#mans got perfect eyesight

[hemlock-dreams]

does this peter still need his glasses? or are they just another cover?

(by the way, since im sure you would neverrrrr tire of hearing it, OHMYGOD he's so hot like WOW. that first coloured drawing of him at the bar you highlighted alllllll the right spots.... absolutely fantastic what a heartthrob)

You are absolutely right, i never get tired of hearing that ppl like Hunting!Peter!!!! (Thank you so much <3) (I channeled all my thirsty to him)

And...

Can't be a hunting spider without perfect vision and nightvision! The glasses were a gift from Uncle Ben, and he keeps them on for sentimental reasons.

And they help with the cover!

[starlightxsvt]

Sibilance. | j.ww (M)

synopsis ➳ ❝ he is always getting in trouble and it is your job to get him out each time. the problem is, the more time you spend with him, the bigger trouble it becomes for your heart. in the end, who will get you out? ❞

pairing ➳ lawyer fem!reader x rich badboy!wonwoo

genre ➳ smut, slight angst, good girl bad boy trope ig

word count ➳ 4.9k + 800(patreon bonus)

warnings ➳ mentions of fighting, injuries, bruises, reader wears glasses, dom!wonwoo, big dic!wonwoo, messy makeouts, degradation(he calls her a sl*t during seggs), unprotected intercourse, reader is lowkey down bad for him(aren't we all), male oral(reader's first time giving bj), slight nipple play, cream pie, rough sex, no aftercare, open ending ;D

A/N: yes this is a repost

You step out of the police station, the click of your heels echoing against the smooth, shiny floor leading down to some stairs. With your phone pressed to your ear by your shoulder, you shove the documents into your bag and try to zip it closed, all while listening to the Chairman, your richest client over the phone.

“Yes Chairman, I will get him home right away.”

The call disconnects as you manage to zip your bag, a sigh of relief falling from your lips. You allow yourself a moment to breathe, a moment to inhale a lungful of the cold night air. After how hectic the past hour has been, the only thing you need right now is a drink and a solid eight hours of sleep.

However, you will not be getting any of that.

You find Wonwoo standing a few feet ahead of you, his back facing you as he waits there with his hands in his pockets, kicking stones on the ground and looking around with boredom.

This man is the creator of the biggest chaos. He should come with a neon sign flashing on his forehead that reads “trouble.”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself to deal with him without losing your professionalism. “Mr. Jeon, let me drop you home.”

The tall man turns around as you approach him, and a wide, mischievous smirk graces his lips, “How many times have I told you not to call me that, Princess Lawful?”

Pushing your frames up your nose bridge, you narrow your eyes at him, not appreciating his hearty attitude.

“I don’t get paid enough for your bullshit, you know.” You comment under your breath, reaching into your pants pocket to search for your car keys.

“Oh please,” he rolls his eyes. “You are like what— twenty seven? And you have a five figure income monthly.”

“Whatever,” you grunt, fishing deeper into your seemingly endless pocket before finally finding your key. Wonwoo comes closer to you and casually snakes an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to his body, his firm chest bumping against your arm as you stiffen up from the contact.

“Don’t worry, I will ask my father to give you a raise,” he leans down to whisper in your ear, making your breath stutter. Despite the cold weather, you can feel your face heat up, the dangerous proximity messing with your brain. It is all too much— his touch, his smell, his voice, a lethal combination that makes your knees weak.

You look at the taller man, in the back of your mind wondering how you ended up here. After graduation, you were lucky enough to get a job at one of the most reputable law firms right away.

Maybe not entirely luck, but through your hard work. You had sacrificed your youth, eyesight and skin for the job as you came out the top in your class. The plan was to work nine to five and within a year or two, end up with a fat paycheck every month. Things were going according to your plan until earlier this year when you made a huge breakthrough in a very important case that even your seniors were struggling with. That got the attention of your company president, Mr. Pi who immediately had you put in the legal team of the Jeon family as a junior advisor. He said there was an empty position and you would be the perfect fit. He promised that the workload would not be too much as you would primarily assist the senior lawyers in their tasks and the pay would be good.

It was a mistake to believe Mr. Pi.

The first time you saw Wonwoo was in the early morning on a Monday, one week after joining the Jeon family’s legal team. As you were sneaking sips of coffee from your tumbler in a meeting room full of old men discussing boring things, Chairman Jeon, Wonwoo’s father barged in followed by the trouble stirrer himself.

Wonwoo stole your breath the moment your eyes met him for the first time.

There was something magnetic about him. Other than his drop dead gorgeous looks, broad shoulders and tall build, there was something in his aura, something in the way he walked and carried himself that charged a room with tension and stole everyone’s attention. Once his eyes locked with yours, he stood in front of the door for seconds that felt too long, the look in his fox shaped eyes changing. They flickered with mischief and some amusement as he tilted his head to carefully scan you, a subtle hint of smirk growing at his lips.

For a moment you had forgotten where you were, letting yourself get carried away in his hypnotizing gaze and attractive smile, the little nicks and cuts on his face increasing his appeal by a hundred times.

He was trouble. You knew it right away. You saw it in his eyes, the mischief, the defiance, the chaos he could not wait to cause. He was your polar opposite in every sense and you knew he picked up on it right away. And you also knew you would not be able to get him off your back.

That was indeed, true.

Wonwoo’s first ever case that you handled was assigned that fateful morning. His father gathered everyone to brief about the situation that went down. Wonwoo had gotten in a fight at a bar the previous night, breaking a guy's arm and it was your job to compensate and cover the issue as smoothly as possible.

It has been quite a while since then and for whatever reason, Chairman Jeon always ordered you to handle his son’s cases. Of course, you could not say no to him so for the last ten months you have been working like a dog, cleaning up Wonwoo’s mess everytime he got in trouble, which was often.

It was during one such time, about three months ago, after you had gotten him out of the police station, that the mistake happened.

You slipped and caused trouble for yourself, committing something that altered your course of life.

You slept with Jeon Wonwoo.

Things have been messy since then. Not for him but for you. He definitely has more control over you now, crossing your professional boundaries whenever he pleases.

You are left in ruins, emotionally.

Wonwoo is an attractive, complicated man and you can’t help that you are attracted to him. There is obvious palpable tension between the two of you but ignoring that, you know very well the type of guy he is.

He is not boyfriend material. He is not good for your heart.

Yet now, as your body is pressed against his in the cold winter night, you cannot prevent your heart from dangerously thudding in your chest, a heated feeling rising in your belly.

“Take me home, Princess Lawful,” Wonwoo says, squeezing your shoulder. “I had a long day, you know?” There is an innocent whine in his tone and you can’t help but wonder at his duality.

“Fighting people?” You throw an annoyed look at him, freeing yourself from his grip and marching towards your car.

“Among other things,” he chuckles, his tone is light and playful as he jogs to catch up to you.

Thirty minutes later when you turn off your ignition in front of his house, you look beside to see him asleep in the passenger seat. No wonder it was so quiet in the car. He sits with the seat reclined, arms crossed over his chest as he faces the window in his side, the black locks of hair falling over his eyes.

In the dim light coming from a nearby street lamp, you admire the man next to you, your hands instinctively reaching to touch his face. Once again, your heartbeats quicken, a lump forming in your throat when you try to analyze this strange feeling in your chest. The tip of your index finger brushes his cheek, right below a cut and his lips form a knowing smile.

Your blood runs cold as you snatch your hand back.

This bastard was awake.

His eyes open, the piercing gaze making your breath stutter in your throat. “What dirty ideas were you having, hmm?” He smirks, leaning closer.

You immediately duck your head low, fiddling with your seatbelt in the dark to yank it open.

“I knew you were admiring me.” He easily snaps off his belt and resting his arm on the armrest between the two seats, he tilts his head lower to meet your bashful eyes. “Were you going to kiss me, Princess Lawful?”

You inhale a sharp breath before your hand moves on its own accord, ready to slap him. Wonwoo, however, catches it, his bony fingers wrapping around your wrist in a gentle yet firm grip as you lock eyes with him.

As always, he is calm and poised, a lazy smirk on his face, looking like he has the entire universe and beyond in his palm.

Wonwoo has this effect on you, this weird thing where words get stuck in your throat and your brain fumbles. Right now is one of those as your eyes remain locked with Wonwoo’s hypnotic gaze, leaving you unable to look away no matter how much you want to. Slowly, he pulls your hand towards him, his lips to be exact, as you watch with horror how his lips come in contact with your knuckles.

Suddenly, it is sweltering inside the car even though it is below zero outside. You are brought under a spell as you watch with parted lips how softly, sensually Wonwoo’s lips trace kisses over your knuckles and the top of your hand. The sensation shoots tingles throughout your entire body and at this moment, Wonwoo could ask you to bring him the moon and you would do it.

“Come inside.” His voice is feather light but you know he demands it.

Fuck, no, you cannot let this go on.

You snatch your hand back, shifting in your seat to be as far from him as possible in this confined space.

“I have an early day tomorrow,” you object, not meeting his gaze.

“Oh come on,” He almost whines. “I am injured, you know.”

You turn your head to look at him with skepticism. He watches you with a pout on his lips, his eyes shining as if he is a child waiting for candy. It is a complete whiplash from his previous attitude.

“Don’t believe me?” He sits up straight, determined to prove something as he turns on the overhead light. Then pulling up his windbreaker and his turtleneck, he shows you his lower back where, on the left side there is a big, purple mark blooming.

You gasp, immediately pulling the material of his clothes higher to get a better look. “My god, how did this happen?”

“The guy pushed me real hard. Hit my back against this table.” He explains casually, fixing his clothes. “Come on now, help me treat it.” He announces, not sparing a glance at you as he gets out of the car, his movements relaxed and confident as if he is sure you will follow him.

You do so silently, matching his pace as he approaches his house, the faint crunch of gravel beneath your feet the only sound. He climbs the small steps leading to the front door, its polished surface gleaming in the soft glow of the single overhead porch light. The neighbourhood is very posh, with picture-perfect houses standing at equal distances, their elegant designs glowing softly under the street lamps. The chill in the air adds a crispness to the atmosphere, as the two of your footsteps break the silence where no one is stirring.

Wonwoo’s fingerprint unlocks the door with a beep and he immediately steps inside. The door remains open as you linger in the cold night air outside, hesitant.

“What’s wrong? Do you really enjoy standing out in the cold?” The man cranes his neck to look at you.

With a soft sigh, you step in.

The minute the door shuts closed behind you, Wonwoo’s mouth latches onto yours. He attacks you almost, passion overflowing from him as he presses you against the door in a frenzy.

You knew this would happen. Yet you came in.

There is no one at fault but you.

He shoves his tongue inside you, tasting your mouth like a starved man while his hands do a quick work to shake off your coat from your shoulders. The warmth from his body blankets you in an addictive sense of comfort, his hands moving to hold both of your wrists in a bruising hold against the door.

There is no escape.

Your body submits, relaxing against his as you let yourself feel every bit of the sensations. When Wonwoo pulls away, the space between the two of you charges with tension, the heat increasing with the way his dark eyes bore into yours.

“I have been wanting to do that for a while now.” He breathes, his voice gruff. He lets go of your hands and skims his fingers on your back, pulling down the zipper of your blouse.

Your lips are swollen, his bruising kiss lingering on your lips as you unconsciously lick them, trapped in the dark pools of his eyes.

You are so ruined.

Wonwoo takes a few steps back, his fingers working deftly to remove his windbreaker and his turtleneck. You see him wince due to the bruise when he moves his body and you stop him with a gentle hand on his arm.

“Maybe we should get a look at that first.”

Wonwoo scoffs and you know he will not listen to you. You are about to force him when he takes off his trousers that leaves him in his boxers only and all thoughts fly out of your mind when you see the bulge forming in them.

Wonwoo sports that cocky, insufferable look on his face. “Stop drooling, Princess Lawful.”

You frown, ready to refute when he utters the next words that stun you into silence.

“On your knees.” The playful expression is gone from his face as he looks at you dead in the eyes, palming himself through his underwear.

You are a frozen statue, waiting for him to repeat himself because there is no way he just said that.

“Don’t keep me waiting,” he grunts, yanking you closer to him by your arm. He looks down on you as you feel his breaths on your skin when he whispers. “Get on your knees. And take your top off. I want you to suck my cock. I want to see that nerdy face choking, messy with tears.”

Your throat is a dessert. Your eyes are wide with horror, your hands clenched into tight fists as you try to wrap your head around his dirty words. Wonwoo easily pushes you on your knees, your mind still trying to catch up with what is happening. He, in fact, removes your blouse for you, leaving you in your nude coloured bra as goosebumps break into your skin. His intimidating bulge stands in front of your face and you sense a rush of panic within you.

There is no way you can do this.

Fuck, this is your first time giving a blowjob to someone.

But you cannot let him know that. You would rather plunge yourself in the cold sea and get eaten by sharks. So, with the same determination that helped you finish law school with straight A’s, you set out to prove yourself. With trembling hands, you pull down his boxers and the image of his long, thick length is daunting, immediately making your throat hurt.

Wonwoo's hands snake around your neck, his fingers caressing the base of your low pony as he pushes your mouth closer to his dick.

Shy and unsure, you hold him using both hands, the hard, warm member a foreign sensation beneath your fingertips. Your tongue darts out, giving his tip a kittenish link.

“Stop playing,” Wonwoo warns. “You know how to suck cock, right? Or do I need to teach you that?”

Offended, you push your glasses up and wrap your lips around his tip, sucking on his precum. The breathy sigh that parts from Wonwoo’s lips indicates that you are on the right path. You continue sucking, covering more of his length, adding an inch bit by bit to get used to the feeling of him in your mouth.

Wonwoo, however, does not have the patience and he extends an arm to the wall to support himself while using the other to hold your neck as an anchor as he starts to thrust in and out your mouth in shallow movements.

“Fuck, you look so hot like this,” he pants, his eyes trained on your face, your swollen, spit coated lips wrapped around his length as you look up at him with doe eyes behind your steel frames. “This is my new favourite scene, Princess, you dressed for work and on your knees for me.” He grunts, increasing his pace, his thick length going deeper and making you choke.

The entire scene is so erotic, his filthy words paired with gurgling noises coming deep from your throat and tears that blur your vision. Between your legs, your pussy throbs with pain as an urge to touch yourself grows. You can not do that due to the layers of clothes still covering your lower half so you press your thighs together, focusing on getting him off.

You hollow your throat to the best of your capability and his length goes in deeper than before, prompting you to choke and pull back your mouth from him, bursts of cough coming from your lips.

In front of you, Wonwoo stands, panting harshly as he rubs his slick length, his dark eyes watching you wipe your tears and spit while trying to stop the coughs. “You look so hot right now.” He breathes, the dark depravity in his voice making you look at him.

“I want to come on your face so bad but more than that, I need to get my cock inside you. Fuck you so good you will feel me tomorrow morning when you are at your meeting.”

You can only blink as your pussy throbs at his promise. By now, you are sure that your underwear is a soaking mess.

“Stand up, Princess Lawful.” He orders with a smirk on his face. You immediately comply, standing on shaky legs. Wonwoo wastes no time to press your back flat against a nearby wall, his fingers rapidly working on taking off your belt. He unzips your dress pants and pulls them down halfway along with your underwear in record time. His eyes remain focused on your core and you shy away from his gaze, covering yourself with your hands. He immediately pushes them away and easily slips a finger inside your wet core.

“Oh god,” you moan, your eyes falling closed. Wonwoo scoffs, a cruel smile of lust kissing his lips as he whispers in your ear, “Fuck, look at you. You are dripping. Did sucking my cock turn on so much?”

You nod, an arm coming up to hold his shoulder, the firm muscles feeling so good under your touch.

“Say it,” he commands, using his free hand to grip your face in a firm hold, squishing your cheeks.

“Y-yes.” You whisper, chasing his fingers with your hips. You need him inside you so bad you are going insane.

“Good little slut.” He grins before lining himself up with your entrance and thrusting his entire length in one swift motion.

“Fuck!” The first thing you feel is pain, the entirety of his thick length shoving inside you so hard you swear you feel him in your belly.

