#i will always be this messed up thing no one wants to deal with right?
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so I got Steve Trevor;
From one highly stressful situation to the next it seems, Steve really wishes his gun didn’t get misplaced.
Especially considering he’s absolutely not where he was less than a minute ago, considering the endless void of… green.
Why is it always green…
“What the fuck” He’s keeping his stance ready for anything while trying to get his bearings at least somewhat, he seems to be surrounded by ruins, somewhat familiar looking ruins.
“You have experience with Pandora’s box, correct?”
Steve quickly turns around and has his arms loose and ready, slightly up to either defend or attack.
In front of him is a floating… boy?
“Hello” the slightly glowing, black and white clad teen gives him a lazy little wave, cheeky sort. alright then.
“Where the hell am I?”
"Good guess but that's a little more to the left from here"
"What?"
The teen’s expression shifts to something more serious, "Listen, the box got stolen and I need someone with knowledge about the damn thing that can also inconspicuously come with me and isn't bound by dumb ancient rules to help me out with getting it back where it belongs. You came recommended by Pandora so..."
“Are you serious- wait, Pandora as in the Pandora?”
"Yes, Lady Pandora, keeper of the box with the ancient evils or whatever. Of course she knows about you, like I said you have prior experience with dealing with this thing- you are Steven Trevor right? Consort to princess Diana of Themyscira?"
"Consort-" Alright okay so this is really happening, it’s spread to other dimensions now or something? he rubs the bridge of his nose, he could use a good stiff drink to handle this revelation.
"Partner, boyfriend, whatever, listen we need to stay focused here" the teen claps his hands, it actually does effectively grab Steve’s attention back.
"Right, yes that's me. I'm, fuck you're telling me that fucking thing-?"
"Yes, and I could really use a hand here with solving this mess please. Oh uhm, Danny Phantom, nice to meet you.” Danny holds his hand out and Steve gives him a handshake. so the kid knows about the basic typical earth greeting. good to know.
“Now, we got no time to lose, I'll be sure to put you right back where I found you once we're done so no worries"
Well Steve doesn't really want that cause he was in the process of getting kidnapped when he got dragged through a swirling green portal. sadly his attackers confiscated his gun so he’s currently very unarmed but he’d take it if it means he’s not at risk of getting tortured for Justice League intel and used as bait to lure the heroes in.
"Just drop me off in Washington DC. I'd prefer that"
"Whatever you want bud" Danny grins and leads him towards a different portal in the distance.
Steve figures it’s in his best interest to go along with everything for now but once his comms stop being dead he’ll notify the Justice League immediately. Still though, something in his gut tells him that this kid isn’t bad news.
He has this weird feeling that Diana would like him.
Use this random DC character wheel to write a dpxdc prompt, fanfic, or blurb below! (Or just say what ya got ehehe)
#dpxdc#dp x dc#danny phantom#danny fenton#steve trevor#so this actually got me to read Justice League comics#as in the ones where the whole gang teams up and works together#and the guy is apparently the League's middle man?#like he's between the government and the JL#trying to keep the peace so to speak#oh and he's Diana's situationship. I am not exactly sure what's going on there just yet
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Teen spirit
Pairing: Carl Grimes x reader
Warnings: Swearing, main character death, violence
Chapter: 7.01
Your eyes sting when tears roll down your cheeks, leaving a horrible salty taste on your dry lips. The sound of Negan’s wooden bat pounding into someone's skull over and over was horrific. Negan pretended to play a game of eenie meenie miney mo while deciding who to kill, but he already had his mind made up.
“Show them no goddamn fear.”
Negan picked Abraham because he showed him no fear. For all you thought he could be an asshole, at times Abraham was brave, and he risked his life multiple times to save others. He was a hero, and he was loved.
“Did you hear that?” Negan chuckles. “He said, Suck my nuts!”
A couple of the men laugh behind him. Negan swings his bat around, causing blood to splatter across Rick’s face. His eyes move along the line up looking for someone else to torment, and when he gets to the end, he smiles.
“Oh shit girly, that wasn’t your daddy, was it?”
You can’t hold back the sob that escapes your mouth. Rosita was a hysterical mess beside you, and you’d never seen Rick look so terrified before. Would anyone get out of this alive? You wished your dad was with you; he always knew how to make you feel better.
Negan crouches down so he’s eye level with you. “Tell me, am I the worst man you’ve ever met?”
You wipe at your nose before letting out a shaky breath. “No, I’ve met a worse man than you.”
Negan smirks at your answer; he enjoys scaring you. You sob when he uses the bloodied bat to stroke the strands of your hair that had fallen in front of your face, leaving small parts of Abraham's blood in your hair. Horrified, you try to brush it out with your fingers, but Negan did the same thing but on the opposite side of your head.
“Leave her alone!” Daryl snaps; he leaps to his feet and punches Negan in the face.
“No!” You are screaming and watching as two men start to beat Daryl. “He’s sorry, just stop it! Please, please don’t hurt him!”
Negan chuckles. “That? Oh my. That is a no, no. The whole thing, not one bit of that shit flies here.”
Dwight steps out of the crowd and points Daryl’s own crossbow at him while he’s pinned to the ground. “Do you want me to do it?”
“No.” Negan had a sadistic smile on his face. “No, you don’t kill them... not until you try a little.”
Dwight looks confused for a moment, but he grabs Daryl and drags him back to his space in the line-up.
“And anyway, that’s not how it works. Now I already told you people the first ones are free, but I said I would shut that shit down! No exceptions.”
Your breath catches in your throat when Negan steps closer to your side of the line-up. He was going to kill one of you next. You close your eyes, not wanting to see the bat coming.
“Now, I don’t know what kind of lying asses you’ve been dealing with, but I am a man of my word. First impressions are important. I need you to know me. So… back to it.”
Your eyes flicker open, and you scream, seeing the bat covered in barbed wire and blood coming down towards you, but Negan doesn’t hit you; he hits Glenn, who was right beside you.
Glenn survives two blows to the head, but one of his eyes was popping out of his head. He manages to lift his head; he was in so much pain, grunting and sputtering blood from his mouth.
“Are you still there, buddy?” Negan asks mockingly. “I just don’t know. It seems like you’re trying to speak, but you just took a hell of a hit. I’ve hit your skull so hard your eyeball just popped out, and it is gross as shit!”
“Maggie, I’ll find you.”
Maggie sobs in response to Glenn’s final words before Negan counts to beat him. He continues to hit him until his skull is completely destroyed.
“You bunch of pussies! I’m just getting started.”
You feel as if you struggle to breathe when parts of Glenn's brain land across your lap. After your father died, you looked to Rick, Daryl, Michonne, Glenn, and Abraham for strength; they were the ones who kept your community safe. And now the blood of two of them was quite literally on your hands.
“Lucile is thirsty; she is a vampire.”
Maggie was distraught. First your mom and brother, then your dad, then Beth, and now Glenn were gone. You just pray to God that if you make it out alive, she doesn’t lose her baby.
“Now back to you.” Negan points his bat directly in front of your face, causing you to tremble with fear; seeing the blood drip off it so closely to your face causes you to freeze. “Which one of my men stabbed you?”
You’re unable to speak.
“Come on now, kid, you won’t get in trouble for telling me.”
Your eyes darted around the circle of men who were standing and watching Negan torment you all. You finally spot the man who stabbed, “h—h—him.” You swallow thickly, terrified of what was to come next. “It was him who stabbed me.”
Negan walks over to the man and pats him on the shoulder, then brings him out of the circle. “This man right here attacked you.”
You nod.
Negan swings his bat again and strikes the man across the face, causing him to scream in pain. But unlike Glenn and Abraham, he doesn’t beat them to death. “As you said, he’s a man who took the easiest option by stabbing a little girl. I can’t have that.”
—
Before you know it, the sun is starting to rise again. You do your best to avoid looking to your left. The daylight only meant it was easier to see what was left of Glenn.
Your heart drops when the RV pulls up to where you are all still kneeling, the outside of it covered in blood. Negan had taken Rick somewhere, and you expected him to be the next victim, but to your surprise, the door opens and Negan shoves out of the van.
“Rick, do you even know what that little trip was about?”
Rick doesn’t answer; he’s in complete shock.
Negan sighs, “Speak when you’re spoken to.”
“Okay, okay.”
“That trip was about the way you looked at me. I wanted to change that. I wanted you to understand, but you’re still looking at me like that. Like I shit in your scrambled eggs, but that’s not going to work. So... Do I give you another chance?”
“Yeah, yes. Yes.”
“Okay, alright.” Negan smiles. “The grand prize game. What you decide next will be the difference between everyone’s last crap day or just another crap day.”
Negans men step forward and put guns to the back of everyone’s head. Perhaps death would be the better option than being tortured anymore. He was continuing to torment Rick by mocking him and threatening everyone at the same time.
“Kid…” Negan wags his finger in Carl's direction. “Right here. Kid, now.”
Carl glares at him but does as he says.
Negan pulls what looks like a leather belt from the side of his black biker jacket. “Are you a southpaw?”
“A what?”
“You a lefty?”
With nothing but venom in his voice, he answers, “No.”
Negan’s amused by his attitude, “good.” He ties the belt around Carl’s arm. “That hurt?”
“No.”
“Should. It’s supposed to.” Negan steps back, “Get down on the ground, kid, next to daddy. Spread those wings.”
When Carl goes to lay on his stomach on the ground, Negan pushes on his back, forcing him onto the gravel below. “Simon, you got a pen?”
“Yeah,” Simon tosses him a black marker pen.
Negan puts the pen lid in his mouth and starts drawing on Carl's arm. When he’s done, he laughs, looking directly at Rick. “I ain’t doing shit. Rick, I want you to take your axe... cut your son's left arm off, right on that line.”
Rick looks utterly traumatized.
Negan was giving him a horrific ultimatum. Amputate Carl’s arm or watch Carl and everyone else be murdered.
“You don’t have to do this,” Michonne pleads. “We understand, we understand.”
“You understand? Yeah. I’m not sure Rick does. I’m gonna need a clean cut right there in that line. Now I know this is a screwed up thing to ask, but it’s gonna have to be like a salami slice, nothing messy. Clean. Forty-five degrees; give us something to fold over. We’ve got a great doctor; the kid will be fine. Probably.”
Rick looks completely lost in his own head, a thousand times worse than when he went a bit crazy after Lori died.
“Rick... this needs to happen now. Chop, chop. Or I’ll crush the little fella's skull in myself.”
“It can... it can... It can be me. It can be me. You can do it to me.”
“No, this is the only way. Rick picked up the axe. Not making a decision is a big decision. Oh my god, I will start counting. Three!”
“Please, please, I can be me!” Rick cries hysterically.
“Two!”
“Please, don’t do...”
Negan slaps him then grips his jaw. “This is it. One!”
Rick lets out an agonizing sob, then reaches for the axe. You cover your mouth when Rick raises the axe in the air, but right before he can do it Negan stops him. “You answer to me. You provide for me. You belong to me. Right?”
Rick nods.
“Speak when spoken to! You belong to me!”
“Yes.”
“That’s the look I wanted to see.” Negan stands with a proud look on his face. “Well, it took a while, but we got there. Even the dead guys are on the ground. Hell, they get the spirit award for sure. Today was a productive damn day! Now, I hope, for all your sake, you get it now. That you understand how things work. Dwight load him up.”
You try to reach for Daryl’s hand, but they take him. You completely zone out after that, trying to think of any happy memories buried in the back of your mind so you can block what just happened out.
—
You vaguely hear Maggie say she wants to fight the saviors, but her voice is so far away that it’s hard to register if it’s going on for real or inside your head.
Their blood was still on you.
Looking down, you start scratching at your hands, trying to get the blood that had dried in off your skin.
It’s not until someone’s arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling your hands apart, that you start to snap out of it. “Stop it; you’re going to hurt yourself.”
“I need to get it off.”
“And we will,” Michonne says calmly. “I’m bringing you back to Alexandria. We’ll get you cleaned up.”
#the walking dead#carl grimes x fem!reader#carl grimes x reader#carl grimes/reader#teen spirit#carl grimes#carl grimes fanfiction#carl grimes fanfic#carl grimes x y/n#Carl Grimes x you#Carl Grimes/you#teen spirit 7.01#the walking dead x reader#the walking dead fanfiction#carl grimes x fem reader
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"Haven't I given enough?"
Character: Jason Todd x Reader
Content: Hurt with comfort
Word Count: 2.6k
A/N: First post?!? I've written a few of these and published them anonymously on AO3 but figured I'd give it a shot on here as well.
Jason was troubled. It was a label that others had branded him with, but one he never tried to deny either. He thought it was true. He was screwed up, his body marked by years of scars and his mind equally as traumatized with the kind of scars you couldn’t see but definitely knew were there. It didn’t mean he couldn’t be kind or gentle, especially to you, but sometimes, the only way he really knew how to cope was through doing something physical.
At first, that was running, or hitting something. Even going to the salvage yard outside of town to scream for a while. That’s what he had always done when things got really bad. Then, slowly he realized you’d be there and you could take him. Literally. You could tolerate him fucking all his stress out through you. Using you.
Sometimes he felt bad about it, but you always seemed so sure that it was okay. That even if he happened to leave bruises (like he usually did) they never hurt too bad. You enjoyed too, so he kept doing it. Not often, just on the particularly bad nights.
Nights like the one he just had.
When he slammed the door shut behind him all the lights were off in the apartment and he was worried you might have been asleep. He really hated the idea of waking you up, but God, he was so...unexplainably upset. Angry, frustrated, sad in ways his mind couldn’t quite comprehend.
His mind was a mess and to be completely honest, he was so worked up he couldn’t figure out what to do. Kicking something, screaming, maybe crying. No, definitely not crying. Even if he could feel a few tears pricking in the back of his eyes he choked them down, refuses to let them fall. Instead, he walked towards the bedroom, just hoping you were still awake.
You were, of course. But even if you had been asleep, the door slamming would have woken you up.
He pushed the door open and his expression immediately softened upon seeing you, sitting up in bed, wearing one of his shirts.
“You’re home late,” you remarked, closing your—his—book and setting it on the nightstand. “Did something happen?”
He knew you knew something was wrong. You could always tell. But you were too nice to outright tell him how shitty he looked and instead sat up even further, causing some of your hair to fall over your shoulder, grazing your collarbone.
“Nothing I want to talk about,” Jason replied. He hated talking about his feelings in general, but would do it occasionally, under the right circumstances. These were not them.
He kicked his shoes off by the bedroom door and started pulling his clothes off as he walked towards the bed, dropping his gloves on the floor alongside his pants and the rest of his things. He could see the shift in your demeanor; you knew what he wanted. To forget, to let you take away all of his anger and pain so he didn’t have to deal with it for the night. He wanted to get lost in you and forget about how bad everything hurt. Physically and emotionally.
He sat on the bed, instantly reaching for your face, pulling you towards him, kissing you harshly. His teeth scraped yours, noses bumping against each other as the tightness of his shoulder’s coiled further, the action seeming to make things worse. Still, he didn’t stop.
Jason pressed his other hand to the back of your head, pushing himself further into you as your hands instinctively began to roam his abdomen. “Bad night?” you mumbled just before he bit down on your lip, tearing a bit of skin.
“Bad night,” he responded succinctly, grabbing your waist, squeezing it tightly. His head was a jumble of loud thoughts, for some reason harder to ignore than usual but he kept trying.
Reaching for the bottom of your shirt, he pulled it up over your head you let him. To his dismay, you had a bra on under it, and panties too.
Wrapping your arms around his neck as he laid you down on the pillows, his body pressing into yours firmly as your lips locked again for a moment. Jason kissed down your neck, sucking at the sensitive skin eliciting a gasp.
For a split-second, the voices were quiet. They always were when he heard you moaning and whimpering or saying his name over and over. The pain always stayed though, but usually he could tolerate it if he just focused on the motions, on pushing you as deep into the mattress as possible, on rutting his hip into yours until he physically ached from something other than sore bones and old scars.
His hands groped the soft flesh of your waist and hips as he tugged at the top of your underwear, his hand slipping inside.
Jason froze.
His hand still in your underwear, his lips paused against your neck, breathing heavily as the heavy silence made his ears ring.
That had never happened before. Ever. But in that moment, he couldn’t think, couldn’t move.
He couldn’t do this with you, not tonight.
Quickly, he removed his hand, pushing himself off you until he was sitting up. He couldn’t breathe. The room suddenly felt a lot smaller than he always remembered it being. Had it always been so cramped? Or this hot, for that matter. Did you turn the heater up tonight?
Jason swallowed, his throat feeling dry and heart hammering in his chest. “I- I’m sorry,” he apologized as he got up. “I need to get some water.”
“Wait a minute-” you sat up as quickly as he had, grabbing his wrist. You knew he could easily pull away, but he didn’t. He didn’t turn to face you either, though. “What’s wrong?”
Jason’s chest heaved as he tried to breathe, it felt tight, it ached. He hated it. “I just can’t do that tonight,” he managed to say.
He remained—mostly—calm as he kept his eyes glued to the floor. He hated to envision the look on your face. Was it confusion? Was it anger? Something worse, like pity? He didn’t know which of those options seemed preferable.
“Okay,” you agreed easily, tugging on his wrist lightly. “We don’t have to do anything,” you assured him. “Just come lay down.”
He shook his head, swallowing again, his heart still thumping rapidly. “No- no I have stuff to do, I—”
“Jay,” you said calmly, the sound of his voice soothing him slightly. “You’ve been working all night and it’s late. Just lay down.”
Jason bit the inside of his cheek as he stared at the ground. He could feel it, the tears pricking in his eyes again. It had been like that all night and each time he kept pushing them down and now he heard your voice, so gentle and sweet and it made them reappear again.
He took a deep breath. You wouldn’t let this go. If he left the room, you’d follow him and stand with him in the kitchen while he drank his water. He didn’t want that. He wanted this day to be over as soon as humanly possible.
But... “I’m not tired,” was all that came out of his mouth.
Exhaling, Jason turned around, barely able to look at you. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of you with your haired messed up and your neck covered in two or three small bruises on your neck, your chest falling and rising as you caught your breath as well.
Should he hand your shirt back? Apologize again? Leave?
Before he could decide, you were sitting up onto your knees, reaching for him, trying to pull him back towards the bed. Back towards you. He reluctantly let himself be moved, taking a heavy step closer, then another. He sat back down, his gaze falling to the blanket.
