. The other swings on some kind of webbing. My team’s been tracking them.”

Constantine groaned. “Bloody brilliant. Bats i could kiss you for being the Paranoid fuck you are, The glowing one. That’s the Ghost King. And if someone’s with him, well, they’re probably just as much of a problem.” Bruce’s voice remained steady. “You’re certain?”

“Of course I’m bloody certain!” Constantine snapped. “I can feel it. The energy’s radiating off him like a bloody beacon. I’d bet my soul on it.” There was a beat of silence. “Oh, wait,” Constantine muttered bitterly. “He already owns part of that.”

Bruce’s hands paused, brows pressing together before he spoke again. “Explain.”

Constantine sighed heavily. “Long story short? I owe the Ghost King a bit of my soul. It’s… complicated. But if he’s here, he might decide to call in that debt. And if he does, I’m royally fucked. That’s why I need to trap him.”

Bruce sits back in his chair with a sigh and he tries to relax into his seat. “And how do you plan to trap him?”

“That’s the tricky bit,” Constantine admitted. “It’s not like trapping a regular ghost or demon. Pariah Dark’s power is off the charts. I’ll need a bloody arsenal of spells, relics, a fuck tone of salt, rosemary, dragons blood, blood blossoms and aloe vera and if you’ve got one lying around a miracle.”

“I don’t deal in miracles,” Bruce said flatly. “But I can help.”

“Well, that’s better than nothing,” Constantine muttered. “Just don’t let your bloody sidekicks get too close to him. If they piss him off, we’re all dead.”

Bruce’s jaw tightened. “Understood.”

__________

Peter stopped pacing and crossed his arms, giving Danny a look. "You know, you’ve been pretty chill about the whole ‘I’m the king of ghosts, and I got summoned by some random cult’ thing. Is this, like, a normal Tuesday for you?"

Danny snorted. "Look, when you’ve spent the past two years fighting evil ghosts, rogue hunters, and the occasional interdimensional tyrant, this kind of thing doesn’t even crack the top ten weirdest days I’ve had." Peter raised an eyebrow. "Top ten weirdest, huh? That’s impressive. I’m not sure if I should be impressed or concerned."

"Little bit of both," Danny muttered. Peter leaned against a metal pole, watching as Danny’s glow flickered for a moment before dimming again. Peter rubbed the back of his neck. "Okay, so, if we’re gonna figure this out, we probably shouldn’t be walking around looking like, well…" He gestured to their costumes. "This."

Danny glanced down at himself, still in his black-and-white ghost suit. "Yeah, you’ve got a point. As much as I hate to admit it, looking like a glow stick might attract the wrong kind of attention." Peter smirked. "Yeah, you’re a little conspicuous. And I’m not exactly subtle in red and blue spandex. But i can get away with saying its a cosplay"

Danny rolled his eyes and stood up, brushing himself off. "Fine. Hang on." He took a deep breath, and in a flash of light, his ghostly suit disappeared, replaced by a simple black T-shirt, jeans, and sneakers. His white hair and glowing green eyes shifted back to his human appearance black hair and bright blue eyes. He looked younger, smaller, and far less intimidating.

Peter froze, staring at him. "Wait. WHAT?" Danny blinked at him, confused. "What? What’s the big deal?" Peter gestures wildly. "You—you just changed! Like, full-on transformation! You looked older, taller, and now—" He pointed at Danny, his voice higher in disbelief. "Now you look like a teenager."

Danny crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. "I am a teenager. I’m sixteen."

Peter’s jaw dropped. "Sixteen?! You’re SIXTEEN?"

"Yeah, what about it?" Danny asked, clearly unimpressed with Peter’s reaction.

Peter ran a hand through his hair. "You’re telling me you’re sixteen, and you’re the king of ghosts. At sixteen, I was just trying to survive high school, and here you are ruling entire dimensions?"

Danny smirked, rather amused at Peter's panic over the situation. "Life comes at you fast, huh?"

Peter groaned, shaking his head and leaning back as he remembered what he had recently been through. "Man, I thought I was stressed out at your age."

Danny shrugged. “You’re not that much older than me"

Peter hesitated, scratching the back of his head. "Well, technically, I’m twenty-two. But thanks to a little thing called the Blip, I kind of skipped five years of my life. So I guess I’m still seventeen in a way? It’s… complicated."

Danny stared at him for a moment, then shook his head. "Wow. Okay. So we’re both freaks of time. Good to know." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled $50 bill. "Anyway, I’ve got about fifty bucks on me. Not exactly enough to solve this mess, but it’s something. Wanna get burgers?"

---

Constantine was cursing his luck as he stepped out of a cab in Gotham's East End, his trench coat already soaked from the rain. He could feel the Ghost King’s energy growing fainter, which meant either the being was hiding or his powers were finally stabilizing. Either way, Constantine knew he didn’t have much time. He lit a cigarette and pulled out his phone, dialing Batman again.

"Any updates, Bats?" Constantine asked, taking a long drag. "Because if the Ghost King’s energy gets any more stable, it’ll be nearly impossible to trap him."

Batman’s voice came through, calm and level. "We’ve located an individual matching the energy signals." Constantine let out a sigh of relief. "Good. don’t engage. If you make the wrong move, you could end up pissing him off. And trust me, you don’t want to see this guy pissed."

"I don’t plan on engaging unless it’s necessary," Batman replied. "But if this Ghost King is as dangerous as you say, we need to act quickly." Constantine exhaled a plume of smoke. "Right. Just keep your distance, and I’ll be there soon. We’re gonna need a bloody miracle to pull this off."

When Constantine had finally found Batman they stepped into the abandoned warehouse, the bats cape billowing slightly as he moved through the shadows. Behind him, Constantine followed, cigarette in hand and a look of barely concealed panic on his face. The remnants of ectoplasmic energy still lingered in the air, faint but unmistakable.

“This is it,” Constantine muttered, glancing around the room. “He was here. I can feel it.”

Batman’s sharp eyes swept the area, noting the disturbed dust on the floor and the faint. “They’ve moved on.” Constantine cursed under his breath, flicking ash onto the floor. “Bloody hell. I was hoping we’d catch them before they bolted.”

“They’ll be back,” Batman said, his voice calm and measured as he moves around looking at the slight setup in the corner. “This isn’t a random hideout. They’ll return.”

Constantine raised an eyebrow. “And what makes you so sure, mate?”

Batman glanced at him, his expression unreadable under the cowl. “The boy He’ll need to rest soon, and this place is familiar, they have already scooped it out. They’ll come back.” Constantine sighed. “Alright, fine. But we can’t just sit around twiddling our thumbs. If the Ghost King realizes I’m here, he’s going to come after me. And I don’t fancy another round with him.”

Batman ignored the comment, his mind already working. “We’ll set the trap,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. Constantine gave him a skeptical look. “You’re planning on trapping the bloody Ghost King with what, a net? This isn’t some garden-variety ghost, mate. He’s a deity. You’re gonna need more than a fancy grappling hook to take him down. Like i said a fuck tone of Salt” Constantine said grabbing the bag of it he had brought. 

“I’m aware,” Batman replied, moving to examine the scorch marks on the floor. “That’s why you’re here. You said you had a plan.” Constantine muttered something under his breath, then reluctantly pulled a small, ornate box from his coat pocket. It was covered in intricate runes, glowing faintly in the dim light. “This,” he said, holding it up, “is a containment box designed to trap spiritual entities. It won’t hold him forever, but it’ll buy us time. If we can get him near it, plus the other stuff I've bought too. It might, just might be enough to contain him long enough so i can make a deal with him or maybe banish him back to the realms”

Batman studied the box for a moment, then nodded. “Set it up. I’ll handle the rest.”

Constantine smirked. “You’re awfully confident for a bloke with no magical experience. Alright, Bats. Let’s hope your preparation is enough to stop an interdimensional ghost king. Because if it’s not, we’re both screwed.”

------

Danny and Peter had bolted from the diner, the stolen burgers clutched tightly in their hands as they tore down the wet streets. The cashier’s shouts faded into the background, drowned out by the sound of their pounding footsteps and the rain slicking the pavement. Peter had been mid-bite when Danny grabbed him by the arm.

“Whoa—hey! I was eating that!” Peter protested, cheeks puffed out like a squirrel and half stuffed with the burger. “Yeah, and you can finish it while we’re not being chased!” Danny snapped, his free hand glowing faintly green as he phased the two of them through a chain-link fence. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

Peter huffed, clinging to his burger like it was a lifeline. “I could’ve handled it, you know. escape artist here!” “Right,” Danny muttered, dragging him through an alley. “Because nothing says ‘stealth’ like a guy in red and blue spandex with mustard on his face.”

“Hey—!”

Before Peter could argue further, Danny pulled him into his ghostly form, phasing them through a solid brick wall and into the backstreets. They were invisible and untouchable now, slipping through Gotham’s shadows like ghosts—because, well, one of them was a literal ghost.

“Just get us back to the warehouse,” Peter grumbled, licking ketchup off his hand. “I’m starving, and this burger is the only good thing that’s happened to me all day.”

When Danny phased them back into the warehouse, the first thing Peter noticed was the eerie silence. The second thing he noticed was the faint hum of energy vibrating in the air. His Spider-Sense screamed at him, but before he could say a word, Danny froze mid-step.

The glowing green of Danny’s ghost aura intensified, and in a flash of light, his human form flickered away. In its place stood… something else. Peter’s jaw dropped as he stumbled back, clinging to his half eaten burger. Danny or whoever this was didn’t look like the snarky teenager he’d been running around with. This was something entirely otherworldly. 

Danny’s form was taller now, his presence almost overwhelming. His white hair glimmered like freshly fallen snow, cascading down to his shoulders, and his eyes burned an unearthly, glowing green, deeper and more intense than before. An ice-like crown floated just above his head along with the floating aurora shimmering, while a cape of flickering starlight billowed behind him, even though there was no wind. His pale skin seemed to glow softly, and across his cheeks and arms were faint freckles that looked like constellations.

He didn’t look evil. If anything, he looked eternal. Ancient. Like something out of a fantasy novel, the kind of being that could step off the cover of a book as a god or a king. But Danny didn’t seem to notice or care. His glowing form flickered slightly as his eyes dropped to the burger that had been in his hands, landing unceremoniously on the floor inside the glowing summoning circle that now caged him.

“No…” Danny whispered, his voice reverberating unnaturally, as if layered with echoes from another world. His gaze locked onto the destroyed burger, his expression a mix of disbelief and betrayal. “No, not the burger.” He dropped to his knees, staring mournfully at the fallen burger. “I was so hungry,” he moaned, his voice still layered with that eternal echo. “It was right there. I could taste it.”

The Dark Knight’s imposing figure emerged from the darkness, his cape sweeping behind him as he approached the summoning circle. Constantine followed close behind, looking both impressed and deeply concerned by the glowing, ethereal figure trapped in the sigils. “Bloody hell,” Constantine muttered, staring at Danny. “That’s him. That’s the Ghost King.”

“Excuse me?” Peter growled, his voice rising with agitation. His Spider-Sense was still buzzing like mad, and the fact that Danny was trapped in some kind of magical cage was making his blood boil. “You did this? You trapped him?” Batman’s piercing gaze shifted to Peter, who was still clutching his burger like a feral dog protecting its last meal. Peter stepped in front of the glowing circle as if to shield Danny. “He’s not dangerous! He’s just a kid!”

Constantine snorted. “A kid? That thing in there’s no kid, mate. That’s the Ghost King. Ruler of the Infinite Realms. A being with enough power to wipe this city off the map if he wanted to.”

Peter’s eyes narrowed, Before Constantine or Batman could react, Peter crouched low, his body tensing like a spring. His mask was still off, and his expression was fierce, like a wild animal protecting its territory. He lunged forward, aiming a web at Constantine.

“Oi, what the hell—” Constantine yelped as he rolls to get away from the web. Peter didn’t stop there. He fired another web at the edge of the summoning circle, trying to disrupt the sigils. The glowing lines sparked as his webbing hit them, but they held firm.

“Stop,” Batman growled, stepping forward. “You don’t understand what you’re dealing with.”

“Neither do you,” Peter snapped, flipping backward to avoid Batman’s outstretched hand. Constantine groaned, rubbing his temples. “Bloody hell, kid’s gone feral.”

The warehouse was a mess. Peter had put up a valiant fight, but, as he quickly learned, going toe-to-toe with Batman wasn’t exactly a winning strategy. He was now webbed and tied to a metal support beam, arms crossed and glaring at the Dark Knight, who stood nearby with the stoic calm of someone who had done this a thousand times before. Constantine was in front of Danny, cigarette in hand. "Hello, Pariah," Constantine said lightly, exhaling smoke. His tone was casual, but there was an edge to it, like a man trying to act calm in front of a tiger. "Nice skin. Little young for you, though, innit?"

Danny froze, his glowing eyes snapping up to fix on Constantine. For a moment, he just stared, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, his gaze drifted over Constantine, taking in the trench coat, the cigarette, the smug smirk. And then Danny's face twisted into an expression of pure, genuine offense.

"Wait a minute," Danny said, his voice echoing slightly with that otherworldly tone. He pointed a glowing hand at Constantine, his eyes narrowing like he was trying to place a face to a name. "Are you... the Soul Whore guy?"

The room went silent. Even Batman raised an eyebrow.

Constantine blinked, his cigarette frozen halfway to his lips.  "You know, the guy who goes around selling bits of his soul to anyone with a checkbook and a half-decent sales pitch? You’re kind of infamous in the Infinite Realms. Everyone’s heard of you." He tilted his head, his expression growing even more incredulous. "I mean, we all knew you were a mess, but I didn’t think you were is much of a mess."

Constantine stared at him, his mouth working like he was trying to come up with a response but couldn’t quite form the words. Peter, still tied up, looked between them with wide, confused eyes.

"Wait, wait, wait," Peter said, his voice cutting into the silence. "What do you mean, 'Soul Whore'? He looks like if Mr Strange ended up homeless!" Danny ignored him, his glowing eyes narrowing further as he seemed to piece something together. His jaw dropped suddenly, and he took a step closer to the edge of the circle. "No way. You’re that dumbass, the one who slept with Pariah Dark. Aren’t you?"

Constantine froze. His cigarette fell from his lips, and for a moment, the only sound in the room was the faint crackle of the summoning circle’s magic. Peter’s jaw dropped. "WHAT?!" Danny threw his hands up, his glowing aura flaring slightly. "Holy crap, it is you! You’re the guy who hooked up with Pariah Dark and put him in the Sarcophagus! I thought that was just a rumor."