Deep in the back of your mind, there is the sensible part of you who shakes her head at your desperation and carelessness. Even though you have an IUD, you still should have used a condom.

That is the issue, all common sense and logic fly out the window when you are near this man. That is why he is so bad for you, for your heart.

Wonwoo suddenly presses his lips to yours, breaking your train of thought. His tongue moves inside your mouth in tandem with his thrusts as your entire body jolts at the force. His fingers hold your ass and the back of your thighs in a bruising grip as he drives inside you mercilessly, each thrust harder than the last one.

You are going to come right away.

Wonwoo however decides to stop. His grip on you loosens as a harsh pant comes out of his mouth, his eyes scorching with animalistic lust.

Then, before you can question or protest, he roughly tugs on your arm, pulling you with him as you two cross the short distance to his bedroom. Standing in front of the bed, he unceremoniously pushes you on the soft mattress, murmuring. “Lie down.”

You do as told, shuffling back into the bed with confusion as Wonwoo fully takes off your trousers and your underwear.

“I can fuck you better like this, on the bed.” He grins as an explanation, making heat rush to your face. Not wasting time, he slides back inside you, a low groan of pleasure falling from his lips at your warmth. The sound makes your pussy clench around his length as a soft mewl falls from your lips when he hits that sensitive spot within you.

“Fuck, keep making sounds like that and I will come right now.”

You once again clench at the idea and a smirk graces Wonwoo’s lips. “You want that, no?” He increases his pace, his right hand tightly holding your waist while his left hand slips down a strap of bra from one of your shoulders, exposing your breast. He squeezes your breasts, pinching and tugging at your nipples which heightens your pleasure. You throw your head back, your fingers gripping onto his arms as you whine, “P-please, I want to come.”

“Such a good slut, begging so nicely.” He huffs, using both hands to grip your waist, his cock driving deeper inside you than ever before due to the angle. Your legs shake and your toes curl as you taste your orgasm coming. 

Wonwoo leans on top of you, covering your body with his as he licks his way from your collarbone and below, all the while moving in and out of you. His lips wrap around your nipple as he sucks and bites and finally the coil in your belly snaps.

Your body spasms, a loud cry of pleasure falling from your lips as you are thrown over the edge and taken away by your release. Wonwoo spurts inside you at the same time, his low groans of pleasure and strings of curses sounding like honey to your ears.

For some time, you find yourself lost in your head, your senses fading into the background. Time slips away as you enter a trance-like state, the aftershocks of pleasure radiating through your body and paired with the day’s exhaustion, you feel like you are floating away on a cloud of bliss and ecstasy.

After a long while, when you are fully back in your senses, you see Wonwoo lying beside you, his eyes closed. Judging from the way he is breathing, he seems asleep. 

The clock on the wall reads 10 pm.

A soft sigh escapes your lips as you sit up on the bed, your joints feeling sore.

You can not shake the overwhelming pity you feel for yourself.

This is what happens when you cross the lines with a guy like Wonwoo.

Alone and exhausted, an emotional mess as you drown in self pity while the guy that has ruined you physically and emotionally sleeps away peacefully. 

Even asleep, he radiates an exquisite beauty, bathed in the soft, golden glow of the lights that fill the room. As you gaze at him, you find yourself wondering what it might be like if this were love rather than lust—if you could stir his heart to race and flutter as yours does for him.

How silly. How pathetic.

With weary steps, you move through his house, first going to the bathroom to clean yourself before gathering your scattered clothes and putting them on. You are about to leave when you suddenly remember the bruise on his back.

With a sigh, you take an ice pack from the refrigerator and wrap it in a towel. Then you pull out the first aid kit from the bathroom cabinet, slightly annoyed to find it untouched and brand new, just like you left it a few months ago. He has yet to use it no matter how many times you requested him to. 

Shaking your head, you place the kit on the bedside table, taking out some compression bandage and a painkiller and placing them outside and within his view. Then, finding a sticky pad, you scribble some notes and stick them on the bottle of the pills, hoping he sees it and follows your instructions.

When you are done setting everything, the man is still fast asleep, his face squished against the mattress as he lies on his front. Gently, you tiptoe near him and peek at the bruise on his back.

He will be in pain later for sure.

Tentatively, you place the ice pack on his back before quickly stepping out of his bedroom. The towel will diffuse the chill so he will not wake up immediately, giving you enough time to leave. 

As you drive your car through the quiet neighbourhood, you make a promise to yourself.

This was the last time you crossed boundaries with him. 

You loathe this emptiness in your soul as you drive away from him late at night, feeling discarded after a quick fuck when all your heart desires is to lay in the warmth of his arms.

That is not your reality and you accepted it. 

From tomorrow, there will be no you and Wonwoo beyond the professional responsibilities that tie you together.

—

NEXT MORNING, 10 AM

As soon as the meeting is over you head for your office and sink down on your chair, sagging into the leather with a deep sigh of relief. The delicious aroma of the coffee heals you as you take a sip, a soft groan falling from your lips.

Today is going to be a long day. You definitely should have prepared better for such a day because being sleep deprived along with a throbbing ache between your legs is definitely not the way to go about it. 

You realize Wonwoo did keep his promise as you can still feel him between your legs, the memories and sensations of last night still too vivid. 

Shaking your head at the unwelcome thoughts, you begin pulling out all the necessary files from your bag and spreading them on your desk when there is a knock at the door.

You look up and before you can tell the person to come in, the door opens.

Wonwoo steps in, making your heart shudder as if the mere thought of him has summoned his physical presence.

He looks dashing as ever, sporting his signature cocky smile as he closes the door behind him. “Good morning, Princess Lawful.” He chirps.

Frowning, you push up your glasses, not finding his presence amusing. You remember the events of last night and the promise you made to yourself. Now is the perfect time to honour it. 

“What are you doing here?” You question, standing up from your seat.

He pouts, approaching you. “Am I so unwelcome? Had some business nearby. Thought I would drop by your office.”

“Do you have anything to consult with me?”

“Yes,” he hums, his gaze sultry. He comes closer to you and easily wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you against his body, his eyes fixed on your lips. Once again, you are overpowered by his touch, smell and everything he makes you feel.

This must stop.

Mustering all your strength, you push him away with a firm hand on his chest. The man stumbles back, looking at you with confusion. With a deep, calming breath, you take a step back and focus your gaze on him, your sharp eyes piercing through his.

“This is over.”

“What?”

“Whatever we were doing…messing around, it is over. I am done.”

“What?” His mouth is agape. He looks absolutely stunned as if your words make no sense to him.

“Mister Jeon Wonwoo, I do not owe you any explanation.” Your tone is sharp, matching your gaze. He frowns, his eyes going dark as he mirrors your gaze. “From now on, I will not be seeing you outside of work, is that clear?”

You see his jaw clench. He inhales a sharp breath, the soft sound cutting through the air fizzling with tension.

“Fine,” he spits with eyes filled with an accusatory intensity so heavy that you feel a physical weight. “Whatever you say. Let's not see each other again.”

You nod, stiff.

You know very well it is a lie. These words are a mere facade of an agreement, bound to be broken. You will see him again for you are two magnets with fierce, crackling attraction. 

Nothing can keep you apart. 

The air thickens with heavy tension, your sharp gazes locked with each other, cutting through the air and charging the atoms with an unending flare. If someone listened closely, they might even hear the hisses of sparks forming and spreading all over.

Sibilance, they call it.

want more of them? head over to my patreon and subscribe here to read their first meeting from wonwoo's pov!

A/N: before y'all think this is the end let me share my plan. so I will be turning this into a series which I will upload from time to time. they will be short episodes, kind of like a slice of life story which will mainly focus on the relationship of these two and their growth. so buckle up, because their journey is just beginning! as always, if you enjoyed reading this, please reblog and share your thoughts. i would love to hear what you guys have to say and what expectations you have from this couple!

on a side note, can we just talk about the overwhelming response of the teaser? like 1k notes in such a short time and also for just a teaser? y'all really love bad boy wonwoo huh. i was pleasantly surprised by the numbers it was doing, even better than a few of my full length fics. not complaining tho! ><

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[lushxboba]

The Emperors Prize

Emperor Geta X Peasant!Reader

Word Count: 2k

TW// 18+ ONLY (minors be gone), mentions of family members death, mentions of murder, spitting, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, thigh riding, if i missed anything let me know !!

A/N: i haven’t written in months so be gentle with me pls 🙏🏽

It’d been the longest year of your life. Ever since Emperor Geta took over after his father died, your whole life had been turned upside down. Your father died the year prior, finally succumbing to his disease after being refused medical care by the kingdom. And your brother was left to do the only thing he felt was right to take care of your family. Train to be a gladiator. Perform in front of the Emperor and all of Rome to fight for his families survival. Only to not survive himself. Leaving you to take care of your little sister and sickly mother all to yourself.

Of course you blamed the only person you felt was responsible. Geta. He killed your father. He killed your brother. You wouldn’t let him take the last of what you had. So you did what you needed to survive, and stayed far away from his tyrants.

You’d heard of his army walking the markets day to day, blending in with the rest of peasants just to try and find someone stealing. They would take them to the temple and cut their hands off, cut their tongue out, maybe even behead them then and there. But you were smarter than those people. And faster. You had to be.

Before your father died, he always told you that your speed would be your superpower to survive Getas reign. You’d never have to face the torment of being in the arena and using your strength against your neighbors, but you could use your speed against his tyrants.

You spent days running in the slums, back and forth until you couldn’t breathe again. Or until you felt like you could’ve lost them. You knew you were ready for anything. Considering you did steal food to survive, you had to be.

You never thought you’d get caught. You’d been doing it for months now, and it seemed that only the elderly were the ones being dragged back to the kingdom. Call it population control if you will. But your time was surely coming to an end, and you could feel it.

You took your weekly walk down to the market, keeping your hood up and frequently looking out for suspicious vendors and customers. You’d seen people dragged away enough to know what they’d look like. They weren’t very good at disguising themselves. To you at least.

You tried to go to different stands each week so they wouldn’t catch on to you. You found a nice fruit stand with more colorful berries than you’d ever seen in your life.

You approached the stand as you practiced your distraction tactic in your head. You took a look around the stand, asking the man about how much he gets each week to sell, making him turn around to look in his inventory, giving you the perfect chance to quickly shove pints and pints of fruit in your bag.

Before he could turn back around, you were gone. Quickly walking through the market fast enough to be out of his eyesight but not fast enough to cause a scene.

You’d made it halfway down the road, just long enough to think you’d gotten away with it until you felt two pairs of hands gripping on each of your arms tightly.

“Little girl thought she got away, huh?” A deep voice husks behind your ear. You don’t fight it. No point in fighting when they’ve already made up their mind. And they are clearly much stronger than you.

You just roll your eyes as you let them walk you towards the kingdom. You can feel the eyes of everyone on you as they practically carry you towards the kingdom, but you pay them no mind. Your father always told you there was no reason to fight.

Once you reach the castle, the anger in you bubbles more and more. Knowing two people you loved died here made you want to rip the ugly brown wallpaper off of the walls and break down the pillars.

The men carry you up the steps to a large room bolted down with a big gold chain. You don’t even bother being nervous or anxious about what’s behind that door. You know your fate is decided the second your name is mentioned to the emperor.

One of the men unlock the chain while the other holds your arm even tighter. You’ve made no signs of struggle so you don’t exactly understand why they have to bruise your arm in the process. The door opens to reveal a long hallway, covered with a red and gold carpet leading to a throne. You’d recognize that throne anywhere. Along with the man who sits on it.

The walk down the runway seems like hours, as the man you despise most in this world stares you down with his wide brown eyes.

“You’re dismissed.” He says in a dark tone. The two men let go of your arms and bow before Geta before turning and leaving the room. Bolting the door down once again behind you.

“Most people bow when they see me.” He says, his legs and arms spread comfortably on the soft throne paid for by his slaves.

“I’m not most people.” You stand tall in front of him, keeping eye contact. “...your highness.” You smirk before playfully bending your knee and bowing in front of him.

Geta scoffs before standing up from his throne, slowly making his way towards you. “You look familiar.” His breath lingers down your skin as he circles around your body, his arms behind his back.

“You killed my father… and my brother.” You can see the gears click in his mind as he stops right in front of you. He places his hand roughly under your chin making you shiver. He forcefully turns your head both ways before nodding. “Caius’ daughter. How could I forget those innocent eyes?”

Your breathing gets heavier as you remember everything this man has put your family through. You spit on his cheek, making him quickly shuffle back. He chuckles under his breath, looking up at you as he wipes your saliva off of his face. “I should have you hung for that alone.”

“You’re going to kill me anyways. What else do I have to lose?” You get down on your knees, placing your hands behind your back as you ready yourself for the knife that is knowingly going to come to your neck.

“Who ever said anything about killing you? I surely didn’t.” He steps closer to you, leaning down to place his hand under your chin once again, this time softer. “Who could kill such a pretty little whore like you?” He lifts your head up to look at him, smirking as your eyes meet his once again.

He roughly pushed your head away as he steps back, slowly untying his robe. “I’ve already done enough damage to you, don’t you think?” He smirks, dropping his robe to reveal his extremely toned naked body. His cock jumps up to his stomach in anticipation, and as much as you hate him, you can’t take your eyes off of it. “In return for letting you live, I say you do a little something for me, don’t you think?” He spits in his hand, moving it down to stroke his cock as you watch on your knees. “You’re already in the position… it’s only fair.”

He moves back to his throne, sitting with his legs spread as he continues to stroke himself. Your mouth salivates at the image alone. You get up from your knees, slowly walking towards him until you’re standing in between his legs.

“I’d rather die than do anything to serve you.” You spit on him once again. Before you can turn around, he grabs you by the wrists and pulls you down on to your knees, holding your hair in one hand so you can’t move.

“This wasn’t an option.” He grabs his cock with his other hand, tapping it on your cheek before roughly shoving it into your mouth. You can’t help but moan the second you taste his salty seed lingering out the tip. “The good girl likes it, too.” He chuckles.

You look up at him with fire in your eyes, slowly bobbing your head up and down his hard member. You keep your arms behind your back and let him take control. That is all he wants after all. You watch as he throws his back in pleasure, moaning loud enough you’re sure the rest of the kingdom can hear you.

He grips your hair tighter with each movement of your mouth, pulling you every which way he wants you to go. “Your mouth is so wet and tight. Can’t wait to see what that perfect cunt feels like.”

You quickly pull off of him, removing one of your hands from your back to stroke him. “You never said anything about fucking me.”

“Oh, but I just did.” He smirks, leaning down to grab your hips and pull you into his lap. “You thought you were going to get away without me feeling your cunt wrapped around my cock?” He grinds into you, his hands roaming up and down your sides. You can’t help but to grind with him, moaning into his hair as he attaches his mouth to your neck.

His hand reaches down to lift up your skirt, revealing no underwear underneath. He moans into your neck as his fingers trace along your wet slit. You wrap your arms around his neck, holding him closer to you as you grind your pussy along his hand.

You reach down to palm his cock, making him moan even louder if that was possible. “Need to feel you already.” He whines as he pulls your shirt up, his mouth immediately sucking on your nipples.

You grab his cock and run the tip along your slit, smirking as you tease him. “Never thought I’d have the Emperor of Rome begging me to fuck him.” You laugh, still riding the tip of his cock.

He growls, grabbing his cock and quickly thrusting up into you. You gasp loudly, gripping his neck tighter than before. He wraps his arms around your back, thrusting into you hard. You match his movements with the bounce of your own hips, leaving both of you a moaning mess.

You can feel your own arousal leaking out and coating both of your thighs. The sounds emitting from this room were obscene, and you just hoped the Gods would forgive you.

You roll your hips faster against him as you feel the familiar coil burn in your stomach quickly. His cock twitches inside of you, making your ego bigger than it already was coming into this room.

“You’re going to cum.” You say breathily, gripping him by his hair to make him look at you. He doesn’t say anything. Just looks in your eyes with his mouth open as he thrusts into you one last time. His hands grip your hips tightly as you feel him dripping out of you. The feeling is enough to make you shake as you reach your own high.