“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked, even though you both knew it was futile. He shook his head, his jaw clenched tightly to remind himself to keep it together. At least in front of you. You held his hand, your thumb swiping over the back of his knuckle as you nodded slowly, taking your other hand and placing it on his shoulder. “Just lay down,” you suggested.
Jason nodded and tried to move to his side of the bed, but you wouldn’t let go of his hand. Instead, you gently pulled him forward, laying back down, insisting he follow. He hovered above you, unsure of what to do. He didn’t want to hurt you.
“Lay down,” you repeated gently, your eyes softening even more.
“I don’t wanna crush you,” Jason confessed.
“You won’t,” you assured him.
He hesitantly lowered himself down, pressing more and more of his body weight against you. He could feel the mattress dipping as he did. He’d pushed you into it plenty of times, but not like this.
With his entire body weight on top of you, he exhaled, propping his chin on your chest, staring at you for a few seconds, not quite sure where else to look or what else to do with his hands or legs.
You fixed that.
Jason could feel you tangle your legs with his, wrapping your arms around him, one of your hands finding the locks of his hair to fuss with while the other traced random shapes on his shoulder.
Suddenly, the heat from before that felt like it was suffocating him evaporated, replaced by the warmth of your bare skin against him. He carefully wrapped his arms around you. He’d sure they would go numb soon, after all his entire weight, plus yours were laying on top of them now that they were under your back.
He wondered if that was uncomfortable for you, if maybe he should pull them away and just with them by his sides but before he could ask your hand was tugging at his hair, gently pressing his face into your neck. Not to kiss or mark it. Just to lay there, to breathe you in and hold you.
“I’ve got you,” you promised him, running your hands through his hair, scratching his scalp lightly.
Jason nuzzled your neck slightly, inhaling deeply, the scent of you filling his senses. Before he knew what was happening, the tears in his eyes started to fall without warning.
He didn’t have the chance to fight them at first, a few dampening your neck, but the second he realized what was happening he pulled away, pressing his forehead against the valley of your breasts while taking a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself. “Sorry,” he whispered, his voice cracking. The sound was so pathetic it made him hate himself even more.
You shushed him gently, still playing with his hair as your other hand laid flat on his back. “It’s okay,” you assured. “You’re okay.”
That was the final straw, the supportive tone of your voice broke the dam he had built and his tears started to fall as he shook his head. “I’m not okay,” he confessed, his words spoken into your skin. “Nothing is okay.”
Your heart broke for him, feeling his grip on you tighten even more. You let your hand fall from his hair, wrapping around him, trying to pull him closer or at the very least keep him from leaving like you knew he was contemplating doing.
What could you say that would help? Nothing seemed good enough, so you just let him bury his face in your chest, holding him as he shook from the tears, muttering apologies and words of self-deprecation.
“I’m right here,” you swore. “You don’t need to apologize for anything. Not to me.”
Each word you spoke was like a dagger to his chest, the soft reassurance and whispered praise mixed with how firm your grip on him was made his chest swell as all the pain he refused to let himself feel hit him all at once with an overwhelming force.
Jason hated the burning in his chest, the sting in his eyes, the weakness he felt. Most of all, he hated feeling all of this in front of you. But more than that, he refused to pull away or deprive himself of your touch. He needed it to damn badly. It was the only thing keeping him afloat most days.
“It hurts,” he told you. “So badly. All the time.”
Your arms tightened around him again as you tried to keep yourself from crying with him, the sound of his sobs escaping making your heart hurt more with each failed attempt to make himself stop.
“Let it,” you breathed, resting your jaw on the top of his head as he hid his face in your breasts. “Just for tonight.”
Feeling the pain seemed like a foreign concept to him, but you made it sound so appealing, to just let himself feel weak. Just this once. Just for tonight. He could do that. The only reason why was because you were holding him, comforting him as the pain in his chest grew and grew until he was nearly hyperventilating.
Once again, you were shushing him, your hand softly stroking his hair. “Breathe,” you murmured, inhaling deeply, hoping he could feel it while laying on you. “I know it’s hard, I know it hurts. Just breathe.”
Jason sniffled, taking a shaky breath, timing it at the same time as your own deep inhale and holding a few seconds like you did before exhaling.
“Again,” you whispered, your nails trailing up and down his spine in a soothing motion. He listened and you could feel his body calming down just a little. “Just like that.”
His continued to cry, this time much softer. Like a residual that he needed to get out. Your skin now wet with his tears, but it didn’t matter much.
You placed a kiss to the top of his head. “I love you,” came out in a small whisper as you nuzzled the dark locks of his hair. “So much.”
Jason sniffled again, lifting his head to look at you. He was ashamed to. He felt weak and pathetic and hated to think of you seeing him like that, but he needed to say something and he needed to see your dace when he did.
You could see the redness in his eyes, a stark contrast to the dark purple circles under his eyes from lack of sleep. His nightmares had been particularly bad lately, no doubt contributing to the mountain of problems that led to his breakdown.
“I don’t know how you can love me when I’m this messed up,” he confessed, his voice sounding vulnerable and raw from crying.
You pushed the white streak in his hair away from his face, gently running the back of your knuckles over his cheek. “Everyone is messed up, baby,” you told him quietly. “But I’m not going anywhere.”
Jason’s hands had gone numb underneath your back, so he couldn’t feel them, but he was fairly certain he was trying to squeeze you harder. That’s what he thought he’d be doing, at least.
He dropped his head, kissing the middle of your clavicle where your collarbones met. Just once. Softly. He could the salt from his tears on your skin and it made them prick in his eyes again. He didn’t fight them as hard this time.
Laying his head in between your breasts, he inhaled and exhaled, closing his eyes. Another tear rolled down his cheek and he let it, choosing to instead focusing on the feeling of your skin. Your bare stomach against his, your arms around him, your nails scratching his scalp and back.
This wasn’t what he wanted when came home tonight. But falling asleep in your arms, using your chest as a pillow, listening the sound of your heartbeat and feeling the steady rhythm of your breathing was so much better.
#jason todd x reader#x reader#reader insert#fem reader#jason todd#jason todd x you#jason todd needs a hug#hurt/comfort#angst#jason todd angst
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Bowser vs Eggman: The Aftermath, Sonic's Realization
Restoration HQ
The Restoration's base hummed with quiet industry, a symphony of activity unfolding in the sprawling headquarters. Engineers tinkered with machines, repairing damaged equipment salvaged from the frontlines of battles past. Analysts poured over maps and reports, ensuring the Restoration could respond to any crisis at a moment’s notice. Volunteers bustled through the corridors, distributing supplies to be shipped to remote villages still recovering from the scars left by Eggman’s takeover.
Near the central operations hub, Tails oversaw a group of technicians calibrating a new detection system, his twin tails flicking with excitement as he explained the upgrades. In another corner, Belle hummed a song as she worked on long overdue repairs, her focus undeterred by the chatter of Jewel's logistical assistants organizing supply runs. The day was typical, steady, and predictable. Something that was becoming more and more common in this fantastical world.
Sonic leaned against a safety rail on the upper balcony overlooking the main floor, his arms crossed casually as he took in the scene. Below, a pair of members chuckled at the antics of Rough and Tumble on a monitor. The bumbling skunk duo had tried robbing a supply caravan earlier that week, only to be thwarted by Whisper and Tangle.
"You know," Sonic idly started as Amy came up behind him, "This place runs like a well-oiled machine. Kinda weird seeing it so . . . calm."
Amy smiled. "It’s what we wanted, right? To rebuild without having to fend off badniks every day."
"Yeah, I guess." He tapped a foot idly against the ground. "Just feels like it’s been too quiet. The biggest threats these days are Rough and Tumble making a mess of some random store or Clutch trying to pull off another shady deal. Hardly the kind of thing that gets my blood pumping."
"Maybe that’s a good thing," Amy said, looking at him. "We’re not supposed to need you to be the hero all the time, Sonic. The Restoration can handle the small stuff."
“And I’m here to clean up the big stuff . . . but nothing big has happened in months. I can’t even remember the last time Eggman pulled one of his ‘I’m-gonna-conquer-the-world’ stunts. Man, I just can’t shake the feeling that something big is going to happen, that it’s just right around the corner. If that makes sense.”
"It does," Amy admitted, her tone thoughtful. "I mean, after everything with Starfall Islands, I thought we’d have a new crisis by now. But Eggman’s been completely off the radar."
"Maybe he’s finally throwing in the towel," Sonic said, tilting his head back and gazing at the ceiling. "You know, after losing Sage . . . I think that hit him harder than he’d ever admit. She was like a daughter to him."
Amy frowned, taking in this new information. "You really think that’s enough to stop him? Eggman’s a lot of things, but giving up isn’t one of them. If anything, he’s probably using this quiet time to build something even more dangerous."
"Maybe," Sonic said, tapping his chin in thought. "Or maybe he’s finally realized there’s more to life than building giant ego-machines. I like to think losing Sage might’ve made him . . . rethink things."
Amy glanced at him, her expression softening. "You always see the best in people, even someone like Eggman. But I don’t think he’ll ever stop being Eggman. He’s always scheming, Sonic. Always."
Sonic smirked, the corner of his mouth curling as he turned to face her. "Well, if he is planning something, we’ll handle it. Like always." He tapped the rail. "But for now? I’m gonna enjoy the peace. Even if it is a bit boring."
Before Sonic and Amy could exchange another word, the lights flickered ominously across the Restoration’s base. A sharp crackle of static blared through the speakers, drawing everyone’s attention. The monitors scattered throughout the facility turned black for a brief moment before the familiar crimson insignia of the Eggman Empire appeared with the text ‘Please Stand by’.
The room erupted in confusion and alarm. Restoration workers scrambled to consoles, engineers fumbled with emergency protocols, and Tails bolted to the main control panel, barking orders to the tech team. Above it all, Sonic remained leaning against the rail, his grin widening.
"Well, well," He said with an amused chuckle. "Speak of the devil. Let’s see what ol’ Egg for brains has been plotting!" He could feel that surge of excitement and adventure rise up within him.
"If you are seeing this," Eggman began, his tone uncharacteristically serious, “Then I am dead."
A stunned silence fell over the room. Even Sonic’s grin faltered for a moment, replaced by a raised eyebrow of genuine surprise. Amy’s eyes widened before shaking her head with disbelief.
Eggman continued, his image flickering as though the message were pre-recorded. "Yes, yes, I know what you're thinking. 'Is this some sort of trick?' Let me assure you, if this message is playing, then I have shuffled off this mortal coil.”
He paused dramatically, letting the words sink in before throwing his arms out in mock despair. "Tragic, isn’t it? The world has lost its greatest genius! A monumental loss for science, for civilization, for Mobius itself! But don’t mourn me too much! I’m sure my end was spectacularly dramatic!" The scientist laughed, twirling his mustache.
Eggman continued, his tone shifting to a speculative drawl. "Speaking of which, I’m curious. What could possibly have done me in? Was it one of my magnificent plans going down in flames? Did one of my creations rebel and finally catch me off guard? Or . . . " He grinned, pointing straight at the camera. ". . . did you finally do it, Sonic?" He leaned back stroking his chin as he considered the possibility,”If so, I do wonder what prompted you to do it. I had to have had a truly devilish marvel of a scheme to get you to finally cross that line.”
Eggman suddenly retracted, waving his hand dismissively. “Ah, who am I kidding? You’d never do it. No, no, no you’re too soft. Always playing hero, always keeping me alive so we can do this little dance forever. Ohohoho!”
Amy crossed her arms, annoyed.. “He’s still insufferable as always.”
Eggman wiped a tear from his eye before continuing his spiel, “But fear not Sonic, even if I’m gone you’ll still have quite the foe on your hands! Should Metal Sonic still be operational, and really, why wouldn’t he be? I built him to perfection. Then my empire is in capable hands. Metal will carry my legacy, and he will succeed where I could not. He will destroy you, Sonic. Oh yes, your days are numbered. Even now, I’m sure he’s already formulating the best way to turn you into a smoldering pile of ash! How proud I am!”
The screen glitched momentarily, then Eggman continued, his expression softening into a smug grin. “Of course, I can’t leave without a personal touch. I’ve prepared special messages for each of you. Think of them as parting gifts from beyond the grave! They should be arriving . . . oh, about now.”
As the video cut off, the Eggman Empire logo pulsed on the screens, and then, one by one, the Restoration’s systems began rebooting. Almost immediately, individual monitors across the room displayed specific names: Sonic, Belle, Amy, Tails, and others.
“He can’t be dead, can he?” Belle questioned, her wooden body rigid and eyes wide with disbelief. She was shaking, almost to the point of breaking. The poor puppet jumped as Tails placed his hand upon her back and got her to calm down.
“There’s only one way to find out.” Sonic uttered out, for once he didn’t have his casual smile upon his face. The wind seemed to have been taken out of his sails. One by one each of them approached a different monitor, wondering what kind of message Eggman had left for them.
Sonic leaned forward, his finger hovering over the notification bearing his name. The air around him felt heavy now, the reality of Eggman’s proclamation beginning to set in. He steadied his shaking finger and tapped the screen.
The screen lit up again, revealing a new recording of Dr. Eggman. This time, the background was less ominous. It was his usual workshop, cluttered with half-finished machines and screens displaying blueprints of his countless schemes. Eggman lounged in his oversized hover chair, a smug grin plastered on his face. That grin while still as smug as ever, seemed less performative and much more natural, as though this part was meant for Sonic and Sonic alone.
"Sonic," he began, spreading his arms grandly, "If you’re watching this, then congratulations you’ve outlived me. Bask in the glory of knowing you survived the greatest mind in history! I’m sure you’re standing there, smirking like you always do, thinking you’ve won. But let’s not get too carried away. Because if there’s one thing I know about you, it’s that you’ll never really consider this a win. Not against me"
Sonic nodded, it was true. He never wanted to see Eggman die. He always dreamt that Eggman would have a change of heart, that he would re-adopt that Mr. Tinker persona and work on making the world a better place. That was what victory meant to the Blue Blur, not this.
Anything but this.
"You know, Hedgehog, you’ve been the proverbial thorn in my side for years, and yet . . . I can’t say I ever hated it. Not truly. Sure, you’re insufferable, cocky, and annoyingly fast, but you’ve also been . . . entertaining. From our first little dance back on South Island to our more ambitious confrontations, like, oh, I don’t know, the time I turned you into a werehog . . . Not one of my brightest moments, mind you. But the point still stands! You pushed me, Sonic. Forced me to innovate, to improve, to strive for perfection. The brutal truth is that I am glad that you foiled my plans, it made my future endeavors all the more worth it."
"But," Eggman snapped, his voice snapping back to its usual boisterousness, "Don’t let this go to your head! Even dead I’m still smarter than you in every conceivable way. GAH! If I’d had just a little more time, I would have won! Make no mistake about that!” He pounded his fist against the table before calming himself down,”I’ll admit . . . there were times I almost respected you. Almost."
Sonic let out a soft smirk, understanding that was a confession of respect from the egomaniac.
The workshop around Eggman seemed almost smaller now, the man himself quieter despite the bombast in his words. "But alas, here we are. I’m gone, and you’re still here. I know you’ll carry on, saving the day and being that insufferable do-gooder you’ve always been. And honestly?" He allowed himself a small, almost wistful smile. "The world’s better for it. If I can't take over the world, then you better ensure that no one else will!"
Sonic’s hands dropped to his sides, the faint ache of realization settling in his chest. This wasn’t just another one of Eggman’s melodramatic speeches. For the first time, the finality of it all began to sink in.
He hated this.
This was something that he couldn’t run from, that he couldn’t use his prowess to overcome. Eggman was gone . . . and that fact truly hurt the carefree blue blur.
Sage had asked him to look after Eggman. Those were her final words, for him to ensure that her father would continue to live, for them to make up their differences. And he had failed that little girl, and he had failed himself.
Eggman straightened, his expression shifting to something sterner. "But enough sentimentality! I saved the most important part of this message for last." He tapped the side of his chair, and a familiar figure appeared on the screen beside him. "Sage."
Sonic's eyes went wide as he pressed his head against the screen.
Sage was gone, why was Eggman bringing her back up?
Eggman let out a confident smirk,”I managed to save her, Sonic. I scoured the Starfall Islands and all of Cyberspace, finding the remnant parts of her code, stitching it all back together and nursing her back to health! I succeeded where you failed her!” He uttered out, pressing his finger against the camera.
“She’s alive!?” Sonic shouted out, prompting glances from other Restoration members. A soft grin emerged upon his face,”Of course she is . . . It’s Eggman after all.” He was a miracle worker, always able to do the impossible.
“I’ve already integrated her into the Eggnet. She’s protected now, there won’t be any incidents such as what happened last time, and she WILL outlast me.” Eggman guaranteed, having worked long and hard to ensure Sage’s longevity and survival.
The image on the screen pointed directly at Sonic, his gaze sharp and serious. "And here’s the kicker, since I’m gone, I need someone to look after her. Someone who understands her. Someone who . . . " He hesitated, as if the words tasted strange in his mouth. " . . . who can help her find her place in this world. That someone, Sonic, is you."
The weight of the words hit Sonic like a freight train. The usually confident, quick-witted hedgehog found himself at a loss.
"I know what you’re thinking," Eggman said, his smirk returning faintly. "Why would I trust you with something so precious to me? The truth is, I don’t. But you’re the best shot she’s got. You’re . . . a hero, after all. And for what it’s worth, I think Sage would have liked that."
Eggman leaned back in his chair, a glimmer of something almost human in his eyes. "So, there you have it, Sonic. My final request. My final challenge. Take care of my daughter. And try not to screw it up." He then let out a grin,”And if you do? Then I’ll find a way to rise up from the grave and get you! Oh-hohoho!”
Sonic stood there absorbing Eggman’s last request as he heard the wicked scientist laugh for one final time.
The message ended abruptly, the screen fading to black. For a moment, the bustling sounds of the Restoration felt distant, muffled. Sonic stared at the blank monitor, his chest heavy. He tried to speak, but the words caught in his throat.
Sonic jumped as he felt a hand land upon his shoulder. His head spun around as he saw Amy looking at him, concern clear in her eyes. She ushered him over to where Tails was comforting Belle. The four of them found a nearby table, a heavy silence was practically smothering them as they sat there.
Belle shuddered.
Amy gently placed a hand on Belle's arm, her usual energy tempered with concern. "Belle . . . do you want to talk about it?"
Belle hadn’t spoken yet, her head still bowed. Belle’s hands trembled as she finally looked up, her voice quivering. "H-he called me his daughter." The room fell silent, all eyes turning to her.