Constantine’s face paled, his usual cocky demeanor evaporating as he raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Alright, now hold on a second—"

"He slept with the ghost king you fought and won against?!" Peter shouted, his voice rising with disbelief. "Are you serious?! He’s serious, isn’t he?!" He turned to Batman, who, to his credit, looked as stoic as ever. 

Danny, meanwhile, looked like he was having the time of his life. He crossed his arms, grinning like a cat who had just caught a particularly juicy mouse. "You know, I heard the stories, but I didn’t actually think it was true!"

"It was—look, it’s complicated, alright? It wasn’t my bloody fault!" Constantine tries to defend himself forgetting for a moment that this was the Ghost King he had trapped. Danny snorted. "Sure it wasn’t. That explains why half the ghosts in the Realms call you 'the Soul Whore.' You’ve got a reputation, dude. And not a good one."

Constantine groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Christ, I need a drink." This wasn’t Pariah Dark. This was something else. And whatever it was, it wasn’t bound by the same rules. 

And that terrified Constantine.

[monarchberrysblog]

Alright

*clasps hand*

I love you so very much, and I’ll be watching you from your window. (Inside joke)

How about… cowboy!Miggy spectating a gal and her pals, she’s challenged to ride one of those rodeo bulls by her friends and fell like, three seconds in. Obvi she failed, so she has to go get another round of shots for her friends. So he took the opportunity to offer some lessons with the cowboy himself😇

EL TORO 🐂

✭ 18+ Cowboy! Miguel O’Hara x fem! Reader ✭

✭ summary: losing a bet with your best friends, you buy drinks after failing to stay on a mechanical bull for eight seconds, but before you buy another round of drinks, a local cowboy helps you…

✭ content warning: sexual innuendos, Miguel is a little unhinged, dry humping, grinding, cumplay (?), cum-eating (?), semi-exhibitionism, hook-up with a stranger, and alcohol is mentioned. VIEWER'S DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

✭ word count: +1.8k words

✭ a/n: AUGHHHH cowboy! Miguel has me in a chokehold omfg. but here you go, pookie! thank you for your undying support and love! Your wish has been granted 💋 (if there are flaws, I apologize in advance 🩷)

MATURE CONTENT MDNI | MINORS WHO INTERACT WILL BE BLOCKED

Orange opaque lights make up the dimly lit bar. Locals from around were either at a table, drinking away from those green beer bottles you grew familiar with ever since you were younger, or seeing your uncles consume those bottles at a baptism or a wedding banquet. Or you saw the occasional burnt middle-aged man sitting at the island counter, rambling to the bartender about his day, complaining about his cattle or the weather. But for you, you came to the bar unwillingly, as your best friends insisted that you liven up the environment.

But really, it was a pathetic excuse to get you out of your grandparent's bungalow home and to meet someone.

・º♢

"Come on! It'll be fun!" Xina urges, flashing her signature smug smile that always appears when she's up to something mischievous. It was always the same arrogant look she did whenever y'all were kids when she got extra chips or a cookie from her pantry closet. Hell, it was the same look your other friends gave you whenever your grandmother or grandfather offered them fresh fruits from their farm.

"No," you quickly retort, sipping your cocktail. "Please!" MJ pleads, grasping your wrists and seemingly ready to kneel. "PLEASE!" Xina soon exclaims, joining MJ to cause a scene with those around you.

"Xina, MJ…!"

"PLEASE!" They draw out the last syllable together, their voice taking on a childish tone reminiscent of when they were eight years old, fleeing from a honey bee or spider. "Okay! Okay..." You groan out, shaking your head in defeat.

"Yes!" Xina pumps her fist in victory before removing your fruity margarita from your hands and placing it on the table. "Now get on! And if you don't last eight seconds, you pay for our next round of drinks!" A low groan emerges from the back of your throat like alcohol stinging your esophagus, ready to escape. But your body, unfortunately, didn't want to do that for you so you could weasel out of the bet. You look back to see MJ at y'all's table, keeping an eye on the drinks while looking at Xina guide (dragging) you across the bar.

Your shoes squeak against the wooden floors as you get pushed to the mechanical bull area. "Just stay on there for eight seconds, and you don't have to pay for our round of shots." You and Xina passed through the semi-packed bar, occasionally brushing shoulders from a couple of guests in the bar. But one character caught your attention, nearly knocking you off your feet.

His russet brown eyes burned into your soul while his cowboy hat shielded the glisten in his eyes, giving him a dead look by any bystander who dared to make eye contact with him. His eyes match yours, lingering on your orbs. The prolonged millisecond of eye contact seized when he smirked, his eyes lingering on you and you only.

His hands, weathered and rugged, bore the marks of hard work - dry, with occasional scars and scratches, yet exuding strength. They were the hands of a hard-working man, capturing attention as much as his eyes did, capturing attention as much as his eyes did. His shirt was unbuttoned, clearly showing a bit of his chest and hair peppered. Oh, how it would feel to be held in those strong hands... Or how his hands would hold onto your hips while bouncing on his dick—

"C'mon! It's your turn to get on!" Xina urges, directing your attention away from the man and to your inevitable end of the night- falling off a mechanical bull within three seconds.

/

You sit at your table, hair somewhat touseled about while you order the next round of drinks for you and your rowdy group of friends. You looked at the half-assed served shot glass and glared at your best friends as they took their shots. With a sigh of defeat, you walk to the bar counter and take a seat on the wooden stool, covering your face and hiding away the embarrassment.

You settled onto the bar counter, absently running your finger along the smooth rim of your shot glass. A sense of intrusion picked at your gut as you felt someone trespassing on your personal space. Glancing to your left, you saw the familiar figure of the man from earlier, seated a few stools away. Your eyes dart back to the tiny glass in your hands, playing with it.

"You couldn't last eight seconds."

That sounded more evocative than it had to.

"Excuse me?"

"3.4 seconds." He adds, not acknowledging the rhetorical question you spat out. "You're those women having to give up straddling like how a car needs an oil change."

What the—

"What does this have to do with anything?"

"You lack balance, sweetheart. And movement." He lifts his shot glass, calling the bartender to refill his shot glass. "It’s straightforward."

"Oh yeah, since you seem to know everything about it, give me some constructive criticism then." You reiterate, knowing that this man was going to play the smartass card with you by sharing information that is useless or already known by the public.

"You’re not engaging your core, and you don't have any balance on your hips." He sighs before mumbling about city folk and getting off his seat. "C’mere." He waved his hand over, ushering you to get close. You didn't know if it was your being an actual dumbass, but you got off your seat and made your way over.

"M’kay," He sighs before getting off his seat and touching your hips. “It's all here, sweetheart. You have to move with the bull; it's called inertia," His hand rests on your hips and squeezes that specific area. "Always move in the opposite direction of the mechanical bull."

"If the bull moves forward, you move back. And if the bull moves back…?"

"I move forward?"

He nods before patting your tummy. "And engage your core a bit. You have abs under there, sweetheart."

His words of advice continue but they muffled out while taking note of his hand resting against your soft stomach, feeling the heat of his palm.

You take note of his words and stop. "Wait, how do you know how to do this?"

"Take it or leave it." He mumbles before he takes his shot and slams the shot glass down. "Actually," He clears his throat and sighs. "Tell them you want to redeem yourself, then tell your friend, the one who dared you to ride the bull, to buy the bill, and I owe you a drink if you make it past eight seconds."

"And if you don't, you owe me a drink."

He removes his hands from your soft stomach and sits back on the stool. "It’s your decision, sweetheart."

You think momentarily, considering the options he placed on the table. The idea of not having to pay a tab and getting a free drink sounded satisfying.

"Will you show me how?"

"Sure, why not?"

/

Sitting on his lap in the darkest, dingiest parts of the bar was not in the plans, but your pigheadedness said otherwise. You straddle down on his lap, resting your hands on his shoulders. "Keep your balance, sweetheart." His right hand pats on your hip before bucking his hips against yours, earning a low groan from him.

"Engage your core and move in the opposite direction of me." His warm breath fans your face before he bucks his hips once again to your clothed sex. A soft mewl escapes your lips, feeling his clothed bulge against your clothed entrance.

"You can do it, c’mon…”

You pathetically moved against his aching bulge, pushing your moist gusset against his denim jeans. "There we go, move your hips to gain balance, move with me."

His dick twitched underneath you, pushing up to be free from its constraints. You slowly gyrated down, bucking your hips against his movement, creating a comfortable tempo.

A choked groan verberates your chest, sending the sensation to Miguel, earning a low moan from the man. "C'mon, keep it up." He jerks his bulge upwards, finally finding its way in between your clothed folds. You wailed, feeling his length now against your clothed clit, rubbing against the sensitive bud slowly and deliciously. You could sense the arousal trickling down to your soaked gusset and gathering the slick arousal in the cloth. "You can do it."

You patted his shoulder and took in deep breaths.

"Try again." His usual staid words slowly evolved into breathy whimpers. Miguel's words of affirmation slowly died, becoming breathy moans and grunts. The typical demands slowly turned into begging as you continued to push downwards, feeding the desires you two desperately wanted.

"Muneca..." He rasps out before you see his hands scramble down to his belt.

The sound of his belt clinking was enough of an indicator, but you knew what was next. The sound, let alone left you salivating with anticipation.

"Grind on the length."

Oh... Oh.

Glancing down, your eyes widen at the sight. Sure, he was pushing seven inches but the girth... With your left hand, you move the gusset of your underwear to the side and slowly guide your aching core down to his length, slowly enveloping his length into your soaked folds.

A low groan verberates your chest cavity, soaking the length of your slick, sticky arousal. The slippery sensation of your clit gliding down Miguel’s length, creating delicious friction.

"C’mon, move your hips."

Your body went on autopilot on that demand, relying on your slick arousal to move fluidly on his length. "You're a fast learner, aren't you?" He groans out quietly, still holding onto your hips.

Soft pants and groans filled the small space and evolved into loud guttural groans from both of y'all.

"Sweetheart, slow down a bit." His breathy request fell on deaf ears before you did as he demanded. "You're humping me like I'm your pillow." He groans out before he adjusts you off his length, feeling the slick linger onto his skin.

He takes his pointer and middle finger, gathers the slick off his length, and places said fingers at the bottom plush of your lips, lightly tapping them, almost asking for permission. "Seems like you understand what I say," He pats your rear lovingly with his free hand before you suckle on his fingers, tasting the mess you left behind. He hums while you clean the pads of his fingers clean.

"Now, ride the bull for me." He demands.

/

The walk back to the lively scenery returned you to your senses as you prepared to confront your little group of friends. The conversation jumped about like crickets hopping around a long grassy field. It felt like there was no point in being driven before you challenged them against their better judgment and bet. Xina's lips pursed straight, and she nodded to her other girlfriends. The group looked at each other momentarily and caved in, just to see themselves embarrass themselves for the second time that night.

But it wasn't going to happen again...

Straddling down on the pseudo-bull, you looked out to the semi-lively bar, seeing your friends watching from afar and your 'mentor' looking at you while taking a shot. With a raise of his brow and tipping his cowboy hat, a surge of content rested in your belly.

[jscrawls]

I need the kids to have watched Bruce get his ass kicked by window reader. Like all of them cheering her on because who doesn’t wanna see the Batman lose to this (much smaller of a build) person. He’s 6 foot something and she’s 4 to 5 foot something 😂 anyways I loved the new chapter it was so good. That I’ve decided I don’t wanna throw rocks

LMAO 4 SOMETHING FEET? Widow reader that small would have to get extra nasty in a fight like-it'd be a bloodbath 😅

If you mean the actual accidental fight in the alleyway? Babs 100% got that on camera and watched every bit of it on repeat. Probably did some bat-ai digital enhancing so she could watch it in 4K if it was on some shitty security camera. And yes, she shared it in the non-Batman group chat with the others. Jason rated the gun-slap 8/10, (he thinks they could've hit harder, loosen a tooth at the least!)

Damian and Cass both rate the gas splash and bottle smash 10/10. They can appreciate using what's available to you.

Now I wanna do a normal sparring blurb 😂

Everyone's in the cave for the first official spar with widow, they've seen them train and workout by now, but they all do that, even Alfred does. So it's nothing groundbreaking, what they really wanna see is their fighting style.

Currently Bruce and widow are on the mats, hands wrapped and taped up and they've got compression wear on their elbows and knees for safety of course. The others are all watching very closely as Bruce gestures then towards the center of the mat to explain the rules.

"alright, let's go over the basics. No hitting below the belt, no going for the eyes, and no deadly force." He gives you a pointed look at that one while Jason boos him and gives two thumbs down from where he's leaning against a post, Bruce continues speaking regardless of the interruption. "... This is a serious spar though, and I'd like you to treat it as such. No horsing around, just give me your best shots so I can see what you can do."

You watch him patiently while tightening your wrist wraps one last time, the pressure feels nice after all this time without proper gear, but hitting a person is gonna be even nicer. "It's a serious fight?"

Bruce clears his throat subtly, Cass and Tim exchange glances and out of the corner of your eye, you watch Stephanie and Barbara handing something to each other.

"yes, like I said I wanna see what you can-oof!" Bruce grunts as your shin connects with his side in a sudden crane kick, the strike was so sudden it caught him off guard as you hadn't even wound yourself up first.

Stephanie loudly guffaws and you hear someone slapping something, possibly covering their mouth?

Well the fights on apparently.

Bruce throws his hand up to catch your arm as you swing a left hook at him and moves his foot to sweep your ankles, okay maybe it was just a lucky shot-

Your free arm grabs his wrist while you hop over his leg, pressing your feet against his side and leveraging yourself up to throw a thigh over his arm so you're now upside down, hanging your entire weight off his limb like a fucking spider monkey. You secure one thigh around his bicep, squeezing him hard enough that you won't be shook off easily and start kicking at his head with the other leg.

Holy shit you're brutal, he should've worn a mouth piece or something because wow you don't pull your punches or kicks. Bruce quickly drops his weight to the mat like a ragdoll, using his size to his advantage to land heavily on you and put your damn kicking to a stop.

Jason's calling out random advise to you like this is a televised wrestling match and Duke is filming the whole thing, narrating and giving commentary to his phone like this is a nature documentary.

Even Dick is invested, though he's trying to maintain a calm demeanor since Damian's right beside him, trying to analyze your moves and he's trying not to distract the kid.