You hold him by his hair tightly, your hips still slowly rolling against his as your both catch your breath. It doesn’t take long for him to remove you from his lap. He grips your hips and swiftly places you back on your feet.

“You may be dismissed now.” He says quietly, clearing his throat as he looks down at his feet.

“Nothing to clean me up at least?” You respond, looking at him even though he isn’t doing the same.

“You’re a peasant. You walk around dirty anyways.” He scoffs.

You walk close to him, lifting your skirt and placing a leg on either side of his thigh. You slide yourself down his thigh until it’s coated in your juices before hopping off.

You fix your skirt, smoothing it out as you smirk up at him. “Your highness.” You bow, pulling your skirt out each way before turning around and walking yourself out. Leaving Geta speechless… for now.

[creative-caramel-coffee]

The Spiders Sister - Chapter 1

Summary: Reader gets caught hiding out in the avengers tower. In the end it turns out for the best.

TW: non-sexual nudity, illness, fainting, swearing

Words: 4.1K

A/n: Super long first chapter

маленький паук – Little Spider

It defiantly wasn’t part of your life plan to be living with your bother again in your adulthood.

You had spent an excellent few months on your own having finally moved out of May Parker’s apartment, it had been perfect. Well … as perfect as life could be for a parker.

Then … you guessed it … parker luck struck again. There was a huge fight, one you had been itching to join but your brother, peter parker, had it covered. And since nobody knew that you sometimes wore the spider-man suit when peter wasn’t able to, it would all be over if two Spider-Man’s ended up fighting some of the weird aliens that had invaded New York.

You see, you and your brother had more in common than most siblings did. Peter parker had been bitten by a radioactive spider on a school trip as was known to a few people. But, at the same time, you had been eighteen and chaperoning the field trip.

When peter had snuck off to the side you had gone after him. When he was bitten, so were you.

But for now, you had decided to try and stay away from the superhero lifestyle. But when the itch came, peter lent you his suit so you could scratch it.

You had helped him refine his web-fluid and had your own web shooters as well as one of his old suits just in case. May knew about you and peter after finding out a while ago. However, peter and you had kept everything about your existence from the avengers so you could live a semi-normal life. At least for now.

But the day the avengers were fighting off the aliens, New York had taken some heavy damage. You had been running a small illustration business out of your apartment in queens. Your apartment … which was now levelled in the fight was gone. Along with your business.

Since you had moved out young, May only had one spare bedroom in her apartment which peter was occupying. Leaving the Parker’s with one option.

As peter had a room in the avenger's tower, you could stay there or with aunt may. Peter being Peter didn’t want to ask tony if he could stay in the tower for the unforeseeable future without arousing questions. So, you had been secretly living in the tower for about three days now.

Peter brought you food and had bribed Jarvis to keep your existence a secret. You had his old suit if you wanted to leave the tower, you could swing away instead of walking through the building and getting caught.

It was a pretty solid plan and it had been working pretty well. Until the day you got sick.

Peters' bedroom in the tower was on the floor with the other avengers, meaning you had to be somewhat quiet so Natasha, clint or the others didn’t find you. But it had begun to get colder out, and Peters old suit didn’t have a heater. It had been made before tony had found out spiders, including peter and yourself, can't thermoregulate. And swinging around New York without a heater in the nippy winter air had left you with a pretty nasty cold.

Unlike peter your powers didn’t give you super healing. In fact, your powers differed from peters in more ways than one. For one thing you had small fangs which you could retract, they didn’t do much, but they were cool, and peter was mildly jealous. Another thing was you had taken on aspects of jumping spiders as you could jump higher due to your super strength and some weird spider quality peter lacked.

Like peter the bit had given your excellent eyesight, increased metabolism, a lack of thermoregulation, the weird sticky thing, the spider sense and super strength and the allergy to peppermint. But due to sharing the suit anytime you went out as “Spider-Man” you had to refrain from using your own unique powers, so you didn’t give anything away.

The thermoregulating thing may have finally come back to bite you now that you were in peters old suit. After taking one of his patrols for him so he could finish his assignment and you could get out of his room in the tower, the cold had made you sick. Heres the thing about having a high metabolism when you don’t have an increased healing factor. It went one of two ways. Either you had flash colds which were taken care of quickly and at a much faster rate than the average human, or if it was stronger than your immune system, it was quickly made into a bigger problem than it should have been due to your body processing things faster and speeding up its strength.

Anytime this had happened in the past, due to not being able to go to a regular hospital, you had thanked the gods for May choosing a career in nursing. Though she had been able to treat you superficially with regular medicine and not anything made for super soldiers or spiders as that was a Bruce banner specialty that was unique to the tower's med bay. So, you often just had to ride it out and if things got really bad, peter would try and smuggle you some of his medicine out of the tower for you.

So, this is where you ended up. Curled up in Peters bed in the tower, stifling rough sounding coughs into his pillow and making a mental note to wash his sheets soon. You were doing your best to remain quiet and not alert either of the super spies to your presence or any of the other avengers. You thanked Thor that only you and peter had super hearing which meant you could usually tell if someone was in the halls.

Feeling miserable you buried yourself further into the sheets and shivered, it was so cold but in reality, you probably had a high fever. Your lungs let out a wheezing noise whenever you exhaled, and you were beginning to think maybe your asthma was back. Unlike peter you had not been so lucky as to have had it cured by the bite.

Your asthma puffer was one of the few things that survived your apartment being destroyed. As you laid in bed feeling awful you thought back to that day.

You thanked the gods you had been out at the time. You had gone to a coffee shop downtown with your sketchbook, laptop and usual things you took out, including a range of art supplies and of course your emergency puffer which peter had managed to smuggle out which had doses that worked with your metabolism.

You were broken from your daydreams as another harsh coughing fit wracked your body. From what you could hear nobody was in the halls, but you did your best to keep quiet regardless. The wheezing that trailed after each breath was getting worse and your lungs were feeling tight.

You had been trying to use the puffer sparingly so it didn’t run out because you didn’t know if and or when peter could get you another. But as drawing breath grew harder you made the executive call to use it. You rolled over in the bed and threw an arm down to fish around for your red backpack. Finding it you fiddled with the zip before your fingers wrapped around the cool plastic of the device. Tony being tony had insisted it have a Spiderman case thinking it was peters which ended up being rather ironic as it was fitting for you too.

You tried fruitlessly one last time to draw breath before achieving nothing but a crackling wheeze. Screw it. You uncapped the red lid and held it to your lips, propping yourself up on an elbow in an attempt to sit u straight to take it.

You exhaled and inhaled repeating it once more before drawing in a lungful of the super-medicine. Almost straight away you began to feel better. Your fast metabolism speeding up the medicines process.

Feeling like you could breathe again you replaced the cap and put it on the nightstand before curling up in the sheets again feeling cold still but also slightly damp from the thin layer of sweat that had been forming all morning.

You were dressed in spider-man pjs which had a thin t-shirt and long pants. You had considered getting up to grab one of peters hoodies to get warm or another blanket but the idea of standing up made your head spin.

You nestled back into the sheets and let your eyes fall shut despite it being almost midday. The curtains were drawn and so it didn’t bother you too much. You began to drift off into a semi-peaceful sleep broken by harsh coughing fits which were becoming harder to stifle in your half asleep and fevered state.

Meanwhile the avengers had just finished their morning training session, one which Peter had joined for once. Peter being Peter had barely broken a sweat and as a result had opted to hang out on the communal floor while everyone went o freshen up.

Stark had designed the tower well. With Peter’s bedroom being on the same floor as Natasha’s who was rather protective of her younger spider counterpart as well as Wanda’s, Yelena’s, Kate’s and a few spares. The rest of the avengers were a floor above.

At first peter had been a bit miffed about being on a floor of just girls but he ended up liking it a lot. And he had a second bedroom in the master suite with tony and Pepper which he proffered anyway. The one on the avenger's floor was more for if Tony and Pepper were away, and he wanted to be around the others.

Natasha was headed for her room after waving goodbye to peter who had settled down to watch more star-wars, when she paused in the hallway.

Retracing her steps she found herself stood outside peters bedroom door. Frowning she pressed an ear to the door and froze. Someone was inside and coughing. Knowing it wasn’t peter, nat carefully twisted the door handle.

Peter being peter had prepared for almost anything. As soon as Natasha had set foot inside peters room Jarvis had alerted peter of her presence.

Meanwhile Natasha peered into the dimly lit room. The lump in the bed was wriggling around and coughing. Nat was on high alert by now. She realised this person was ill but how had they managed to get in without Jarvis knowing? And why were they in peters bed?

She crossed the threshold and walked over to the bed. Taking note of the backpack on the floor and puffer on the bedside table as well as your spider-man pjs which had been a gag gift from Peter last Christmas.

Nat stood and observed for a second. Looking down at your flushed face which was burning with fever and the harsh coughs that were wracking your weak form.

Nat watched helplessly for a second unsure of how to deal with a sick intruder.

She hesitated before extending a hand to your forehead and feeling a very high fever. She sucked a breath. Despite being an intruder she had some ideas as to why you may have been here. Your likeness to peter wasn’t hard to spot. Yet. She was unsure.

Peeling of the blankets to get a better look at you, as she did you made a small noise of discontent and curled into a shaking ball still fever addled and half asleep.

Before she could continue the door opened and peter looked in.

“Uhh M-Ms Romanoff…” Peter said looking guilty as he stepped in and closed the door again.

“Peter, do you know who this is?” Natasha asked getting straight to the point. Peter hesitated and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Y-yes.” He said looking at your sick form with a frown.

“Peter.” She said crossing her arms. “Care to share whats going on?” Nat said as she headed for Peter’s bathroom.

“Um… She … she’s,, my sister.” Peter said unsurely. Natasha returned after a second and nodded. Now holding the first aid kit from peters bathroom in her arms.

“Anything else i should know?” She asked walking over to the bed and sitting down to rifle through the first aid kit.

“Petey?” You mumbled hearing his voice.

Peter seemed to break out of his trance and came to your side. “I’m here Y/n.” He said.

“‘S cold.” You mumbled making peter frown.

“Actually, I think she has a fever.” Nat said as she found what she was looking for, pulling out a thermometer from the kit.

Nat gently placed the thermometer under your tongue and turned to look at peter.

“Pete, you’re not in trouble but i need some more information.” Natasha said.

“This is Y/n. She’s, my sister. Her apartment was levelled in the last attack and so she’s been staying here ever since. She’s not a threat I promise.” Peter said almost tripping over his words in order to explain.

Before Nat could respond the thermometer beeped and she removed it to look at the small screen, drawing another round of coughs from you. Natasha rubbed your back with one hand while frowning at the screen.

“Peter… she should be dead. This says 106. There’s more isn’t there.” Nat said with some urgency as she began peeling the rest of the blankets off you in an attempt to cool you down.

“Ahh … yes. She had powers. Like mine. She … she wears the suit sometimes.” Peter said standing nearby and watching with a worried expression.

“Ok. So, she has spider powers? High metabolism, super strength, etc.” Nat said and Peter nodded. “Why hasn’t her healing fixed this?” Nat said feeling your forehead again.

“She doesn’t have it. Her powers differ slightly.” Peter explained as Nat cursed softly in Russian.

“Her fever’s still rising.” Nat said making a decision. “We need to cool her down fast before she gets too hot for her own good. Jarvis?” Natasha said and peter looked panicked for a second worried about more people finding out about you.

“Ms Romanoff-“ he started.

“Pete, we need to cool her down stat. I need some help.” She said and peter nodded still looking nervous. “Jarvis call wanda to Peter’s bedroom.” Nat said and peter relaxed slightly. Wanda was ok. She would be good for the situation.

“What are you going to do?” Peter asked.

“She needs a bath and I doubt you want to do that.” She said with a small smirk and Peter flushed for a second.

“Defiantly not.” He said shaking his head.

“Is there someone we can call? Someone who she’d be ok with dressing her once we cool her down. She may be sick but i don’t want to invade her privacy.” Nat said as she scooped you up from the bed and into her lap while they waited for wanda to arrive. You cough harshly again and wheezed making nat frown and look to peter.

“Asthma.” He said.

“Runs in the family huh?” She joked reaching over for the puffer on the bedside table.

“Uh… about that.” Peter said looking guilty. “Mine was cured by the bite. I need the puffers for her.” He said looking sheepish. Expecting Nat to be mad she grinned.

“You’re a good brother.” She said as she uncapped the device and pressed it to your lips.

“Exhale.” She instructed and by some small miracle you complied. When you went to inhale, she administered the medicine and told you to hold.

Recapping the device, she rubbed a hand up and down your arm. “Good job sweetie.” She said and felt you relax into her arms some more as you let out a breath.

The two sat in silence for another second before the door opened again and wanda slipped inside.

She was freshly showered, her hair damp and she smelt like jasmine and honey. She was dressed in a simple faded black t-shirt and grey track pants.

“Whats-“ she began before pausing, her eyes caught on you laid in Natashas lap half asleep.

“Wanda,” Nat said. “Meet Y/n. Peter’s older sister.” She said.

“Okay…” Wanda said looking lost before her expression morphed to concern as you coughed. “Is she ok?” Wanda asked.

“No. That’s why you’re here. Long story short, peter smuggled her into the tower, and she has spider powers and her fever is really high. We need to cool her down.” Nat said and wanda swallowed and nodded. “Peter?” Nat said turning to the younger parker.

“Yes?” He said looking up from where he had been studying his shoes closely.

“You never answered my question. Is there someone we can call to come and get her dressed after wanda and i bathe her?” Nat asked and peter blushed again and nodded.

“I can call May. It’s her day off.” He said and Nat nodded.

“You do that. Wanda and I will look after Y/n. We promise not to go further than her outer clothes.” She said and scooped you up into her arms. She headed for Peter’s bathroom with wanda trailing behind. You remained limp in her arms snuggled into her chest in an unconscious need for companionship.

Once the two redheads had you in the bathroom wanda looked at nat. “Now what?” She asked and Natasha smirked.

“Now we take her clothes off.” She said and gently she lifted your arms from where you were laid on the floor in her lap and pulled the spider-man t-shirt off over your head. Wanda blushed slightly at the sight of your red sports bra despite having seen Nat and herself train in about the same if not less clothes.

“You wanna help?” Nat asked with a grin that only served to make Wanda’s blush deepen. You squirmed slighting in Nat’s lap but stopped when she gently rubbed your arm after you buried your warm face into her stomach.

Wanda rolled her eyes in an attempt to feign nonchalance despite being way past that point.

She lifted her hands, and the familiar red glow of magic surrounded her hands. Her magic lifted your hips so Nat could slide off your pants. Wanda blushed again at the sight of your Black Widow boxers. Natasha however grinned at them finding it both adorable and very cute.

After a beat Wanda met Nat’s eyes again. “Now what?”

“We get her in the bath. She needs to be cooled down Asap.” Nat said hoisting you into her arms again as you wriggled, turning and grumbling into her chest.

“Not gonna lie she’s pretty cute.” Nat said and Wanda avoided her eyes as she used her magic to fill the bath with tepid water.

Natasha gently lowered you into the tub ignoring your whining protests and running her hands through your hair which seemed to calm you down as you relaxed again.

“So … now we wait?” Wanda guessed and Natasha nodded.

“Yep. Unless you really want to steal May’s job of getting her dressed again.” Nat teased making Wanda splutter slightly. “Im kidding.” Nat said. “I know what hot women do to your brain.” She winked and wanda slouched slightly.

After a second you grumbled and blearily opened your eyes, squinting at the two women.

“Peter is so dead.” You mumbled before letting your eyes drift shut again. There was a pause before wanda and nat both started laughing.

You groaned. “Peter!” You yelled before coughing again making Wanda and Nat frown. But before they could do anything the door opened to show a beat red peter with his hands covering his eyes.

“Yes?” He said in a small voice.

“When I get out of here, you’re dead.” You mumbled with a foggy glare sent in his direction.

“Hey. Peter did the right thing.” Another voice said from behind Peter.