"He said . . ." She paused, wiping at her wooden cheek with her sleeve. "He said he never understood the value of family until Sage. But that . . . he regrets not seeing it sooner. Regrets not seeing me as his daughter while he still had the chance." Her voice cracked, and a tear slid down her face, glinting like dew. "He hoped I could accept Sage as my sister. That we could . . . be a family. Even without him."
Amy moved closer, placing a gentle hand on Belle’s shoulder. "Belle . . ."
"But he’s not my father," Belle said quickly, her voice defensive and firm, though the tears kept falling. "My father was Mr. Tinker. Not him. Not-" She stopped, squeezing her eyes shut. "I don’t know what to feel. He hurt so many people. Hurt me by becoming him again. And yet . . ." She shook her head, her voice breaking. "I still wanted to hear those words."
Sonic stood, his face unusually serious as he placed a hand on Belle’s shoulder. "For what it’s worth, Belle . . . Mr. Tinker was real. He was Eggman, just without all the bad stuff clouding his mind. And if that version of him could care about you, maybe that means the Eggman we knew had some of that deep down, too."
Belle’s wooden fingers tightened into fists as she looked at him. "Do you think he really meant it? That he wanted us to be . . . sisters?"
Sonic gave her a small, reassuring smile. "From what he said in my message? Yeah. I think he did. He talked about Sage too, about how much she meant to him. And I think you meant as much to him as Sage does."
Belle bowed her head, letting the tears flow.
Tails frowned as he pat her back, trying to help his friend in her grief.
"Well, I don’t know what I expected, but that message was . . . something else." He crossed his arms, his twin tails flicking behind him. "Typical Eggman, though. Started off talking about how he was the greatest genius of all time y'know, classic 'Doctor Ego', but then he said something about me being . . . what was it? 'The second-smartest mind to ever grace this world.'" He snorted, but there was a small, conflicted smile on his face.
Amy leaned forward, curious. "Wait, second-smartest? That’s a compliment coming from him!"
Sonic smirked, reaching over to ruffle Tails’ fur. "Well, you are the smartest guy I know, little bro. Took Eggman long enough to catch on."
"Yeah, but then he said, 'With me gone, I suppose you’ll finally have a chance to take the top spot. Don't mess it up, Prower. Not that you’ll ever match my heights!' Like he couldn’t resist one last dig." Tails shook his head, but the faint admiration in his tone was undeniable. "Still . . . hearing him admit that? It means a lot, I guess."
Sonic glanced over at Amy,”What about you Ames? What did Eggman say to you?”
Amy looked down at the table, her brow furrowed. “Mine wasn’t much better. He said I should stop chasing after you, Sonic.” Her voice wavered slightly, but she pushed through. “‘It’s unbecoming,’ he said. And that I’m wasting my potential, that I’d be better off focusing on myself instead of clinging to someone who doesn’t share my feelings.” She huffed, trying to mask the hurt. “Then he called me ‘stubborn to a fault’ and said I’d probably ignore his advice anyway. But . . .” she hesitated, her voice softening. “He said I’m stronger than I think. That’s . . . the only nice thing he said.”
Amy sighed, “He wasn’t completely wrong, was he? Maybe I do need to focus on myself more. I’ve been thinking about that for a while now.”
“You’re all right to feel how you feel. Eggman’s always been full of himself, but this . . . this is something else.” Sonic rubbed the back of his head, his eyes darting away. “It’s weird, you know? He’s always been there, always scheming, always chasing me down with his machines. And now he’s just . . . gone?”
The room fell silent again, the weight of Eggman’s absence settling over them.
Sonic pushed off the table and stood upright, his tone shifting to something more determined. “I can’t just sit here and let this stew. I’ve got to find Sage, and I’ve got to get some answers.”
Amy stood up, worry etched on her face. “Sonic, wait. It could be a trap. Eggman’s always been two steps ahead, even when it looks like he’s lost.”
Sonic gave her a half-smile, the sadness still lingering in his eyes. “Maybe. But I’ve got to get some answers. I owe it to all of us to figure out what’s going on.” Without another word, he turned and bolted from the room in a blur of blue, the air crackling in his wake.
Amy sighed heavily, crossing her arms again. “That hedgehog . . . He’ll never change.”
Tails leaned forward, a soft smile on his face. “Don’t worry, he’ll be okay. He’s Sonic after all.”
Belle wiped her face, her voice soft but resolute. “He’ll find her. He always does.” She paused, “And when he does, I’ll have my own questions for Sage. About him. About all of this.”
Eggman Land
Sonic raced through the countryside, the wind roaring in his ears, his mind churning. As he neared Eggman Land, the imposing theme park/fortress loomed over the horizon, its garish lights and towering structures stark against the twilight sky. Yet, something was off . . . there were no patrols, no badniks racing out to intercept him.
The gates were wide open, the rides whirred and the neon lights shined bright, but not a single soul in sight. It felt as though the place had been abandoned in a hurry, left on autopilot. Sonic slowed his pace, the eerie silence pressing down on him. His instincts screamed that something wasn’t right, but he pressed forward, weaving through the empty attractions until he reached the central tower.
As he entered it, he noticed the broken pieces of glass that littered the floor. Moving his gaze upwards revealed the monitors that were all destroyed, laid in ruins. One cracked monitor had Eggman upon it announcing his death in repeat. He finally turned his gaze to the center of the room and saw a man there, leaning forward at a console. He wore a black suit that was currently unkempt, shards of glass hanging loose off of the sleeves.
It was Agent Stone.
One of, if not the most loyal of Eggman’s followers.
Sonic took a step forward, glass crunching under feet. The sound alerted Stone to his presence, the man twisted around gripping a wrench as he faced the blue blur,”You!” He growled out with a rage that Sonic had never seen before. “You’re not allowed to be here! This place is sacred! A monument to the Doctor’s genius!”
Sonic gave a sheepish smile as he raised up his arms in surrender,”Woah! Don’t worry, I’m not here to mess with Eggheads stuff, I’m just here to get some answers. Such as . . . “ Sonic disappeared in a burst of speed, reappearing directly in front of Stone, the wrench wrenched out of his hand. The man fell back onto his chair in surprise,”Such as what happened to Eggman.”
Stone felt his own powerlessness as he turned his head away from the Hedgehog. “He’s not dead.” His voice was full of pain,”He can’t be dead. The Doctor doesn’t die . . . he always has a plan! He is a genius! The greatest genius! D-death is something that can’t apply to him.” His voice broke,”He wasn’t supposed to be gone for this long.”
Sonic’s head tilted as he caught the last part of Stone’s grief-filled speech,”What do you mean, he wasn’t supposed to be gone for this long?” He asked.
Stone glared at the Hedgehog, but gave in as he saw the sheer concern in Sonic's eyes,” . . . Months ago, the Doctor was studying the limits of the warp topaz. It opened a portal to a whole new universe. At first, Eggman wasn’t interested in it. It was far too underdeveloped compared to our universe, that was before he caught sight of a kidnapping attempt and discovered the Koopa Kingdom.”
“Koopa Kingdom?” Sonic questioned,”Never heard of it.”
“Of course you haven’t.” Stone blinked,”I just told you it was from a different universe!” He leaned back in his chair and let out a sigh,”That Koopa Kingdom held a tremendous power and seemed as ambitious as the Doctor, so the Doctor decided to conquer it before it could become a threat to his own plans . . . “ Not to mention he wanted the power that Bowser held for himself. “There was a time table and plans he had to transport his whole army to this new universe, to execute Operation Catfish and then conquer it with one big battle . . . Only, I haven’t heard anything from the Doctor since he left.”
Sonic nodded, everything was beginning to fall into place here. It was like old times, Eggman finding some power that no one knew about and trying to get it for his own ends. It goes badly and now it's time for Sonic to bail him out.
He let out a smirk.
“Stone, you can transport me there, right?” Sonic asked, ready to go out and save Eggman and Sage.
Stone blinked, then narrowed his eyes. “Why would I do that? You’re his enemy. If anything, I should kick you out of here!”
“Think about it,” Sonic grinned. “If Eggman’s stuck in some other universe, you’re not exactly going to get a postcard from him. I’m fast enough to get in, find out what’s going on, and get back before you can even finish another cup of coffee. What have you got to lose?”
Stone turned back to the console, his fingers flying over the keys. “There’s a portal generator in the lower levels. I’ll activate it and set the coordinates to the universe that the Doctor went to.”
Sonic gave a confident grin. “Thanks, Stone. I owe you one.”
“Don’t thank me,” Stone muttered. “Just . . . bring him back.”
Sonic nodded and turned to leave, his mind racing. “Hang tight, Egghead,” he said under his breath. “I’m coming for you.” With that he disappeared into a blue blur as he sprinted downstairs and into the portal below.
KOOPA KINGDOM
The transition was instantaneous yet disorienting. For a moment, Sonic felt weightless, as if he were floating in an endless void. Then, with a sudden burst of light, he was propelled out of the portal and into a vast, vibrant landscape.
He landed on his feet, skidding to a stop atop a hill covered in bright green grass. The sky was a brilliant blue, dotted with fluffy white clouds. The air was warm and carried the faint scent of flowers, reminding him of home, of Green Hill Zone.
He shot out in a burst of speed, rolling around at the speed of sound. He crossed each and every hill as he searched and searched. His leg collided with something hard and caused him to trip. He groaned as he twisted himself around and gasped. What his foot had collided with was the remnants of metal sonic. His entire lower body had been eviscerated, his upper body remained in three separate parts.
“Metal.” Sonic uttered out, expecting and hoping for the robot's eyes to light up, but there was nothing. It remained dim and Sonic felt a lump form in his throat as he questioned what could possibly hold the power to destroy Metal Sonic.
“Can’t stay here.” He reminded himself and continued forth. Each and every step he became more and more worried, as questions ran through his head. After all, he knew that Eggman would never leave Metal there, not like that.
He bounded over a Hill and became privy to a scene of utter carnage. In the distance, the Egg Dragoon was hoisted in the air, its body having a massive spike of Earth through it. His heart skipped a beat as he saw Eggman’s body, but breathed out a sigh as he realized that was just one of his D3COYs. His head swiveled around, going over the sea of badnik parts and seeing the disembodied head of the Death Egg Robot.
“What happened here?” Sonic muttered out, a tinge of fear in his voice. He jogged down hill, going straight towards that head . . . but stopped as he caught sight of the Egg Mobile. It was cracked, left in a derelict state.
What’s more was the fact that it was completely made out of stone.
It was over.
Sonic knew that it was over. That Eggman came here to conquer and he lost everything. After all, the Egg Mobile was always his last line of defense. It was how he always escaped and survived, not even a blackhole would destroy it. It was a safety net for the Mad Scientist, that no matter how bad things became, he could always escape it via the Egg Mobile.
But here it was.
Broken.
Just like everything else around here. From Metal Sonic to the Death Egg Robot, there was no way that Eggman survived.
Sonic sat down, leaning his back against the cold stone. His gaze moved up to the clouds, wishing that things could be different. Wishing that he had followed through on what Sage had asked of him at Starfall Island and that he checked up on the mad scientist.
For a long moment, Sonic said nothing. Then, his voice broke the stillness, soft and almost hesitant. “So . . . this is it, huh?” Sonic said softly, as if Eggman could hear him. “Leaving without ever truly saying goodbye. You always had to make things dramatic, didn’t you?”
The silence stretched around him, the wind rustling faintly through the distant grass. Sonic rubbed the back of his neck, forcing a small, bitter chuckle. “You know, for all your evil schemes, you were never boring. I kinda liked the challenge, you always kept me on my toes.” He smirked faintly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Even after all the times I trashed your plans, you never gave up. Always bouncing back, always coming up with something new . . . .”
Sonic chuckled, running a hand through his fur. “I know I give you a hard time, but I always thought . . . maybe one day, you’d change. You had it in you. I mean, look at Belle. Look at Sage. You’re capable of more than just destruction, y’know? You can create such fantastic things, I know if you put your genius into it, you could’ve made a better world. I mean, look at how much joy you created back when you were Mr. Tinker.”
He sighed, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. “I just . . . I wish things could’ve been different. That maybe, just once, you’d decided to fight with us instead of against us. You always said you wanted to conquer the world, but I think what you really wanted was to prove something. To yourself. To everyone.”
Sonic leaned his head back, closing his eyes as the sun warmed his face. “You were the biggest pain in my butt, but . . . it was fun. The races, the battles, the smack talk, it was all a game to you, wasn’t it? And, yeah, I had fun too. More than I’d ever admit out loud.”
Sonic got up to his feet, staring over at the Egg Mobile. “I’m going to look for Sage, I know you wouldn’t have put her in harm's way. I’ll find her and bring her back home. I owe it to the both of you.”
He raised up his arms and fist bumped the machine.
“Thanks for the memories, Doc.”
With that he sped away.
#sonic the hedgehog#sonic#fanfic#death battle#amy rose#belle the tinkerer#dr eggman#eggman#dr ivo robotnik#sonic experiences grief#sonic does not know how to process grief#agent stone
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what is your worst "hear me out" for transformers? mine is tarantulas like a spider in irl hell no… but a big robot spider thats hot
Probably Tarantulas (I love his Earthspark design) or IDW Waspinator.
I read Windblade for Metroplex lore and it reminded me of this messed up, fatally gullible mech that is everyone’s punching bag and just knows it.
Worker Bee
IDW Waspinator x Reader
• Dragging his broken body, his alt mode scrabbles for purchase in the leaf litter. It’s hard to focus on much besides the pain and finding somewhere safe to hide and heal. He’s not even sure what he did, only that Skywarp had pointed at him right before Megatron went ballistic on him and the two other Decepticons that had been close by. Maybe he had done something wrong. He must have. “Waspinator’s fault,” he rasps, antenna flicking because there’s light up ahead, a building where he’ll be out of the snow just beginning to fall. Leaving the tree line, he drags himself inside, legs scrabbling and knocking over a metal can that clatters as it goes rolling and he collapses on the straw inside. So tired, burrowing in.
• Looking up from your book at the noise, you groan because the raccoons are back and they’ve tipped over the trash can. It’s late and you just want to ignore it and deal with it in the morning, but there might be garbage strewn across the yard by then. Standing, you tug on a coat, grab a flashlight, and a rifle just in case it’s a bear, not cute little trash pandas raiding your garbage. You’d left the barn door open apparently and you find the can turned over, but its contents not scattered everywhere. Maybe the sound scared them off? Setting the gun down, you right the can and turn as something shifts within the hay, rising slowly to tower over you.
• There’s a human with a weapon. Here to hurt him, because everyone does. They always do. It hurts to transform and reach for the human, but his injuries throw him off balance and he crashes down, knocking the little organic sprawling with him. And you’re screaming at him, your fear jangling through him making him curl forward, servos over his head. Waiting for a blow that doesn’t come. “Not hurt Waspinator?”
• Hyperventilating as the monster lifts its big head slightly, you can’t even scream. It’s gigantic, seizing your ankle when you try to crawl away and dragging you back, looming over you. All you can do is hold up your hands in supplication as those awful mandibles work and those glowing optics stare. “Don’t hurt me.”
• This is new. Someone afraid of him? It should make him feel powerful to be the one feared for once, but it just makes him oddly ill. Sitting up and gingerly touching the wound in his torso sluggishly bleeding energon, he makes a buzzing click of his mandibles. “No hurt,” he says as you scramble to your hands and knees to put some distance between you. “Already hurt,” he adds tiredly, and you hesitate in your retreat. Staring at the energon welling through his servos. You take a hand through your hair, expression twisting.
• All you have to do is run like hell. That thing, Waspinator it had called itself, is hurt too badly to chase you. But there’s something about its defeated tone that makes you feel guilty. This isn’t your problem. Big and scary was already hurt when he crashed in your barn. So why do you go over to the workbench and retrieve a roll of duct tape? He hisses at you, rearing back when you try to touch him and you freeze. “Cut that out,” you snap and his antenna flatten back. Not hurt Waspinator? You’d guessed with the way he’d worded that question that maybe he’s used to being hurt. That he’d fold if you acted aggressive and you were right. It’s unsettling to see a giant, metal death bug cringe like a puppy being scolded. But he doesn’t make a peep as you find the hole in his metal side and gingerly tape the leaking lines, trying to not think too closely on what you’re touching or that your hands are inside him rooting around. “Waspinator, right?” The way he’s just staring down at you with those wide glowing optics just cements in your head that he’s a big, really ugly puppy.
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Smeared Lipstick
Still on my Logan nonsense (thank god) and had a round of Patch!Logan feels. I know nothing about him other than what I saw in Deadpool and Wolverine, so sorry if I messed him up somehow.
This is for @likedovesinthewnd because she's the one who told me I should write it lol
Also shout out to @bpmiranda for posting the best/nastiest smut fics that inspired me to go ham and not hold back for once. If you need some more Logan, read mine first but she's got a lot more!
Warnings: Casino, basically pure smut with only a sprinkle of plot, oral (male receiving), some light conartistry, mutant reader, bathroom smut, fingering (both receiving because I'm a feminist lol), sugar daddy but only kinda, Patch!Logan, a touch of 'getting caught', and probably some other stuff. Let me know if I missed anything important.
Word Count: 3473 (don't look at me)
[More Logan]
[Main Master List]
“Hit me,”
The dealer passed Logan another card and he concealed his joy easily. He’d hit 20 for the third time at this table. Lady Luck always on his side.
“You win again, sir,” The dealer said, pushing the new stack chips across the table to him.
“I’m afraid it’s time we close this table, sir,” Your voice always soothed something in him. You’d been working at this particular casino for a few months, and so, Logan always found himself at your tables. No one suspected the truth of why you both were there.
“Pity, I was doing so well,” Logan looked up at you with his one good eye, drinking in the way your glittery red dress hugged every single one of your edges just right. How you hair was done up with sparkly bits to match the shine on your dress. How your lipstick was the exact shade of red as your dress.
You looked good enough to eat, if he were being honest.
“I’m sure I can find you somewhere else to play,” You smile, half customer service, half something naughty. Logan put the cigar he’d been chewing on away into his pocket. He had a feeling he’d find himself with something better to put in his mouth shortly.
“Lead the way, sweetheart,” Logan stood, leaving his chips all on the table. “Cash those into my account,” This was directed at the dealer who was just cleaning up his station.
“Please, Mr. Locken,” You urged the dealer. He was a clever young man, one of your best dealers. He’d caught three different cheaters in his time at the casino, and you were impressed that he was so good at catching them. Even the team upstairs, who’s entire job it was to catch cheating, had missed one of the three Locken had spotted.