As soon as both of you loosen your grip you roll away from each other, Bruce quickly stands but you remain squatting, hunched like a defensive cat in the center of the mat. The kids and Bruce are watching you closely, are you out of surprise attacks? Your whole thing seems to be take them by surprise and end it as quickly as possible so maybe you're running out of ideas?

You tilt your head as you watch Bruce closely, your expression becomes more mocking as you smirk at him.

"well? Do I have to take the lead on everything or are you gonna move."

Bruce knows a goad when he hears one, but obviously you expect him to participate more than just blocking and standing around so he'll oblige you. Cautiously, he steps forward. Leading with his dominant side in defensive posture as he waits for you to do something.

Instead you just stand up and back away like you hadn't taunted him a moment ago, do you expect him to follow you all the way across the mat? You're not exactly indicating anything with your body language so Bruce carefully pauses in the middle of the area to see what you'll do, his stance widens and he keeps his hands up and close to himself.

The cave seems to quiet down as everyone holds their breath in wait, nine pairs of eyes on you as you stretch your arms above your head, then dart towards Bruce.

You throw your elbow up towards his throat and he blocks, he blocks the knee aiming for his gut too. Feeling emboldened he attempts to throw a kick but you hop out of the way like a bunny and then come right back into his personal space, he catches your hand bait you can aim for his nose and starts to twist your arm behind your back to restrain you, but you lean forward and again drop your weight to the mat like a wet bag of laundry and kick at his elbow.

He grunts disapprovingly at that. "What part of fight clean did you not get?"

Alfred speaks up from what he's occupying the bat computer chair. "You did say this was a serious fight, master Bruce."

He crosses his arms over his chest scornfully, one thin brow raising as if judging Bruce.

Stephanie Snickers and lightly elbows Cass. "I'm starting to think all shorties are viscous, I thought you and Tim were examples not the standard."

"hey!" Tim sounds very offended at that, but still doesn't take his eyes off the ring for long.

"well you know what they say, short people are closer to hel-ow!" Damian roughly elbows Dick before he can finish that sentence.

While the crowd of children all bicker, you kick Bruce in the knee in an attempted take down. He grunts in pain but manages to stay upright enough to throw his arms around you in an aggressive bear hug, yanking you close enough to trap you against his body. as soon as his hands move you tense.

Once his arms start to lock around you do you realize he's going for a classic chokehold, so before he can lock his hand in the crook of his elbow you play dirty and reach up to give him a nasty horse bite. Your thumb and forefinger curl and pinch the softest part of his inner underarm, you knowing damn well how many nerves are there as you grab as hard as you can.

The second Bruce hisses you let go and quickly drop your weight and drive your elbow into his liver repeatedly, he seems to be fed up with you and drops his arms from around your neck to grab your waist and body slam you to the floor.

That really winded you, so you're slow to wriggle out from under him. Though you both seem to be done for the moment as he sits down properly, now he's just watching you quietly as he recovers. His dignity

Duke is the first one to break the silence that followed the end of the fight, pausing his video and triumphantly holding his phone in the air. "I got all of it!"

Babs glances over at him in amusement. "You know there are cameras all over in here, right?"

Duke nods even as Jason sidles over to him and gestures for his phone. "Obvs, but those don't capture the best angles on the training mats."

Dick ducks into the little training area and hands both you and Bruce a water bottle and a helping hand up, Bruce declines as he cracks his bottle where he sits but you allow the younger man to pull you to your feet. Smirking to yourself before throwing one final verbal jab at the man before walking off the mats.

"y'know..... Bucky definitely still hits harder."

He scowls at your back so quickly you'd think you'd just poisoned his drink, dropping the water bottle as he pushes himself to his feet. "Okay, who the hell is Bucky!?"

🔹🔹🔹

| m.list |

A/n: thank you for sparing me, I've had threats of dog-stealing and everything 😭😭based some of this off past boxing experience lol 😂 smaller hands might equal less muscle behind it, but the smaller point of impact can make up for the power loss and still mess u up. At least that's what I remember that ish felt like anywho, I've slept since then so eh 🤷‍♀️

@viilan

[thealtoduck]

Greedy

Peter Parker x Male Black Cat!Reader

Warnings: Smut, semi-angsty, top!Reader, bottom!Peter, friends with benefits, unprotected sex, rough sex, anal sex, fingering, doggy style, spanking, you cry after sex, calling Peter a whore, slut, etc…

Male Black Cat!Reader: Masterlist

Summary: After a failed robbery you’re pissed of so Peter helps you release some frustration…

——

You shot your grappling hook and swung yourself to another building closely followed by Spider-Man. He’d been able to keep up with you a lot better than usual, having learned to avoid your regular tricks and traps.

”You’ve gotten better at this!” you called out to the superhero chasing you. You jumped the gap to another building. Suddenly a web caught your arm pulling it back making you lose balance and fall hitting the rooftop floor.

You felt a pain in your leg as you quickly tried standing back up. Spider-Man swung right over your head and landed in front of you. ”Or maybe you’ve just gotten slow” he teased, the two of you then engaged in combat.

You slashing at him with your claws and him doing his best to block and dodge your attacks. Once he went on the offensive you ducked his quick strong jabs. Spider-Man noticed the leg you fell on was shaky as you avoided his punches.

He used this to his advantage and did a sweep with his leg knocking you to the ground, it was usually by now you found some gadget or distraction to give yourself a chance to escape. Spider-Man quickly ran up to you and ripped your backpack from your back and quickly webbed one of your arms down keeping you in place.

”You can’t take that” you said losing the regular playfullness in your voice. ”I just did” Spider-Man said victoriously. He went for the zipper on the bag while muttering ”What did you even steal?”. You watched with a glare as Spider-Man brought out a set of files from your bag.

”Put that back” you demanded but he ignored you. He opened one of the files and stated ”It’s the layout of a prison” he then turned his gaze to you and asked ”Are you planning to break someone out?”. He continued looking through some other files as you desperately looked for a way to free yourself.

You heard sirens in the distance approaching and even though you couldn’t see his mouth you knew Spider-Man was smirking. ”Well looks like i finally caught you Cat, tell me how does it feel?”.

Then you found something. ”Oh Spider… when will you learn, you can’t cage the Black Cat�� you said and threw one of your newer gadgets towards him, which he easily dodged out of the way for it as it hit the water tower behind him. ”You missed” Spider-Man said proudly, but as he noticed your satisfied facial expression he realised… you hadn’t missed.

Next thing he knew an explosion came and he was completely drenched in water and the water tower started collapsing on to him. The files you had collected were washed away spreading wet sheets of paper out all over the rooftop.

Spider-Man managed to catch the falling water tower as it landed on top of him. He then threw it to the side and turned to where you had been webbed finding only an empty spot with some left over webbing.

”Shit” he swore to himself. He tried to pick up some wet paper files but they fell apart almost instantly as he did. At least he had managed to foil your break out plans he thought to himself.

——

You grappled your way to your secret lair, an old storage unit your mom had used during her time as the Black Cat. You opened your door and walked inside seeing collections of jewelry and paintings, maps with marked out locations and all your tech stuff. You slammed the door behind you and ripped off your mask throwing it aside.

You walked up to your working bench and slammed your fists on the table, your one chance you could’ve had to free your mom from prison and that stupid arachnid boy had ruined everything.

You grabbed something random from the working bench and threw it across the room in a rage, making it smash against the wall…

——

You layed with crossed arms on your bed leaning against the headborard as Peter played video games on your flatscreen tv. Your dad was out of town for business so you and Peter decided to have a sleepover while he was gone.

You thought about canceling with Peter after last nights failed theft but you hoped his company might help cheer you up… so far it wasn’t working, you had a noticable scowl on your face and a clear lack of energy in your voice.

Peter had noticed but not pointed it out as he wasn’t completely sure you wanted to talk about it. Once he finished the level he put the controller aside and layed down next to you. He gently touched your arm and asked ”Y/n, are you okay?”

You turned to him with a distracted look and said simple ”Yeah” but then added a ”Just in a bad mood”. ”Do you want me to leave or something? I can give you space?” Peter asked sweetly, sitting up ready to leave if you wanted some alone time.

”No, stay, i like your company” you said but with more softness in your voice this time as you put your hand on top of his, giving it a light squeeze. ”Alright… is there anything i can do for you?” Peter asked generously. You stayed silent for a moment…

”Can i fuck you?…” you said a mix of coldness and longing in your voice. Peter was caught of guard making him silent, making you quickly add ”You really don’t have to if you don’t want to, i just- i just want some release… that’s all”.

Peter thought about it for a moment and asked curiously ”What did you have in mind?”. You stood up and said ”Come on” and led him out of your room, and down the hallway. You then opened the door to another room where Peter followed you inside.

It was a bigger room than yours, the first thing Peter noticed were the two glass doors along the left wall that opened to a balcony looking out over the other suburban houses. He looked around the room, along the walls were some really nice paintings, like straight out of a museum.

There were also some pictures of you as a child spread around the room, as well as a big family portrait hanging over the headboard of a large bed, a bed for two. This was you parents room.

You stood in front of the double bed and then explained in a darkened tone ”I want to take you like a whore on my parents bed”. The request left Peter on mute, this was something new to him… having sex on your parents bed felt so inappropriate and lewd… and he was suprisingly really turned on by it.

”Look, like i said you really don’t have to if-” you said again but Peter interrupted saying ”Yeah, let’s do it”. You nodded and said ”Okay, get ready then, i’ll get the lube”. You said leaving and walking back to your room.

Peter slowly started undressing pulling of his shirt and pants, leaving him in socks and underwear. Peter moved on to the bed and tried to position himself in a sexy way, like he’d seen you do before.

When you came back inside you threw the bottle of lube on to the bed and tugged your own shirt off. You stood yourself on the edge of the bed and pulled Peter closer by his legs. Peter stood up on his knees and the two of you started hungrily making out.

You grabbed at Peter’s bulge feeling him getting hard in your hand, you then slipped in your hand inside his underwear and rubbed your hand along his cock with a firm grip of him. Peter let out a soft moan in your face as you did.

You then gently pushed Peter on to his back on the big bed and dragged his underwear down his legs and threw them on the floor. Peter was now naked in front of you apart from his white socks which you decided to leave on because you thought it made him look cute.

You unbuckled your belt and pulled you pants down and climbed onto the bed in between his legs. You opened the bottle of lube and poured some in your hand and spreading it on your fingers. You then lifted Peter’s spread legs revealing his tight hole that hadn’t been used in a while.

You mercilessly started shoving your first finger in to him making his mouth gape open. ”Fuck” Peter swore as you watched in satisfaction. You impatiently added another finger into him and then another, pumping them in and out him loosening up his ass. Peter’s dick was now rockhard as you finger fucked him.

You then suddenly pulled out your fingers from him, wanting to get your hard manhood inside him. You flipped Peter on to his stomach giving you a full view of his bubble butt, you started teasing your length against his hole.

You squeezed Peter’s left cheek and gave it a light spank. ”You want my cock?” you asked as you kept teasing his awaiting heat. ”Yeah, i want it, please” Peter said almost begging. You spread his ass and pushed your hung cock in to his tight hole, making Peter whine beneath you.

You groaned feeling Peter’s tight walls around your manhood. ”Fuck Y/n, you’re so big” Peter moaned as you sheated yourself inside him. ”Bet you like that” you said grabbing his hips. Without giving Peter much time to adjust you started rolling your hips, your cock moving in and out of him.

”Taking it like a real slut” you said degradingly as Peter moaned in to the matress. You sped up your thrusts making the sound of skin slapping together sound out through the room, his ass kneading your cock like perfection. You moved your hands to Peter’s back pressing him onto the bed.

”Such a whore for my cock aren’t you?” you asked him as you roughly took his ass. But Peter was to blissed out to answer, you raised a hand and gave Peter’s right ass cheek a hard slap that echoed through the room. ”Aren’t you?” you repeated demandingly.

”Yes, i’m your whore” Peter let out through the ectasy he felt. You fucked yourself in to his heat agressively, using the rage you felt to fuck him like a bitch. His hole clenching around you making you groan loudly.

You bodies started getting sweaty from you intense fucking. Peter moaned loudly as you plowed in to him. ”You love when men fuck you full of their cum?” you asked in a rough tone as your big cock pushed against Peter’s prostate.

”Yes, i love being filled with cum!!!” Peter moaned loudly. If anyone was standing outside the bedroom door they would’ve definetely heard every single word. You laid down on top of Peter and took his hands that were gripping the bedsheets and held Peter down as you thrust wildly in to him.

Peter started getting close from the feeling of your cock fucking deeply in to his now loose open hole. ”I’m gonna cum” Peter whined through his moans. ”Cum then you little whore” you said grabbing Peter’s messy sweaty hair in your hand.

Peter’s length pressed down to the matress then started spilling his seed in to a puddle on the sheets. You thrusts started growing eratic and hungry as you chased your own release. ”Gonna fuck my whore full of cum” you growled to the tired out Peter beneath you.

”Yes fill me with your cum!” Peter gasped which was all you needed to hear as you delivered one last powerful thrust in to him and let your seed erupt deep inside Peter’s heat, filling him all the way up. His hole started leaking as soon as you pulled out of him.

You laid down beside Peter in exhaustion feeling cleansed of your anger. You looked to the side where spotted a picture on the nightside table, it was a picture of you as a kid and your mom before she got locked up. It made a new feeling bubble up inside you.

Sadness…

A tear started trickling down your cheek your cheek as you let out a small whimper. Peter heard and immediately turned to you. He noticed tears had started uncontrolably rolling down your cheeks.

”Y/n, are you okay? Did i do something wrong?” Peter quickly questioned. You shook your head and said ”No, i’m just emotional”. Peter looked conserned at you. ”Can you hold me?” you asked him through sniffs. ”Of course” Peter said and let you nuzzle your tear stained face in to his chest.

He didn’t really understand what was happening or what brought this on but he wrapped his arms around your body letting you cry. You calmed down after a while but you the two of you stayed cuddled together.

Soon enough the two of you fell asleep in the big bed holding each other closely all through the night.

[webslingingslasher]

if trouble needed peter during the breakup do you think she’d still be able to call?

yes. and i will now expand, thank u.

peter stares down at his phone, it's not that he's against answering, it's that he doesn't think you meant to call him. or maybe you're drunk and want to berate him.

either way he'd hear your voice and that would be really nice.

'hello?'

'hey.'

okay, you meant to call him. you don't sound drunk, you sound sad.

'everything okay?'

a slight muffle, you switch ears. 'no, not really. i'm lost.'