“May?” You called. “Oh, wtf is going on right now.” You mumbled.

“Whats going on kiddo is that, once again, you failed to ask for help which landed you here.” May said entering the bathroom with a change of clothes.

“Nice to see you Ms Parker.” Nat said and wanda echoed.

“Please. Call me May. And thank you for looking after her.” May said and you groaned.

“I hate all of you.” You said hiding your face in your hands.

“Uh huh. Sure, you do.” May teased.

“It was no problem. Ms- May.” Wanda said. “We’ll wait in peters bedroom while you… yeah.” Wanda said before making a hasty retreat. Nat laughed and followed her out.

May gave you a disappointed frown once she had shut the door and turned back to you with a sigh.

“Honey.” She said.

“I know… I know.” You said still feeling like death but slightly less so. “Did the black widow and scarlet witch just really see me in my underpants?” You asked.

“Yes, and I serves you right for hiding illness … again!” She said as she came over, rolling up her sleeves and helping you out, practically holding all your weight for you as your head spun.

May frowned and guided you over to the covered toilet seat to dress you again.

Gently she began to towel you off and change you into fresh clothes.

“I can do it myself.” You whined but May shot you a look and you knew better than to challenge the angry Parker and you and peter had called her as kids when she was upset at you for something.

“Now, once you’re dressed you are going to thank those two for their kindness and your coming home with me.” May said.

“But-“ you began.

“No buts.” She said and helped you up, now fully dressed.

She helped you over to the door opening it despite still holding you up. The two of you shuffled into the room where Peter, Nat and Wanda were sat on Peter’s bed talking in hushed voices.

“Pete. I love you but I can hear everything you’re saying dumbass.” You said rolling your eyes and May lightly hit your arm.

“Right.” He said rubbing his neck. “Super hearing.” He nodded.

“I’ll add it to the list.” Nat grinned and you groaned before May jabbed you in the side and looked at the two girls.

You coughed at her actions making her frown but quickly got it under control for the sake of your already fragile image.

“Thank you, Wanda and Natasha, for helping me.” You said still leaning heavily on May. Now you had been standing for a bit the room began to spin. Your face went a shade paler making Natasha frown and stand. It was a split second before you stumbled, almost bringing May down with you in the process. Luckily strong arms wrapped around you, and you looked up into Nat’s pale green and worried eyes.

“Y/n?” You finally registered she was talking to you. “Y/n?” She asked again a little louder.

You let out a soft groan and she huffed. “Right. Up we go.” She said hoisting you into your arms and making the room spin again as you buried your face in her arm.

You felt her gently set you down on the bed and feel your forehead.

Distantly you heard May saying something along the lines of taking you home and the sound of Natasha arguing they were better equipped to help with your powers and sickness. May relented and you went back to dozing.

“What happened?” Peter asked from where he was stood by the door.

“Probably got too dizzy from standing up. Her body’s already trying to fight off sickness.” Natasha said and Wanda nodded.

“Peter? Don’t you have a super high metabolism?” Wanda asked.

“Yeah?” He said looking lost as May seemed to catch on.

“Y/n when did you last eat?” May asked and you groaned and buried your face in the pillow. “Well, that answers that.” May said rolling her eyes.

“Peter, do you have any of those energy bars that steve uses?” Wanda asked and peter nodded and headed for his bedside drawer.

He fished around and pulled out one of them and passed it to nat. She unwrapped it and shoved it into your hands.

“Eat.” She said and you made a groan of protest. “It’ll help.” She said in a softer tone.

“Fine.” You said sitting up against the headboard and nibbling on it slowly.

“Better.” Nat said and you frowned.

“You know you’re cute when you’re mad.” Wanda said looking surprised by her own words and blushing at Natasha’s knowing gaze.

“Get some rest маленький паук” Nat said once you had finished eating, and she begun to shepherd everyone out of the room.

PART 2

[chiikasevennn]

SMUT !!

Miguel eating u out . Fingering at the end. Idk what i wrote. Not proofread i js wanna yk. probably has errors.

"[Name]...?" Miguel's head got up from your aching pussy. He saw those tears, one at the brink of tracing a path down your cheeks.

"Ye—yeah?" He knew what you were going to possibly assume next.

"No, nothing's wrong. Are you okay? If—if you're uncomfortable, we can stop." Miguel had a knack for saying the perfect things that melted your heart. It was just one of the many qualities you had come to deeply admire about him.

"No!" You yelled. He just gave you the most mentally flabbergasting orgasm you could ever receive. It wasn't like any other. Electrifying. "It's okay, I—I just, uh, if, if it's being silent, you're not doing anything wrong… That's how I usually am… During sex."

"Oh?"

"'M sorry," you meekly replied, laying back down on the pillow, avoiding his gaze as he was practically in front of your wet cunt that he seemed to not want to let go of.

Gosh, Miguel absolutely adored you. This would be the first time you guys' doing actual lovemaking. You've only given him unforgettable blowjobs, but of course, Miguel was a man with necessities as well; he wanted to taste his woman.

"So you're not uncomfortable?" He asked.

"No… I'm just…" not used to being eaten out like you were the only thing that was gonna keep him alive. "Yeah. You can continue. I really liked it..."

You pretty much wouldn't be extremely wet if you didn't like this one bit.

Miguel placed a quick, firm kiss on your clit, making you flinch. Your cheeks warmed, and before you knew it, you blinked back tears from blurring your eyesight as he devoured every inch of your sanity, but this time, he became rougher.

In less than a minute, nearly on the brink of full-fledged sobbing, trying to keep your legs back together, but Miguel was preventing it. Miguel groaned in pleasure as he pushed your legs against your chest. He made sure there was a wide enough space for him to properly exhibit devotion to your pussy.

There, you exploded your second orgasm of the night. Miguel very well sensed this and kept kissing your cunt as a thank you for cumming for him. You thought he'd finally give you a rest, knowing how much tremble he got out of that simple cunnilingus.

Of course, that was what you thought until he jumped on your pussy again and started to lick and rub everything with his tongue, especially your sensitive clit.

Your body instinctively thrashed around him, only to be caged by his powerful grip on your thighs given how huge he was.

"Ah—ah… uh, u— Mi-Migueeel, wa— mmf!" You slapped the nearest pillow against your face as tears blurred your vision when your clit finally gave out again. He gave kitten licks against your vulva.

Seemed like Miguel took it as a challenge to get you to break for him. Not what he exactly wanted, but this was a process.

He ascended from your spent cunt and went beside you to get a hug. He caressed your naked breast underneath your shirt, massaging and clinging to it as he kissed the tears away, chuckling when you whimpered lowly.

Now, it was time to use his fingers.

"Shit," his hands found its way against your hole, and the way you tried to close it almost made him cum his pants.

You almost whine. You forgot how long and thick his fingers were compared to any of the guys you've been with. Of course, you would, and now you were going to be trained wonderfully by this behemoth of a man.

"Spread 'em wider for me, m'love," he wasn't even finished and you did as you were told. He chuckled. Cute.

"'M gonna fuck you with my fingers, all right? If you can't take it anymore, 's okay, let it all out…"

Needless to say, you woke up the next day unable to walk properly. Oh, he also kept pumping his fingers into your cunt sometimes that you almost passed out, sometimes glaring, but did you ever protest? Nope!

[iguessthisisanewobsession]

Ghostwriter was really asking for soup time at this point.

He had apologized for his first Christmas truce before, last year he even convinced Clockwork to help him make a copy of the original work he had ruined.

So why in god’s gracious earth did he wake up to Amity Park being in a hallmark movie.

Danny glared as the people milled about the center of town like they haven’t since the portal opening.

It was unnerving, the only thing really missing from the equation was some out of town love interest or something.

“Hey, excuse me.”

Tall and built with black hair and blue eyes.

Oh you got to be-

~~~~~~~~~~~

Dick tried to make himself look more charming as the guy he approached turned around.

When he heard that the justice league were getting concerning calls about a town In Illinois, he saw an out from the Christmas gala.

Sure Dick enjoyed the season, but the fact that he has to spend a large amount of the winter season putting up a front as the perfect firstborn was not something he wanted to do unless he had to.

That being said, the town was a bit unnerving. He hadn’t seen anything supernatural per say but the constant cheer is something he had only ever seen on the silver screen of his home. He had tried to approach several different people only to be met with seasons greetings and promptly ignored when as they ran off to do whatever small towns do for the holidays.

This guy at least wasn’t plastering a smile on his face.

“Hey, excuse me I’m new in town and looking around, my name is-“

“Let me guess, Rupert or Orlando or some shit.”

“What?”

“Well it has to be pompous and annoying. It’s kind of a trend and shit last time I checked.”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about man I just wanted to ask-“

The man snorted as he left, throwing over his shoulder with a large amount of snark,

“For a tour around town? A place to stay? A friendly face? Sorry man, man but I’m not interested. The town square is full, ask someone else I have a date with a caffeine addiction.”

Dick watched a bit stupefied as the guy weaves into the ground and out of his eyesight.

“Well he seemed charming.”

Dick raised his phone to the earpiece and sighed,

“Yeah well, he’s the first person who didn’t sound like they weren’t on a script so far. I didn’t even know that midwesterners took Christmas so seriously. How long until you reach town Jay?”

I’m reaching midtown just about now. It looks like Santa took a shit on every-“

There was a sudden squeal of tires as the line cut.

Oh no.

~~~~~~~~~~

Jason gasped as he tried to calm his breath glancing at the guy he almost hit on his bike.

Jesus Christ that was close.

“Shit man are you alright?”

“Peachy. Always liked pancakes and all that.”

~~~~~~~

Danny felt a blush hit him as the behemoth of a guy let out a snort. It was embarrassing that he didn’t notice the guy until he almost became a smear, the dude was built like a tank and wearing a red helmet.

“I shouldn’t’ve taken that turn that quickly.. sometimes forget I’m not at home.”

“Oh yeah? Where’s home for you?”

“Gotham if you believe that.”

“Explains why you drive like you’re chased by death.”

“You have no idea..”

He took off his helmet with another snort and shake of the head. A white wisp in a sea of black shook out while mirthful blue eyes met his.

Crap..

“Name’s Jason. You are?”

“Nunya,”

The guy raised a brow mildly confused.

“Pardon?”

“Nunyabusinessbye!”

Danny took off before he was done with the sentence. He could feel eyes on his retreat for the second time today.

‘Jesus, smooth recovery Fenton.’

~~~~~~~~

Tim rubbed his eyes as he listened to his older brothers bicker over the coms.

He couldn’t understand the issue with the surveillance! All the cameras and mics are properly functioning but for some reason everything is corrupted and it’s driving Tim up a wall!