“Of course, Miss Y/N,” Locken replied, gathering Logan’s chips.
“Thank you,” You said, taking Logan’s arm and leading him away.
Logan had been staring at the skin exposed that showed over the slinky material of your dress. You knew poor Locken likely knew exactly what you and Mr. Logan were about to get up to. Locken didn’t really want to know, but it wasn’t exactly a secret that you and Mr. Logan, the high roller with an eye patch, were an item. Most of the staff knew, and the rest likely suspected.
But Mr. Logan, being a high roller, got away with all kinds of things. Fucking the floor manager was hardly a big deal or a surprise at that point.
“And where are you taking me, Miss Y/N,” Logan mocked Locken’s tone and you smacked his chest with one hand. “As I recall, there aren’t any tables this way, and the hotel is the other direction too,”
“I was thinking you needed a little more luck,” You told him. “I heard that another big fish was headed in to drop some cash, and he’s luckier than most who walk through the door.” There was something about you that no one in the building, other than Logan, knew about you… and that was that you are a mutant who could control a person’s luck. You can also see how lucky someone is, just by touching them. It came in all kinds of handy working in a casino, and extra handy where Logan was involved. The two of you having a sort of arrangement in regards to luck.
“What did you have in mind for me?” Logan mused as you led him down another hallway and into a single stall bathroom. It was one of the large single stall bathrooms, where several people could use the two sinks and spacious counter during a wedding or other event, usually to get ready. This particular bathroom was out of the way of the main space though, less likely to get interrupted.
“Lock the door,” You told him with a saucy smirk.
You and Logan had met originally in a different casino, and he’d figured out that his string of bad luck had been tied to you. He thought, originally, that it was because he’d gotten so distracted by you that he’d lost his edge. You knew it was because you’d turned all his luck to bad and all your own luck to good, hoping to clean house well enough to eat for the next month.
“Yes, ma’am,” Logan turned to lock the door and when he turned back, you were sitting on the counter, skirt hiked up to your knees. Logan took a deep breath through his nose that quickly dissolved into a growl of pleasure as he smelled your arousal. “Never will get over how good you smell, honey,” He stepped between your thighs and tipped your chin up so that you were looking at him.
“Only for you baby,” You purred back, leaning up so your breath brushed his lips sensually.
“No kissing,” Logan reminded you, and you pouted, but you knew the deal. After he’d found you out as a mutant, you’d both struck a deal. You would give him better luck, and he'd take good care of you, effectively becoming your sugar daddy. Only, if you called him ‘daddy’ he’d bend you over his knee, so you saved that for special occasions.
“Please?” You begged, knowing that was the only line left in the sand between you. You’d done everything else, had sex in every direction you could think of. But no kissing. Never kissing.
You didn’t like it, but it was easy enough to complain around.
“You know the rules,” Logan growled softly. He ran his tongue along the exposed skin at your throat and you moaned. He chuckled, feeling your vibrations against his tongue.
“Rules are made to be broken, I thought?” You press as he steps forward to bump the hardness in his pants against you. Your hips move against him as if there was ever any question to what was going on between you.
“I can walk away,” Logan warned and you whined, but nodded to tell him you’d stop asking. “Good girl,”
“Wait,” You said, suddenly having a sordid idea. Logan rocked backwards on his heel enough to peer questioningly into your face. “Let me take care of you this time,”
“You wanna take care of me?” Logan asked skeptically. You reached down to palm him through his slacks. His eye fluttered closed at the contact and he had to brace himself on the counter on either side of you.
“Please, baby? Since you won’t let me kiss you, at least let me taste you?” You batted your eyelashes at him and he knew he was a sucker for giving in to you anytime you did that. Hell, he’d kill a man no questions asked, if you batted your lashes at him.
“Get to it then,” He moved back only far enough to let you slide off the counter and to your knees. You made short work of undoing his belt and pants. You pulled his slacks and boxers down just far enough to allow his cock to spring free. He was already rock hard and leaking for you when you cooed happily and kitten licked the warm tip of him.
He had to grip the counter again to remain in control of himself. You smirked as you did it again, tasting the salty tang of his precum before you wrapped your lips around just the head of his cock.
“Fuck,” Logan grunted, trying his best not to slam his dick straight down your throat. He knew you could take it, but he wanted to let you get there on your own.
“Want me to stop?” You pause only long enough to ask before you licked a long stripe up the underside of him, tracing the thick vein there from balls to tip.
“Don’t you dare,” Logan pants, cursing again when you go back to the small licks along the very tip of his cock. You always seemed to know exactly how to drive him out of his mind. Maybe that was why he’d give you anything you wanted. Diamonds, jewelry, gold, silver, hotel rooms, a car if you asked for it… He’d give you anything his money could buy.
Anything but the heart he was pretty sure you weren’t even aware you’d already stolen.
You pressed a small kiss to his angry red tip before sticking out your tongue and sliding him into the warmth of your mouth.
Logan cursed again, his hips bucking once before he could stop himself. You adjusted your knees on the hard tile floor, loosened your jaw, and slid your hands lovingly around his thighs.
With your eyes fluttering softly and the end of his dick in your mouth, Logan was surprised he didn’t cum right there on your tongue.
You looked up at him and gave a slight nod, telling him you were ready for him to take control if he wanted it. Logan felt his heart rate spike as the animal in him begged to claim you. If he wasn’t careful he’d bury his fist in your hair and throat fuck you until you couldn’t speak. But he’d promised to be careful when you were at work, because you needed to look nice for the casino.
When Logan didn’t immediately take over, you leaned forward, taking more and more of him into your mouth, slowly, until he just barely touched the back of your throat. Your throat constricted on a gag and the feeling of your throat closing was all it took for the animal inside him to break free.
Logan’s strong hand cradled the back of your head, trying to avoid pulling out the glittery baubles you’d put there this morning before he’d driven you to work. You leaned back into his palm, trying to ease the sensation in your throat, and you got relief for about two beats before that same careful hand pulled you back along him until your nose was pressed flush with the rough hair at his base.
You knew it was his turn to have his fun now, and you couldn’t help but grin for a moment before you remembered how hard it was to breathe around the girth of his cock.
Your nails dug into the meat of his thighs as you focused on breathing while he jerked his hips. The drag of his cock along your tongue made heat pool in your stomach as he abused your throat over and over again.
Meanwhile, Logan was making the most guttural noises while he used your throat. His grunting and groaning echoing in the empty bathroom, occasionally punctuated by a soft curse or two when your throat squeezed him just right. All paired with the wet sound of his cock sliding in and out of your throat.
But as much as you’d love to let him stay there in your mouth until he came, you needed a break. You reached up and tapped on his stomach, your agreed sign that you needed air.
Instantly, Logan pulled back and caught your eyes with his one good eye.
“You alright?” He asked and you nodded with a slight cough.
“Just needed to catch my breath,” You admitted. “I’m out of practice,”
“I know one way to fix that,” Logan said with a cheeky grin.
“Give me five more seconds,” You said, adjusting on your knees again. You took a second to pull his slacks down to his knees. You lean in and give some attention to each of his beefy thighs, kissing the strong muscles and nibbling the soft flesh.
“Don’t tease me,” Logan grumbled, his hand coming back to your head. “Finish what you started,”
“Yes, sir,” You batted your lashes up at him and his cock twitched next to your face. You take another moment to lick the side of him, rubbing his length against your face, showcasing just how long he is compared to your head. It was a wonder you could fit him all down your throat.
You kiss the side of his dick a few times, preparing you both for another round, and with one last kitten lick to his slit, his dick slid back into your throat.
The second time is always easier for you, and you’re always happy to help when it means he’s letting out those grunting noises you love so much.
And you knew exactly what would make him whine for you too.
You slid your hands up and around the back of his thighs until you could grip both of his taught buttcheeks in your hand. This distracted him enough from his movements that you were able to swallow around his tip and make him groan again. You bobbed your head as you kneaded his flesh and he got lost in the sensation the exact same way you did when he was face down between your legs. And just like he always did, you carefully slid a finger into his waiting hole.
The noise Logan makes is something you wish you could bottle up for a rainy day. It’s somewhere near a whine and too gravelly to be a whimper. You withdraw only long enough to add some moisture to your digits before working yourself back into him, stroking at that spot deep inside that makes his thighs tense and his knees shake.
Having discovered how stroking him like this made him feel, you understood why he liked to finger-fuck you so much. Making him experience such pleasure, pleasure that only you have brought him? Heaven. Heaven on earth, about to cum down your throat.
Logan never lasts long with your fingers in his ass.
You hold your breath while he comes undone in your mouth, bucking his hips against the swirling of your tongue. You try to swallow it all, but it’s difficult when he’s moving still, so you just hold on until he’s pumped every last drop into your mouth.
Before he can be overstimulated too much, he pulls your hand away from him and slides himself from your soft mouth.
“Fuck, baby, thought you were going to suck me dry for a second there,”
“I would if you’d let me,” You smiled up at him. He reached down and gently rubbed his thumb under your bottom lip, catching a drip of his cum that you hadn’t managed to swallow. At first you thought he’d press it into your mouth, but instead he brought it to his own and you felt your face flame with unexpected heat.
“Maybe next time sweetheart,” Logan helped you to your feet before adjusting himself and pulling up his slacks.
“Wait, you’ve got lipstick all over,” You tried to stop him from tucking himself away hoping you could clean him up properly, but he just chuckled and did up his pants.
“Something to remember you by,” He teased and you rolled your eyes before turning to the mirror to see the state of your own face. It was about what you’d figured but also you didn’t mind in the slightest.
Your red lipstick was smeared all across your cheek, your eyes were wet so your eyeshadow had mostly rubbed off, but luckily your eyeliner had stayed put. You wore super waterproof eyeliner for that reason after all. There was still some of the sticky release of Logan’s painted on your lips and tongue from where you’d failed to swallow it all.
“Look at that,” You mused. “You smeared my lipstick,” Logan chuckled at that, turning you around so that he could see.
“Seems so,” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a silk handkerchief. He gently took your chin and held you steady while he soiled the white silk with your red lipstick and the remains of his cum. After fucking your throat like that, you almost forgot he could be gentle too.
You liked it when he was gentle.
When Logan was satisfied with his work, he put his handkerchief back in his pocket and leaned down to kiss your cheek, you froze when you felt his lips at the edge of yours. Almost a kiss.
But he knew better than that.
You both did.
You whined softly for him, wanting more, but you also needed to get back to work.
“Turn around for me,” Logan said. You raised an eyebrow at him but did as he asked, gasping when he pressed himself against your ass.
“Logan,” You chided. “I need to head back,”
“Just give me a minute to return the favor,” Logan was smirking at you over your shoulder as you watched him in the mirror. “I promise I won’t smear your lipstick this time,” You bit your lip at the thought of him getting you off here too.
“I really should be getting back,” You tried to say, but it was half hearted at best. He smacked your ass and you whimpered at him, terribly needy and terribly turned on.
“Spread your legs for me and lift your skirt,” He commanded against the shell of your ear. “Now,” You jumped at the authority in his voice and moved to do as he asked. You hoisted your skirt up to your hips and let your legs shift apart so that he had room to slide his knee between your thighs.
You gasped as he bounced his leg into your sensitive folds.
“I’ll repay you properly when we get home tonight, but until then,” He pressed a soft kiss to the side of your neck. “Let me make my baby feel good,” You could only nod as he reached down and slid his hand into your already soaked panties.
“Logan,” You moaned as his finger traced circles around your bud. “That feels so good,”
“Good,” He nibbled on your earlobe. “Just relax,”
You were about to give in entirely until the handle to the bathroom jiggled and it reminded you all at once that you were at work.
“Fuck, Logan…” You tried to stop him, but he dipped his fingers deeper and you mewled instead.
“Don’t worry about that, focus on me and what I’m doing,” Logan purred. The handle rattled again and this time you heard someone curse about the bathroom being occupied too long.
You jumped when the person outside banged on the door.
“Find another bathroom, bub!” Logan growled loudly as he kicked the door angrily in return. Another curse from outside the door and Logan slowed his movements until he couldn’t hear the person outside anymore. “Now where were we?”
You were gripping his arm, which was wrapped around your waist to keep you in place.
“I don’t even remember,” You admitted with a laugh, which shifted into a moan as he moved his fingers against you again and all at once you remembered. “Fuck,” You moaned.
“That’s it,” He sped up his fingers, watching your face in the mirror as your closed your eyes in pleasure. “Come on, baby, give it to me,” He grunted against your shoulder, his teeth teasing your skin.
It didn’t take much more for you to cum around his fingers, fluttering and shaking in his arms as he held you up.
“That’s it pretty girl, that’s it,” Logan purrs against your ear, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. “That’s my pretty girl,”
You turned, wanting to kiss him, to thank him for this, but you remembered his rule, so instead you pressed your forehead into his jaw and whined at him.
“I really do need to get back to work,” You whisper. “And you need to go make enough money for that trip we’ve been talking about,”
“Yes ma’am,” Logan chuckles in your ear as he finally pulls his fingers out of the tight embrace of your cunt. You groan at the loss of him, but hum in pleasure when you watch him lick his fingers clean. “Need me to carry you to your desk?” He teases.
“Oh shush,” You stand and adjust yourself. “I was just enjoying the moment for a little longer,”
“Could always play hooky and use your key to get us into a room upstairs,” Logan said it like he was nothing but serious. You shove him playfully.
“Yeah, and then I’ll get fired again,” You chide. “We’re going to run out of good casinos if we keep doing that,”
“So?” He pressed his lips to your temple. “Maybe when we run out of casinos, I’ll make an honest woman out of you,” This makes you pause. Could he be serious?
“Only once we’ve run out?” You asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.
“And if we get married, I’ll have to kiss you, won’t I?” It sounded almost like a tease, but there was nothing but joy and mirth in his eye.
And maybe, just maybe, love was sparkling in there too.
[More Logan]
[Main Master List]
#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#wolverine#wolverine x reader#deadpool and wolverine#logan howlett smut#logan#smut#patch!logan#Patch#james howlett logan#james logan howlett#logan smut#wolverine x you#logan howlett x you#wolverine fanfiction
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hello i was tagged by @18minutemajor for WIP Wednesday. it is not Wednesday but i am also not a cop so . here we gooo!!!!!!! tagging my esteemed colleagues (very politely and with no pressure!!!):
@neonfretra @oensible @sorrellegiance @moregraceful @stereax
@wheelsnipecelebrini
@korshrimpski (EDIT: it won’t?? let me tag you. unless these are on separate lines <3)
what's in-progress in your life <3 writing? art? recipe? skill acquisition?
if any crafty people see this - if ANYONE sees this - and would like to join in, feel free and consider yourself tagged <3 (and tag me back so i can see your stuff!!!) link to 18minutemajor's post if yall curious :3 my VERY long wip dump + ramblings under the cut!
its christmas soon and i like to paint gifts for my friends + and i'm finally revisiting my anime/lineart/inking era (here you are K!! my lineart past, present, and future!! <3) so here are some things i've been working on/coming back to/MAY NEVER FINISH: hockey related:
this is juraj slafkovsky and his dinky little middle part which he can absolutely learn to style into something a little less dinky but never does. i am so charmed by him. i imagine he just rocks it because his pretty privilege supersedes dinky middle parts . LMAO!!
here is Sasuke from my Naruto Hockey AU. I am a little stuck on jersey mockups lol. here he is. our haunted little 1OA who is absolutely normal and regular about his captain (LOUD incorrect buzzer):
personal oc art
wanna know some puckpocketed deep lore? i've never been one to make OCs. i was just not a very creative kid tbh. spent all my time drawing sailor moon instead. i still go back to her sometimes because she is one of my favourite shapes in the WORLD!!
in my 20s i took up playing d&d because of the. uh. plague. <3 and got pretty close to having OCs!! those count right? anyway. here is my tavern-wench-turned-wizard!!! i think i painted this 2 years ago? <- put dates on your works guys it saves lives. her name is Mel (short for Melins (pronounced like melons. on account of her knockers. can you tell i never grew out of my 12 yr old booby/cock joke era?) i revisited Mel recently and have started painting her in earnest again!! :3
I briefly dated someone who was very into streetwear and fashion, and I fell down a techwear/gorpcore/cyberpunk rabbit hole for a couple days out of curiosity. i remember literally zero salient info on any of it except the broad strokes of silhouetting and Vibes. what i emerged with, however, was a ?? sorta OC?? im not sure what to call them. they dont rly have a name or gender. I did this little sheet ages ago + the aborted attempt at a portrait later:
Here are my most recent explorations (i have been doing SOOOO much art. <3) which include:
unfinished character sheet + chibi art. I played with their jacket (much more structured/square/tailored thing) and added a lotta random buckles and belts. i took textiles class years ago and have a little experience in garment construction. and i know for a fact this thing does not make any sense. it hurts me to look at a little bit LMAO so i've paused it while i go draft patterns (badly. i was never good at drafting. i think i may have to break out my scrap fabric stash and hand sew a real life mock-up. HELP!)
here is me having fun with them and imagining them as some kind of cyber-fisherman. the best part of every game is the fishing mini-game to me. i love fishing mini-games so much. I made their hair really big because i wanted them to have big unwieldy hair and the vibes told me i should add more movement to the piece aside from the fishing line. I messed with their jacket AGAIN because i can't stop thinking about what kinda jacket they'd wear. gorp-core ? idk. it sure is something!
gifts for my friends :3
back in my weeb era for real YAYYYY!!! up til now i'd been making hockey art using a zero pressure sensitivity pen brush because i simply did NOT want to deal with that. it is and has always been a barrier to me making art that uses line art. <3 easing my way back into it though!
I used to paint gifts for my friends and then get them printed into lil posters and mount them on nice backing :3 i am now ready and back to painting.
Here is my girlbestie's OC. just a rough pose sketch. i think im pretty unsatisfied with the gesture of the head/hand. i wanted to include her gun in some way. i fear i may have to rework the pose entirely <3
For the genshin girlies.. here are some of my friends fave characters.
Yelan - this one i started many holidays ago and put on the backburner because the colouring was wigging me out. you can see where i started rendering stuff + got sidetracked and started on something else (the crystal choker IM LAUGHING @ past me...)