'on what?' you breathe out a laugh, peter smiles.

'no, actually lost. i was... i'm sorry, i don't mean to hit you where it hurts but i was out with this guy and he ditched me and i have no fucking idea where i am and my phone's about to die.'

peter's quiet, he's all you have right now.

'you're my only hope, obi-wan.' a cheap shot at help, peter appreciates the effort.

'it's- help me, obi-wan kenobi, you're my only hope.'

your turn to smile. 'close enough.'

peter slowly moves around, patting down his pockets to make sure he has everything. 'it's late, trouble. why were you ditched?'

you laugh, but it's not funny. 'you know, it sucks to say that you're the only guy that never threw a temper tantrum when i didn't wanna fuck.'

ouch, a slight sting. it feels better to know it didn't happen, painful to think it could. 'at least i was good at something.'

'well... you weren't terrible at the sex either. you were good enough you scared me from getting it anywhere else, don't know if you can say the same.'

peter closes his eyes when he breathes in, you haven't hooked up with anyone else either. 'if you're asking, no, i haven't hooked up with anyone.'

'i didn't ask.' ah, that's what peter was waiting for. the bait of a question, to turn around and pretend you didn't care what the answer was. peter knows you're just as relieved that he hasn't either.

'where am i going, trouble?' you give him street names, his heart stutters. it's far, it's late, and it's definitely not safe.

'you're outside? nowhere for you to go?'

'when i say ditched, i mean it. if it wasn't so weird i'd ask you to kick his ass.' peter kind of wants you to ask, he'd do it gladly. and half of it wouldn't even be because he left you hanging.

'how much battery do you have left?' a brief pause, you're checking.

'three percent.'

peter hates what he's about to say, but hates the idea of you with a dead phone even more. 'okay, hang up and i'll come find you.' for a second he thinks you did, until you push out the real reason you called him.

'i'm scared.' so you called him, your protector, your safety blanket.

'i'm coming, i promise.' he's already out of the house, walking one half of the way and he'll cut his time in half by swinging the rest. 'ten minutes, maybe less. i might even break out a light jog for you.'

you look around, there's no one. it feels even more eerie, you're still on three percent. 'do i really have to hang up?' leaving out the 'i need to hear your voice to make everything okay.'

'i want you to save what you have, just in case.'

'okay.' it's not, you can feel your chest tighten and the urge to cry. everything sucks and you just really want peter which somehow makes things simultaneously worse and better.

'hey, peter?' you think you'll regret it.

'yeah?'

'can i spend the night?' you count the seconds. two.

'yeah, of course. always. anytime, you know that.'

you smile, he's still your peter. 'thank you. and thanks for coming to save me.'

'it's kind of my job, some even call me a hero.'

'okay, obi-wan.'

'more like spider-man.'

'oh, you're so full of yourself. you wish you were spider-man.'

peter kisses his teeth, 'no, i really am.'

'then spider-man better come save me in five minutes, otherwise what's the point?'

'oh? is that the way i win you back?'

it's not so jokey anymore, in fact peter thinks your phone died. but no, still connected. before he can say that he wasn't thinking and that he's sorry and he was joking you answer him.

'i don't think it would hurt.' 

[simpcityy]

I’m Not Her (Father Miguel O’Hara x Teen! Daughter Reader)

Summary: Miguel O’Hara is your biological father but it’s not great being his daughter when he’s hooked in the past still.

Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel or any of its characters. This is very short as well! Just a little prompt I thought also, I know the song is about a girl who loves a boy etc., but I thought of it more as father and daughter way. *Ahem* Him thinking of Gabi rather than the present daughter he has…I’m sorry if I confused you.

Word Count: 500

Warnings: Use of female pronouns, Use of (Y/N), angst, Father Miguel, overall, it’s just sad. Uhhh I think that is all for now.

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6

Being the biological daughter of Miguel O’Hara has its ups and downs but mostly downs according to you. Walking through the Spider Society, you held some reports from Jess, she was on her way to hand them over to your father but seeing the kind person you are, you decided to do it for her so she can rest. You're amazed how a woman so pregnant can still fight. Walking down the halls, you were alone with your thoughts. The time he left to be a father to another girl..a girl named Gabriella…were you not enough for him? What did Gabi have that you didn’t? So many thoughts running through your head only to be snapped from hearing Mayday giggling in the room. Taking a deep breath, you pushed in ready for the chaos. “Hey! (Y/N)!” Peter smiles holding an energetic child. “Hey” You responded before looking over at Miguel who was looking at the videos that hurt you the most. Videos of him and Gabriella. You only frown a bit before masking it. “I'll just drop this off” You dropped the files onto a flat surface before walking to the door. “Hey Boo! You going to ask him?” Lyla appears in front of you smiling. You look at her and back to Miguel before shaking your head. “No…he has better things to do” You whisper walking through her, leaving. Lyla watches you staying quiet before next to Miguel. “Files were dropped.” She brought him back to reality. “Hmm? Who?” He mutters looking at the AI. He goes down his platform and picks up the files you left. “(Y/N) did, she was here not long ago” Lyla looks at her phone scrolling through it. Miguel looks at the door where you left not long ago.

Sitting out on the roof of your dimension, your thoughts only seem to be filling you up with anger. Why did he leave you to be a father for another kid…yeah, she lost her father but so did you…he left you to be with her. You groan out in frustration before looking at the time. “There is not enough time left” You mutter before getting up and going back to the house. A home where you stopped waiting for him to come home. Upon reaching your room, you changed into your pjs before walking over to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, you pulled out a cake you ordered yourself from your favorite shop. Placing it on the table, you put the candles on and sat down in front of it. “Happy Birthday to me…happy birthday to me…” You began to sing before letting out a sob. Your candles were put out from your tears. Another year alone and many more to go.

“If I could be her…but I’m not her and she’s not me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Authors note: This was just little one-shot. An idea that always comes to mind whenever I listen to that amazing song! I am working on part 3 of the Biomedical Engineer x Miguel. Hopefully this weekend it comes out along with the last part of my first father figure Miguel x reader. Please check those out if you haven’t. I’m stuck if I should make this into a full series as well, but I don’t know if people would interest in it. Anyways, as always sorry for any grammar errors. Thank you all for the support! Remember to stay hydrated and to keep on simping! (Simp City Population: 62!) Thank you so much for the follows and please you are welcome to reblog my works for others to be aware of this new Miguel O’Hara simp writer!

[xmalereader]

Miguel O’Hara X Black Cat! Male Reader

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|| Masterlist ||

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Authors Note: Took some inspiration from Felicia Hardy and Selene Kyle, let’s be honest Selene is my mother and will let her whip me whenever she wants 😌, so why not make this shot full of sass and perhaps some slight sexual tension? Also all Spanish words are correct, I am fluent in Spanish and Latino myself!

Summary: Every universe had a black cat, weather it ends in a good or bad outcome every Spider-Man had at least experienced being around a black cat. Miguel had his own variant back at his universe, but his story with black cat is interesting.

Warnings: ATSV Slight Spoilers! Some angst, mentions of time travel, breaking and entering, kissing, language, Miguel is tired, mentions of past divorce, mentions of Gabrielle, timeline, loop holes, miles wants to be adopted, reader is trying to bring hell, reader is protective of Miles, breaking the rules, toxic Miguel, Toxic reader, a negative plus a negative is a positive.

Word count: 4.1K

— || Part Two || Part Three ||

—

Noir didn’t know why he enjoyed watching the kid mess up, but it brought some joy into his daily task. Here he is standing on the edge of a roof top, staring down at the city’s number one hero trying to get himself untangled from his own webs. Both he and the little spider in red and black were chasing each other throughout the entire city, nearing midnight he was caught by the cities hero stealing a very valuable gem that was worth thousands, good enough for Noir to steal. How could he not? Now, after hours of chasing here he stands, head tilted in disappointment as he watches the little spider trying to escape his own webs after a malfunction in his own creation.

“Now this goes—wait, no…”

Noir tilts his head back, signing deeply to himself as he tucks the gems into his pocket before jumping down from the building and landing in front of the kid. He was a thief, not some cruel person who’s going to leave this poor kid stuck. “Kid—“

“I got it! I got it! Just have to—AH!”

The kid only get himself tangled into the web even more, causing the thief to roll his eyes, using his own claws to cut thought the webbing like it was nothing. The little spider looks around in surprise and smiles under his mask. “Hey, that worked!”

“Indeed it did.” Noir mocks him back, rolling his eyes from underneath his goggles.

“Now, I’m turning you in—!”

Noir holds his hand up to cut the kid off, pinching the bridge of his nose with a deep sigh. “Kid, we’ve done this too many times. We all know that you’ll never be able to get me so just let it go and go after someone who is actually causing harm.” He give the kid a pointed look before using his grappling hook to get back to the roof top and continue his way back home. Only for the kid to follow after him, he expects himself to get into a fight with the kid again, knowing that he would win the fight and end things quickly.

“Wait! Look, I get that what you’re doing isn’t entirely dangerous nor are you harming anyone but, why do it? Why steal when you can just get a job?”

Noir’s eyes widen and bursts out laughing, shaking his head as the kid stares back confused. “Get a job? Kid, I did have a job but, no matter where I worked it was never enough to survive. Not everyone has an easy life and if you have to take some risks then take it. You can try and stop me all you want, kid. But, it won’t make things better.”

The kid stays silent, taking in his words as Noir brushed past him and makes his way towards the other side of the roof.

“Wait!”

Noir sighs, hand on his hip and looks over his shoulder to see the kid standing his distance. “I’ll stop coming after you.”

That causes him to raise a brow, confused and surprised by the kids sudden words, before he could ask why the kid speaks up. “If you teach me how to fight.”

Of course.

That’s how the two have been getting along after a year of teaching the kid how to defend himself, he was new to the whole hero thing and Noir was the only one who was able to teach him a thing or two. It was rare for him to connect with people who weren’t trying to kill him or let alone take him to prison for stealing something valuable of theirs.

Currently both of the two are sitting on top of a clock tower, the kid eating some pizza while Noir sips his morning coffee, watching the sunrise after spending all night training the kid on how to land his punches. “Isn’t it too early for you to be eating that stuff?” He mumbled out, getting the kids attention who turns to him with a stuffed mouth full of pizza.

“…no?”

Noir chuckles at the kid. “Don’t come to me if you start getting heartburn.” He mumbled around his coffee cup before taking another sip, focusing on the view ahead. The two spend most mornings like this, eating ‘breakfast’ together and enjoying each others company. The kid had stopped trying to get him arrested and each time Noir was caught stealing he always made it out without an issue.

He’s known the kid for a year now and he’s grown onto him. The last time he was around someone he cared about he ended up losing everything and always pushed people away from getting too close, but the kid always found his way back into his life. Noir breaths softly, glancing at the kid who had just finished his box of pizza and closed the lid while whipping the grease from his fingers onto his suit, causing the older man to grimace at his manners.

“All done, so what’s the training today?” The kids voice is full of enthusiasm which causes Noir to chuckle. “No more training.” He sets his coffee cup to the side and stands from sitting on the edge of the clock tower, towering over the kid who tilts his head back, staring at his second mentor. “You’re ready to do things on your own and I am done here.”

“Wait what?” The kid tilts his head to the side. “What do you mean your done here? Are you leaving?”

Noir placed a gentle hand on the kids shoulder. “You’ll do fine on your own, I taught you nearly everything I know. I’m clearly not needed anymore and I have business to attend somewhere else.” Noir was reaching a deadline with his stay here with the kid and had to move onto his next task, wanting to avoid bringing the kid anymore trouble that he’s already dealing with alone in this city.

The little spider before him doesn’t know how to react to this situation, clearly not happy with the outcome but knowing that he can’t do anything about it. “Will you be back?” He asks.

“Maybe, maybe not.” Noir shrugs his shoulders, sighing deeply to himself. “I don’t know…” He really didn’t, one moment he’s here and the next he’s gone. That was his plan and always has been.

Noir can see how bummed out the kid is and can’t help but, pull the kid into a gentle hug. “I’m ever around I’ll make sure to meet you. Perhaps during one of our usual chases.” He gets the kid to chuckle at his humor before the two pull apart. He’s staring at the kid with a sad smile, with a clawed index finger he bops the kid on the nose or where he thinks his nose is at due to him wearing the mask.

“Take care of yourself kid.”

“I’m not a kid…”

Noir chuckled. “You’ll always be a kid.” He picks up his empty coffee cup, making his way over to the ledge of the clock tower, facing his back towards the kid before looking over his shoulder to give the kid one last advice. “Don’t let anyone tell you what you can’t do, remember that.”

With that he jumps off the tower, leaving the kid on his own to continue on his own path.

Noir already planned to leave this place and couldn’t delay it any longer before he finds him. Upon arriving to his apartment, he slips through the window undetected from the neighbors and slips off his tinted goggles along with his gloves, letting out a deep exhale as he looks around the semi empty apartment that he was only planning to use for a short period of time.

He toss the gloves to the side and keeps the rest of his uniform on as he works around the apartment, collecting certain things to take with him while the other stuff he stuffed inside a trash bag, clearly not needing that stuff any longer and tossing it out the window, where it landed down below and into the dumpster.

Once the apartment is fully empty he reaches inside the bag he was planning on taking with him, unzipping the front pocket and pulling out a silver bracelet. He stares at the blank screen, knowing that once he turns it on he will be traced, only giving him a few minutes to plan his escape. He zips up his bag and slips on his goggles again along with his gloves, slipping the bracelet over his wrist and with his index finger he taps on the blank screen, watching it turn on, activating.

“Five minutes.” He whispers to himself as he quickly types in Earth-42502, watching as a portal opens before him.

Adjusting his goggles, he takes a step forward only to freeze in place when another portal opens behind him. “The hell?” He looks over his shoulder, eyes widening under the goggles as a flash of red and blue zips towards him. He doesn’t have time to think as a hand wraps around his throat, knocking him back into the other earth.

The two are free falling through the air, grunting as his hand finds the others wrist and glares. He’s quick to use his strength, kicking him off as they continue to fall. “That was faster than usual.” He calls out, getting the other spiders attention who glared under his mask.

It didn’t take long for them to arrive to Earth-42502, portal opening onto the roof top of Oscorp Tower. Noir lands gracefully, but is quick to jump out of the way when the other spider lands where he once stood.

“Here I thought I’d never find you.”

Noir remembers that voice too well, remembering the days that the two would wake up next to each other.