A break, Tim needed a break from this Airbnb and something caffeinated.

~~~~~~~~

‘Just ten minutes, ten minutes and he could get his drink, he could rant to his friends on the group chat afterwards and wait out the story. ‘

And with as much bravo as any tired young adult, he entered the shop.

Danny almost left the cafe as he heard another unfamiliar voice bellow out.

“What do you mean you don’t have coffee, it’s a coffee shop!”

Blue eyes, black hair, surprisingly smaller than the first two and eye bags that could rival Danny some nights.

Danny was done.

Fuck the treaty this was war.

[getozitos]

the perfect heir and the lord's realization of love.

(sukuna x fem!reader)

summary: with him being your lord, you couldn't just refuse such an honorable ask from him now, could you?

content warning: smut, p in v, nsfw, porn with plot, explicit content, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, yandere tendencies, sukuna being obsessive, jealousy, reader being devoted to him, god complex, toxic behavior, heian era, true form sukuna, dark romance. (english is not my first language)

you couldn't understand him. he was a god, after all, and you were nothing but his most devoted and dedicated servant. the one he always chose to dance for him. nothing past it.

he was the closest thing these people had to an god, even though he knew he was way closer to a diabolical thing than to a god. this didn't matter now, he was their king, their ruler. he could ask for anything and they would give it. hand it. but then, why is it that those disgraceful men seemed to be so devoted to making him mad?

he marked you as his. you were his property and you accepted that happily, always smiling at the marks he gave you after a sleepless night, the bites of his teeth marking your skin through weeks. they never seemed to heal. and even if those men saw it, they didn't really care- something about "sharing", as they called it.

god, he hated those humans.

"you," he called the old lady by the lady's room.

"yes, my lord?"

"who is that man?" he asked sternely.

the old lady looked at the direction he was pointing to, her eyes blinking calmly before she closed them shut. "nobody important, my king. he is one of your entertainers."

"kill him." and she widened her eyes again. "not you, you old thing." he scoffed, angrily. "send someone to kill him. i don't want to ruin my clothes with his dirty blood. i want him dead first thing in the night. make it public."

and she gulped, nodding quietly as she slowly backed herself away from his throne.

then again, you were doing your daily duties since today was another girl's day to be with him. your attention got caught by the screaming in front of the area and, since your eyesight wasn't that good, you had to approach and pass your way through the lots of people that were in front of his palace to have the eyesight that made everyone so frightened.

it seems like the singer boy whom always sang his heart out for you was found gagging in his own blood, his tongue had been cut and by the look of his clothes, someone beat him to a pulp before cutting his tongue.

with your hands covering your mouth, you fell to your knees before trying to get closer to him, only to feel a hand on your shoulder and, for everyone's surprise, to see sukuna himself getting down to get you on his arms, not saying anything and just bringing you to his room.

and, for fuck's sake, you cried your heart out! was he really that important? what did he do for you to be so touched by this white haired boy death? he wasn't even as important or magnificent as sukuna!

"stop crying." he demanded, all arms crossed as he looked down on you, his eyes all focusing on you and on what you would do, say, how you would act.

"i'm sorry, master- my lord, i am so sorry" you begged, hands on the ground as you reverenced him and tried to stop the tears from falling.

"i don't care for your apologies if you don't stop crying." he growled.

you needed a bit more than five minutes to stop crying, but finally it had come to an end and you stopped your sobbing and crying session, hands pawing on your knees as you now looked up at him, your teary stained face making him smirk.

"i brought you here because i had something more important to talk to you." he said, eyes looking down on you like you were nothing but a bug even if he did everything for you — without your acknowledge.

"yes, sir. what do you need me to do?" you asked, breathing heavily.

"i want you to have my heir." he said, making your eyes go wide as you looked at him, stuck between being terrified and being the happiest you could ever be. "well? this is the part where you take your clothes off, dear."

and you nodded, submissively taking off your clothes and folding them like you were always told to.

"i'll be more than happy to give you an heir, my lord" you said, bowing your head to him as your hair cascated and covered your face from his hungry eyes.

"good to know." he smiled, pulling you closer to his still dressed body before putting your boob on his mouth. "i'll be more than happy to give you my heirs."

you frowned, heart beating fast as you felt your body react oh so quickly to his mouth on your nipple and his words against it.

"plural, my lord?" you gagged.

"you think i would've stop after one son? no, dear. you'll give me at least five sons. i don't care for their gender, i just want you to be their mother." and he nipped on your nipple, pulling you to straddle his lap.

you panted, nodding quietly in your devotion. "yes, my lord."

he smiled, biting your neck without any care if it would hurt or not, he wanted it to be clear. you were his.

his fingers travelled all the way down to your inner thighs, gripping at them before delving your pussy with his fingers. "don't you think you're too wet for someone who just lost a friend?" he asked, mockingly.

"h-he wasn't my friend, he was just someone i knew from afar" you panted, your cunt gripping his fingers.

"well, i'm pretty sure you weren't just someone he knew" he smiled, kissing and nipping at your neck "it seems to me that he wanted me to share you, you know?"

"n-no.. t-that couldn't be..." you panted, gripping at his shoulders.

"are you telling me i'm wrong, dear?" he arched his brow.

"n-no, my lord! i'm sorry!" you begged, panicking as his arms undressed his body. he smiled, laying you down on the bed and placing one hand over your belly.

"you'll look so pretty when you're all round and full of my seed" he smiled, thrusting his member into you before you could even answer something, a loud moan coming out instead. "i bet you're gonna look even prettier when you're nurturing"

he smiled, fondling your boobs and sucking them both together without even caring if you'd like it or not, well, lucky for you, you liked it. enough for you to be a moaning mess under him.

"what do you think, dear?" he groaned, grabbing your hips and thrusting into you in a quicker pace, god, he loved your hips so much. how could it be that they always seemed so round? you were always so perfect for him, so tight and such a good girl for him.

maybe he loved you. maybe that's why he wanted you to have his children and this might be the reason for him to kill any man that wanted to have a way with you.

...

nah, it was just possessiveness. love is something that humans reach for in a sick need of validation.

"my lord..!" you called, breathing heavily as he thrusted into your womb, warming your entire body up as you cried your pleasure out "p-please, can you kiss the future mother of your heirs?" you begged, crying lovable eyes staring into his like you were seeing a shooting star.

well, he might love you. enough for him to be holding back from cumming inside you right away when you asked for that kiss. of course, he couldn't keep that up for much longer and just like that, his tongue was inside your mouth, tangled in your tongue as he came inside you and made sure to pump his cum inside you, not allowing you to have it running down your legs.

"again," he said, breathing heavily, his dick still twitching inside you "i'll fuck you again" he said. "until i'm certain that you're gonna get pregnant, i'll be fucking you day and night." he said, looking into your eyes as he held your nape.

you blinked your eyes at him with clear surprise, as a human, hearing him say that was supposed to cause you to be preoccupied, but in other words, he just admited to have a sickeningly obsessive love for you to the point that he wouldn’t be inside anyone else but you.

"i'll keep giving you my seed," he breathed out, kissing you again "so have my child."

you were the only one that he wanted to have children with.

and you did! soon enough, there were a pair of three four-eyed and four-arms twins running around and making everyone's life (except yours and sukuna's) miserable.

and then, there was another one, and another one. god, you really loved those children, and him. life was perfect!

i mean, you didn't even care if he killed another man because of you, it was... common, at this point. of course, the blood cleaning task was not yours, so it didn't really mattered.

that's just his way to say he loves you.

[rayjeff]

hello !!! i wanted to just say that i love the way you draw alastor so so much hes so round and i wanna squish him AUGH

his redesign as well !!! its such an interesting design !!! i do wonder what was the thought process behind some of aspects like the turtleneck and stuff?(if any, i know sometimes changes r done like . because Looks Cool

and of course the rest of your art looks so cool !! like the dca and your sonic drawings OUGRH

THANK YOU THANK YOU!! <33

to be 100% honest

The thought process was "how can i draw this man in a different way and still keep him hot classy and appealing??"

some main things i changed a lil:

Turtleneck - i always thought that turtlenecks looked elegant! Alastor in his oryginal design has covered neck and I wanted to keep this aspect and give it more class (I think he would like it :] It's simple and imo suits him, makes him look wiser and more confident)

Glasses - I got inspired by his human redesigns! I like to think that his eyesight isn't perfect and he would use these glasses for reading or something. He looks like someone with fucked up vision lol

Hair - i believe in hot man with long fluffy hair supremacy, don't judge me asghdasd

Ace ring - I own one! :D Thought it would be nice to have a more subtle portrayal of his sexuality :>

Tail - tail.

Shoes - i remember seeing similar shoes in the past, they look silly

"Claws" - deer with claws??? how cool is that

and yes you're right, some changes were made because they looked silly =v=

[isaidonyourknees]

The Stakeout

Crosshair x f!reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Prompt: “you’ve gone to far this time”

Summary: Sent to gather information on a potential separatist spy, you’re partnered with Crosshair to watch your target from above. Pairing you with Crosshair made sense at first, but after spending two weeks in a small room with him, you’re just about ready to snap.

Warnings: NSFW! Minors DNI. Smut, fingering, unprotected p in v, swearing.

A/N: hi! Another story for the @cloneficgiftexchange I decided to try something new by writing some smut. I’ve never written anything like this before so hopefully it’s alright. I was also aiming for enemies to lovers but it turned into something a lot softer. I wrote this for @heavenseed76 I really hope you enjoy it!

At first the pairings made perfect sense. The mission was to gather intel on a potential separatist spy from afar. So you had split into three teams of two.

With Hunter’s tracking abilities and Wreckers need for action, they were best suited for following your target from the ground - listening into conversations, watching what was bought and sold.

Tech and Echo were to remain on the marauder, which was parked just outside of the small beach town, tasked with monitoring comm channels and keeping in contact with command. If a quick getaway was needed then you also wanted Tech in the pilots seat.

And with Crosshair’s eyesight and sniper skills, and your patience and attention to detail, it made sense that the two of you were paired together to watch from above, monitoring your targets larger movements around the town.

Two weeks into sharing a single room with Crosshair was starting to make you wish you two didn’t make such a good pairing. The man was insufferable. He didn’t pick up after himself, leaving clothes and wrappers littered around the room. He was always grumbling under his breath about one thing or another. And his stupid toothpicks. It made you furious every time he used the stupid things to point at you as he talked.

But the real reason you were struggling with this mission was because despite all the ways he got on your nerves, Crosshair held all your affections. You cared for him more deeply than you should. And being caged in a single room with him for the past two weeks was wearing you thin. With each minute that passed your feelings were getting harder and harder to control.

Each time he silently handed you a ration bar, reminding you to eat, each time he quietly joked with you as you watched the marketplace below you while sharing snacks he had stolen from the vending machine in the hallway, each time you fell asleep by the window and woke up tucked in bed, each time he showed the quiet way he cares has your heart racing and a warm feeling spreading within your chest. He seemed cold and cruel on the surface, but if you knew where to look, Crosshair was a big softie and it had you melting for him.

With each day that passed, you were getting closer and closer to doing something stupid, something that will certainly leave your heart shattered.

Something like grabbing his stupidly handsome face and kissing him. Which is exactly what you did.

•~•~•

It was approaching two weeks of your stakeout. Two weeks of sharing the small, crappy room with Crosshair.

The marketplace below you was quiet, the afternoon rush having come and gone. The vendors were in their final few hours of their shifts before they would be shutting up for the night. Your forehead is pressed to the glass. You know that the target isn’t here. Hunter and Wrecker had commed you earlier, updating you that they had followed the target back to the room she was renting and it appeared that she wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon. It was completely pointless for you to be staring out of the window but you and Crosshair were instructed to keep round the clock surveillance in case Hunter and Wrecker miss anything. You hum a mindless tune to keep your mind occupied as you watch an elderly woman purchase her groceries.

“Stop humming” Crosshair huffs.

“No.” Your response is dry and you continue humming just a little bit louder than before.

“Stop. Focus on the task.”

“I am focusing. What do you think I’m doing?” You snap. He always had something to complain about.

“I think you’re watching that woman buy her dinner instead of the hotel across the square.”

You feel your face flush slightly at being caught. Curse his stupid enhanced eyesight.

“What woman?” You grumble, but it’s halfhearted and not very convincing. He sighs loudly and shuffles off the bed he was resting on. He drags the second chair over and positions it next to you. You unstick your forehead from the window to look at him, ignoring the fact that there’s probably a red mark on your head, to give him a questioning look.

“If you’re bored you won’t focus properly,” is all he says in explanation. You nod along.

“So what do you propose?” You ask. He doesn’t respond and your annoyance begins to creep in again. You huff and scan the small crowd of shoppers and vendors below you.

“See that blue twi-lek?” You ask, pointing the man out. Crosshair leans forward slightly, studying the man closely.

“What about him?”

“And see that vendor there? The guy with the glasses and pink hair?”

“Yes.”

“Well the twi-lek man definitely has feelings for the vendor. He’s there just about once a day and he always selects an object at random, not studying the produce like other shoppers. He also stays to talk with the vendor longer than anyone else,” you explain.

“Stop loosing focus” Crosshair snaps.

“I’m not! I’m taking in the square as a whole and therefore I notice the other people in it as well” you defend. Crosshair is silent for a moment.

“How do you know?” He asks. You shrug.

“I don’t. Obviously. I’m taking what I’m seeing and making something up to go with it. You have a go.”

Crosshair doesn’t say anything, but that doesn’t surprise you.

“I think the vendor is interested in the twi-lek as well. But he’s got a kid and he’s worried that it’ll scare the twi-lek away. It won’t” you continue your story. You go quiet for a moment, studying the crowd.

“That little girl keeps stealing from that particular fruit vendor” you say, pointing the two out. Crosshair doesn’t respond but he follows your gaze to see who you’re talking about and you smile to yourself. “She only does it because the vendors little sister makes fun of her at school.”

“That man by the herbal store,” Crosshair points out. You seek out the man he’s talking about and find a neatly dressed man’s pacing and muttering. You hum your acknowledgment and you feel Crosshairs gaze flicker to you for a moment.

“He’s going to propose tonight.”

You turn to look at him and give him a surprised look.

“I didn’t pick you for a romantic Cross,” you tease.

“I’m not,” he scoffs. “I saw him buy the ring when we first arrived.”

“Well who’s he proposing too?” You ask.

“How should I know” he huffs in annoyance.

“Make something up” you prompt. He’s quiet for a long moment. You’re just about to come up with a new story yourself when he finally speaks up.

“The girl who grew up next door from him. Their parents are friends so they’ve known each other since they were little, but he didn’t really notice her until she helped him get over his first heartbreak when they were fifteen.”

You turn to look at him again, studying his face, but he keeps it in his neutral scowl. You know that he can feel your gaze on him, but he ignores you. The story is sweet and romantic and a compete surprise coming from Crosshair. You can feel your heart beat pick up slightly. Crosshair could be romantic when he wanted and it only deepens your already overflowing feelings for him. He finally spares you a glance and you realise you’ve been staring at him. You clear your throat.

“Which holo-novel did you get that one from?” You gently knock his shoulder with yours in your attempt at teasing him, but it feels awkward and you internally cringe.

“Fine then I won’t play your little game.”

You pout at him playfully but it softens into a smile.

“You just surprised me is all. Didn’t think you had it in you Cross.” You hesitate before you continue, not wanting to risk overstepping. “I like you like this.”

He turns away from the window and looks at you. You’re already watching him. The two of you spend a moment just studying each other. Crosshair breaks it first, leaning forward to gently run his thumb over the still lingering mark on your forehead from leaning on the window earlier. He smooths his thumb across your skin, as if he’s trying to wipe away the faint redness. It’s soothing and soft and oh so tender.

His face is so close to yours, your breaths mingling together. He makes eye contact with you, his hand still on your face, and there’s a gorgeous warmth in his eyes and you just can’t control your emotions anymore.

You bring your hands up to his face and lean in, closing the gap between the two of you. The kiss you give him is sweet and tender, mirroring his previous actions. His hand on your face moves to the back of your head as he kisses you back. A glorious warmth fills your chest.

It’s quickly erased a moment later, however. Crosshair pulls back sharply, leaning as far back in his chair, as if to get away from you.

That sweet warmth turns into burning embarrassment. You’ve ruined everything now.

“I’m so sorry. I should’ve asked. I’ve overstepped and-“

“Don’t.”

You stop talking and look at him, waiting to see what else he has to say. But he doesn’t say anything. Typical.

“Cross-“

“Just don’t do it again.”

Kriff.

You can feel your heart shatter. You’ve read it all wrong. He doesn’t feel the same.

“I’m sorry. I thought you liked me. I misread the situation and I should have asked. I’m sorry Crosshair.” You’re rambling, but you don’t know what else to do. You feel bad. You’ve put him in a situation he probably never thought he’d be in.

“I do like you.” He says it simply, like it’s glaringly obvious. Like he didn’t just tell you to never kiss him again.

“What?” Your brain is taking too long to catch up. “Then why…” you trail off.

“It’s you that doesn’t like me” he states plainly. You’re still confused, but it melts into annoyance and a bit of anger.

“Crosshair- what?” You question. “Of course I like you! I wouldn’t have kissed you if I didn’t like you.” He shakes his head.

“Stop it. You don’t.” He tells you. Your anger really starts to simmer. Who was he to tell you how you felt.

“Don’t tell me how I feel,” you snap at him. “Don’t tell me that I don’t like you as if I didn’t just risk our entire relationship to kiss you. Like I haven’t pined after you for months. Like you didn’t catch my attention as soon as I joined this team.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You’re both furious and flabbergasted. Your mouth is opening and closing like a fish as you struggle to find the words to express your fury. Crosshair speaks before you can find them.

“You don’t actually like me. I’m just your chance to prove you were a little rebellious. That you slept with someone other than the vanilla partner you’ll end up with. You’ll tell the story of the daring few months you spent with me at your girls night to gain a few gasps. Ultimately, I’m just a quick fling to get it out of your system before you settle down for a quiet, boring life.”

He says it all plainly, his voice dry and lacking any real emotion. He says it as if he’s describing the weather.

You finally find your voice again and you just snap.

“You’ve gone too far this time, alright! This isn’t just a fling to - to ‘get it out my system’. This isn’t some attention seeking rebellious act or a story to laugh about with some boring date or partner in the future. What I feel for you is real. Do you want to know how I know this?”

“Pray tell.”

“Because I hate it! I hate the way you make me feel! I hate your stupid voice and your stupid comments. I hate your toothpicks and I hate the way you glare at me. I hate that you’re so charming without even trying and I hate the quiet ways you care for me. I hate you!”

You pant as you try to catch your breath. You stare at him but he gives no indication that he’s going to say anything. You hate how he speaks when you don’t want him to and is silent when you desperately need him to speak. You huff in annoyance, but all the fight has left you.

“I hate you so much and yet… here I am, yearning for you.”

He moves so quickly, you almost don’t register it until he’s in front of you. He grabs your face in both hands, and he kisses you. Fiercely. It’s deep and passionate and desperate. It takes you a moment to respond, but when you do you kiss him back just as hard.

He starts walking you backwards, his lips never leaving yours, until you feel your back press against a wall. It’s no longer just his lips and hands on you as he presses his body onto yours. You can feel all of him - his hard chest, his hips, his strong thighs - and yet it’s not enough. You need more.

He breaks the kiss, but he doesn’t move away from you. He studies your face for a moment before he speaks.