Ayaka - I reaaally like what i did here with the perspective + foreshortening. I don't know if the pose or expression is in-character or not, but i had fun :3 got stunlocked looking at references of genshin weapons so this is where i left off:
if you made it all the way down here hi... <3 ice hockey really cracked the ketchup bottle open for me when it comes to making art again. i love the communities i've found, and i'm inspired by every artist on here every day. thanks for being so cool + have a great day :)
#hiiii... late with starbucks (gigantic wip dump now i feel good about sharing again)#puckpainting#tag game#eye contact#the . the tag thingy for half of these aint working HELP <3
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Don't even get me started on Hod, I'm not immune to Hod.
#Listen man she's doing her fucking best and she's underappreciated and like she's TRYING MAN#She wants to be useful and wants to be able to bring change and wants to atone and make right her mistakes which were honest mistakes#she didn't know it would be like that she was always trying to help people and she keeps fucking it up and she can't stop fucking it up#and it sucks and it's the fucking worst because no one takes her seriously and she's constantly shit on and put down and seen as nothing#The harder she tries and the harder she fails the more she becomes a fumbling mess because it's all too much to deal with#She literally turns to drugs because it's the only escape left at this point after everything she's done she just sort of gives up because#it's all too much and she knows if she tries again she'll just fuck it up again and MAN#Also I realize that her like chipper and upbeat generally forgiving attitude is mostly a front but it's also very attractive to me#but yea she's very cute and honestly I have a thing for women in suits so like that's a given but also she's so tragic#but she's specifically tragic in a way I understand and vibe with a LOT as a fucking failure myself.#As someone who does turn to drugs to numb the literal physical pain and ease my mental depression I can really ''get it'' you know?
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flashing simon your titties in the middle of an argument
it’s the fourth time this week and he’s pretty much getting sick of your attitude.
whether it’s about the messy drawers, forgotten keys, not getting your fresh strawberries from the market and now, it’s about the new female recruit that seems to be enjoying flirting with your boyfriend and him not doing anything about it. of course you’re pissed! you’re allowed to.
“sweetheart” simon huffs out a sigh of annoyance, rubbing his hands all over his tired face. “for the fifth time… i wasn’t flirting with her”
a scoff escape your mouth. cocking one eyebrow while your arms are crossed over your chest. “i didn’t say you were. i said that bitch had her hands all over you and you didn’t do anything! she was batting her fake ass lashes at you too. jesus, her ass should got beat for that”
the sight of you getting pretty heated almost turned him on. almost. sure, you’re hot when you’re angry and usually he’d fuck you dumb to get that out of your system but this time? he’s far too exhausted.
“fuckin’ hell” he shakes his head in disbelief. “you know that’s not what happened. we were just talking.”
“i know what i saw-“
“don’t give me that!” simon exclaims, pointing his finger at you as he watches you give him a look of ‘oh you did not just do that’. “we were basically just talking, she was the new recruit. asking me about pointers.. and it was at the gala! what did you expect me to do?!”
you shrug casually, leaning against the kitchen counter. “poke her eyes with a fork”
“my god-“ he has to cut himself off before releasing a heavy sigh. eyes shutting briefly, head tilts to the back as he silently prays to whoever up there to give him enough strength to deal with you. “that would be illegal.”
“for you, maybe. i’d do it if you weren’t in my way.”
“that’s crazy” he answers, earning a look from you. “i didn’t say you are crazy! christ, woman!”
rolling your eyes, you huff. maybe you are overreacting but the thing is? you don’t want him to win. because in your head, you’re always right.
“so, what? you’re just going to let other female recruits feel you up too, huh? grab your biceps, twirl their hair when they look at you or maybe hey! you’d let them grab your dick too.”
“you’re unbelievable”
“me?! you are—“
“no! okay, you know what?! doll, i love you... i do so please never doubt me, yeah? but you can’t keep doing this, alright?! it’s not healthy! and if you—w-wait, what are you doing? wha-“
you lift your shirt up to flash him your naked breasts so he can shut up. and it worked. obviously. now, his eyes aren’t even looking at you but at his second favorite thing—after you— your lips stretch into a smirk when you see him freeze. jaw hanging open slightly.
“a-and you c-can’t” he gulps, becoming a stuttering mess as he struggles to maintain an eye contact. “c-can’t—like—just—fuck! this is unfair! what was i saying?!”
oh yeah, now you’re taking the W
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did this once with my ex and got fucked lol
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This au again lawl. Where Danny wears these special sunglasses to hide his eyes that also track down ghosts in his human form.
The Justice League tracks down a summoning for the ghost king, an eons old tyrant of the infinite realms and known to bring war and devastation whenever he is summoned.
The cultists do manage to summon the ghost king, except, not how they wanted. They did indeed summon the king, but Pariah Dark is still trapped in eternal sleep and somehow, just, somehow, they managed to draw the lottery and dragged the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep to the summoning circle.
So there the Justice League were, wondering what to do with the (currently) locked away and sleeping ghost king.
Until Constantine's coat flipped itself open and a boy with glowing white hair and a mist of blue blowing from his mouth.
"Old man." The boy greeted.
"Brat." Constantine said.
"Do you mind explaining why and how this," The boy gestured to the Sarcophagus. "Is here and not in Pariah's Keep?"
"Funny story, that one." Constantine said, only half-jokingly. He then went on to explain that the Justice League came to track down cultists, said cultists somehow managed to drag that here, and now they didn't quite know what to do with it.
The boy stood still for a moment, before taking off his sunglasses to pinch the bridge of his nose and sighed, a large amount of blue flame spilling from his mouth. "Ancients above, why is it every time something notable happens, it's always you?"
Constantine snorted, reaching into his coat for a pack of cigarettes and lighting himself one. "Hypocritical coming from you."
"I know, but still." The boy walked over to the Sarcophagus and sat on it, as if it wasn't the thing currently holding one of the most powerful ghosts in the infinite realms. "You know smoking is bad for you, right?"
"What, you learned that in class?" Constantine snarked, making no move to do anything and causing the boy to sigh again, toxic green eyes looked around the room, falling over each hero present before homing in on Flash. The boy pointed to him. "You. Come here."
"Whatcha want with red?" Constantine asked and the boy simply shrugged his shoulders. "Passing on a message."
The boy blinked once, and if he was surprised that the Flash was already in front of him, then he didn't show it. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a green sticky not, motioned for Flash to bent down and stuck it on his forehead.
Superman was... concerned. There was a heartbeat there, he could hear it, but it was so slow and seemed rather weak, like the boy was near death.
"Alright, now I gotta get old mean and green back to his keep before the Observants get on my case." The boy put back on his sunglasses and got up, waving Flash away and lifting up the Sarcophagus above his head he walked over to Constantine, whose face wrinkled.
"That ain't going to fit." The warlock pointed out and the boy scoffed, probably rolling his eyes behind his glasses. "And you've fit bigger things, just shut up and lift the coat old man."
Constantine did so, and somehow the boy just shoved the entire Sarcophagus inside. The boy was very obviously smug as the blue mist that was blowing from his mouth the entire time petered out. "I'll clean up the mess on my end," The boy said before waving his hand in the Justice League's general direction. "You deal with all that."
"Just get going already, I'm not about to get those sentient eyeballs on my ass."
"Yea, yea. You got enough to deal with as is." The boy then stepped inside Constantine's cloak and as soon as the man let it drop, he disappeared.
Constantine looked around the room, silently assessing the situation as he brought another cigarette to his lips.
He lamented the fact he would have to deal with this sober.
#dc x dp#dp x dc#dpxdc#dp x dc crossover#dcxdp#dc x dp crossover#Just so ya know#Danny ain't ghost king or prince#Just normal halfa here#Haha#Where does Constantine's cloak lead?#We may never know.#Just know that Danny can come out and go into it#Because I thought it was funny
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tasty (heeseung)
summary: it’s not your week and it doesn’t seem like the semester will ease up on you as time flies by, but your best friend is here to help in more ways than one.
word count: 5.6K
notes: based off of this request. thank you anon! I probably won’t open a taglist at this time but I’ll let you know if I do when I post other fics. XX
warnings: reader touches herself, porn mentions, vibrator mention, phone sex, oral (f. receiving), dirty talking, mentions of heeseung with other girls, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex.
“You sure you don’t want to go out with us?”
Your co-workers stare at you while you try to push down any simmer irritation. They’re not to blame, but pestering you to go out to a bar and get drunk when all you want to do is go home, is making you even more irritated. They mean no harm and look at you with sorry eyes.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” you tell them. Luckily for you, they nod and accept your decline. “Thanks for the invite though.”
“Well if you change your mind, you know where to find us.”
In typical twenty-something-year-old fashion, certain days feel longer than most. Today is no exception. It’s hard to navigate the woes of landing on your feet when you’re wrapped up in midterm projects and trying to have a social life without throwing yourself off balance. When the semester started, you were nothing other than a happy-go-lucky, fourth-year university student who was excited to finish college and take the first step towards “real life.” Unfortunately for you, your days would get tough before you’d see it to the finish line.
The ride back to your apartment isn’t long by any means but the traffic from your job at a convenience store was met with rush hour. The bus took much longer than usual but you always anticipate that when you’re scheduled until 5pm. Everybody’s going home at the same time and even public transportation falls victim to the hustle and bustle of corporate life.
On your way home, you can’t help but linger on the inconveniences of the recent past. Midterms have snuck up on you like they do every year and no amount of studying into the night could ever prepare you for the stress that comes with obsessing over good grades for five separate classes. It kills you that no two tests weigh the same and preparing for projects feels like you’re signing a death sentence. You’ve barely seen your friends aside from in passing and haven’t had any time to take care of yourself and have fun.
It feels as though you’ve lost all motivation because school and work has sucked the energy right out of you. Even your best friend, Lee Heeseung, has started to soften up around you because he can tell how stressed you are. If anything, the amount of unread texts from him and your absence in his physical life is a telltale sign that school is kicking your ass, but he knows you always bounce back. You know you will too, but right now it feels like it’ll take too long to get there.
The first thing you do is take all of your clothes off and settle them in the dirty hamper and take a shower, cleaning off the grime from a long day outside of your bedroom. Your hair is clean and your skin feels silk to the touch when you step out and dry yourself. It takes a great deal of effort to follow through on your skincare routine and tidy up your room so that it doesn’t feel like an overwhelming mess the more you look at it. Today sucked. There’s no doubt about that.
Eventually, the clock turns into a late hour after you’ve had dinner and a sweet treat to make up for the awfully long and boring day you had. The week drains on you and you’re looking forward to the weekend because that means you don’t have to work. After settling in bed with the television on, you try your best to let your worries escape you and focus on what’s in front of you.
Whether the show is too boring or you’re too worked up, you don’t know. The TV is long forgotten as you aimlessly scroll through your phone and start pushing your thighs together and clench around absolutely nothing when you log into a Twitter account you don’t post on. It must be out of habit to act like this when you see the familiar username because it’s where you keep your porn stash for when you need to get off. There’s everything you could ever want–short videos, photos, and links to other websites that always gets you off. The long day has made you think about how you need at least a single win in order for this week to not completely suck. Bringing yourself to orgasm might be the way to do it.
You spread your legs underneath the covers and take a finger to tease up your slit that’s covered by your panties and hold your phone in your free hand, using your thumb to scroll past the plethora of videos that turn you on. It’s all about finding the right one, and seeing big dicks and wet pussies makes you worked up. You start to forget about the week and consider that a good start.
Moving your finger against your covered pussy always makes you wet. You imagine it’s someone else teasing you the way you like it and pretend you don’t need to move a muscle to get off. Swiping the tips of your fingers back and forth makes you soak through the pathetic fabric anyway, and the excitement of your arousal makes you gush right onto your panties.
You scroll through them one by one and pull your panties to the side to feel just how wet you’ve become and moan quietly as the feeling of your slicked up walls. Pushing a finger inside, the welcomed sensation is exactly what you needed after a hard week. You add two, then three, and pump them in and out of you with your legs bent towards your chest. It should be an easy orgasm.
Except, it isn’t. Three of your own fingers isn’t enough.
At this rate, you don’t know how long you’ve been rutting your hips but what you do know is that you can’t seem to get yourself off with just your fingers. Pulling them out makes you wince at the loss and you force yourself off of your bed to find your trusty vibrator that has always served you when you need to get off quickly. You dig for it in the depths of your drawers but, to your dismay, the device is uncharged. You’re far too worked up to wait for it to become usable. You crawl into your bed again and angrily look through your phone at the porn in your bookmarks and try to get yourself back to that state of euphoria when you started touching yourself, but knowing too much is bothering you is preventing you from letting go.
Your room echoes as you groan in frustration when your eyes land on a photo on your desk. It’s a picture of you and Heeseung that Jay took when the three of you hung out together after you first moved into this apartment. The two of them helped move boxes and furniture, and you rewarded them with a free meal from the noodle shop across the street. Heeseung sits next to you with his thighs pressed against yours because of the small table but neither of you really cared.
That’s the thing, though. Heeseung isn’t shy about physical touch with you or anyone else. He’s the kind of guy girls feel comfortable around with just a few words spoken and you’ve always envied the way Heeseung can talk his way through anything. People love him, girls want to fuck him, and guys want to be like him. There’s a part of you that wishes you could exude the same aura that your best friend does but, unlike him, you cower at any chance of interaction and can’t seem to get anyone to be interested in you the way you’re interested in them. Heeseung has heard your fair share of love debacles whereas it seems like romance is presented to him with the snap of a finger.
It isn’t that you haven’t had experiences with sex and dating, but they haven’t been worthwhile. So far, nobody has been memorable enough to keep in your backpocket for days like this, when you need a hot and erotic memory to come in an instant. It feels impossible to find guys who know what they’re doing when a woman is presented in front of them. Guys are so lucky because it takes next to nothing to get them hard and get them off.
And like, your best friend has had his fair share of hookup stories that leave you wetter than a goddamn fountain. He’s not shy about skimping the details because he’s seen you cry snot since kindergarten and you’ve seen him eat shit on bicycles since elementary school. Sex isn’t off the table. You just don’t have anything to contribute and he doesn’t judge you for it. You aren’t really keen on telling him about all of the bad experiences you’ve had when he talks about how mind blowing sex for him is. Part of you is envious that your best friend has never had one bad day of sex in his life. Allegedly.
Still, this frustration bubbles up and there’s nothing you can do to quell the way you feel. Perhaps it’s a mix of general life stress and the events leading up to this very moment. The entire day felt like a test to your patience as minor inconveniences piled up on top of one another before your breaking point. You thought your vibrator sitting uncharged was your last straw but it seems like your mind isn’t clear enough to focus on getting off. You recall a few unread text messages from Heeseung and open your shared text thread with him and watch all of the funny TikTok videos and tweets he sends you. You’re missing him right now.
Heeseung answers after one ring.
“Back from the dead, I see. What’s up?”
You huff. “Nothing.” You hear him laughing from the other line. The faint sound of his keyboard clicking echoes in your ears.
“Can’t be nothing. You always call me when you need to tell me something.”
“Not true.”
“Y/N, you and I both know you prefer to talk on the phone when you have something important you need to say so neither of us ends up sending long voice memos.” Okay, he’s got you there. “So begs the question: What’s up?”
“Well I called you because I’m bored. Happy?”
Heeseung laughs again. You’re sure he can hear your disdain. “It’s a good thing I know how to deal with your attitude, huh? Since you’re bored, I’ll have you know you’re calling me while I’m playing with the guys.”
“What, no girl to hook up with?”
“Not tonight, princess.”
“How sad.”
“If you must know why, I had a pretty long day at work but I’m fine now. Jake’s ass keeps dying so that’s pretty funny.” You don’t say anything, not right away. Not when you realize you called him in a haste and that you’re naked except for a tank stop and dainty white socks. The realization makes your cheeks heat up as you think about it, even though Heeseung can’t see what you’re wearing. “You good? You’re unusually quiet, especially when you give me attitude.” That makes you roll your eyes.
“You know, it’s unfair that all you have to do to get off is brush your hand against your dick.”
“Where’s this coming from? You don’t really talk about sex. Is everything alright?”
“It’s unfair!” He hears you groan in frustration. You’re somewhat annoyed he’s still typing away on his gaming keyboard.
“Y/N…Are you okay? What’s gotten into you?”
That question alone seems to ease your mind a little as your irritation bubbles over the surface. You couldn’t stop yourself from talking even if you tried. You tell Heeseung everything, good and bad, and he won’t relent until he knows you’re okay. But even this is treading into new territory. It isn’t that you haven’t noticed just how attractive your best friend has gotten since you met him for the first time as kids, but it’s the first time you’ve ever acknowledged it while talking to him.
“I can’t get myself off.”
Your voice is barely above a whisper. You don’t hear the sound of his keyboard anymore.
“What?”
“Heeseung…”
“No, say it again.”
Suddenly, you’re starting to regret calling him to complain about something like this. You feel like you might as well be diving into the depths of your secrets.
“I can’t get myself off.” He hears you whisper it into the phone.
“Did I hear you correct? You can’t get yourself off?” Heeseung curses under his breath and his hands have stopped typing on his keyboard completely. Frustration pushes tears to the rim of your eyes.
“I can’t.” Your voice wavers like you’re about to choke a sob. “I just want to cum, Heeseung.”
You don’t see it, but he disconnects his video game connection without consulting his friends. He sits back in his seat and brings the phone off speaker mode and pushes it to his ear. “Y/N…Have you been touching yourself?”
“Yes. I don’t know why but I’m in this mental block and I can’t focus on anything. Nothing is helping.”
He chokes. “What do you mean?”
“My vibrator is dead and I’ve been using three fingers but it’s not helping!”
Heeseung sits quietly on the other line. “Are you touching yourself now?”
“No,” you sigh. “I’ve been at it for an hour and I can’t finish.”
“Fuck,” he mutters. “You must be so wet.”
“Not anymore.” You say it through your teeth, too upset that your high has ebbed away.
“You should start touching yourself again.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Touch yourself and make your pussy all wet.” It’s concerning how much you like hearing your best friend talk to you like this. But you do, putting your phone on speaker and putting it on the mattress beneath you with your hand caressing your pussy. You don’t know if it’s you, Heeseung, or the notion that you’re crossing a bridge, but your spine starts to tingle. Your touch is as light as a feather.
“Are you doing it?”
“Yeah,” you admit.
“How does it feel?”
“Really good…”
“How good?”
“Feels like someone else is touching me,” you tell Heeseung. “If I close my eyes, I can pretend it’s someone else.”
“It’s not enough, is it?”
“No, Hee. I just…I’m so frustrated.”
“Yeah, baby?” He’ll address that nickname later. “Why are you frustrated?”