“Seems like your desperate to find me.” Noir speaks up, taking cautious steps back as his eyes follow Miguels large figure. The man showed off his talons, taking dangerous steps forward as if stalking his prey.

“Let me guess, you were waiting until I activated this little guy, huh?” He raised his left arm to show off the bracelet he wore. The same bracelet that once belonged to Miguel and that he was able to snatch from during the time he was running away from Miguel. “Lyla’s not good at tracking.” He adds with a grin on his face.

“At least she found you before you can even open a portal to this earth. An earth that you don’t belong too.” Miguels voice is full of irritation, tired of having to chance Noir from different universes each time he disappeared off the radar.

“I know where I belong.”

Noirs voice drops down to a serious one, glaring under his own goggles as he takes steps back, slowly stepping on top of the ledge. “I’m not going back to that place, not after what you did.” He spits out.

“I was only trying to fix things.” Miguel sneers.

“By destroying a universe for our daughter? A daughter that wasn’t ours.”

“She was!”

“She belonged to another version of us and not us.” He points between himself and Miguel. The two have been chasing each other since day one, Miguels cannon affected him badly, causing him to lose his own child. Miguel had tried to find ways to fix it by going to other universe in hopes of getting their lives back together again only to mess things up badly and to cause a whole universe to be destroy. Their constant arguing grew worse as the days went on the two couldn’t be in a room together without trying to tear each other apart, leading to a divorce between the two. Well, a divorce wasn't really an option due to their universe being gone and instead was considered a break up between the two without having to sign he paper work.

In the public’s eye they were seen as married still. For them, they were separated.

Noir didn’t start stealing until after he stole Miguel’s bracelet, finding a way to stop Lyla from tracking him down and using it to escape from the man he loved. Giving himself a new life, stealing from every universe and only causing trouble for Miguel due to the constant anamolies being placed in the wrong universe, only giving the man extra work on getting it fixed.

You could say that it was Noirs way of showing revenge for all of the times Miguel blamed him for trying. Earning himself a reputation and treating it like a game.

“Y/n—“

“I don’t have time for you, right now.” Y/n hissed out, turning around and jumping off the building, getting Miguel to panic all of sudden and run after him, jumping off and diving down to wrap his arm around Y/n’s waist and using his talons to grip onto the side of the building also using his webs to hold on.

“What—?”

“I’m not letting you go that easy.” Said Miguel, grinning under his mask as Y/n’s eyes widen at the realization.”Don’t you dare!” Y/n uses his own claws in a threatening way only for Miguel to ignore his threatens, getting Lyla to open a portal back to their earth and quickly dropping his (ex) husband down the portal. Only for Y/n to land inside Miguels little anomaly prison as one of his traps is set around him, caging him inside a tight space as he tried to use his claws to claws his way through.

It wasn’t until Miguel drops down in front of him. The two could easily be face to face if it wasn’t for the barrier stopping them. “You’ll stay here until everything is fixed and then you can scream and yell all you want.” Said Miguel a hand on his own hip as his mask dissolves away, showing his real face to Y/n who frowned. “You can keep me here all you want, but I will always find a way out.” He was testing him.

This wouldn’t be the first time that he was trapped under Miguels watch, he’s escaped plenty of times before and he will do it again.

Miguel chuckled deeply. “Oh, mi amor. This time it’s different, because I’m going to make sure that I have a close eye on you twenty-four seven.” He looks over his shoulder to nod at one of the spiders from his society who turns around to type away on their computer. All of sudden Y/n is transformed to Miguels lab, appearing in the room in a flash as he yelps in surprise.

“Jesus…” He breaths out in surprise a hand over his beating heart as he falls back onto his bottom. “A heads up would have been nice.”

“Stop being annoying and be quiet.” Said Miguel, circling him like prey and focusing back on his work. Y/n grins, reaching up to push his goggles up and over his head. “Listen, cabeza de mierda. You brought me here in order to keep an eye on me, but never did you say that I couldn’t annoy you.”

“I—“

“So, I won’t stop talking your ass off until you let me go.”

Miguel stares down at his husband, knowing the man well enough to know that he was keeping that promise. The taller spider sighs in annoyance, already regretting his choice as Y/n grins at him and leans back against his elbows and crossing his leg over the other, lying down as he groans out loudly.

“Who would have thought, the two of us together again. After a year? Damn, it’s already been a year, I remember you slamming into a wall when chasing me through Earth-6574. God, the anger in your eyes was so satisfying!”

Miguel tried to focus on his work, ignoring the mans words as he continues on, rambling on about anything that will annoy Miguel until the man gives in.

The conversation went for hours, with Y/n changing positions every few minutes, one minute he’s lying down and the next he’s sitting. Another time he’s doing a handstand in the small space he’s trapped in or using his claws to try and penetrate the force field around him only to fail. He didn’t stop until he suddenly grew bored, lips sealed as Miguel finally takes in the peaceful silence, letting out a deep sigh of relief.

“There it is.”

Miguel snaps his head towards Y/n, already knowing his plan.

“Enjoyed your five seconds of peace and quiet? Because, I was just getting started.”

Miguel wants to shout, opening his mouth to throw back an insult only for him to be disturbed by the sound of people entering his lab, getting his attention. Y/n also looks over to the group of teens approaching them, one specific teen getting the thief’s attention as he narrows his eyes, focusing on the curly hair and dark skin until his eyes widen in realization.

“Miles?”

Even though he’s only known the kid for a year and had trained him on the side, he knew who the kid was under the mask, but never said anything. Not wanting to freak the kid out. Whenever the kid wasn’t hiding behind the mask, Y/n would keep a close eye on the kid, making sure that he was focusing on school and attending his family diners and parties, somehow feeling responsible for the kids disappearance each time he skipped classes or lunch only to meet up with enthusiasm, excited to learn something new from the thief that the teen befriend somehow.

It didn’t take long for the platform to lower, reaching the ground and getting the teens attention. Before Miles could introduce himself or hand Miguel the empanada that he had in hand. The kids eyes fall onto Y/n, narrowing his eyes a bit. “Noir?”

This gets everyone’s attention, including Miguel who snaps his head in Y/n’s direction with a knowing glare that he knew too well.

“Hey kiddo!” Noir waves at Miles with a wide grin on his face, side eyeing Miguel as he feels his burning glare. Miles doesn’t think twice to quickly rush over and jump onto the platform, worry in his eyes as he ignores Miguel’s surprised look along with Gwen’s panicked looked and Hobie’s grin. The teenager was too focused on Noir to care about what the others were thinking about his actions, his palms against the force field that separated the two as he tries to find a way to get him out. “Why are you here? How are you here?” Miles began to ask as Y/n looked at Miles with a fond look and faint smile.

“Easy kid, I’m alright.” He tries to reassure the kid.

“Get him out.” Miles blurts out, turning to Miguel with a frown on his face. The sudden demand shocks the others, but not Y/n who can only smirk over Miles shoulder and towards Miguel who frowned deeply. “I’d listen to the kid.” He whispers, loud enough for his ex to hear.

Miguel grunts in disapproval and had no choice but to do as told as gets red of the red field around him, finally setting him free as Y/n stands from his spot, stretching his arms in the air like a cat and getting caught by surprise when Miles hugs the other man. “Whoa! Easy kid, I’m alright.” He reassured him, giving his back a soft pat.

His actions don’t go unnoticed as Miguel watched the two interact with each other, clearly reading the signs that Y/n had claimed this kid as his own, treating him with care and respect, knowing that if he comes between the two, Y/n wouldn’t hesitate to fight back like a feral cat. It’s happened before and it won’t stop him from doing it again.

“You said you had to leave.” Miles speaks up, getting Y/n attention who sighs deeply. “About that…” He mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck nervously and giving Miles an awkward smile.

“Noir isn’t from your universe, he belongs in mine. He was caught breaking the rules and had no choice but to bring him here. He’s a slippery one and likes to get away, so letting him out of his cage wasn’t a good idea.” Said Miguel, getting an eye roll from Y/n and placing his hand on his hip. “Don’t be so dramatic, I’ve gotten away from it many times and you didn’t seem to mind.” Y/n said back, making his way around the platform and taking in Miguels work.

He takes notice of the videos and pictures of them both together along with this their daughter, causing a small sad sigh to escape his lips knowing that Miguel hasn’t gotten over the death of their daughter. Y/n was the only one who was able to move on from everything but Miguel, he couldn’t blame him. Everyone coped different with death and took their own pace in recovery. With a clawed finger he turns the pictures off, glancing over to Miguel who was watching him this whole time with a sorrowful look on his face.

Y/n quickly turns away, refusing to look at the man he once loved.

“Wait, you two know each other?” Gwen points between Y/n and Miguel, approaching the duo that stood before her, getting Y/n to smirk widely. “Actually were married.” He quotes out, getting a surprise look from both Gwen and Miles. “Divorced.” Miguel added, hands on his hips as Y/n pouts at his words.

“Divorced? Really, you two would look cool together.” Said Miles. “Adopt me?”

Y/n breaks out in laughter, throwing his head back as he laughs at Miles words. He jumps offer the platform and takes miles into his arms, pulling the kid close to him and squeezing him tight. “How did my ward become so adorable? If I could adopt you then I would!”

“Wait, your ward?” Miguel asks, clearly not likening this.

“Yep!”

“He’s taught me a thing or two.” Said Miles and with a proud smile on this face he extends his hand, opening his palm to show Noir the hard-drive that he stole from Miguel, getting a very proud Y/n to hug him again. “My child is learning!” He cheers in excitement while Miguel growls. “No, no, I refuse to let you take in a spider. You are enough trouble, let alone having a kid do it too?”

“If it wasn’t for me the kid wouldn’t have gotten better on his skills. I taught him how to defend himself and perhaps get away with a thing or two…” Even though Miles was suppose to be his universe hero and protector, he couldn’t help but, teach the kid a thing or two when it comes towards breaking and entering. Teaching Miles how to sneak back inside his room or dorm without being noticed and to pick on locks in case of emergencies.

Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose, mumbling to himself in disappointment. “No puedo mas, no puedo mas.”

Y/n rolled his eyes. “So dramatic.” He mumbled as he listens to Miguel ramble on while Miles is being saluted by Hobie, admiring the kids new skills form a very well known thief in many universes.

“Did you know that he stole this guitar for me?” Said Hobie, pointing over his shoulder where his guitar was strapped over his shoulder. “Mad genius.”

Miles laughs. “I don’t like stealing, but Noir once helped me with getting my mom a present for Mother’s Day. He stole a necklace for me, nothing too expensive but also nice.” Said the teen. Clearly he was nervous and ashamed for it when he first got handed the jewel from the known thief only for the anxiety and worry to fade away when he say how happy his mother was about the gift.

His father questioned him and all Miles told his dad was that he worked hard for it.

Noir smiles at the two before looking over to Miguel who stared with disappointment, but Y/n didn’t seem to care one bit wanting the teen to enjoy his life and he wouldn't mind breaking a few rules in order to give the kid what he wanted. Even if it meant bumping into his husband ever once an awhile.

[ciaossu-imagines]

Hook Spider Shot Headcanons

He wasn’t really popular in high school, but he had a decent, though small, group of true friends. Because of this, he’s really come to believe that it’s not how many friends you have in life, but the quality of your friends. While he definitely wants to become popular, he’s going to be happy as long as he has one true, steady friends.

He still looks up to Senya somewhat and Senya acts as Shot’s confidante and mentor a lot of the times.

He thinks dreadlocks really cool. One of his neighbours when he was a kid had them and, to him, this neighbour was the coolest guy ever, though a lot of the adults in the neighbourhood thought the guy was a thug and kind of ostracized him. Still, the guy was nice to Shot and Shot started trying to emulate him. Him growing out his hair and sporting locks started in high school as a way to really show his respect to the man, who moved away around this time.

He’s actually got a good relationship with his family and calls his mother at least once a week to catch up.

He likes to think he’s a feminist.

He has a little bit of short man syndrome and wears his cowboy boots because they have a little bit of a heel. He also makes sure his posture is pretty good, because it gives him the aura of more height.

He actually really likes yoga as exercise, along with tai chi. He finds both forms of exercise relax him.

He’s terrible at video games and gets frustrated by them quickly for the most part. However, he really likes hearing Draluc talk about them and reads his articles.

He buys The Ronaldo Chronicles and displays them on his bookshelf to support Ronaldo.

He only likes strawberries when they’re used in dessert. He doesn’t like just eating them by themselves.

He definitely has just eaten dessert for breakfast, lunch, and supper on really stressful days, just to make his day better and happier.

He’d make his own White Day chocolate.

He’s more popular, as a hunter, among men rather than women.

He has a pet tarantula named Ziggy Stardust.

And yes, that means he’s a fan of David Bowie.

He prefers shorter partners.

He’s kind of messy at home and doesn’t really clean a lot. He only gets serious about cleaning if he is going to be having someone over, especially when his parents are coming to town.

He’ll be really slow at bringing a partner home to meet his family. It’s not because he doesn’t love his partner or because he isn’t proud of them. It’s because he thinks his family is crazy and is worried they’ll scare away his partner.

[princesscure]

Josh Washington ☆ Headcanons :3

contains: mentions of death, substance abuse and misuse, feet, the beatles jerking off, um..

hallo!! this is my first ever actual post on Tumblr but i figure since there's not a lot of josh stuff (that I can see) I figured to contribute despite my lack of experience on doing this, so i hope this isn't completely buns!! (⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠) pls enjoy!!

-> im sorry but he SO listens to billy joel.

-> is the human equivalent of a heater except for the fact he has to wear 4+ socks because his feet get IRRATIONALLY cold, but then he literally uses that to torment every person by putting his freezing cold dogs on 'em!!

-> him and the twins would throw the most abhorrent pranks on each other, like it started from fake spider toys placed somewhere as little kids to literally staging an entire fake murder to prank eachother

-> which also ties into josh's psycho prank on the others being a way to cope and another part of his revenge, playing a prank hannah and beth would've loved if they were still alive.

-> he's like a fucking wikipedia when it comes to the most obscure shit, and it literally ranges from how a film was shot, to the Beatles jacking off in front of each other, or the absurd history of a game they're all playing. like he just knows the most random shit and will just casually drop it like it's the most casual thing to know

-> loves creeping up behind people and going "boo!" like tell me he wouldn't

-> the type of person to be skeptical about ghosts but believe aliens without a doubt

-> he smokes weed. this isn't a headcanon it's actually completely canon in the game(s) I swear guys!!!