“I’m yours whenever you need me,” he murmurs in your ear, his lips brushing your earlobe before he begins tracing a path of soft kisses down your neck. Your breath stutters as you try to speak.

“I need you now Crosshair. I always need you.” You let out a small moan as his teeth run over your pulse point. He focuses on this spot, sucking and nipping until he’s satisfied with the mark he’s left behind.

“Tell me what you want, doll” he says, pulling away from your neck to look at you. You whine and turn your face away from him. He makes a disappointed sound as he gently grabs your chin to turn your face back towards him. “None of that now. Prove you can handle me. Look at me as you tell me what you want.”

He’s wearing that insufferable smirk. The one that makes you want to slap him and kiss him at the same time. It’s the stupid smirk that makes you push him off you and backwards until the back of his knees is hitting the bed. You push him down before straddling his lap. He doesn’t believe you can take him, but you are more than happy to prove him wrong.

“First, I want this off” you say as you begin mouthing at his neck, your fingers slipping under the hem of his shirt, lightly tugging the material upwards. He leans back slightly to allow you to slide his shirt further up his body and you take your time as you graze your fingers over his newly exposed skin. You drop the shirt carelessly on the ground, unable to tear your eyes or hands away from his gorgeous golden skin for very long. You trace your fingers over his chest and abdomen.

“See something you like?” His voice has a teasing lilt to it. You lift your gaze back up to his dark eyes. You can’t help your cheeky smile.

“It’ll do.” You add a small shrug to add effect.

“Well in that case-“ he moves you off him and gets up, walking away from you, giving you a wondrous view of his back.

“Crosshair don’t you dare!” You whine.

“That’s what I thought” he smirks. He stands in front of you and he hooks his fingers under your shirt. He stills though, silently asking for your permission. Something in your chest melts a little before you nod. You expect him to rip the fabric from you, instead he takes his time, brown eyes taking in every inch of your skin that’s exposed to him. Your heart races in your chest as he takes you in.

Once the offending garment is finally on the floor somewhere you reach up and grab his face, pulling him down to you in a searing kiss. Your emotions bubble under your skin and you need him. He runs his hands over your waist as you kiss, taking in the feel of you under him. Wanting more, you unclasp your bra, tugging it off without breaking the kiss. Crosshair groans into the kiss and you drink up the sound, wanting to hear it over and over again.

Crosshair pulls away, his eyes fixating on your chest. He brushes a finger over a nipple and your breath catches in your throat.

“Kriff look at you” he mutters as if he’s speaking to himself. Then he’s leaning down and wrapping his mouth around your nipple, his fingers lightly tugging at your other one.

“Cross” you keen, arching your back to press your chest further into his warm mouth. You feel the low groan he makes.

“Say my name like that again” he murmurs into your skin, and you oblige him as he switches sides. He moves, sucking a mark onto your chest, before he presses a sweet kiss to it. Your breath hitches and you feel your heart skip a beat. Here he is marking you as his before he’s switching to become soft and gentle.

He doesn’t remain at your chest for very long. He continues to trail down your body, licking and sucking gently as he goes, until he’s hooking his fingers under the waistband of your pants.

“Are you alright with this?” He asks, looking up at you from between your thighs. The sight of him sends heat burning through you.

“Crosshair please” you whine. You sound absolutely desperate, but you don’t care. Whatever it takes to get him to finally undress you.

His eyes darken at your words and he’s tugging your pants and underwear down in one swoop, shoving them on the floor so he can finally get a look at you. You feel a little self conscious under his gaze for a moment but he takes it all away when he looks back up at you again.

“You’re stunning” he rasps, moving back up your body to kiss you deeply again, his tongue exploring your mouth expertly. You run your hands over his back, taking him in, but they quickly move to grip his shoulders when his fingers swipe through your folds. You gasp into his mouth and he pulls away so he can hear the noise you make as he presses a single long finger into you.

“Look at you,” he groans, “so wet and tight and making the prettiest noises for me.” You moan at his words, but also the rough sound of his voice as he starts thrusting his finger, searching for the little spot that’ll have you seeing stars. You let out a cry when he brushes over it, clenching tightly around his finger. He smirks at your reaction before inserting a second finger.

“You feel so good” you groan, loving the stretch from his fingers alone. He picks up his pace, fingers moving rapidly, leaving you moaning and squirming beneath him. You can feel your release building and building. You’re almost there, you just need a little more to get you there.

“Crosshair” you plead, not quite able to find the words to convey how close you are. He can tell though, the way you squeeze and flutter around his fingers is indication enough. He presses his thumb to your neglected clit, tracing short tight circles over it as he leans down, mouth brushing at your ear.

“Come on doll, show me how gorgeous you look coming around my fingers.”

His simple command muttered in his rough voice sends you flying over the edge. You grip at his shoulders desperately as you clench around his fingers. He continues his movements, working you through your orgasm until your grip on him loosens. He places sweet kisses along your neck as he removes his fingers and lets you come down from your high.

You pant a little as you catch your breath, but as Crosshair shifts above you, you feel his length brush over your thigh and you feel your arousal and need growing again. As he continues to lather your neck with kisses, your hands move to his pants, quickly unbuttoning them. Just as you go to push them down you pause, looking up at the man above you.

“Can I touch you?” You ask. Crosshair lets out a groan, leaning down to press his forehead against yours.

“Please” he murmurs. You push his pants down enough to get them out of the way before you take his hard length into your hand. He’s long and oh so pretty. Your mouth waters at the sight of him. You want nothing more than to flip him over and to taste him.

“Next time doll,” Crosshair says as if he can read your mind. “As nice as having your mouth on me would be, I need to be in you. Now.”

You pump his length a few times, which earns you a groan through gritted teeth and a warning look from him. You smile up at him sweetly which he chuckles darkly at.

“Looks like I underestimated you, doll. Looks like you can handle me just fine.” He grabs your hands, pinning them above your head with one hand, the other making quick work of shoving his pants off before lining the head of his cock up to your entrance.

His movements were so swift and effortless it leaves you breathless and speechless for a moment. He doesn’t give you long to gather your wits before he is pushing into you with a smooth thrust. It completely knocks your breath out of you. You try to move your hands, needing desperately to grab hold of something, anything to ground yourself, but his grip on your wrists remains firm. You gasp as you clench around him, trying to adjust to his size.

“Fuck Crosshair! You’re so big. You’re s’good” you slur. He gives you his insufferable smirk, but you can’t find it in yourself to care at the moment.

“My babydoll is drunk on my cock and I haven’t even moved yet” Crosshair teases, pride written across his features. This sobers you up a little.

“Just shut up and move” you grumble. Crosshair kisses you, remaining annoyingly still inside you. You whine into the kiss. When he pulls away, he begins to pull out.

“You’re lucky I like you,” he says before he thrusts back into you, beginning a steady pace. You cry out at his deep thrusts and his quick pace right off the bat.

“That’s right. Let all the neighbours hear just how good I’m making you feel.” He changes his angle slightly as he says this, hitting your sweet spot deliciously, causing you to moan loudly as you clench around him.

“Only you make me feel this way Cross,” you manage to stutter out, brain going hazy with the pleasure he’s giving you.

“Such a good girl for me. So wet and tight, all for me.” You whine at the praise, feeling the pressure of your release starting to build. He pushes into you harder, feeling your walls flutter around him. He presses his thumb to your clit, circling it intently.

“You’re close, I can feel it. Feel you clenching and fluttering around me. You feel divine doll. Now show me what you look like as you come on my cock. Let me hear all the pretty little sounds you’ll make.”

His words murmured in his husky voice send you over the edge. He lets go of your hands and they grip at his shoulders desperately, nails digging into his skin as you cry out his name over and over again, lost in the pleasure he is giving you. Just as you’re beginning to come down from your high his hips begin to stutter.

“So good for me. You’re so good for me. Where-?” He asks hurriedly.

“Inside. Please” you beg. He groans deeply as he gives a few more thrust before you can feel the warmth of him spilling into you. He collapses onto you for a moment while the two of you catch your breaths. The weight of him is comforting and you can feel his heart beating against your chest. A content warmth settles in your chest as you draw aimless shapes across his back. The gesture seems to bring him back to his body. He pulls out of you and rolls off you, causing you to whine at the loss. He chuckles as he pulls you into him, wrapping you up in his arms.

“Don’t worry doll, I’m not going anywhere.”

He brings the blanket up over the both of you and you feel so safe and warm. You bask in the feeling for a moment.

“I meant everything I said you know.” Your voice is quiet, laced with sleepiness. “I really do want you. If you’ll have me.” Crosshair doesn’t respond, but his grip around you tightens.

You’re fast asleep when he finally does respond, his words a gentle whisper into your hair.

“I am yours entirely.”

[gremlinmodetweeker]

Mine friendo, one, I dunno why it reblogged three times and I do not take any of that back, and two, I need your take on a Nikto kitter cause I wanna, with permission, write a piece with your au 🙏 if it's okay

Okay so, I had to wait until I got home for this but PLEASE IT'S OKAY TO WRITE FOR THIS OH MY GOSH PLEASE DO. All I ask is a tag as credit please. I mean, it's not really my au, it's just appreciated. It's not necessary. What is necessary is tagging me so I can read it! I want to read this!!!

TW: mentions of torture, violence, recovering from grievous wounds

However, your other part of your ask might lead to a bit of a tragedy. See, when Kortac created their task force of cat hybrids, they were trying to use the parts of cats that make perfect hunters to make their soldiers. Silent, fast, agile, strong, excellent eyesight under low light conditions, enhanced smell and hearing, capable of mimicry, able to endure hot and cold environments. Above all, they were to be loyal. So, they used the domestic cat to keep their soldiers domesticated enough to keep them under their thumb.

Nikto was among the first used. He was the first successful prototype. He was perfect! He was loved for his skills as a soldier, and he was loved as being an affectionate domesticated cat. Nikto was adored.

Unfortunately, KorTac had funding cuts and all the perfect soldiers they made had two choices: be let free, or be euthanized. The head of the lab was a soft-hearted man, and he insisted that the cats were to be set free. When the order went through that the cats were to be euthanized regardless, he panicked and smuggled the cats out to a city where he let them free. He begged them to forgive him as he let them go.

The cats all gathered together to face the harshness of city life. Not all of them made it, but most managed. They were homeless cats, homeless humans. They were lost and scared, but they persevered.

Eventually, some of the cats started to get adopted. Nikto watched as his brothers and sisters in arms managed to find places to stay and hide in their cat forms. He saw how wonderfully things worked out for them. Surely, he could find a happy home too, right?

So Nikto let himself be adopted by someone. He was picked up by a teenager with his friend and brought back to a shed. There, Nikto was forced to endure the worst of human behaviour.

The teens learned of a way to make money online. A strange way, but an easy way. It made good money, so they heard. It was easy, as long as you could do it.

Nikto was tortured for hours and hours in that shed. Being a stray for so long, he was too hungry and weak to be able to shift and defend himself. Instead, he was forced to endure horrors I hate to repeat.

When the teens figured that Nikto was dead, they put him in a can and kicked it over into a puddle of some leftover household acid, remains of what they'd used on him previous. Too weak to move, Nikto accepted his fate and closed his eyes.

He was woken up later by an animal trying to nibble at him. Parts of his body fell off as he heaved himself out of the puddle. He felt himself shake, he thought this was the end. But, he needed to warn the others. He couldn't let them suffer a fate like this.

Nikto hauled himself through the streets. He pushed through back alleys to get back to the city, and back to where his squad mates lived. When he arrived back, they did their best to care for him, but they didn't think Nikto would make it through the night.

But he did.

Nikto lived the next day, and then the next day, then the next and then the next day. Every day he lived was a miracle. Hutch, Roze and Askel poured their heart and souls into Nikto, and too their amazement, Nikto began to recover.

His skin started to grow back, his eyes fluttered open. His breathign relaxed, he started to talk.

And talk he did! He told them all about the humans. He warned them all. He made them all swear to protect themselves, to never let themselves fall into the wrong hands again. He made them swear to be strong, to always be healthy enough to shift into human forms. They promised, and they followed his word.

To this day, Nikto feels his heart drop when he hears someone has been adopted. He's made an initiative where each time one of their kin are adopted, another will follow them home to ensure they go to a safe home. They always make sure.

Nikto is still afraid of humans. It doesn't help that nobody really wants to adopt a cat like him... He's covered in scars now, scars that transfer to his human form. Despite how horrible he looks in his cat form, he'll stay in that form to avoid showing his human face. He's never forgotten the fear he felt when he saw his own eye staring back at him from within a fleshy socket, surrounded by redness and folds of scar tissue. He won't ever let anyone see his human face again, he swears by this.

Sometimes, someone will be foolish enough to ask Nikto if he'd consider trying to get adopted again. Nikto never says anything. He never has to. The way the whole room goes silent speaks volumes.

When he leaves them to stew in their own pity and misery, he'll think about what they said. He'll consider their words. A part of him wants to be adopted. He wants a warm, happy home. One like back at KorTac. He's been told KorTac was horrible, but when he was in the cage he had a roof over his head and three meals a day. He didn't go hungry, he didn't shiver at night. He was always safe.

Nikto, despite it all, still wants a home. Is he ready yet to find a human to trust? He doesn't know. He doesn't think he'll ever be ready, but he reminds himself that nobody is ever ready for change. It just happens. One day, a human will find him and love him for who he is, he holds onto that hope dearly.

Here's a quick ref of Nikto for you guys at home. Sadly, he can't really wear a mask in cat form, but at least he has a mask in human form. Still, despite how rough he looks, he still prefers living as a scarred cat than having to face his human form in the mirror again.

Oh, and as for the video? The one those teens made to make hundreds of thousands of dollars? The one that would make them filthy rich?

It made $97 USD.

[julesthequirky]

The Choice: Chapter Five

All my work is purely aimed at those 18+ so minors kindly, DNI.

Summary: You find three of your favourite characters in your home. It shouldn’t be possible, but there they are. In the flesh. How the hell did they get there? And surely there’s a way to get them back? But as you get close to each one, the thought of sending them back proves difficult to comprehend.

Characters/Pairings: Fem!Reader, Dean, Beau and Ben (Soldier Boy)

Warnings: Language, typical Soldier Boy behaviour.

W/C: 1,776

The smell of coffee enticed you as you were nudged awake. Opening your eyes, you saw Dean standing over you, a steaming mug in hand, wearing a bemused expression. From where he stood, you had slid down the couch arm in the night, legs akimbo, sticking out over the other couch arm, the fluffy socks a reason for his bemusement.

You must’ve slept at a funny angle cause your neck felt stiff as Hell. You struggled to sit up but managed, shifting the blanket so Dean could sit if he wanted to. You swiped a hand down your face, knuckles rubbing the sleep out of your eyes until you saw stars.

“Captain America, boot you out or something?”

You shook your head and accepted the mug from him.

“Ben snores like a Mack truck.”

“Ahh.”

He sat beside you, wearing the clothes he came in, minus his jacket.

“Well, Beau’s in the kitchen cooking up a storm. Hope you don’t mind. I saw you had a coffee maker. Hell, I’m surprised you didn’t wake up after all the noise it made. I was convinced you would. Beau checked on you, too. Said you were still sound asleep.” He chuckled lightly and waited expectantly.

Figures. You could sleep through a noisy coffee machine, but not Ben’s snoring.

You stared at the mug in your hands. God, it smelled so good. He reminded you of a kid who just wanted to impress their parents. He held the same energy. A pent-up kind of excitement. You brought the mug to your lips and sipped.

Holy fuck.

That was the best coffee you’ve ever tasted. Not too sweet, not too bitter and heated to perfection. Your tastebuds rejoiced in the flavour.

“Oh, shit.” You whispered.

“Good, right?”

He looked so proud of himself, so happy. And he had a right to be. You savoured the taste, closing your eyes. You’d tried with that coffee maker, but whoever designed it had made it as complicated as possible. You’d given up, pushing it to the back of the cupboard, leaving it to gather dust. You’d forgotten about it, lying to your then mother-in-law, who had gifted it to you and your husband as a wedding gift.

“Well, I’ll let you—yep.”

He slapped his thighs, stood up and left you alone with your coffee.

The warmth from the mug seeped to your core. Your ankles ached from exposure to the cold, and your back twinged from sleeping on the couch, but the coffee made up for it.

You heard Dean and Beau’s deep tones and laughter from the kitchen. Whatever Beau was doing, it smelt good. And it seemed that Dean and Beau were getting along. You could only hope that Ben would join their camaraderie.

Heavy footsteps thudded downstairs, pulling you from your thoughts, stopping you from checking on the two men in the kitchen.

Ben emerged wearing only his boxers. How did he manage to still look so good? His hair wasn’t exactly flawless, but it looked better than yours. Yours resembled a bird’s nest, but his made him look even sexier. It wasn’t fair, and it had you thinking. What would he look like after sex?

“You look like shit, y’know that?”

He sauntered in and took the seat beside you. He noted the mug in your hands and brazenly took it, downing the contents as you stared at him in shock.

“Fuck. That’s some good coffee, sweetcheeks.”

The audacity of this man was something else. And it only got worse. He handed back the empty mug and stood. He scratched his balls right in your eyesight, stretched, then tapped your knee.

“C’mon, getchur ass in the kitchen, I’m starvin’.”

All you could do was sit and stare at him, mug almost hanging from your hand. You blinked.

“Doll, if you don’t close your mouth, I’ll put it to good use.”

You clamped your mouth shut. Your brows bunched together in irritation, and you stood.

“Don’t talk to me like that. And you owe me a coffee.”

You barged past him, purposefully bumping into his arm on your way to the kitchen.

“Hey!” He barked.

You opened the kitchen door. Beau was at the stove, and Dean sat at your table, mug in hand.

“Hey! Don’t walk away from me, lady!”

A hand gripped your arm, swinging you around to face Ben. A chair scraped behind you.

“Hey, why don’t you cool it and step away, Marlboro Man?”

 “Fuck you, lumberjack.”

“Hey, hey!”

Beau’s deep shout reverberated around the room. You turned to see Beau standing at the stove, apron on, and wielding a spatula.

“Enough of the language, it’s too damn early to be fighting and yelling. Now let go of our host’s arm and put some damn clothes on.”

That shut him up. And you. And Dean. Ben let go of your arm and stormed away, back down the short hallway leading to the stairs. He disappeared up them.

You rubbed your arm and sat down, placing the empty mug on the table. Dean huffed, and you heard him mumble, “Ain’t no lumberjack…”

He sat pouting like a little kid. It was kinda cute, and your heart twinged. How could a grown-ass man make you feel like this? You wanted to put your arms around him and comfort him.

Then, as you were sitting there, it occurred to you that you hadn’t had a chance to tell them your name due to last night’s craziness. The thought never even occurred.

“I should probably tell you my name, huh?”

Dean snorted, instantly perking up.

“That would be nice. Finally, put a name to a face since you know ours.”

Dean gave you one of his award-winning grins, along with a cheeky wink. Then he downed the rest of his coffee and placed the mug on the side.

“I should probably wait until Ben’s back down, right?”

“Why? You don’t know how long he’s gonna be. How do you like your eggs?” Beau inquired.

“Scrambled. Please.” You added the pleasantry, remembering that he was the guest. “You didn’t have to do this, y’know.”

“Oh, I know, darlin’. Force o’ habit, I suppose. And Dean here was figuring out the coffee machine.” Beau said over his shoulder as he cracked a few eggs and whisked them in a bowl.

“Thing had a ton of dust, like, covered.”

“I couldn’t figure it out.” You admitted.

“Well, I’ll show you sometime…uh.”

“Y/N.” You finished for him.

“Y/N.”

The soft timbre of his voice gave your belly flutters. Oh, you could definitely get used to hearing your name slip from his lips, addicted even.

After a short wait, Beau placed a plate of bacon, scrambled eggs, and pancakes in front of you, setting your cutlery beside the plate. Holy Hell. Everything looked perfect. Dean rubbed his hands together in glee when Beau placed his plate down. He didn’t take a second to dive in, and then make his approval known. His moan shot down to your core, and your eyes fluttered in shock. It was too damn early. He couldn’t be making you feel this way. Shouldn’t, even.