“School and work are stressing me out and nobody in my group projects lifts a finger. I feel so alone in this.”
“But you aren’t alone. You have me, remember?” You get wetter the more he talks. It feels wrong to be turned on by Heeseung’s voice but you can't help it. He’s talking to you like he hears the way your voice quivers and how badly you need somebody to take away all of your pain, and perhaps you feel comforted because you know Heesueng will do just that and always had. Your fingers rub your wetness around your bare mound the more you think about it, pushing aside any guilt or awkwardness you initially felt.
“When have I ever not been there for you? Never, baby. Including this.”
“This?”
He chuckles. “Yeah. Helping you cum.”
“Hee, don’t say that.”
“Why? It’s true. Best friends help each other cum.”
“How are you gonna help me do that?”
It’s silent on the other line for a long pause and your heart starts to sink when you think you might’ve crossed a line. Is he uncomfortable? Does he want to hang up and forget about this? Will he ever look at you the same way after tonight?
“Keep touching yourself. I’m coming over.”
Your eyes widen. “N-Now?”
“Yes, now. I live five minutes from you. I’ll be over soon.”
The thought of Heeseung coming over makes you impossibly wet. It’s been so long since you’ve let anybody touch you the way you’d like after failed hook ups that left you unsatisfied. Your bedroom suddenly feels warmer and your arousal keeps your fingers slick the more you rub against your pussy. It makes your toes clench and you’re starting to get excited again.
“Please hurry, Hee. My fingers are starting to get sore.”
“I’ll be there in two. Don’t hang up.”
“F-Fuck,” you whimper silently. Heeseung’s phone picks up your moan and you hear him let out a low groan when he turns his engine on.
“You have the sexiest moans. I wanna hear them while you get yourself off, okay? Can you do that for me?”
You rub your pussy faster. “Yes, Hee. Fuck, I’m so wet. This feels so good.”
“Be a good baby and play with your clit a little for me, hm? Get her all nice and prepped.”
You do as he says, moving the pads of your fingers in circular motions around your engorged nub when he tells you. Your eyes close shut when that jolt of pleasure makes your body jerk and arch off of the bed and that loud sound emitting from the back of your throat makes Heeseung hum in approval.
“Juuust like that. Fuck, you sounds even better than I imagined. You’re a vocal one, huh?”
“Only when it feels really good.”
“Yeah? Do you feel really good?”
You lick your lips. “It would feel better if you were here.” Heeseung laughs.
“I’m here and I’ve got your spare key. Keep fucking yourself for me.”
The call ends there. You hear the door opening and part of you considers using your blanket to cover yourself up because in all of the years you’ve been friends with Heeseung, he has never seen you this indecent. It feels a bit humiliating to know your best friend will find you with your fingers rubbing against yourself while your hips chase that delicious pleasure but ultimately, you can’t find it in yourself to care too deeply about that.
Heeseung’s footsteps alert you to his presence and you’re pleasantly surprised to see him standing in the threshold of your bedroom after he’s opened your doorknob. His black hair covers his eyes as he catches his breath, and it looks like he ran up the two floors just to get to your apartment quicker than an elevator could take him. He’s hesitant when he walks inside until his eyes lock with yours. Your next moan comes from deep within your chest and Heeseung wastes absolutely no time.
He lands on his knees and pulls your body towards the edge of the bed. Your scent invades his olfactory senses as he looks down below you, pushing your feeble hand away to admire the mess you’ve made of yourself. It should feel embarrassing to have your best friend look at you like this, but it doesn’t. Your heart beats faster the more Heeseung’s eyes scan your wet pussy and before you know it, his mouth latches onto you.
The feeling of someone’s tongue shoved deep within you is a feeling you haven’t experienced in a long time. Heeseung kneads your thighs with his hands as he keeps you in place and the pace he sets makes your body feel like it might as well be up in space.
You hear stories all the time about Heeseung hooking up with other girls whether it be from himself or others. Girls love to pretend to be your friend to get close to him and love to talk about these kinds of things with you because they assume you’re getting in on the action too, only to leave the conversation perplexed when you tell them you and Heeseung have never gotten involved like that. But now, with every bit of information about how he slurps pussy like he needs it to live, you’re starting to wonder why you never asked him to do this before tonight.
“Tasty,” he mutters after a beat of silence. Your hand comes to grip his hair for stability when he pulls your clit into his mouth and sucks on it while rubbing his tongue against your pleasure point. “How come you never told me you taste so good?”
“You never asked.”
He laughs against your pussy. “Still got some attitude, huh?”
“What are you gonna do about it?” He looks up at you like he’s weighing a challenge.
“If you were any other girl, I’d pull out every time you’re about to cum. I’d have you begging for that shit. If you were somebody else, I’d stuff your mouth with my cock until you learn how to obey.” He licks up your pussy once more before adding two of his fingers inside, moaning at your smooth and wet walls as he pumps them inside of you. “But you’re my best friend and you’ve had a hard week. I’m gonna make you cum.”
If a thousand suns exploding feels like Heeseung’s tongue and fingers working in tandem with each other, then this is a feeling you never want to forget. They work separately but it feels like he’s pushing you closer and closer to the finish line the more he pays attention to your clit and g-spot at the same time, pressing on that little button the more you whine and aimlessly beg for him to let you cum. You can barely register your own voice moaning because the pressure is too much against your ears. Heeseung’s fingers plunge in and out of you at a pace that is somewhere between gentle and brutal, giving you enough force to take your mind off of the stress from the week to focus on your pussy being pleasured.
You screw your eyes shut when you can feel that coil unraveling. Heeseung seems to notice that too because of the string of moans you let out when he pushes his fingers against your sweet spot. His mouth licks and licks as his hand pushes your wetness right against his tongue and it doesn’t take very long for him to taste your cum.
Heeseung’s head disappears between your legs and he’s barely able to move his hand because of how tight your thighs are against his ears. He’s always loved your thighs and legs, and loves them even more now that he knows what it feels like when you suffocate him as he licks up your delicious cum. You ease up on him when he pries them away to free his hand from the uncomfortable position and uses both hands to keep your legs apart as he licks up the remnants of your cum and helps you ride out your orgasm until your chest falls against the mattress.
He wipes the back of his hands before giving your slit a gentle kiss. “You’re so sexy when you cum.”
“I can’t believe I let you do that.”
“Why?”
You watch him crawl up your body between your spread legs. “Because…”
“Because?”
“You’re my best friend and we’ve seen each other through everything. Don’t you think this is a little, I don’t know, weird?”
“No.” Heeseung shakes his head and dips below to kiss the corner of your mouth. “Not weird. In fact, I’d argue we should do this more often.”
You frown. “I don’t intend to be somebody you keep on a roster, Lee. You can keep that shit to yourself, but thank you for helping me cum.” Heeseung laughs against your mouth until you feel his lips ghost right over yours.
“There won’t be other girls involved if we fuck, Y/N. I’m not heartless like that. Everybody else knows I’m in it for sex and nothing else, but it’s like you said. You’re my best friend. I won’t make you feel like you’re just somebody I can hit up.”
“So this would be like…friends with benefits?”
“We can work out the semantics later.” He lets his lips touch yours and when you don’t object, Heeseung opens your mouth with his own and you taste the saltiness of your cum on his lips. You clench around nothing when you hear your mouths smacking together in the quiet of your bedroom.
It feels…good. It doesn’t feel out of place, even though this is the first time you’ve kissed Heeseung. You haven’t thought about it much either, but somehow his lips fit perfectly in yours and his soft hands holding your body in his adds to your arousal. You feel safe with him at this moment and it’s the first time you’ve ever had sex with somebody who hasn’t made you feel like an afterthought. Your mind feels a bit foggy but you know you like this feeling and don’t want him to stop. Still, you have your worries.
“This won’t be weird, will it?”
“No, baby. In fact, all you had to do was ask me to drop the other girls and I would’ve.” You roll your eyes.
“Sounds like you’re in love with me, or something.”
Heeseung pulls away and smiles down at you. “Yeah. Or something.” You ignore the way your heart flutters and realize his bulge is poking your bare pussy.
“You’re hard.”
“So you’ve noticed.”
You pinch his bicep. “You get hard eating pussy?”
“Well yeah because it’s pussy, but it’s also you.” You start to talk but Heeseung silences you with a kiss. “Are you satisfied now that I’ve made you cum?”
His vulgar words make you shy underneath his gaze all of a sudden. It’s a new feeling and you’re not quite sure how to navigate it, especially with the way he’s staring down at you with a raised eyebrow. Heeseung is still your best friend who gives you shit for everything. You suppose you’re grateful that he’s not changing who he is just because he knows what you look like naked.
“You know what? Actually, I don’t think I’m satisfied.”
Heeseung grins wickedly and pulls his body off of your chest to take his shirt off, his chiseled muscles on display for you to look at. He grabs your hand and places it on his abdomen. “Oh yeah? What else can I do for you, princess?”
You take your fingernails on his skin and feel his abs move beneath you. “I think I need you inside me too.”
“Were my mouth and fingers not enough?” You shake your head. Heeseung tuts as he gets off of the bed to step out of his pants and boxers, revealing a long and thick cock you’ve only ever heard about. It’s dripping with precum and you can’t stop your pussy from clenching or your mouth from drooling.
You watch him get back on the bed one knee at a time before he’s hovering over you again, pulling your body to the position he wants as your legs spread before him. He looks down at his cock and tugs on it twice before letting his tip rest against your clit.
“Need some of my cock?”
“Yes, yes!”
“Who knew my best friend has such a tight pussy. Makes me wonder why I even bothered with other girls in the first place.” You seem to like hearing that. He brings his fingers to push the head of his cock inside of you before sinking halfway in, allowing you to adjust to his size as you squeeze him. “Oh yeah, honey. This pussy’s gonna make me cum hard, I already know that.”
Heeseung holds your legs open and pushes his hips into you slowly. The drag feels so good with how warm he’s made you and you can feel him throbbing with every pass. You hold onto your breasts for stability, which seems to turn him on even more because he’s pushing your legs towards your chest and pushing into you with all of his might.
You’re able to see him from where you lie. His eyebrows concentrate as he squeezes his eyes shut and sweat lines his forehead the more he thrusts inside of you. He sits up on his knees to angle his dick inside of you better and moans when you let out a strangled groan. The clench is so tight and amazing, and Heeseung can’t fathom why he’s never fucked you before tonight.
“Sexy pussy,” he grunts, looking down at your abused hole as he thrusts into it. He brings his thumb to your clit and you yelp when he starts to rub it. “So wet and fuckable.”
“Fuck me,” you manage to choke.
And truthfully, you like Heeseung plowing into you at the pace he’s set. He’s not too fast but not too slow and you can feel him hit your cervix every single time. It’s no wonder girls were always lining up to have sex with him. Heeseung knows what he’s doing with his dick and you’re finding that out now.
“You want me to fuck you?”
You nod pathetically. “Please fuck me.”
“How hard?” You bite your lip and shake your head at the humiliation of begging for him but Heeseung tuts and smacks your clit with his hand. “I said, how hard?”
“So hard that I feel you in my stomach!”
“Atta girl. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Heeseung slips out of you and pulls you up on your hands and knees, beckoning your back in a deep arch. He plants both of his feet on the mattress and bends until he’s sinking his cock back down inside of your pussy, letting your mixed wetness coat him again.
He thrusts himself as his mouth hangs open. Heeseung grips your waist with both hands and squeezes you hard to balance himself as he throws his head back at the phenomenal sensation of your walls pulling him in every time he tries to pull out. Your eyes roll to the back of your head when you feel his balls against you and clutch into your bedsheets.
“Your balls are slapping against my pussy and it feels really good,” you manage to get out without stuttering. Heeseung feels you clench around him again and emphasizes his thrusts until the sound of his balls makes your ears vibrate.
“Feels good when it hits your clit, doesn’t it?”
“So good, fuck!”
Heeseung speeds his thrusts and relishes in your string of moans the more his tip nudges your g-spot. “Can you cum, baby? Cum around my cock like I know you want to. You’ve earned it after this week. Cum for me. Won’t you let me feel that?”
“Fuck, fuck, I’m cumming, Hee! I’m fucking cumming!”
“Yeahhh. Oh your cum is so good. Doing so well, making your pussy creamy all over me like that. Cum for me.”
And it feels so good that you follow his command. The orgasm Heeseung’s cock brings you feels like a physical manifestation of letting go of your worries and enjoying the present moment. Despite your legs and pussy aching, this feels an awful lot like freedom because your own mind isn’t caged by the inability to get yourself off.
You don’t think, you can’t think. You’ve reached a point of nirvana that’s made your mind completely blank with the exception of your orgasm and the feeling of your best friend fucking right inside of you. His cock, so hard and warm, somehow feels so perfect lodged inside of you.
Heeseung cock twitches and you feel it the more he pounds into you. He looks down and moans at the sight of his cock becoming white with your cum with every pointed thrust and doesn’t remember the last time he truly enjoyed himself to the point of being able to forget about everything except the person he’s with. Sex with other girls is incredible but there comes a point where he realizes that they’re using him just as much as he’s using them. But you, his best friend since he can remember, give him some kind of peace that he’s never felt before. This is more than just a quick fuck, even if neither of you address it.
“Your pussy’s gonna make me cum,” he moans through a choked grunt. “You feel so good baby, fuck.”
Heeseung pulls out of your hole just enough to rest his tip against you. His warm cum floods against your folds and your body jerks at the way he twitches against you, but his hands keep hold of your hips to place you exactly where he wants you. He looks down to watch his cum spill from his slit and paint your pussy like the artwork that it is.
When he’s finished cumming, Heeseung leans back against his knees to spread you apart by gripping your asscheeks. “Would you look at that?”
“Stop looking…”
He chuckles. “Why, baby? Your pussy’s so pretty with my cum on it.”
You look back at him. “Yeah?”
“Oh yeah.” He nods at you before pulling away to scour your room until he finds a box of tissues on your nightstand and grabs a few to clean you up to the best of his ability before cleaning himself up too.
Overcome with a wave of tiredness, your body feels much more relaxed once you’ve slipped underneath the covers as Heeseung throws away the dirty tissues. He turns around when he hears the blankets ruffling and resists the urge to coo at you when you’ve tucked it underneath your chin.
“Looks like you needed one good fuck to relax, hm?”
You blush. “Shut up.”
“No can do, Y/N.”
“I…”
Heeseung leans down towards you and tilts his head. “You what?”
You avert his gaze. “I liked it when you called me baby.”
“Yeah?” He pushes some of your hair back as you yawn. “I can do that.”
“Are you gonna go home?”
“Not if you let me stay the night.” You don't have it in you to talk back to him after all he’s done for you. Instead, you open the covers as Heeseung puts his boxers back on and watch him smile before climbing in next to you. “Come here.” He tucks your body on his chest and you’re too tired to argue with him.
His heartbeat puts you to sleep.
tagging: @zara2318 @markmato @heechwe @horijiro @ggumjilgeong-yjn @porunarefuu @leov3rse. :)
#enhypen smut#heeseung smut#lee heeseung smut#enha smut#heeseung x reader#enhypen x reader#enhypen hard thoughts#enha hard hours#enhypen hard hours#enha hard thoughts#lee heeseung x reader#heeseung#tasty
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Arcane Characters Make Food for You
Pairing: Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn, Maddie, Ekko, Vander, Silco, Sevika, Viktor, Jayce, Mel x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, established relationship, domestic fluff, kissing, making food, teasing
Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters
A/N: I already wrote this on my old blog but now is a good time to re-write it.
Jinx knows how to cook pretty well, surprisingly enough. Or maybe not so surprisingly given how she's always the one making things and experimenting. However that also means she might make some really weird meals.
It's something you'll have to deal with if you're with her and might have to develop a strong stomach. She already has it because she grew up in Zaun and ate a lot of different things. For you she wouldn't recommend some of them yet and she will try her best to make something that you'll like. And she won't get too offended if you don't eat her cooking right away.
"I made ya some breakfast, ta-da! It's a little sticky but don't worry, eat your fill and I'll clean up the mess later. Don't look at it like that, it might not look pretty but I promise ya it's so good. I could eat this every day. I hope I'll get to eat it together it with ya every day, sugar."
Vi doesn't know how to cook because she never had the opportunity to learn. The first few dishes are bad, like really bad, almost burn the toast and eggs type of bad but Vi she isn't the kind of person to give up. She'll keep trying until she gets it right.
There have been times where she did burn things and she won't let you eat it since it's not right. She wants you to have the best of the best, even if she didn't. Might get a little distracted when you're in the kitchen with her so she prefers to cook by herself even if you're there with her. Regardless of how many times she gets it wrong she at least wants to learn to cook your favorite.
"Yes, this is burned toast but this time it's not my fault, it's yours. Well you're the one who walked in here looking all cute and distracted me. One kiss is all it takes if it's from you, sweet stuff. Sit down and let me do this right and if you do you'll get something sweeter than this."
Caitlyn knows how to cook really well. She did grow up with people doing the cooking for her however she was curious and wanted to learn how to do it on her own. She's a very hand-on learner, now she can use some of her skills to make you happy.
She gets up really early anyways so she might as well make breakfast for the both of you. The first time she brings you breakfast in bed she thinks your reaction is cute, the way you stare at her, eyes wide and drooling over the food. For her it's not odd to have breakfast in bed. And if you stick with her you'll get used to her pampering you. Be sure to tell her how the food tastes.
"Good morning, darling, I brought you something. See, I didn't just brag about my cooking skills, this is me showing you I can cook. Showing off? Suppose I am a little bit, it's not my fault you didn't really think I would bring you breakfast in bed."
Maddie can cook some dishes but she can cook them well. Her skills aren't anything impressive but they don't need to be because she can get take out too. But she is more than happy to share what ever she makes with you.
She falls back on take out more often than she would like to admit. However not when she invites you over to her place, then she will put her best foot forward. A lot of that is because she wants to impress you hard, but it also gets her to work on her skills either way she wins. She keeps looking at you very intently while you take that first bite. Thankfully she doesn't seem to do a bad job if your smile is anything to go by.
"I'm not weird for watching you eat, it's called being smitten, gorgeous. Anything you do is interesting to me, you know that by now. This isn't empty flattery. I already got you to eat my cooking, I don't need to butter you up at this point."
Ekko isn't the best cook out there, he will be completely honest with you. While he does know the basic things you can't really expect anything fancy. If anything he focuses more on the dish being filling than tasty.