-> when he was still taking his medication he would drink more and more with his mental health deteriorating, until he stopped taking his meds, which ultimately saved him because at the rate he was going he would've genuinely died from the alcohol and pills mixing.

-> was absolutely hooked on five nights at freddys when it came out but didn't tell a damn soul except for the twins.

-> has overwhelming guilt over the twins missing, replays the night over and over in his mind before he passed out. but since he drank so much, he only remembers bits and pieces, which makes him loathe himself more for not doing more.

-> one of the times the group was partying (before the incident) josh had gotten so drunk he deadass stumbled into the lit fireplace for a second without realizing it until he looked down at the sudden warmth and drunkenly stumbled away and the group NEVER let him live it down since.

[imagine-lcorp]

Having Arachnid Powers and Dating Lena Luthor Would Include...

Request

@sandwichitodemilanesa could you please write what would include dating lena, being a kind of spider woman? probably have gotten your power because of Lena's dad or brother experiments to make a superhuman but now you're trying to be a super friend and save the world . thanks  you so much <3

A/N: Hello y'all, sorry for being MIA, honestly adulthood is kinda sucking my soul, but as I've said before I'm still around. This time doing this little piece that was such fun honestly, also I love sandiwichitos de milanesa so I just couldn't ignore it. Thank you so much for the request and I hope you enjoy it! <3

Lena Luthor x Superhero Fem!R/Arachnid Powers/Word Count: 1,388

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

Your story starting the first time Lena ever saw you, you were on the news, stopping a bank robbery.

You were using nothing but a black hoodie, grey pants, a ski mask, and a pair of worn out shoes, and had disappeared before Supergirl could arrive.

The cameras spotted you swinging your way out through the building of National City, using what at first she imagined were hook-shots.

Like the rest of the city, she started seeing you more often on the news with growing curiosity as you helped all citizens.

The news outlets trying to come up with names for you; "The Human Spider", "The Web Slinger", "The Wall Crawler", "Arachnid Woman".

Your first close encounter with Lena was during a supervillian attack on L-Corp. The top floors were crumbling while Supergirl was fighting and you appeared, saving all the people from the falling debris, including her.

You carried her in your arms as you used your webs to pull you down to the ground, keeping her safe but leaving before she could say anything.

She and the whole DEO searching for you after that, wanting to know who you were and where you came from.

Lena investigating you but coming to dead ends, trying to understand you and your powers from what she sees in the news and DEO reports.

Losing hope after many months only for you to swing to her office balcony one night as she looked down the city.

"I believe you and your friends have been looking for me."

"Mostly me, but yes."

"What for?"

"I wanted to thank you, for saving my life."

Distrusting Lena initially due to personal reasons and avoiding further contact but slowly getting used to her as you came to her aid several more times.

"We should stop meeting in life threatening situations, Miss Luthor."

"We certainly should, and I still don't know your name."

"I guess you can call me (Y/N), for now."

Warming up to her and even visiting her a few times at her office. Always reaching her floor by crawling on the side of her building or swinging with your webs to avoid being spotted.

You always work this late, Miss Luthor?

I could ask the same.

You know what they say, crime never sleeps.

Lena noticing more and more of how your powers work, even making you a suit to help you out, leaving it on her balcony with a little note after leaving early from work one day.

Smiling at the gesture and the news making noise about your new look the next day, giving you new superhero names and such.

Going to her office more often and starting to enjoy your small conversations with her and the balcony kind of becoming your meeting place.

Finally building enough trust to tell her who you were and explain how you got your powers.

Telling her you had been very sick, almost too far gone a few years back, when her brother offered you some sort of experimental treatment for your illness. You accepted and Lex brought you to Luthorcorp.

Little did you know, her brother had been running illegal and dangerous human experiments in there.

You had woken up in a cryosleep chamber years later in a secret facility, as you had been the only survivor of his experiments and the only one who seemed to assimilate your new given powers correctly.

"I had nothing and nowhere to go but I didn't want to use my powers to take advantage of people."

Lena offering you a place to stay and helping you go back on track with your life.

Supergirl and Alex also offering you a place in the DEO but refusing as places like that bring you bad memories but offering your help back in case they need it.

Having a bit of trouble adapting your new life with the superhero gig going on but Lena helping you as best as she can with everything you need.

"What if I say I need a million dollars?"

Lena discovering your funny dorky side.

Your relationship with Lena growing over time as she helps you settle as the newest heroine of National City.

Lena helping you design your supersuit and inventing new devices for you.

"I think I need to come up with a superhero name. People are starting to call me 'The Tarantula' and 'Black Widow'."

"Mmh, maybe you would like something more classic?"

"Like what?"

"How about… 'Arachne'?"

Her choosing your new name and going along with it.

Visiting her regularly when the city seems calmer and conversing for hours in her balcony.

Developing a soft spot for her and finally inviting her to move with you through the city.

"You know I have a driver and a car, right?"

"Swinging is faster, you can avoid a lot of traffic."

Lena actually enjoying the rides with you, although only the short ones.

Lena introducing you to the Superfriends.

"So, spider powers, uh? What's that exactly? Extra eyes? Extra legs? Can you stick to any surface?"

"No extra limbs as far as I'm aware…and I suppose I can stick to anything, uh, so far?"

"Cool. And the web, does it come from-?"

"Alex, stop."

"I'm just asking. What? As if you aren't curious too."

Lena helping you train and taking the chance to analyze and help you with your own powers.

She realizing she worries about you the more you get involved in fights to protect National City, particularly when Kara isn't in town.

She being the one to patch you up at your place when you don't want to stay at the DEO.

"You should see the other guy. The other guy, in this instance, being a killer croc."

Lena visiting your place and spending more time with you outside her office and the DEO.

Putting more attention to her and her safety when a fight or battle breaks lose.

Realizing after many of those you like her more than you think and going to her balcony one night to confess your feelings.

Lena admitting the same and being happy about it as you ask her to go on a date with you.

Spending your first date with Lena watching the sunset from the highest place of the city after a rooftop picnic.

Lena making sure to leave L-Corp early to spend more time with you.

Helping each other when there are criminals on the loose and being very protective of Lena if there's any after her.

Upside down kisses.

Taking her to dates by swinging around the city and her offering her limousine from time to time as a way to spoil you.

Making it official and the Superfriends being really supportive and happy for you.

Being awkward and nerdy around each other.

Very interesting moments in bed.

Grabbing food or coffee for her any chance you can so you can visit her at her office.

Dates on her office balcony also becoming a regular thing.

Sticking upside down out of her window and knocking at it at the end of her office hours to take her home.

Enjoying swinging around the city just to keep her clinging to you.

"You better hold on tight, spider-monkey."

"Is that a Twilight reference? I shouldn't have let Kara convince us to watch those."

Lots of game nights with the Superfriends and always teaming up with Lena.

Lena being your unofficial handler and she always being on your side whatever happens on your fights and missions.

You always supporting Lena and her ideas, but knowing when to call her out when things feel out of hand.

She doing the same with you, particularly when you feel responsible for everyone.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N), sometimes the hardest thing about this is you can't always save everybody."

Hugs so tight and long they feel like home.

Leaving Lena huge messages around different spaces of the city written with your web. Mostly hearts with her initial in the middle.

Being really close and intimate on your alone moments.

Always coming to aid the Superfriends when they need you or teaming up with Alex and the DEO.

Lena spoiling you with new gadgets and even making you a new suit with nano-tech.

"Like Kara's, but way cooler."

"Oh yes, but don't let her hear you say that."

[melancholymetropolis]

"Say it," Miguel O'Hara growled into my ear. "Say what I want to hear."

His larger hand gently squeezed the sides of my neck, enough to make my mouth fall open and to have me panting like a bitch in heat. My nails dug deep crescent shapes onto his forearm to steady myself. My other hand was planted flat against the control panel, right next to his. My knee was propped up onto the flat surface with my back arched against his torso. 

His hot body was colliding against mine at a rapid pace. The long girthy member tore through me quicker than the speed of light and I couldn’t think straight.

"F-F-Fuck y-you," I stammered, quivering beneath him.

A deep chuckle resonated through the massive man. "You shouldn't have said that, Y/N."

Miguel quickly spun me around to face him. He planted my ass into the edge of the control panel and hiked my legs up onto his waist. His spider suit was still partially covering his body. The top was hiked up over his lower abs, while his pants were just low enough to free his cock.

Mr. O'Hara shoved the member right back into my sopping cunt. Earning a gasp out of me. One of his hands gripped the edge of the flat surface, while the other found a new position. His right hand hooked around my back and took hold of my braids from the root. He cocked my head back at a near-painful angle, exposing my jugular. 

Miguel started to ram the member into me, faster than before. My whole body jolted and spasmed from the sheer force of the thrusts. Tears pricked the corner of my eyes as hot pants fell from my mouth.

"Oh God yes!" I said, drool spilling from my lips. "Just like that!"

The new position had placed the beautiful rod of pleasure directly against my G-spot. The massive member was annihilating the spongy area every chance it got. My pussy oozed in response. It fluttered and tightened around the brooding man, earning a groan from him.

A curse fell from his lips as his thrusts became a little sloppy. Miguel was reaching his peak. It was only right after he fucked me for almost an hour straight. So much for a quickie.

The massive man slammed his hand against the flat surface and placed a searing kiss on my lips. He loosened the grip on my hair and wrapped an arm around my waist. I hooked my arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. Our sweaty chests were pressed together as our thighs trembled. 

Suddenly, I turned my head away from his lips, offering my neck to his. The climax was inching closer and closer by the second. My nails dug into his back, clawing the elastic fabric of his suit. His sharp teeth grazed my neck in response, causing me to shudder underneath me. 

I wanted him to bite me. To drain me while he filled me with his seed. 

But he never did.

Coward.

The climax hit my body like a wrecking ball. My entire being tensed. My trembling thighs came to a staggering halt. My nails deeper into his shoulder blades as my heels sunk into his plump ass. I had squeezed my eyelids shut and kept my mouth wide open. My face was pointing to the ceiling, I could feel the cool light gracing my eyelids. Miguel’s thrusts never stopped. He kept the dangerous pace as I clung to his body for dear life. After about five tremendous seconds, I felt like I could finally breathe.

“I’m cumming,” I gasped in one big breath. “Oh my god, I’m cumming.”

I lifted my head up and pressed it against Miguel’s shoulder. I hooked my arms firmly around his torso, wanting to be close to him. My heartbeat was hammering against his cool chest. My heavy breath fanned his ear. The man shuddered in response. His hips, also, came to an abrupt halt. His entire being tensed. Miguel’s breath hitched as warm, thick cum shot out of him. It filled my empty womb entirely. I groaned at the lustful sensation and pressed soft kisses on his neck.

His strong arms circled my plus body and held me closer than he ever had, My heart leaped from such tenderness, but I quickly shot it down. I wouldn’t get my hopes up. I knew better when it came to Miguel. Without meaning to, he always found a way to disappoint me.

“No,” I said, finally. “I will not join your spider society.”

“Oh,” he replied in shock. “That’s not what I was expecting.”  He lifted my face from his should and took my chin between his fingers. “I must admit, I’m a little disappointed, Y/N.”

“Well,” I pulled away, hopping off the ledge. “Join the club.”

‐-------------------------

I know I lie more then sza but ya girl being settling into a new job.

Imma be posting soon. I promise.

[greenparker]

hello! i’m really enjoying your writing so far and would like to request a lil something with tasm!peter x fem!reader where reader like dresses up as spiderman for halloween? 🙈 thank you sm! <3

A/N: Thank you for requesting, its a really cute idea so I hope you think I did it justice. Wasnt sure about what to write for the plot lol, so its short. Pairing: Tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆

Y/N loved Halloween; it was her favorite time of year. The crisp, cool weather, the spooky movies, and the thrill of dressing up always put her in the best mood. This year, she'd outdone herself by dressing up as Spider-Man, complete with web-shooters (which she had sneakily "borrowed" from Peter’s stash).

The city buzzed with energy, its streets transformed by the holiday. Skyscrapers loomed under a faintly cloudy sky, while jack-o'-lanterns flickered on brownstone steps and fake cobwebs clung to iron railings. Costumed children and adults hurried down the sidewalks, their laughter and chatter mixing with honking taxis and the distant wail of a siren. The wind swirled, sending leaves spiraling through the air and tugging at the capes, witch hats, and masks of passersby.

As she made her way to meet Peter, she couldn’t wait to see his reaction to her costume. The minute he spotted her, his eyes widened, and a slow grin spread across his face.

"Wow, you really committed to the whole ‘friendly neighborhood hero’ thing," he said, clearly amused. "I think you might wear it better than the original."

Y/N laughed, striking a mock heroic pose. "Don’t be jealous, Parker. Not everyone can pull off spandex like this."

Peter rubbed the back of his neck, trying to play it cool. "Yeah, well... maybe I’ll just stick to normal clothes for tonight."

"Aw, and here I thought you’d show up as my arch-nemesis or something." She teased, pretending to shoot webbing at him. He chuckled, watching her with that familiar, soft look in his eyes, the one that always made her heart skip a beat.

Peter stepped closer, lightly tugging at the edge of her mask where it had slipped slightly. "You’ve got to be careful, Spider-Woman," he teased, his voice low, eyes locking on hers for a brief moment. "You can’t let your identity slip."

Y/N felt a sudden warmth creeping up her neck. "Guess I’ll need my friendly neighborhood Peter to watch out for me, huh?"

He smirked, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "I’m always watching out for you."

The playful tension between them was undeniable. She nudged him with her elbow, grinning. "Does that mean you’ll be swinging in to save me if I get in trouble?"

Peter laughed, the sound light and soft. "Depends. If it involves spiders, I might need to reconsider."

She rolled her eyes, tugging at the sleeve of his jacket. "C’mon, I know you’re secretly a superhero in disguise."

Peter’s smile faltered for just a second, and Y/N caught it, her brow furrowing slightly. Before she could question it, he shot back with a grin. "Well, if you’re Spider-Woman tonight, maybe I’ll be your loyal sidekick."

Y/N placed her hands on her hips, tilting her head with a smirk. "Loyal sidekick? Oh no, no, no. You’ve got it all backwards, Parker. You’re the sidekick in this dynamic."

Peter raised an eyebrow, his grin never faltering. He was completely hooked on her, and it showed in every glance. Y/N crossed her arms, feigning serious authority. "You’re my guy in the chair!" she declared, amused with her own joke.

Peter laughed, the sound warm and familiar. "Oh, is that how it is now?" he asked, stepping closer until his face was just inches from hers. His fingers brushed lightly against hers before he took her hand, the gesture gentle but charged with electricity.