“Damn, this…. this is…. mmmm.” Dean took another bite, not bothering to finish his thoughts.

You took your cue. The first forkful blew away your mind and tastebuds. And the sound that came from your lips rivalled Dean’s. Both Dean and Beau stopped to stare at you.

“Sorry…but damn…Beau…it’s so good.”

His cheeks turned pink, and he turned around to hide. You heard the spatula scraping against the pan as two more plates were made.

*

Dean, Beau, and Ben congregated in the living room, with you standing before them. Dean wanted to get started on the frames box, deciphering whatever was inscribed. But you had to make a food run and get these boys some clothes besides what they already wore. And as much as you loved them, there was no way in Hell you were letting them stay whilst you went out.

“Okay, if anybody asks, you’re brothers. Triplets, even. Last name, Smith.”

Ben snorted. “Ain’t no one gonna believe that, dollface.”

“And why not?” You demanded, already done with Ben’s antics today. “It’s totally plausible. You three look more like triplets than the set down the road.”

You put your hand to your head. Frustration bunched your muscles and had your jaw tensing.

“Just…get in the damn car.”

You stomped off, snatching the keys off the hook on the wall. You toed your sneakers on and grabbed the bags from the porch. From inside, you heard Dean reprimanding Ben.

“Why you gotta purposely annoy Y/N for? She’s tired, and you irritating her ain’t helping.”

You yawned, stretching your aching shoulders and neck whilst the guys traipsed out. Yanking on the handle, you stepped into the drivers seat. Your car was nothing special, a standard SUV. It was a couple years old, and the odometer was getting upwards of fifty thousand miles.

You rested your forehead on the steering wheel. Dean’s coffee and Beau’s breakfast had sustained you, but it seemed not enough for the task ahead.

“I call shotgun,” Beau exclaimed as he exited your house.

“The fuck you do!” Ben barked out.

“Alright, there’s a simple solution to this. Rock, paper, scissors. Winner gets the seat.” Dean reasoned.

From your wing mirror, you saw Dean pull the door handle up, successfully locking the door. Then they stood in a circle, and Dean declared on three they reveal. You could only make out Dean’s back and Beau’s side profile. His hair ruffled in the breeze as they stood and played their game.

Ben shouted out, calling bullshit, and stormed off.

The car door opened a moment later, slamming shut as Ben sat in the back. His jaw ticked, obviously stewing from the loss. You couldn’t help but smile. A light chuckle escaping your lips.

“The fuck you laughing at?”

You shrugged.

“Why didn’t you just sit in the passenger seat? What they gonna do? Drag you out?”

Ben furrowed his brow. He snorted and shook his head.

“Never damn occurred to me.”

Now you snorted. Figures. But it was too late now. Your passenger side door opened, and Beau heaved himself in beside you. Dean sat beside Ben. 

“Nothing like a good game of rock, paper, scissors.” Beau grinned as he buckled himself in.

“That’s cause you won.” Ben sulked.

“Aw, come on now, don’t be a Debby downer, just cause you lost. Fair and square. You picked rock, and Dean and I chose paper. Them’s the rules.”

“Still bullshit.” Ben mumbled, sulking in his seat, as you started the engine.

Tags:

@curlycarley, @angelbabyyy99, @sassy-pelican, @k-slla, @deans-spinster-witch

[bobluvbot]

drivers license

pairing: james potter x f!reader summary: 'cause he said forever, but now you drive alone past his street. notes: muggle&modern!au, angst, reader gets in a slight panic attack. james as your high school bf :') first fic in a looong while, pls be nice! 2.6k wc

The moment you set the parking brake on, the evaluator began writing furiously on the long sheet of paper. 

You should be combing through your actions and decisions for the twenty minutes that seemed to go by quickly, but you don’t. You know you did your best. You remembered what those green arrows and red signs meant. The yielding and the measured speeds. That the car follows where your eyesight lands so you have to be careful on what you set your focus on. Everything by the book.

Why is it that the things that stick would be those taught to us by the people who are simply not there anymore?

But then again, you remember that you also made hard brakes that made both you and the evaluator lurch an inch forward; and you got confused when he tried to distract you by fidgeting with the trinkets your mom left in her car and asking about it, like her work name tag. So who really knows if you get this or not? 

You probably wouldn’t. Damn, you already bought your own key ring and neck pillows for this car, and your mom called off from work for this---

“..you’ll be getting your license in a few days or so in the mail so continue checking for that.”

Your what? You stare at the man blankly as he hands you the sheet before unbuckling his seatbelt. You could tell he was confused at your blank stare, so he reiterates, “You passed. You have to go inside to get your temporary license, ‘cause the card one will take a while to arrive.”

You could have gone with a more sensible, mature choice of words. He always gushed about how he loved your wit whenever you both were writing or doing something with words. He would get this idea of a feeling he wants to put down, but it couldn’t fit in the tone he was going for, so he’d ask you for a word or a phrase that encapsulated all that. It would be a perfect fit most of the time; and if it wasn’t, he’d work around it and be stubborn about not changing it ‘till he has to (even if you assure him many times that you won’t get mad). You asked him once why, and he says so nonchalantly, as if he did not set alight fireworks and butterflies in your chest, that his works are collages of his feelings, memories, and the people he loved most. 

But despite all that, you were just able to give the evaluator an “Oh my god?!”, complete with a gaping mouth; to which he responds with an emotionless ‘congratulations’ before shutting the door and walking away.

When you got out of the car— still in disbelief and in confusion— you hyperfocus on how your parking was too askew that it took two spots in the lot.

You inwardly groan as the fact that you can legally be incarcerated now for driving above the speed limit when you’re late for class start to sink in more. 

Your mom would probably be so giddy once you meet her at the waiting area, carrying that tiny white slip that had ‘temporary license’ plastered across it, since she’s not going to pay for driving school anymore, plus the fact that she’ll be free from having to drive you to school and around the city anymore. 

To be honest, you weren’t planning for it to end like this. You– no you and James– actually had the perfect plan months prior. Test day would be on the twenty-fifth. You’d go around town by the twenty-sixth to go get party supplies, groceries for dishes he wanted to cook, and order his cake for pickup the day after. Then on his birthday, twenty-seventh of March, You’d come over to the Potter house to celebrate with everyone, and before the day ends, you’ll drive him around San Francisco. You’ll both pretend to be tourists, joining the crowd of visitors as they marvel at the city’s popular spots, as if you and James didn’t grow up having these places a short drive away. 

You love your home. Even with the everpresent traffic, lack of decent parking, and ridiculous prices of nearly everything the city sports, going home to the suburbs everyday provided balance. ‘We have the best of both worlds’, James would say. ‘We both can go out and be whoever we want in the city, but we still have the familiar quiet to go home to.’ 

He made loving this place easier— even if you can’t walk to the nearest McDonalds anymore since it’s a good drive away, far from having your old school, the library, the park, and a Walmart being in the same plaza back in your former suburb, a few minutes away from Los Angeles. Everything was more spaced out here, but you never felt the gaps in between destinations. You didn’t need to, especially when there’s always James, his beloved blue Chevy pickup he inherited from Monty for his fifteenth birthday, and his endless stories about football team practice that day or the most recent shenanigans Sirius and him had devised during Minnie’s AP English class, that kept you company. 

You grew to love this place as much you did home. So much so that you never considered leaving, while James apparently did.

“Y/N, do you still have somewhere to go? I’m heading in.” Your mom says as she taps on your window, shaking you from your reverie. You got home a while ago. She finished unloading all the groceries from the back to the kitchen inside. Those were multiple trips back and forth, yet you never noticed. A cold breeze runs past you despite the closed windows and you shiver. Not this again.

Rolling down your window, you give her the best smile you can muster up. “You can go ahead, Mom. I’ll try to drive around a bit on my own, you know, for practice.” You throw in an awkward chuckle hoping it was convincing enough for her to let you go.

“Don’t go too far now, it’s getting dark. Be back for dinner.”

You give her a nod and a smile. You wonder if she knew why, but you appreciate her for not prodding. You don’t even know why you’re acting like this.

After circling your block for the third time, you decide to park the car under a willow tree, taking time and effort to park flush against the curb for no reason at all. You just think maybe somewhere, somehow, a familiar voice will pop up behind you and gush about your near-perfect parking skills.

It was, what, two months ago?, that you saw that car sticker on James’ Etsy cart that said ‘cute girls hit curbs’. It was right after a (semi-successful) driving session after school, and James decided that it was a parallel parking day. He had knowingly directed you to a busy city street, where the only available parking was street parking, and everyone seemed to get the memo of his evil agenda and parked irregularly, leaving you with little to no choice but to squeeze your mom’s family van in between them. 

With a number of curb hitting that would’ve sent your mother’s insurance agent to consider hiking up prices just for the fact, you were close to tears. 

James was quick to drop his teasing smirk as he saw how your face fell, dejected. With a warm smile, he placed a hand on your shoulder and gently reassured you, 'Hey, you did this perfectly on your own a few hours ago, you got this, doll.”

“No, James,” you choke out, trying to stifle down the sobs down your throat. Someone honks behind you, and your body took it as a cue to start hyperventilating, the shivers making its way down the nimble fingers clutching the wheel hard. “I don’t think I can, there’s so many cars—”.

James was quick to roll down his window to gesture something to the other car. Could be an expletive to tell them to fuck off or a kind wave to tell them to go ahead (James could’ve easily done both), but the car moves away nonetheless, returning you both back to the earlier predicament.

He tried to redirect your attention back to him without touching you, nicknames and encouraging words leaving his mouth out of habit. He learned from past experiences that in moments where you get overwhelmed with something, touch could either jolt you back to him or spur on a full on panic attack. His attempts were futile, however, as you were too entranced by watching the side mirror closest to you, flinching each time a car passes the van, even making it lurch forward if the oncoming traffic goes too fast and too close. 

Unbuckling his seatbelt and placing the car on park in quick succession, he reached over the console and gently cupped your face in both his hands, tilting your chin up to meet his soft hazel gaze. James had always looked intimidating; the most rambunctious one in his kindergarten class, the one who stood up against taller students that pick on the quiet ones, and once the growth spurt kicked in he quickly rose up the ranks, from little league to your magnet high school’s uber-selective football team. 

But he also had the kindest of eyes, those precious ones where you don’t even have to look hard and wonder what they’re feeling as it provides a window straight to their soul. It’s always a gift to feel his gaze on you, to have the privilege of knowing where the seven tiny specks of green in each iris merge with the honey brown. 

He gently cupped your face in both hands, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. “Eyes on me, pretty.” 

James’ best trait was not patience, both of you had established that when you met in middle school. But when he got to know you and your tender-hearted nature, he tried his damndest to learn how. It’s crazy to think how much time spent in love can change a person inherently. You could’ve met James right then and there, and think he’s a natural. 

You shift your focus on his warm palms on your trembling cheeks, on his steady breathing. It slowed yours and soon became in sync with his. “There’s my girl. Let’s try again, hm? I'll guide you through it.”

Compelled by a mystical force, likely strong love and devotion to the boy who sat beside you, who looked at you like you’re capable of doing all things beautifully (one of which is parallel parking, apparently), you found yourself behind the wheel again with renewed vigor.

As you carefully edged the car towards the parking spot, James leaned over, his hand lightly resting on your thigh. “A little to the left,” he murmured.

“Turn the wheel slowly.” 

Firm hand on your shoulder, his steady presence gave you confidence to make adjustments based on your gut. “You're doing great, love.” You couldn’t see, but you felt the smile in James’ voice. 

Before you knew it, you were parked, albeit a snug fit. You heard shuffling, then you were wrapped in a tight embrace, bodies twisted in weird angles because you both forgot that unbuckling the belts were an option. “Knew you could do it, baby.”

You tried to throw some light punches to his chest despite your difficult position. “I still hate you for subjecting me to Geary street traffic.”

“Gotta throw you out on the deep end to learn how to swim!” he’d said, earning him a slap on the chest.

You laughed at that time, but maybe you should’ve taken that as a hint to what came next.

-

To kill time, you decide to take a picture of your temporary license and edit it for an instagram story. 

You get more and more lost through pictures and stories posted, trying to forget what you saw, that you forgot why you opened the app in the first place.

You wished, during the driving lessons, that you’d bothered to ask him, not only how to yield for an unprotected turn but also to live without him. So that you can make the most out of your senior year. So that you can drive around San Francisco without lugging a heavy heart. So that you could write songs again that weren’t about loss. So that you could be okay now that he’s gone. 

Mom says he’s not gone gone. He’s just off to college. You would be, too, soon enough. You could go to Yale too so you can be together. You give her a nod to satisfy her, to let her know it was something you’re considering; but in all honesty, you just wanted her to stop.

You and James weren’t perfect. There were ugly fights and soaked pillows and days spent without talk, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything better. You learned to finally befriend life because hatred was just too consuming to carry everyday. It was replaced with something bright and lovely you can carry around to keep you company. You’ve never felt anything remotely similar to it before. Somehow, someway, the warmth always came by when James was with you. 

One night while laying in his bed, after a long session of application essay revision, he tells you that Sirius broke off his long-term relationship because of college.

“What, why?”

He shrugs. “They’re heading to different ones.”

You were waiting for more details but he remained silent. “Just because of that?” You laugh. “That’s dumb.”

Now it was his turn to ask. “Why’s that?”

“It’s just college, Jamie. It’s just like when we go spend the holidays or summers with family. We don’t break up. We work around it. Because we know it’s not permanent. Nothing worth ruining a good relationship over.” You scoff, shifting your gaze from his hazel eyes to the white of your ceiling. “What a waste, I actually thought they were it for each other.”

He was silent. You turned to face him and he just gazed at you with an unreadable expression. “We’ll make it work like we always did, right, Jamie?”

He kissed your forehead in response. “Always.”

-

That was six months ago. 

Your knuckles turn white, a stark contrast to the black leather as you clutch the wheel as hard as you can. You could barely see through the tears that run uncontrollably down your cheeks. 

How can he be so okay now that I’m gone? 

You floor the brakes hard, flinging yourself forward before getting yanked back by the seatbelt. Some kid had kicked their red and gold striped ball towards the street. 

“Sorry!” You wave at the kids, signalling that it was okay. That they didn’t just give you a heart attack right then and there. 

You wipe your tears away in haste. It’s probably time to head home. Maybe these rogue feelings were just due to your sugar levels dropping, making both your mind and vision hazy.

But when you check your left if there’s something there you could hit, your eyes get caught on a familiar view. 

The Potter house. Same as before. It’s almost as if he’d go barreling out the doors to meet you outside, envelop you into a bear hug, and spin until you both feel dizzy with laughter. Now, his bedroom’s dark. A reminder that he’s not there. Your Jamie isn’t home anymore.

You head back to your house for dinner. 

[blackdollette]

"got your bible, got your gun." || part seven.

꒰ ៹ . " 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆. "

west coast. - lana del rey

୨୧˖-ׁ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: cheers to a job well done...

꒰ ៹ . ୨୧˖ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: new ! bau ! female ! reader x jealous ! spencer

꒰ ៹ . ୨୧˖ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.0k

꒰ ៹ . ୨୧˖ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: spencer gets drunk, implications of sex

ㅤㅤㅤ꒰ ៹ . 🍒 previous chapters: 𝐈 , 𝐈𝐈 , 𝐈𝐈𝐈 , 𝐈𝐕 , 𝐕 , 𝐕𝐈

“well if it isn’t the BAU’s very own ladykiller.”

derek sauntered over to the barstool next to spencer’s, his teasing comment followed by a firm slap on spencer’s back. 

the news had spread around the team like wildfire. spencer had been in bed, and not alone. the warm, small motel room that insisted on minimal clothing, the late night, and the tiny bed that you were forced to share all made the perfect recipe for a night of passionate lovemaking. surely, you and he were both fully aware that nothing went on within the thin walls of the motel, but no one was willing to swallow that important piece of information. but even with all the accusing stares and whispers, the case had been solved and wrapped up perfectly. and now you were all at the bar celebrating.

spencer groaned, shooting derek a warning glare. “knock it off, man. she’s right there.” 

their eyes shifted in unison to the area of the bar that held you. in the months that spencer had known you, he would’ve never thought that it was your scene. so his surprise was nearly immeasurable when he saw you sitting under the colourful lights, chatting it up with a guy who was the polar opposite of him.

a low whistle fell from derek’s pursed lips.

“she sure is something else, i’ll give you that.” he muttered, swishing around the bottle of beer in his hand before taking a short swig.

spencer bit back a futile protest. despite not having a single article of his clothing removed during that night with you, he definitely had woken up with the same thrill that came after an intense hookup. especially after waking up to the feeling of you clinging to him like he was your lifeline.

“...c’mon, morgan…” spencer said defeatedly, “...you know i’m not the type to sleep with a woman i barely know.”

derek feigned offense to the direct reference to his love life. “maybe not, but i think you know a lot more about that girl than you let on.”

derek let hit words linger, standing up from the chair and strolling over to where most of the action was and leaving spencer alone with his thoughts.

he had slept in the same bed with you, but that was as far as it went. he repeated that to himself like a mantra, forcing himself to believe that nothing else had happened while you were under those sheets with him.

so if that were the truth, why did he feel that pang of indignation from seeing you with a man who clearly wouldn’t be able to handle your prowess?

he felt unbearably out of place in this setting and here you were, blending in effortlessly. spencer had noticed your ability to do so the day you had met, and he wasn’t any less amused.

however, there had been some truth in derek’s words. he knew a lot more about you than he was willing to accept. that short night with you had allowed him to get the aroma of your hair that the pillow had soaked up. he knew your shoe and clothing size, found out your birthday from stealing a glance at your license, and was pleased to discover that you shared the same disadvantage regarding eyesight. 

“there’s my favourite roommate. i’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

spencer flinched. as usual, you always seemed to appear whenever he was in a deep train of thought. he clutched his unopened beer a little tighter.

“don’t call me that. it was only one night.”

you rolled your eyes, taking the seat next to him and letting your elows rest on the granite counter, a few drops of alcohol scattered across the surface.

“oh c’mon, spencer. don’t be like that. don’t you think everyone’s giving me a hard time too?” you put up air quotes. “last member of the unit but first to get in spencer’s pants. i’ve heard it all tonight.” 

spencer tried to hide the furious blush that stained his cheeks, the warm toned but dim lighting working in his favour. “don’t you live for that kind of attention?”

you scoffed. “touche. but i’m not willing to let you off the hook for calling me an attention whore.”

spencer’s expression tinted with slight annoyance. “how much have you had to drink tonight? you’re even more… ‘you’ than usual.”

you shook your head. “i don’t drink. i’m not good with alcohol. and judging by that unopened beer, i can tell that you aren’t either.”

you and your damn perfect profiling skills.

spencer didn’t hesitate to snap back. “actually i just got it. so if you could just give me a second…”

he began to struggle to get the metal cap off the bottle. derek had done it so effortlessly, and now here he was struggling right in front of you. he brought the bottle to his mouth, popping off the cap with his teeth. judging by the way your eyebrows slightly inched upward, he had finally managed to impress you.

he took a swig from the bottle and nearly gagged from the taste. he never understood how something as repulsive as alcohol could become addictive, but one sip had turned to two, and before he knew it he had reached the last sip.

you were surprised that he had downed an entire bottle of beer within 5 minutes. even you were willing to admit how gross the drink was.

but what didn’t shock you, not even in the slightest, was that spencer reid was a total lightweight, already tripping over his words and hiccuping like a fool. it simply didn’t take a genius to figure that out.