The thing about him cooking for the two of you is that he can only do it on his free time, which isn't a lot. Therefore he wants to make it a bonding activity. A cute date of sorts, mostly in the late evening when the rest of work is done. Sometimes he will try to surprise you but its hard when his living space isn't that big and everyone knows everything in the Firelights. The gesture counts.
"There wasn't much time so it's pretty simple, but at least it's your favorite, Firefly. No, I actually finished the new project, I had extra time to kill. Please, don't thank me! It seemed only right for me to make you something after you cheered me up this morning."
Vander knows how to cook really, really well. He kids to raise, and he was on his own for a very long time, he had to become a good cook. Plus he makes awesome drinks, being a good cook was a bonus skill for him.
He's always the first one to wake up and start the day in the Last Drop and he always makes breakfast for everyone. Not just breakfast but every meal, his kids need to eat a lot, there's always a little left over for later. Even if he feels a little sleepy himself he at least wants to put something on the table. It's the dad instincts in him. And husband instincts, hopefully.
"Don't ya even think about sneaking up on me right now, darlin'. I've got a pan full of sizzling hot oil in my hand, I don't want it all over us. Hugs are fine, I always love ya being close to me, but keep your hands to yourself. We both know ya get handsy in the morning."
Silco didn't know how to cook before he adopted Jinx, since then he's had to learn. It wasn't easy but now he does know a lot and he can impress the woman he's dating. Now when you stay over you can expect good for for your date, and good food when you wake up.
When the dating gets more serious he lets you help him cook, but until then he pretty much does it on his own. Jinx will go nowhere near the kitchen alone, not after that one explosion. He does have a list of recipes that he makes the most. And a few that he made up. Sometimes ingredients are hard to come by so he needs to improvise.
"Pass me the flour would you, love? This time I will follow the recipe, yes, the last time there was a bit too much sugar in there. I know you liked it but it's not the healthiest thing now is it? Fine, call me a worried dad, I know you think it's attractive."
Sevika isn't able too cook that well, she never was, she always liked others cooking for her though. However when you tease her about it she takes it as a challenge. And you know damn well that she doesn't back down from a challenge.
Curses a lot when she messes up, though you can bet that she's not gonna let food be the thing that beats her. When you walk into the kitchen it's a mess which will take a while to clean up. But at least she managed to make the dish this time and it's quite good. For her hard work you give her a very passionate kiss and that just makes her wanna work harder. That's the best reward she can ask for.
"One kiss for at that work, doll? I think I earned myself a little more than that, maybe you on the table instead of all this food. Yeah, I know it's gonna get cold, you're right. Can't let all this hard work go to waste, but when we're done we have to work all that food off."
Viktor doesn't have as much time to cook as he could if he worked a bit less. Not that his skills are award worthy but he can make a few things, at least in his opinion. Give his cooking a chance.
When he was a student in the academy he had to learn how to make quick meals and that is where most of his strength is. Just very simple dishes but he knows how to make them well. There are times when he himself forgets to eat so he makes sure he gets a good meal when he can. If you're part of that that's even better. Having you eat his cooking makes cooking more fun.
"If you think cooking this is so easy then you make it will you, beautiful? Ah so now you like it, I see how it is. I'm just kidding, I love making food for you when I can. But if you want to make it yourself please let me do a taste test first. I promise to be brutally honest, just like you are with me."
Jayce has absolutely no skills in the kitchen unless you need him to fix or build things in there. He knows this too and will admit it right away. Trust him he is much better in science than in cooking food.
That being said he will join you in the kitchen when you cook. He takes an interest in it because the way you cook makes his mouth water. When he learns about what your favorite food is he wants to lean how to cook it. However he does this in secret because he wants to surprise you. Sure enough he's able to get the biggest smile out of you when he presents you with your favorite meal.
"I learned it secretly, all for you, babe. Well I am quite good with my hands and I enjoy working, that was just another excuse to learn. Of course I don't have an ulterior motive for it! But if I did... and if it was kissing... would you kiss me for doing a good job?"
Mel is actually an amazing cook and knows a ton of recipes. Including your favorites of course. Do you really think she'd invite you over and offer you nothing to eat?
It's been a long time since she had to cook for anyone but herself but she's not bad at it at all. She has high standards when it comes to good food specifically because she holds herself to high standards. It doesn't matter how simple or complicated the meal is. When she invites you over and offers to make you food you better believe you're eating good that night. Not strictly food either.
"Beloved, slow down a little, the food isn't going anywhere and neither am I. We have all night. Every time I make food I do so because I want to enjoy a good meal, and you should too. And please be careful, I don't want you to choke, on the food that is."
#arcane x reader#jinx x reader#vi x reader#caitlyn x reader#maddie x reader#ekko x reader#vander x reader#silco x reader#sevika x reder#viktor x reader#jayce x reader#mel x reader#arcane imagine#arcane headcanon#arcane fluff#arcane x you#league of legends x reader#league of legends imagine#league of legends headcanons#league of legends fluff#league of legends x you#arcane x female reader#league of legends x female reader#x female reader#arcane#league of legends
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Heyyy, it's me again, but this time we're talking situationship!Simon—aka the biggest fuckboy you'll ever meet. Honestly, girl, I have no idea why you're still putting up with him!
you can’t even define what you two have, but one thing’s for sure—he knows how to use his dick, and you're both free to mess around with whoever you want. but of course, you had to fall for him, for that stupid smile he swore only you were special enough to see, for the gentle touch that lingered on your skin during those rare nights when he stayed longer than usual. you fell for the way he made you feel like you were the exception, even though deep down, you knew better.
you fell for how he made you feel like you were everything, even though he’d always leave just as quickly. he knew exactly how to keep you hooked—giving just enough to make you believe in him, but never enough to make it real. you wanted more, but every time he left, you remembered that his promises were as short-lived as his visits. still, you couldn’t stop going back, hoping that maybe this time, he’d actually mean it.
but he never did. you’d have fun for a few hours, but then he’d leave, acting like you didn’t exist around everyone else. he’d flirt with other girls right in front of you, not even bothering to hide it when he left with them, almost like he wanted you to see.
and every time, it hurt a little more, but you couldn’t bring yourself to end it. you told yourself you didn’t care, that it was just fun, but deep down, you wanted to be the one he stayed with. yet, no matter how much it hurt to watch him with someone else, the moment he came back, all that anger faded, and you let him in again, caught in the hope that maybe someday he’d truly see you as more than just a temporary fix.
one night, you tried to have a serious conversation with him, hoping that if you laid out your feelings, he might finally understand. but he dismissed your emotions with a shrug, listing reasons why he didn’t want a relationship: he was too focused on his career, he wasn’t ready for commitment, and he just didn’t want to deal with the complications. simon insisted that keeping things as they were was the best option for both of you.
afterward, as you lay together, a clear realization hit you. even though you were physically close, you couldn’t ignore the emptiness you felt. that night you made a silent promise to yourself: this would be the last time you let him in, and the last time you let yourself be trapped in this cycle.
and, being the dumb man he was, simon only came to realize what he had lost after you were gone. a few weeks after your last conversation, he saw you a few times out with other guys, laughing and flirting as if you were moving on. it hit him hard—a painful mix of jealousy and regret. he realized that he missed you, but at the same time, he knew he had no right to these feelings. not after treating you the way he did.
he managed to keep his calm for a few more days, but the weight of his regret grew unbearable. finally, he snapped and called you into his office late one night, claiming he needed to discuss the upcoming mission with you.
as soon as you walked in, simon felt his heart tighten in his chest. seeing your face calm, confident, like you had already moved on, stirred something deeper than he expected. there was no trace of the vulnerability you used to show around him, no lingering affection. he realized, in that moment, just how much he had pushed you away. regret surged through him, sharper than he imagined, and he knew this conversation wouldn’t be easy.
after talking about unimportant stuff for a few minutes, simon took a deep breath, trying to steady his voice. “i know i messed up, and i’m sorry for how i treated you. i’ve been thinking a lot about what happened, and i realize now how much i regret it. i was wrong to push you away.”
you looked at him, your expression guarded. “it’s a little too late for apologies, simon, don't you think? you had plenty of chances to get it right, and now you’re just trying to fix things because you see me with someone else.”
he tried to reach out, his voice softening. “i know it’s not enough, but i want to make things right. i can’t stop thinking about what we had.”
you shook your head, stepping back. “you had your chance, and you threw it away. i’m not going to be your second choice or your backup plan.”
"y/n-"
"no, simon!" you sighed, closing your eyes briefly to gather your thoughts. when you spoke again, your voice was steady, "you know, some people never fade from memory. they leave a mark that lingers just beneath the surface, no matter how hard you try to move on. but to be honest, i’m not in the mood for any more humiliation or heartbreak. so, this is my final goodbye to you."
you could sense that he wanted to say something, but you couldn’t let him speak before you had your say. “go ahead and fill your life with new faces, as if i were nothing but a distant memory. enjoy your freedom and let others wear you out as they please. i’m done being part of that. keep moving forward, and if you ever try to reach out, know that i’ll let your calls go unanswered. for now, i’m celebrating the end of our chapter.”
even as he heard you declare the end, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he still wanted you in his life. he was stuck between guilt and the lingering hope that maybe he could still fix things. despite your rejection, part of him struggled to accept that he had truly lost you, and he felt powerless to change the situation or let you go.
simon’s face twisted with a mix of desperation and anger. “you think you can just walk away and erase everything we had? you think you can move on and leave me behind like I’m nothing?” he took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but his voice was filled with raw intensity. “don’t fool yourself, i still want you, and i won’t just let you go. you’re mine, whether you like it or not. i know i’ve made mistakes, but i’m not done fighting for what we had. if you think you can find someone better, go ahead. but know this: i’ll keep groveling and doing whatever it takes until you take me back. i’m not going anywhere, and i’ll make sure you remember what we had.” he took a step back, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, and ran a hand through his disheveled hair.
you just smirked, turning on your heel to leave. as you reached the door, you glanced back over your shoulder with a cold, confident look. “i can’t wait to see you on your knees,” you said, your voice sharp. then, you walked out, leaving him alone with his mess.
game on.
(I WANT HIM TO GROVEL FOR MONTHSSSS)
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@daydreamerwoah
#simon ghost riley#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon riley#simon riley imagine#simon ghost riley x female oc#simon ghost x you#simon riley angst
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angsty fight between miguel and wife!reader
and then they make up yayayayay
Give Me Reasons We Should Be Complete
✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader
✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ Miguel has been pushing you away for some time now. After a talk with a friend, you and Miguel try to sort things out.
✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “DANCING IN THE DARK” by Joji. Writing this made me think back on past crushes/lovers. But thank you for your request! I am also holding back on writing smut because it keeps getting labeled and it takes me longer to write.
✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 1.4k
✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, angst-to-fluff, swearing, Miguel is kinda a dick head, mentions of sleep deprivation…
Want more Miguel content? Check out my MASTERLIST!
You stood in his cold and dark office. The best source of light was his laptop but his huge frame blocked most of the light. You managed around the crumbled paper and thrown desk objects with a plate in hand.
“Miguel?” You peer over his shoulder, “I made you dinner.”
He nods.
“You know you haven’t eaten since yesterday.”
He nods again.
“And you know that you’ve been here for a long time. I think it’s best for you to-”
“Take a break?” Miguel interrupts you, “I don’t have time for that.”
“Miguel, I’m sure whatever it is, it can wait a few minutes. All I’m asking is for you to eat something.” You try to set the plate down.
“I thought I made it clear that I do not want to be bothered. You’re distracting me. Leave.”
He didn’t mean it like that… He didn’t mean it like that. He didn’t mean it like that. He didn’t mean it like that…
“But Mig-”
“I said go.” He growls, his eyes turning its blood red from anger, “You’re becoming a nuisance.”
He didn’t mean it like that.
“Okay.” You tried not to let the crack in your voice show. You didn’t even bother to leave the plate behind because you knew it was going to be wasted.
“And don’t bother me again.” You heard him say as you left his office.
You took deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down before you burst into tears. But your hands shook, nearly dropping the plate.
You choked down your sobs and let your tears fall, the plate was left in the fridge, and you pushed yourself to your bedroom. It was basically yours now since Miguel was sleeping in his office.
The sheets no longer lingered on his cologne and any sign of his presence was gone, other than his clothing and a few photos. The room has become a mess of discarded clothing, old plates and cups, and candy wrappers.
How long has it been since Miguel showed affection? Or even looked at you?
This was normal behavior for Miguel, right? You should know, you’re married to him. You’re his wife. But he experienced loss, unlike you. You didn’t want to judge him for how he deals with his emotions, he’s emotionally distant. You knew that from the start.
And because of this, you felt like he deserved more than what you could give him. It’s what kept you going through the many times Miguel tore your heart, how it squeezed in pain at his actions and words. How you look the other way and ignore his hurtful words.
You couldn’t sleep. You left the still cold bed and dressed in something warm and headed up to the roof.
You sat on the edge, looking at Nueva York. How beautiful it looked during the night, which is one of the reasons why you liked sitting up here.
“Sitting all by yourself?” You tense up only to relax when you know that voice, “At this time? All alone?” Peter B. lands next to you, his daughter in his arms.
“I would ask my husband to join me but he’s too busy.” You respond truthfully.
“Again? He’s been at this all week.” He sits next to you.
“Yeah.” You huff.
“And… how are you holding up?”
“I’m fine.”
“Really? Because it doesn’t look like it.” He offers Mayday who reaches out to you.
You take her and set her down on your lap, “I just don’t know what to do, everything I do seems to bother Miguel. Checking up on him, bringing him food. It feels like he’s doing this on purpose.”
“Miguel’s always been difficult and from the time I spent with him… He’s different, not like the rest of us. He’s accepted his fate as Spider-Man and believes he’s destined for bad things 24/7. But good things do come along, like you. I think… I think he’s trying to come to terms that he can get it because he deserves it.”
Mayday coos, pulling at your hair, “And I think Miguel is scared. He puts on his tough act because he has to, yet he’s afraid to admit he’s scared. Normally, people would’ve given up on him. Why haven’t you?
“Till death do us part. I don’t want to lose him. I don’t give up on him because when you love someone, you love them every single day as who they are.”
“Talk about romantic.”
“Oh please.” You look down at Mayday, “Plus I think-”
“There you are.” You jump and this time, you remain tense, “I was looking for you.”
“Now you’re looking for me?” You respond, refusing to turn your head.
“It’s late, (Y/n). It’s dangerous.”
“I’m here, she’s alright.” Mayday jumps into her father’s arms.
“I’ve already had enough of you. Please, (Y/n).”
“It’s fine.” You tell him, following Miguel inside.
You head to the bedroom, “Where are you going?”
“Bed.”
“(Y/n)-”
“I’m tired and I do not want to be bothered. That includes you too, Miguel.”
“Excuse me?” He follows you into the bedroom.
“You heard me.”
“Please, (Y/n), talk to me.” Miguel begs.
“I’m sorry, did you just say talk? Like I have been trying to do for the past week?”
“(Y/n)-”
“You know what? No, no. You do not get to try to get me to talk after all of this. I have been trying, I have been all in. All I asked of you was to look after yourself.”
“I know.”
“You know? You KNOW?” You scoff rather loudly, “Did you know that Lyla has even talked to me about your behavior? I’m worried about you Miguel. All the damn time, even more when I see you not eating and staying up all night. All I ask is one minute, one bite of the damn food.”
“I’m… I’m so sorry.”
“Is sorry all you have to say? Not even a half assed excuse?” You see Miguel trying to form a sentence but nothing leaves his left and his head hangs low, “I need to be alone.”
You walk past him but he grabs your arm, “Please don’t leave.” He says, “Please don’t walk out that door.”
“I’m sleeping on the couch, you could have the bed.” You look up at him.
“I love you, (Y/n). I know I don’t say it as much but I fucking love you. He’s right, you know. I am scared. Scared of everything. Because at first, I didn’t think I could have that, have you. You let me hurt you and that is unforgivable.”
He’s crying. Looking right at you, letting himself be bare right in front of you. His grip on your arm loosens and his hands come up to your face, cupping your cheeks. You could hear his staggered breathing, trying to keep himself composed.
“But I wasn’t lying when I said I love you, I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted a family, and I wasn’t lying when I said that you make me believe in love.”
“I’m always here for you, Miguel. You don’t have to go through things alone, but when you want to, I’m here.” You take one of his hands into yours, pulling it away from your face but keeping a tight hold on it.
“It’s not that easy. I hurt you, I understand why you don’t want to.”
“I love you, Miguel. We’ll work on this. I promise you.” After a moment, Miguel practically tackles you, nearly falling to the ground. The hug is tight and warm, and you could feel your shirt become wet with Miguel’s tears.
“You’re okay, right?” His voice cracks as he speaks through his sobs, “Please tell me you’re okay.”
“I promise you, I am okay.” You whisper.
“I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”
“You can start by getting some rest. But you’ve got a lot of apologies O’Hara.”
You don’t know how long you and Miguel stayed like this, nor did you care. All you cared about was Miguel and he felt complete at last.
© 2023 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform with permission.
#x reader#x female reader#fluff#angst#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o'hara#miguel o’hara#spider man x reader#spiderman 2099 x reader#spiderman x you#spiderman 2099#spiderman x y/n#spider man across the spider verse#spider man 2099#spiderverse#spider man x y/n#spider man x you#spiderman x reader
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gym rat roommate!seungcheol
— WARNINGS: smut, seungkwan accidentally catch you naked (seungcheol's fault), oral (f. receiving), seungcheol cums untouched, ''begging'', reader tries to be unbothered as seungcheol eats her out, mentions of anabolics jokes and etc. — WC: 3.2k
you never thought sharing a dorm with a leo would be this damn exhausting. when you both got assigned to the same room, you thought it’d be fine—no big deal, just another dude trying to get through college, right? wrong. seungcheol is the textbook definition of a gym rat, spending half his life lifting weights, and the other half driving you insane.
“can you not leave your towel on the bed?” you huff, staring at the damp mess he’s made.
“it’ll dry,” he shrugs, not even bothering to look up from his phone.
“not the point,” you mutter, tossing the towel into the bathroom.
and then there’s the cabinets. oh god, the cabinets. every time he makes his stupid whey protein shake, it’s like he forgets how to close them. it’s a small thing, but it drives you up the wall.
“are you allergic to shutting doors or something?” you ask, eyebrow raised as you gesture at the open cabinets.
“didn’t realize it bothered you so much,” he says, smirking, which only makes you want to strangle him more.
but the stove? that’s where you draw the line. the dude can wash dishes, sure, but he leaves the stove looking like a battlefield, grease splatters and all.