“Guess we’ll have to settle that later,” he said, his voice low and teasing. Y/N felt her cheeks warm as he leaned in closer, her breath catching in her throat while her heart picked up speed. She couldn’t help but smile back, wishing he’d close the gap even more. Her eyes flicked down to his soft lips, hoping for just a second longer—until he pulled away with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“But for now,” he added, clearly amused, “how about we go save the city from a terrible lack of candy?”

For a moment, everything around them seemed to slow down—the cool breeze, the distant laughter from trick-or-treaters, the hum of the city—none of it mattered. It was just him and her, standing there, his gaze holding hers like they were in their own little bubble in the chaos of New York.

“Lead the way, sidekick,” she teased, her grin growing as they started walking together. “Just don’t slow me down, alright?” ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆ Thanks for reading! I would love to do more requests if anyones wants :)

[olivialau]

Shadow's Embrace Ch.33

Sukuna x Reader

Notes:

This story unfolds in the Jujutsu Kaisen world, set in a slightly altered universe where Sukuna inhabits his own vessel distinct from Itadori Yuji's body, making him a separate entity.

Summary:

Ryomen Sukuna, the King of Curses, becomes fascinated with a female sorcerer rich in potential but lacking control. Initially seizing her for his destructive plans, Sukuna aims to bind her abilities through a contract. Yet, as he tries to dominate her, he finds himself intrigued by her strength and determination. Over time, his interest evolves from strategic advantage to a deeper, personal connection.

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

CHAPTER 33 - Whispers and Whistles

“We need to discuss something, girl.”

Instinctively, your feet shuffled back, and your hands shot up between you in a rather unconvincing attempt to claim your space.

Your racing pulse betrayed you, oh so easily, in the subtle quiver of your fingertips: a scared animal, trying to bluff its way out.

Despite your earlier—and clearly misguided—assumption that he was the most, how would you put it... agreeable of Sukuna’s accomplices, Kenjaku's polite mask was fracturing before your eyes.

For the first time, his face truly matched the dangerous aura you’d always sensed beneath the facade.

When his gaze caught your trembling hands, his lips curled higher. His eyebrows smoothed, eyes widening just enough to let the menace bleed through. Those empty, dark pupils locked onto yours with piercing focus, leaving no room for misinterpretation: he wasn’t backing down.

He took a step forward, bumping his body into your outstretched palms, completely unbothered by your poor attempt to protect your space.

Cocky bastard.

Before you knew it, you’d jumped back. A big leap to get as far away from him as possible in a single motion.

Kenjaku laughed it off, closing the gap straight away, mirroring each of your steps until your back met the unyielding brick wall of the apartment complex.

With his robes practically smothering your face, you were desperate to gain even an inch of extra space. So, you let your backpack slip from your shoulders, pressing yourself against—no, into—the surface behind you.

Despite Sukuna's assurance that Kenjaku wouldn't dare harm you, his shift in demeanor—and, his pale hand now reaching for your chin—told a different story.

“Just take a step back, and I'll talk with you, okay?” Your voice wavered in a last-ditch effort to defuse the situation.

As expected, his feet stayed firmly in place. His thumb and index finger pinched your jaw, fingers tightening as he dragged your head from side to side, studying you like a specimen under glass.

From this close, you could see every gruesome detail of the crude stitches crisscrossing his forehead. It was disgusting, and you hated that you couldn't look away, trapped by his grip, forced to endure the silent inspection.

His thumb drifted to your lower lip, pulling it down before the pad of his finger ran over the tender flesh inside. For a second, when he leaned in even closer, the disturbing thought of him putting his filthy lips on yours seemed to become less of a creepy notion and more of an inescapable reality.

Your hand twitched toward the knife in your boot, mind already calculating the exact angle and force needed to drive it into his side if he dared to cross that line.

But just then, he shifted his focus away from your lips. His fingers drifted lower, hooking around the edge of your collar, tugging lightly as he tilted his head, eyes drifting over the curve of your neck.

A black strand of hair fell across his face as he examined your neck up close. It brushed your skin, and the tickle made you tense up. It was the revolting kind of tickle. The kind you feel when a spider creeps up your leg, the kind that makes your skin crawl and your stomach churn.

You could feel his eyes traveling down your cleavage before his pupils darted up to meet yours for just a second, a knowing chuckle spilling from his lips.

The audacity.

It quickly snapped you from fear to fury.... Your hands found his shoulders, ready to shove him away. But before you could, Kenjaku stepped back of his own accord.

There was an instantaneous change in his demeanor, as if a switch had flipped. His eyes narrowed to polite crescents and that unsettling grin morphed into a courteous smile that somehow managed to be even more disturbing.

What the hell had just happened?

“Just as I thought,” he murmured, as another chuckle escaped him. Your heart was still hammering in your chest, but you forced yourself to steady.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you demanded.

Kenjaku's gaze flicked to your neck with subtle implication. Confused, you followed his line of sight. Your collar was still wrinkled, jutting forward slightly, and as you peered down to fix it, Kenjaku's thorough inspection suddenly made a lot more sense.

The scratches, the red marks...

Though his mask of civility remained firmly in place, it couldn’t entirely conceal the glint of sick amusement woven through his words.

“So,” he drawled, “you and Sukuna are involved in that way, hmm?”

He reached out a hand toward your shoulder, but you swatted it away with a sharp flick. A wounded expression crossed his face as he pulled back, softly brushing over the red sting—drama queen—before letting out a deep sigh.

“Girl, you do realize Sukuna is just using you, don’t you? I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I wouldn’t want to see a young thing like you get hurt.”

His worry was so blatantly fake it almost made you laugh. Kenjaku didn’t care about your well-being any more than Sukuna cared about subtlety when he'd ravaged your skin.

You met his gaze, steady now, your confidence slowly returning.

“Thanks for the advice, Frankenstein—” The freshly improvised nickname slid off your tongue with biting sarcasm.

“—but I think I’ll be just fine. So, if that’s all...”

You crouched to grab your backpack, slinging it over your shoulder, but from the corner of your eye, you saw Kenjaku's expression flicker—a tiny twitch, yet enough to make you pause.

Oh.

It seemed Kenjaku didn't take kindly to being called names.

Your fingers tightened around the straps, and you braced yourself, wondering if your little jab would cost you dearly now.

But his mask effortlessly slid back into place—another fake smile.

He was good at this.

“You’ve got spirit,” he murmured through gritted teeth—the only way he could suppress his mounting irritation with a certain impudent brat.

“I can see why Sukuna likes to play with you.”

You rolled your eyes and were about to walk away when his next words made you pause.

“But that’s all you are to him; a toy. That’s all you’ll ever be.”

A toy...

As much as you wanted them not to, his words got to you. You couldn’t help it—you couldn’t help but wince at the sharp pang that struck your heart...

Kenjaku let his gaze drift to some distant point, his hands curling into loose fists to still the twitching of his fingers.

“When you break, or when he tires of you, he’ll dispose of you. You know that, don’t you?”

You hissed through gritted teeth, crossing your arms to shield yourself from the truth in his words.

The idea of being used, of all the warnings you'd so stubbornly ignored being proven right—that was the one fear you dreaded to acknowledge.

And hearing it said aloud made it so much harder to deny, leaving you with nothing but fragile, circumstantial proof that Sukuna wasn't the monster that everyone claimed he was.

Maybe you really were just a foolish girl lost in her own delusions... But even then, you didn’t intend to just admit that to this freak.

“Why does it matter to you?” you snapped, shifting your weight onto your right leg and cocking your hip in a weak attempt at nonchalance to hide your hurt.

But luck had it that Kenjaku didn’t even bother to look at you. His sandal scuffed against the tiles, grinding tiny rocks into dust—the sound gnawing at your already tight-wound nerves—before he finally answered you.

“What does it matter to me...?”

He let out a sigh. “If you’re dead—if Sukuna loses interest and cuts you up into little pieces... well, that sets us back in our plans.”

His pupils slid to the side, narrowing in on your neck with a certain disgust.

“The more he indulges his toys, the sooner they’ll bore him,” he continued, his disgust morphing into mock pity. “Nothing more than a ragged, used puppet.”

His fingers traced the scar running through his temple, and his lips twisted into a smirk.

“Now, I’ve got a knack for using broken puppets,” he added with a soft, unsettling laugh. You didn’t even want to imagine what that meant, and you couldn’t, for Kenjaku didn’t give you any time to dwell on it, continuing his lecture without pause.

“Sukuna, however? He barely tolerates new, shiny puppets. Let alone used ones.”

Kenjaku straightened his robes, the sharp sound of fabric snapping against itself breaking the tension as he turned to depart.

“I’d like to keep you around for a little while. So I’d advise you to take a step back. Don’t let him use you like some cheap—”

He paused mid-sentence, turning his head to glance over his shoulder—a taunting grin on his face as he let his mask fall away one last time.

“You know what I mean, don’t you?”

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

The entire way to Jujutsu High, your emotions swung between seething rage at that sanctimonious, insufferable monk—and the nauseating anxiety his words had left behind.

The latter doubled by the dreadful anticipation of having to explain your sudden disappearance to everyone at the school. God. You could only hope they'd forgive you for ignoring all their calls and texts.

At least Gojo had forgiven you—though you weren’t naive. You knew his interest wasn’t just about you. It was as much about your entanglement with the deadliest being in existence—and, most inconveniently, also the object of your desire: Sukuna.

You stopped just in front of the school gates, drawing in a deep breath of courage.

Despite your unsettling run-in with Kenjaku, you'd somehow managed to arrive early—a small mercy, considering you still hadn't figured out how to explain your apparent resurrection to your classmates. Ideally, you wanted to do it in a way that wouldn’t completely throw everyone off—but how?

With your head lowered, you slipped into the building, trying to blend into the background. You passed by countless unfamiliar faces, each one seeming to scrutinize you. Maybe it was just paranoia, but it felt like everyone knew. Like Sukuna’s scent was all over you, and they could smell it.

A flash of white caught your attention as you passed the teachers' lounge—Gojo's spiky hair jutting up over the back of a leather couch. You paused, fingers curling around the strap of your bag, considering whether Gojo might be able to offer some advice on handling your unexpected comeback without causing a major scene.

In retrospect, asking Gojo Satoru for counseling on subtlety was probably the dumbest thing you could ever have done.

Which was precisely how you found yourself crammed into the classroom's supply closet, surrounded by towers of dusty files and the sharp, chalky smell of accumulated academia. The musty air tickled your nose as you tried not to sneeze.

All because Gojo thought it would be hilarious to turn your return into 'his best prank to date'.

Before long, you could hear the shuffle of feet and the scrape of chairs as your classmates filed in, completely oblivious to your current... predicament.

Right on the other side of the flimsy wooden door of the closet, you heard the heavy thud of a backpack hitting the floor. Yuji, most likely—he always sat in that same seat in the back.

“Oi, Megumi, you seen Gojo-sensei today?”

His voice carried through the thin wood, lighthearted but tinged with some concern.

“He’s acting stranger than usual.”

Megumi’s response from the desk to his side was as immediate as it was flat. “I don’t question anything that man does anymore.”

There was a brief pause, as if he were quietly processing something, before he added, “But yeah… he’s been acting weird. Keeps snickering to himself like a lunatic.”

From the desk in front of them, Nobara—the queen of gossip—swiveled around in her seat and chimed in.

“Oh my god, yes! I caught him having a full-on conversation with that closet in the back earlier. Like, dramatic hand gestures and everything. I swear he's finally cracked.”

Yuji snorted, barely containing his laughter.

“No way.”

Before they could spiral into further speculations, Gojo’s obnoxiously loud voice rang out, cutting through the conversation and officially kicking off the class.

“Alright, kiddos!” He sang out, way too cheerful, even for him—seriously, could he be any more obvious about being up to something?

“Today’s class is gonna be legendary. Prepare to be amazed, awestruck, and have your jaws hit the floor!”

Nobara groaned, slumping over her desk with a suffering sigh.

“That’s what you said last time, and then you spent an hour showing off your stupid Pokémon cards.”

The gasp of horror that followed was so extravagant, you could hear it all the way from the front of the class.

Yeah, that's how dramatic it was.

“They were Digimon cards, you uncultured soul! DI-GI-MON!”

You could hear his footsteps next, the soft tap of his shoes growing louder as he moved toward Yuji’s desk.

“Yuji, my favorite student who actually knows the difference between Pokémon and Digimon...”

You just knew Megumi rolled his eyes at that.

“Could you be a dear and grab me… uh, a cursed tool from the supply closet over there?”

A chill ran down your spine, and your breath hitched. Oh no.

You pressed your ear to the door, nerves tightening as every possible outcome flashed through your mind. Would they hate you? Yell at you? Storm out? Or worse—would they ignore you, just like you had them?

Your thoughts snapped back to the present when Yuji, on the other side, started to question if Gojo had really lost it.

“Uh… you sure there’s cursed tools in there?”

“That’s what I said,” Gojo chirped, his voice dripping with glee that was now borderline frightening.

After an uncomfortable silence, you heard Yuji hesitantly push his chair back and stand up. “Okay, if you say so…”

His cursed energy drew closer, and though you could feel it, the sound his footsteps barely registered—drowned out by the rush of blood in your ears, thumping to the rhythm of your anxious heart.

You were definitely going to kill Gojo after this.

The wood rattled as Yuji’s hand landed on the handle of the sliding door, and with a protesting creak, he pulled it open, flooding your hideout with light.

You blinked up at him, frozen—like a deer caught in headlights.

And Yuji blinked back, his expression cycling through confusion, disbelief, and dawning recognition faster than a slot machine. “...Huh?”

Then, the class fell silent.

“Hey, guys...” you managed, stepping out of the closet with an awkward shuffle, brushing the dust from your uniform as you did.

Megumi, who had been determinedly ignoring the whole situation, snapped his attention over. His eyes widened fractionally—which, for him, meant he was more than a little surprised.

“You've got to be kidding me,” he muttered, though the relief in his voice betrayed him.

Nobara's shriek of delight shattered any remaining tension as she launched herself at you, nearly taking you down.

“Finally! Finally, I'm not stuck alone with these loser idiots anymore. They have zero gossip, no sense of fashion, or hygiene for that matter. It’s been torture, seriously. You have no idea!”

Yuji's indignant “Hey!” barely registered before he wrapped both you and Nobara in a bear hug that threatened to crack ribs. His voice softened, warm breath stirring your hair as he spoke.

“We were really worried, you know? I must've called a hundred times, checked every restaurant, café, and park in town—Megumi too...”

Megumi's cheeks flushed as he glanced away, suddenly finding the window incredibly fascinating. And the tension that had been suffocating you finally loosened as you allowed yourself to relax into the impromptu group hug.

Gojo's triumphant “Ta-da!” was completely unnecessary at this point, but when did that ever stop him? He spread his arms wide, beaming. “Didn't I promise today's class would be spectacular?”

Nobara wriggled free from Yuji’s embrace, and as soon as he let go, her gaze sharpened, and she raised a brow at you.

“So Gojo-sensei convinced you to hide in this nasty closet?”

“More like coerced," you muttered defensively, crossing your arms.

Gojo gasped, “Coerced? Me? I merely provided some gentle encouragement!”

“Gentle encouragement?” Megumi's voice dripped with skepticism as he mirrored your crossed arms, eyes narrowing at his teacher. “And what exactly did that entail?”

Gojo's blindfold shifted ever so slightly, a glint of mischief hiding behind it as his grin widened.

“Oh, you know, just mentioned that if she didn't play along, I might accidentally let slip something about her situation with Su—”

Your hand shot out with the speed of a striking snake, clamping over his mouth mid-word as you mouthed a,“Don’t. You. Dare,” in his direction.

Nobara's eyes lit up, and her grin turned positively feral. “Oh? Oh. This is going to be good.” She leaned forward, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Spill it, sensei.”

“Nope. Not happening.” You fixed Gojo with a glare that could have melted steel, your hand still firmly pressed against his mouth. “Right, sensei?”

If he valued his life, he'd keep his mouth shut about a certain crimson-eyed complication in your life.

Gojo nodded, peeling your hand from his mouth.

“Sorry kiddo, my lips are sealed.”

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

The rest of the day passed in moderate normalcy—well, as normal as things could be at Jujutsu High—and, apart from the constant bombardment of questions about where you'd disappeared to, why you couldn't reply, and why you had such a knack for vanishing in the first place.

All that practice in lying these past weeks suddenly seemed lost on you as you wove together one pathetic excuse after another. You couldn't fathom how they still tolerated you.

The afternoon's training session was particularly brutal—though you couldn't shake the suspicion that your friends had coordinated their attacks as subtle punishment for your radio silence. By the time you finished washing up and preparing to leave, your muscles ached with a strain that felt more like penance than practice.

And the thought of returning home—to him—added an equally painful strain on top of it.

Your tired goodbye in the corridor was interrupted by Nobara's firm grip on your arm. “Listen here, missy. You better show up tomorrow, or I swear we'll kidnap you back to the dorms ourselves.” Her words were stern, but her eyes soft.

“24/7 surveillance. Don't test me.”

Yuji punctuated her threat with a quick flick to your forehead. “Yeah, you idiot.”

Even Megumi contributed a curt nod and his signature “Hmph”—which, felt like a paragraph of worried lectures compressed into a single sound.

You bowed slightly before offering a salute, forcing lightness into your voice.

“Yes sir, yes ma'am!”

As you zipped up your coat and turned to leave, waving one final time with a genuine smile on your face, the normalcy of the moment felt comforting and light.

The crisp afternoon air hit your face as you stepped outside, and for a moment, you reveled in that strange weightlessness that came with pretending everything was fine.

Yet there was that familiar pull too—that inexplicable gravity drawing you back to the tension, the danger, and the intoxicating feeling of Sukuna's cursed energy, draping over you like a blanket. The pull usually grew heavier the farther you walked from the school premises.

But this time, when you reached the gates, you realized you still felt unusually light—so light, in fact, that something felt off... and a quick pat-down of your chest confirmed your suspicions: you'd forgotten your backpack, with your phone inside.

If you lost your phone now and were forced to ghost your friends all over again, you weren't sure if they'd forgive you so easily.

Your shoes squeaked against the polished floors as you hurried back inside. But just before rounding the corner to retrieve your bag, Nobara's voice, pitched high with frustration, stopped you cold.

“Okay, but seriously—am I the only one who thinks something's like, seriously wrong here?”

You froze mid-step, pressing yourself against the wall. Your heart clenched at the genuine concern in her voice.

“No.” Megumi's response lacked its usual detachment, instead replaced by brimming frustration. “The excuses don't add up. Phone troubles? Family emergencies? And now suddenly everything's fine?”

“Yeah...” Yuji agreed—the gravity of his voice was enough to make you want to sink into the ground.

“Did you see how she kept touching her neck? Like she was hiding something?”

“And flinching whenever anyone got too close,” Nobara added, anger bleeding into her words. “I know we're all pretending everything's normal, but—” A frustrated groan escaped her. “God, it pisses me off! We're supposed to be friends, aren't we? What's the point if she can't trust us?”

The sound of Nobara's shoe scuffing against the floor filled the heavy pause that followed.

“Maybe...” Yuji started, “maybe she's in some kind of trouble? Like, the kind she can't talk about?”

“All the more reason she should tell us,” Megumi cut in, “We're not exactly helpless. Whatever it is, we could—”

“Help?” Nobara's snort was bitter—nothing like her usual bright laugh. “How can we help if she won't even tell us what's wrong? I mean, I get it. I do. But it still...”

Her voice cracked. “It still hurts, you know?”

You let yourself slide down the wall.

Sure, they'd welcomed you back with open arms, but underneath that warmth lay real pain, real worry. These people—your friends—had spent weeks wondering if you were dead in a ditch somewhere, and here you were, feeding them cheap excuses.

“Should we tell Gojo-sensei?” Yuji asked.

“He already knows something,” Megumi replied with a certainty that suggested he'd been watching, analyzing, for far longer than you'd realized. “Haven't you noticed? He watches her like a hawk.”

“Yeah, well, fat lot of good that does us,” Nobara muttered. “He's probably in on whatever this is. You saw how he was acting this morning.”

After another weighted pause, Yuji spoke again, stripped of nearly all his drive. “So what do we do?”

“We wait,” Megumi said firmly. “Keep watching. And when whatever this is inevitably blows up—because it will—we'll be ready.”

You heard Nobara's sharp intake of breath, like she was about to say more, but instead, her footsteps stormed off toward the dorms, followed by the others' more silent retreat.

After giving yourself a moment to compose yourself, to wipe away the tears threatening to spill from your eyes, you retrieved your abandoned backpack from the empty hallway.

The walk home felt hollow, each step through the bustling city streets seemed to echo into the distance.

You'd convinced yourself you were protecting them by keeping them in the dark, but maybe you were just protecting yourself from having to face the reality of your choices.

The worst part? You couldn't even promise you'd tell them the truth tomorrow. Not with Sukuna's binding vow hanging over your head like a guillotine, and not if it meant admitting you were becoming a monster by falling for one.

So you'd keep lying. Keep hurting them. Keep pretending everything was—

“Watch it, brat.”

The growl came a second after you slammed into what felt like a brick wall. A bit of déjà vu—was this the third time? Fourth time you'd bumped into him like this? You stumbled back, already knowing who you'd find towering over you.

And it was exactly the crimson eyes you'd expected.

“Can you move, Sukuna?” you snapped. He hadn't done anything particularly egregious today—well, besides nearly making you come undone under his fingers this morning. But perhaps, subconsciously, you blamed him for the hurt your friends were feeling right now... how typically pathetic of you to once again push the blame onto someone else.

You stood in the middle of the street, people flowing around you like water around stones, oblivious to the predator in their midst.

And when that predator bared his teeth at you and his angry glare didn't seem to waver, you gave in,

“Ugh... I'm sorry, okay? I'm just not in a good mood today.”

He let out a low growl and grabbed your shoulder, shoving you forward. “Walk.”

It wasn't a suggestion, and so you let him steer you through the crowd, his grip tight enough to remind you exactly who you'd been addressing so casually. At the first empty alley, he yanked you in and planted himself against the wall, his hands shoved into his pockets.

“Is this about the conversation with Kenjaku this morning? I'll just forget about it so—” you started, trying to head off his wrath, but his sharp laugh cut through your words.

“Oh? Were you eavesdropping on our conversation all the way from the bathroom, woman? How sly...” His eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Perhaps I should chain you up the next time I have guests.”

The threat barely registered as you realized—the conversation he was referring to was the one he had with Kenjaku by the door during your shower, not the one-on-one you had with Kenjaku outside.

And thank god for that, it was better he remained entirely unaware of that particular encounter.

“No, I just—nevermind. Why did you drag me here?”

He reached deeper into his pocket, pulling out what appeared to be an ordinary silver whistle. It caught the dying sunlight as it dangled from his fingers.

“Tomorrow at Jujutsu High. Three o'clock. Blow this and it will summon a curse.”

“Why would I—”

“Because,” he cut in, clearly savoring the moment, “Jujutsu High will be receiving some unexpected visitors tomorrow.” His lips curled into that cruel smile that reminded you he was no ally—he was an enemy, fighting from the opposite side of a chasm you kept trying to bridge.

“And you, brat, are going to create a distraction for them.”

Your stomach dropped. “You're kidding, right?”

“Do I look like I'm joking, woman?” He pushed off the wall, closing the distance between you until barely inches remained.

“There’s something inside Jujutsu High that we need. Jogo and Mahito will retrieve it tomorrow, but they can’t unless all eyes are elsewhere. You’ll blow this whistle, summon a curse, and create enough chaos to make those pathetic fools scatter and scurry, leaving their precious artifacts unguarded.”

“No.” The word came out stronger than you expected, fueled by the memory of your friends' hurt voices. “I won't help you with a plan that puts my friends at risk.”

His jaw clenched. “Don't forget your place.”

“My place? What place? My place as the toy you play with in the morning and discard in the afternoon? The girl you can’t decide if you want to kiss or kill?” A bitter laugh escaped you.

His hand twitched, and you recognized the tell—he was about to strike, either grab your throat or slap your face. But you knew his mannerisms so well by now that you caught his wrist before he could complete the motion.

And he... he let you.

He was stronger, you both knew that, and yet he allowed your delicate fingers to wrap around his wrist and halt his fury.

“They're my friends,” you said quietly, not with fight but with earnestness in your voice. “And you're asking me to help hurt them. Do you realize how fucked up that is?”

You could feel his entire body trembling with rage beneath your fingertips, fighting against his baser instincts.

“The binding vow—” he started—

but you weren't finished yet.

“Yeah, I know about the stupid vow! I'm reminded of it every minute of every day, but I won't obey you if it means people die—people I care about...”

A long silence followed, and you could see the battle raging behind his eyes. His wrist occasionally twisted in your grip, the fire behind his pupils fluctuating between a small flame and an inferno before settling somewhere in between.

He yanked his hand free and took a step back, running his fingers through his hair in a simple human gesture of frustration.

When he spoke again, his voice had lost some of its earlier edge.

“Even those frail teachers at Jujutsu High won't break a sweat against a curse like this—it's barely a grade one. Hell, even your little group of friends could exorcise it if they used their brains. It won't kill anyone.”

But it wasn't the curse that worried you—it was Patch-face and Volcano-head.

“That's not good enough. Do you remember how Mahito maimed me before? I want your word that they won’t kill anyone, that I won’t stumble upon a pile of deformed corpses or the smell of burned flesh.”

He stared at you for a long moment, irritated, because he couldn't quite comprehend how this had transformed from an undisputable command into a negotiation.

But he saw that wet gleam in your eyes, and—

“Tch. Fine,” he growled finally.

“I'll tell that fool Mahito to keep his victims breathing, and refrain from altering them... permanently.” He pressed the whistle into your palm, his fingers lingering a second longer than necessary.

“As for Jogo, he won't cause any unnecessary casualties, but I'll give him the same warning if that's what it takes for you to blow the damn whistle, woman.”

Sukuna grabbed your chin, tilting your face up to his, hovering mere inches away.

“And you will blow that whistle. That is a command.”

You met his gaze, and there it was again—that magnetic pull, that force that made you silently nod in agreement. That power Sukuna had over you not just because he'd enforced it, but because some part of you allowed him to have it.

And if you could have read his thoughts in that moment, you would have known he felt exactly the same way.

Though... he probably would have worded it differently: like a curse you'd put on him, like a festering wound steadily working its way deeper, cracking open his skin so his carefully buried humanity started to slowly ooze out.

And just like you, he was allowing it to happen—allowing you to touch that bare skin and peel it open just a little further each time.

When you couldn't hold his gaze anymore, you took a small step back, fidgeting with the whistle before tucking it into your pocket.

“Hey, Sukuna?”

He raised an eyebrow, staring down at you.

If he agreed to your conditions then...

“Thank you.” The words came out soft, and before you could second-guess yourself, you rose on your tiptoes and pressed your lips to his.

Your first kiss that was, just a kiss. Not a battle, not a lust-fueled dance. Just a simple, ordinary touch of lips.

You pulled away quickly, not daring to see his reaction as you turned and dashed toward the apartment, leaving Sukuna frozen in place.

He stood there, motionless, as the city moved around him in an endless blur of faceless ants. His fingers drifted up to his lips, brushing over them.

For the first time in centuries, the King of Curses found himself utterly still, utterly silent. The inferno of his cursed energy had quieted to barely a whisper, like even it was holding its breath.

As the last rays of sunlight bled from the sky, casting long shadows across the empty alley, Sukuna finally lowered his hand from his lips. A low, confused growl rumbled in his chest as he turned to make his way to the apartment—home to you.

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

Okay, first off, I want to apologize for the hiatus. Life hit me with a lot—health issues, writer’s block, the holidays—and some other personal challenges in my private life. It’s been overwhelming, and honestly, I kind of lost my spark for a while.

Ao3 curse? Maybe. Or maybe it’s just good ol' bad karma for releasing smut on the internet—who knows?

That said, when I finally started writing again, it felt really good, so I’m going to do my best to stick to a bi-weekly update schedule from now on. Some chapters might be a bit shorter because of it, but when I’m in the flow, they might end up being longer too. We’ll see how it goes!

For everyone still here reading—thank you from the bottom of my heart. Your support means the absolute world to me, and I genuinely appreciate each and every one of you. Truly, I love you all. 💕

Taglist: @sukunasthightattoos , @tomiokasecretlover , @6demonize6me6 , @blindbabycadder , @domainofmarie , @marcoschuitmaker , @geniejunn , @chanaaaannel , @nessca153 , @technicallysublimedemon

If you want to be added to the taglist, so you don't miss any updates, please let me know in the comments or with a private message. Thankyou!