“seriously, seungcheol, you gonna clean that or what?” you snap, pointing at the mess.
“i’ll get to it,” he replies lazily, which means it’s gonna sit there until you can’t take it anymore and do it yourself.
you two bicker like this all the time, the tension simmering just below the surface. it doesn’t help that he’s constantly complaining about your hair everywhere, or the makeup you leave on the sink when you’re rushing out the door.
“do you shed on purpose?” he grumbles, vacuuming for the third time that week.
“do you have to be such a neat freak?” you shoot back, rolling your eyes.
and don’t even get started on the tv. whenever you switch from his boring sports channels to something decent, like a reality show, he acts like you’ve committed a crime.
“i was watching that,” he says, voice low and annoyed.
“yeah, well, this is more interesting,” you retort, settling in for your dose of drama.
the only time you get any peace is when he’s at the gym, and those hours are like heaven. just pure, blissful silence. and for him? the few hours when you’re at your dance classes must be the only moments he’s not silently cursing your existence.
you always wished for a quiet roommate. not that seungcheol was loud—no, he wasn’t a screamer or anything, but his friends? they never left. you couldn't catch a break from the constant parade of guys stomping through your shared dorm like it was their second home. jihoon, one of seungcheol’s quieter friends, was looking for a new roommate at one point, and you almost packed your bags right then and there. the guy was a dream—silent as a ghost and didn’t have a herd of dudes wandering around the place like it was a frat house.
but nope, you were stuck with seungcheol, who never bothered to warn you before letting his friends take over the living room.
and that’s how you ended up in this mess.
seungcheol had left a few minutes ago for the gym, and you were enjoying the peace, taking a long, hot bath. everything was fine until you realized—you forgot your towel. with no one home, you figured it’d be safe to dash to your room and grab it. big mistake.
thinking the coast is clear, you slip out of the bathroom, water dripping off your skin, and make a dash for your room. just as you reach the hallway, freezing your ass off, you hear it—a rustling from the kitchen. before you can even react, seungkwan rounds the corner, a cup in hand, and both of you freeze.
“AHHHHH!”
you both scream like you’ve just seen a ghost, or, you know, each other naked. you bolt for your room, slamming the door shut behind you.
you can hear the guys in the living room getting startled, their conversation cutting off abruptly as seungkwan yells, “don’t come in here! for the love of god, stay put!” you imagine him standing there, one hand clapped over his eyes, traumatized for life—or not lmao.
from the safety of your room, you yell at the top of your lungs, “CHOI SEUNGFUCKING-CHEOL!”
you don’t leave your bedroom until you’re absolutely sure they’ve all left. you can hear them shuffling around, and then, finally, silence. when seungcheol knocks on your door, you yank it open, eyes burning with rage, and immediately start pounding on his chest.
“what the hell did i do?!” he asks, bewildered, as you keep landing blows on him, your fists connecting with his chest repeatedly.
“what the fuck, seungcheol! i’m going to fucking kill you!” you hiss, your voice barely keeping it together.
the boys who are just leaving freeze at the front door, eyes wide, before they scramble to get out, closing the door behind them in a hurry.
“whoa, whoa, what’s going on?” he stammers, trying to catch your wrists, wincing with each hit.
“what’s going on?! you seriously asking me that right now?” you shout, not giving a damn that he’s confused. his clueless expression only makes your blood boil more.
“i wasn’t even here, what are you talking about?” he says, sounding defensive, and it nearly makes you explode.
“you didn’t even fucking bother to tell me your friends were still here! i thought i was alone, seungcheol!” you scream, your voice reaching that pitch where even he starts to look worried. “and now seungkwan’s seen my fucking ass!”
his eyes go wide, shock written all over his face as he stares at you. “wait, what? seungkwan saw you naked?!”
“yes, you idiot!” you practically screech, your face flushing red with embarrassment. “he saw everything, and you’re to blame!”
“alright, alright, calm down,” he says, though his voice is anything but calm. “just… stop screaming for a sec, will you?”
“don’t tell me to calm down!” you snap back, but your hits start to lose their strength. “i can’t believe this is happening. fuck, i’m never gonna live this down.”
“it’s not that bad,” he tries, but you can hear the strain in his voice, as if he’s trying to convince himself as much as you.
“not that bad? not that bad?!” you glare at him, hands on your hips now, chest heaving. “seungkwan saw my naked ass, seungcheol! you have any idea how fucking mortifying that is?”
he bites his lip, and you can see him holding back something—probably a retort, maybe even an apology. but it doesn’t matter, because deep down, a part of him is seething for a different reason altogether.
“you’re not getting off that easy. i swear, if this ever happens again, you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life. i don’t care if i have to tattoo a schedule on your forehead, you’re gonna tell me when your damn friends are over!” you snarl, storming back into your room and slamming the door shut, leaving seungcheol standing there, more than a little terrified.
your luck was that seungkwan kept his mouth shut and didn’t tell anyone. he even apologized to you, which, honestly, wasn’t necessary since it wasn’t his fault to begin with. when he showed up at your door, looking sheepish, you waved off his apologies.
“it wasn’t your fault, seungkwan,” you say, sighing. “i don’t even know why you’re apologizing.”
“i know why,” seungkwan mutters, and you catch the way his eyes flicker toward seungcheol, who’s hovering behind him, looking a bit too innocent.
“he made you do this, didn’t he?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at seungcheol.
“are you really gonna scold me in front of my friend?” seungcheol whines, crossing his arms.
“it was your fault,” you and seungkwan say in unison, causing seungcheol to groan dramatically, dragging a hand down his face.
the next few days, you’re still so mad—the embarrassment has lightened, but the irritation lingers. you ignore seungcheol’s existence entirely, which seems to throw him off more than your usual bickering. but the result? the boy falls right into line. cabinets? closed. towels? hung up neatly. the stove? spotless, along with the dishes. it’s like he’s scared to mess up again.
he even starts working out at home, right in the middle of the living room, just so there’s no risk of his friends dropping by when he’s not there. every time you walk by and give him a dismissive huff, he sulks, pouting like a kicked puppy.
“you’re really not gonna talk to me?” he asks one day, mid-push-up, his voice a little too whiny for someone who usually acts so tough.
you don’t even bother to respond, just let out another huff and keep walking.
“come on, y/n, i’m sorry! what do i have to do, beg?” he calls after you, his tone half-joking, half-desperate.
you pause, glancing back at him, his big eyes pleading with you. you almost crack but manage to keep your composure.
you huff, slumping onto the couch, grabbing the remote to turn on the tv. seungcheol scoffs as he watches you, getting up from his spot and kneeling in front of you. you ignore him, your eyes glued to the screen, but you can feel his presence, and it’s hard not to notice how ridiculous he looks, sarcastically begging for forgiveness.
“y/n, come on, forgive me, pleeease,” he drawls out dramatically, hands clasped together like he’s praying, his voice dripping with mockery.
you finally tear your gaze away from the tv, raising an eyebrow at him. “go drink your protein shake, cheol,” you say, your tone dismissive.
he rolls his eyes, placing his hands on your knees, and there’s something in his touch that makes you pause. “okay, okay, for real now. can you please forgive me?”
your eyes drift down to his hands, warm and firm on your kneecaps. he notices the way you’re staring and moves his hands to rest on his thighs, waiting for your response. you stay quiet, taking in the sight of him kneeling in front of you, looking almost vulnerable.
when he thinks you’re going to ignore him again, you finally speak up, your tone dripping with mockery. “do you really want my forgiveness, cheol?”
he hums in frustration, rolling his eyes again, as if he’s bracing himself for another sarcastic remark.
you let a small smirk play on your lips. “then why don’t you make the most of being on your knees, and put that mouth to better use?”
his eyes widen in shock, your unbothered expression leaving him stunned. you can see the gears turning in his head, but before he can even respond, you slowly spread your legs in front of him, your attention casually returning to the tv.
seungcheol nearly freezes on the spot, almost losing his balance as he processes what you just said. but the sight of you, open and inviting, has him swallowing hard, his throat bobbing as he struggles to maintain composure.
he doesn’t know where to start, caught between the shock of your command and the thrill that’s been building up inside him for ages. he hesitates for a moment, then reaches under your dress, his fingers grazing the edge of your panties—the ones he’s already had a peek at earlier. you keep your eyes glued to the tv, acting like you didn’t just ask him to do what he’s been fantasizing about for far too long.
seungcheol’s never been one for preliminaries; that’s just not his style. so instead of teasing, he pushes your dress up, exposing more of your thighs, and hooks his fingers around the waistband of your panties, tugging them down. his breath catches when he realizes you weren’t prepared for this—you’re not wearing the usual lacy things he often sees in the laundry, and you’re not wet—yet.
his hands are firm under your legs as he spreads them wider, leaning in closer. the anticipation coils in his gut as he spits on your pussy, watching the wetness slowly glide over your folds. you squirm just a little, the sudden sensation making you shift, but your eyes stay focused on the tv, pretending this isn’t affecting you.
the sight of you like this—so casual, so indifferent—only makes seungcheol more determined. he dips his head down, his tongue dragging a slow, deliberate line along your slit, tasting the mix of his spit and your skin. the thought that seungkwan got to see you naked before he did burns in the back of his mind, fueling his movements.
he starts off slow, almost gentle, but the more you keep ignoring him, the harder he goes. his lips wrap around your clit, sucking it hard enough to make you gasp, though you try to keep it quiet. he can feel your resolve slipping as he works his mouth on you, each stroke of his tongue more focused, more intense.
seungcheol’s goal is clear: make you forget about whatever the hell you’re watching on tv and finally give him the attention he craves. he wants to see you fall apart because of him, to know that he’s the one getting you off like this.
he moves one of his hands to your thigh, squeezing it as he bobs his head, sucking your clit harder with each motion. finally, you can’t take it anymore. your head tilts down, and you meet his gaze—his big, dark eyes looking up at you so fucking needy. the sight of him, lips slick with your arousal, head moving rhythmically between your legs, makes your jaw fall slack.
your hand instinctively reaches for his hair, fingers tangling in the strands as you grip him tighter, urging him on. seungcheol hums against your clit, the vibrations making you moan, your focus entirely on him now. the tv is forgotten, the show nothing more than background noise as you finally give him what he’s been aching for—your full, undivided attention.
his tongue flicks over your clit—fast, almost unbelievably so—and your body reacts instantly. your back arches off the couch, toes curling, and your grip on the remote tightens. you squeeze it so hard that buttons are pressed at random, the tv screen flashing through channels, the volume going mute, settings changing. but none of that matters anymore. the only thing you can focus on is the way seungcheol’s tongue works against you, driving you absolutely insane.
he grabs your hips, holding you down because you’re squirming too much, trying to grind against his face despite the overwhelming sensation. every time you move, he digs his fingers into your skin, a low groan vibrating against your pussy. your breath comes out in shaky moans, and even though you can barely string words together, you start talking dirty to him anyway.
“f-fuck, seungcheol—y-you're so fucking good at this, fuck—”
your words are laced with moans, stuttering as you try to form sentences. “y-your tongue... oh my god, i hate you—i fucking hate you,” you gasp, but the way you’re grinding into his face tells him otherwise. “i s-swear, you're gonna make me cum s-so fast, you asshole.”
the filthy words spilling from your mouth only fuel him more. he’s close to losing it, just from the sound of you, from the way you’re cursing him out between moans. his tongue flicks faster, relentless, and he watches the way you react, loving the way your body shakes under his control.
“y-yeah, just like that, don't stop—oh, fuck,” you manage to gasp out, your voice rising as he pushes you closer to the edge. he’s so turned on it’s almost embarrassing, the way you’re unraveling beneath him making him throb painfully in his pants. your filthy and breathless talk, your taste and the way youre wetting his tongue more and more, makes him feel like he could cum right there, just from the way you moan his name.
he’s obsessed with the way you’re falling apart, and when you start tugging at his hair harder, he knows he’s got you right where he wants. your head falls back, the tv now nothing but a silent, blurry background, and all you can focus on is the feeling of his tongue, his mouth, the way he’s devouring you like it’s the only thing he’s ever wanted.
“god, fuck—cheol, i’m so fucking close,” you moan, your body trembling as you teeter on the edge. he flicks his tongue faster, sucking hard on your clit, desperate to make you cum, desperate to feel the way you’ll fall apart completely because of him.
seungcheol’s hips grind against the corner of the sofa, desperately seeking some kind of friction. when he feels your breath catch, your voice going silent, he risks a glance up and sees you—your mouth open, almost like you’re ready to take him in, and your hand gripping his hair with an iron grip, showing no mercy. the way you’re spasming on his tongue, the tension in your body, it all pushes him closer to the edge.
he lets out a long, whiny moan against you, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, and then he can’t help it—his mouth slips from your clit, leaving it throbbing and aching, as his hand rushes down to grab his cock. he presses his thumb against his slit through his sweatpants, feeling the dampness already soaking through. he’s so turned on it’s almost painful, his hips bucking against his hand as he lets out a moan into the soft skin of your thigh.
“fuck, seungcheol,” you pant, spreading your legs wider, acting like you’re not just as turned on by the sight of him falling apart in front of you. “you really came that fast? i didn’t think the gym rat would be such a quick shot,” you tease, your voice dripping with mockery. “what, the anabolics making you weak or something?”
his eyes snap up, and he shoots you a glare, knowing damn well he doesn’t use that shit. “shut the fuck up,” he mutters, trying to sound pissed, but the effect is ruined by the way his voice shakes.
you smirk, your gaze mocking as you look down at him. “then stop whining and get back to work,” you command, your tone sharp. “or do i need to find someone else who can actually handle me?”
seungcheol’s jaw clenches, eyes stabbing you as he leans in again. he bites down lightly on one of your folds, making you jolt and laugh, the sound quickly turning into a moan as he resumes his task.
“that’s more like it,” you say, voice breathy, threading your fingers through his hair again, a satisfied smile on your lips as he starts flicking his tongue over your clit once more.
he grins against you, feeling the vibrations of your moan as you finally let go, focusing entirely on the pleasure he’s giving you. it’s a game for him now, teasing you just as much as you’re teasing him, determined to make you lose control all over again. the sound of your laughter + your moans is the only thing he needs, spurring him on as he buries his face between your legs, eager to make you come undone for him, and only him.
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— ★ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: afab!reader. dry humping. premature cumming. ok it’s his first time, he’s trying. reader is a tease. 0.8k words. MDNI. 18+ only.| masterlist
Virgin!Alhaitham who is known for being one of the brightest minds to come out of the Akademiya in years. A genius in his own right who can speak over 20 languages and executes everything he tries to perfection. But still has one thing that’s completely out of his realm: sex.
He acts like it’s no big deal, shrugging off the idea of casual flings just to get his dick wet. It was beneath him, a pointless distraction from his personal goals. Instead, he turned to erotic literature, dissecting it for information like he would any other subject. It’s still educational, he reasons, a way to learn without getting tangled in something that would just waste his time.
But then Virgin!Alhaitham starts dating you, and suddenly everything he’s learned doesn’t seem so abstract anymore. He’s thorough, methodical— he thinks he knows enough to ensure his first time with you goes off without a hitch. And yet.
The first time you grind on his clothed cock, he was unprepared for the intensity, the friction, the heat— before he knew it he was already twitching and soiling his pants, his face flushing with embarrassment as he squeezes his eyes shut, white-knuckling your thighs at the realisation that he just came prematurely.
“Did you just cum?” You ask with a playful lilt in your voice.
“I didn’t mean to…” he mutters, slightly mortified.
But really, who could blame him? You’re too much for him. Too beautiful. Too sharp. Too incredible with just the right amount of taunting. The way you look at him is overwhelming. Every touch leaves him on edge and every kiss is so sloppy because he wants you so badly, he can barely think straight.
It happens again and then again after that. No matter how much he tries to keep his cool, to stay calm and focused, he can’t handle it. You make his brain fog up, his thoughts scatter, and he curses himself because all he wants to do is fuck you without cumming at just the sight of your pussy.
However, you don’t let him off the hook that easily. After he’s ruined his boxers, you love to tug down the waistband and admire the mess he’s made, smearing his seed on your fingers and licking it clean with a grin. Just give it a minute and his cock will be hard as rock all over again.
When he finally manages to put it in you, it’s with one big, unexpected thrust. He can’t help it— the way your walls gripped the tip sent his hip jerking forward as it moved on instinct.
“I’m… sorry,” he breathes out, though there was no regret in the way his cock throbbed in you.
And the worst part? You know exactly what you’re doing to him. You bat those pretty lashes at him, feigning innocence while you’re driving him wild, watching him try not to nut just from groping your tits and hearing you sigh his name with that breathy, sweet voice.
He’s in over his head and you’ve completely flipped the script. Alhaitham has spent his whole life being the one in charge, always knowing what to do, but with you, he’s just a bundle of raw, needy energy.
And now— he burns with a desperate need to fuck you harder, faster, to feel every inch of you clenching around him that he’s completely lost in it. You’ve made him realise how much he’s been holding back and now he’s ready to give you everything he’s got.
So when he starts thrusting, it’s deep and unsteady, driven by hunger he’s never felt before. And poor Alhaitham, so out of his element, feels his usual self-control slipping away with each thrust. He thinks the least he can do is stay quiet, to maintain some semblance of composure. But then you whisper in his ear, telling him he can be as loud as he wants.
And the moment those words reach him, he breaks, unable to hold back the sounds that had been clawing at his throat. He lets out strings of groans and grunts, each one rougher than the last, filling up the room with his lewd noises.
He’s determined to keep going, to fuck you senseless but you’re so wet and tight, you’re damn near milking him. Between your occasional praise and begging him for more, he finally snaps with a guttural moan, burying himself inside you. His body trembles as he spills into you but even then, he doesn’t stop. He keeps moving, slower now, to savour every last second, despite the sensitivity.
When it's all over, he collapses on top of you, so utterly spent. All those late nights he allowed himself to indulge by jerking off at the thought of you, feeling a little guilty while trying to imagine what it would be like, was nothing compared to the real thing.
As he lays there, panting and dazed, he tells himself that this will be a problem.
Because now he can’t do it any other way. If this is what he wanted, he was going to have to get better at it. And being the diligent person that he is, there is only one way to improve: practice.
And who better to practice on than you?
a/n: the idea of virgin!alhaitham has me breathing into a paper bag
© 2024 grimmweepers — do not repost, copy, translate, modify my work on any platform
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