~~~

the drive home was as normal as could be when you had a drunken agent in the passenger seat next to you. you practically had to carry him out of the bar and knew right off the bat that he was in no shape to get behind a wheel. so, you figured, why not have another night with him? it was already becoming a little pattern between you two.

just one night of having him on your couch couldn’t hurt…

[letruyuread]

I've decided to continue the small thoughts thing, even if I haven't done their books yet. Some might be ooc. I've tried🥲

Vil knows he's beautiful. With makeup, without, in a gorgeous outfit or simple sweats. It just means a little bit more when you tell him he's gorgeous and he wasn't even trying. He just woke up, and you're already showering him with affection. He IS gorgeous- but could you say it one more time, please?

Rook... hold on. (Rapid fire research go!) He, of course, thinks you're beautiful. He may be stalkerish, like he is with Leona and the twins, but it's all in good intentions. You're interesting! He is a hunter, after all. I think his heart softens when you pay attention to him, to. Say something to him in French, or listen to his poetry. Compliment his eyesight. He'll fall a little bit harder. (Can you tell how much I relied on the wiki-)

I already love Epel, despite not having met him yet. He wants to be reliable for you- a real man! Yes, he's adorable, don't tell him that, he'll pout. Just let him help you. Anything, really, he'll carry your books or help you fix up Ramshackle. He'll get flustered in you ask him to teach you the apple-carving thing, though.

Idia was the one who got me to play the game (just like me fr). You'll have to befriend Ortho first- not hard, just find the little guy and be nice! He'll quickly start to see you as an older sibling the more you help him (please I want to adopt this kid). And, you're the perfect person to help his brother come out of his shell! Ortho will introduce you two, help Idia overcome his shyness (on occasion) and soon Idia's comfortable around you! Mission accomplished! Idia, then, lets you into his room and plays games with you. He tries to communicate with you, though them- it's just a bit easier to play a dating sim with you than to ask you out.

(oof fae time)

Malleus is awkward in an odd way. He's not shy or nervous, he simply doesn't know how to interact with you. He's trying, forgive him if he says the wrong thing, he never ever meant to insult you. In fact, he might already think you're betrothed- you'll have to put it to him gently that you weren't even dating, and that relationships usually go much slower than that. He learns quick, at least.

Lilia is old. That is undeniable, and it's funny to think he's going to college with his sons. He plays into his silliness, loving to surprise you and prank you and such. He loves to play into his age, too. Whenever you get a bit too mad, he's suddenly complaining about his back, all hunched over and holding his spine. See through his antics. Give him the scolding he deserves, I beg you. It won't stop him at all- this is how faes court, after all! (No it's not old man-)

Sebek is intense. He does exactly as he said he would when taking an interest in someone: writing them love letters every moon, and every fifth moon, including a picture of himself. It's what Lilia taught him! Yes, he's taking it very seriously! It's up to you to tell him Lilia may have been tricking him... and/or taking over the courting yourself. You'll never get anywhere, otherwise. Just be... patient.

Silver... is tired. Yes, such a surprise. He's a sweetie, though, always trying to help you out while stifling a yawn. His animal friends give you gifts, too. Nuts and seeds and feathers. Keep them in a small box- if Silver finds out, he'll be so touched. He told his friends to give you this stuff! And you kept them! Did you even realize they were from him? Doesn't matter, as long as they made you happy.

(I hope I did well!)

[baldurs-writers-3]

Wyll Ravengard: A Baldur's Gate 3 Fanfic Rec List

This week, we have Wyll Focused fics! Check under the cut for ten incredible fics all about our favorite folk hero, Wyll Ravengard. And as always, comment and kudos if you like them!

Blood-seeking Blade by specimenbag (24809, Teen) Content Notes: Canon-Typical Violence Pairings: Astarion/Wyll

The end of the world must be nigh, Wyll thought, if Wyll of the Griffins spares a monster and lets him be a bloody traveling companion. Or, the series where Wyll is a Witcher, and Astarion is the vampire he saved

Reccer says: I love literally everything about this AU. The author includes helpful notes to explain witcher terminology so its very accessible. The vibes are immaculate and the characterizations are so well done.

Nothing Like the Sun by odessacastle (159772, Mature) Content Notes: None Pairings: Astarion/Wyll

Wyll and Astarion meet before his exile! Fate wants things to proceed down a similar path, however.

Reccer says: It's neat to see two canon companions have the 'oh shit we knew each other before this tadpole bullshit!!' that you normally just see more OC focused, it makes for very different starting interactions. Also man Wyll is bad at vampire spotting.

the blade falls by PurpleCatGhost (4097, Teen) Content Notes: None Pairings: Wyll & Friends

Wyll used to know his own limits fairly well, but that was before the tadpole. Besides that, having friends you can rely on is also a new experience, though at least this one is a nice one

Reccer says: I really enjoy Wyll realizing just a little bit too late that his injuries are worse than he thought, and then everyone's response to that being "How dare you not tell us you needed help >:("

Bouquet of the Frontiers by Tavylia_Sin (5796, General) Content Notes: Pairings: Wyll & Friends

Wyll tries to spend the tiefling party off on his own. His friends decide they would much rather adorn him in flowers and affirmations instead.

Reccer says: Very sweet. The found family vibes are impeccable

Hells Escape Pact by ushauz (17613, Teen) Content Notes: None Pairings: Karlach/Wyll, Astarion/Wyll, Astarion/Karlach, Astarion/Karlach/Wyll

A bit of a 'bad end' for three of the companions. Wyll is a proper demon type in Hell, Karlach never got out, and Astarion got sacrificed in the ritual. What now?

Reccer says: Bad end doesn't have to be bad forever!

Window to the Soul by normal_thoughts_official (653, Mature) Content Notes: depersonalization Pairings:

little snippets from wyll's childhood, through his time as the blade and how he sees himself as a person (and not)

Reccer says: for a short story it packs a damn punch, left me emotional

Saviour Complex by fantailsock (12246, Mature) Content Notes: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Pairings: Wyll and Friends, minor Astarion/Wyll

Five times someone helped Wyll out and one time he helped himself.

Reccer says: I'm always a sucker for found family and the team forcing someone to learn how to value themselves, and this fic is perfect for that

Less Than Ideal by jeejaschocolate (5021, General) Content Notes: some internalized ableism and drinking to cope Pairings: Astarion/Wyll

Being burned by hellfire left Wyll with poor eyesight in his solitary eye. Astarion notices. Of course, he can’t keep his opinions to himself.

Reccer says: Lovely exploration of vulnerability

a story better than the real thing by not_whelmed_yet (1100, General) Content Notes: N/A Pairings: N/A

Wyll is alone in the woods, in the wilderness, and the heroes of his youth spoke only of victory so maybe he can convince himself of it, too.

Reccer says: a wonderful character study of Wyll as the Blade of Frontiers - creating a storybook persona so he can try and distract himself from the miserable realities of his current situation. very sad. very fascinating.

And then we have three recs for the following: Allemande by adrezarach (7255, Explicit) Content Notes: None Pairings: Wyll/Tav, Wyll & Ulder Ravengard

Wyll is developing a crush on Tav and comes to realize that they’ve met before, when they were amongst the nobility of Baldur’s Gate! An introspective character study of Wyll, touching on how his life intersects with Tav’s over the course of nine years. He dances, he dreams, and he thinks about the storybook hero he wants to be.

Reccer #1 says: I really enjoyed this read and the author has a Wyll voice that feels very distinctive and true to character. Reccer #2 says: The author has a distinctive and poignant Wyll-voice, and the contrast between the timeframes of the fic is really interesting. Reccer #3 says: The author has such a strong grasp of Wyll’s character and a distinctive narrative voice that suits him really well. I love how they played with past and present so that the reader can see his changing thoughts over his life pre and post pact. It’s a strong piece as a stand-alone, but it’s clear the author has long term plans for this characterization and this dynamic. One of my favorite wyll-centric wylltav pieces.

The above fanfic recommendations were pulled from our community for this weekly event. Have any questions about what this is? Check out the FAQ!

Next week, we’ll be back with the evergreen trope, Misunderstandings!

[marlsswrites]

A footballer and a figure skater

Ice skating AU, part 4!!

August 4th - words: 733

First part Previous part

James’ mum usually laughed at his new found habit, you see, ever since he found Regulus in the bookstore, he’d made a deal to always meet his mother at the ice rink. And he just so happened to catch Regulus skating, he would deny that that was his intention, but that was a lie. He longed to see the roaring, icy, flame that was Regulus.

He wanted to talk to the boy, he really did, but he always seemed to disappear right out of James’ lustful eyesight as soon as he managed to get close enough to see those dark grey eyes. Those same eyes that held up to crashing waves and stormy clouds right inside them, flowing and piercing into James like a bloody, sharpened, shining dagger to his heart.

Until one very long day, he debated giving up. He walked into the building after football practice, the field was only a two minute walk away yet he was still sweating from his previous game. Lifting his shirt up to his face, he wiped the clearly forming beads of sweat from his forehead and huffed as he dropped the shirt back down to cover his toned, tan chest.

He would make an excuse every single time he came here, telling him mum that he’d take her for a meal (he’s going to go broke if this carries on) or that he was simply just bored out of his mind.

But his only true excuse was seeing that thin waist and cheekbones sharp and straight as freshly cut stone.

That day he was running slightly late, he was exhausted and if he hadn’t promised his mum he’d meet her there before she finished, he probably would’ve just gone home.

But oh he is so glad he didn’t.

“Mum?” He called round the corner when he noticed the footsteps he heard were, in fact, not his mother’s.

As he turned the corner he crashed face first into a smaller figure with a grunt. The other person stumbled backwards, steadying themselves on their feet quickly. They looked at James with an utterly disgusted expression before it morphed into something far more confused.

“Are you fucking stalking me or something?” He spat.

As James looked at his face, that was only when he realised it was the one person he’d been looking for.

Some might say it’s fate, others might say that it’s James’ severe stubbornness, because when he wants something - god he can be convincing.

At least he hopes so.

“No- no!” He gasped out. “My mum works here, I was meeting her here.” The confused expression shifted to one of recognition, a crease forming between his eyebrows on the pale skin of Regulus’ face. “I didn’t even know she coached you.” James lied, hoping the tremor of his voice didn’t give his nerves away.

“Oh.” James watched as the other boy caught his bottom lip between his teeth, James only now noticing the glint of a silver ball on his tongue.

God.

“You’re Effie’s son.” He deadpanned.

“The one and only!” James grinned.

The other boy gave a snort, it was short and probably sarcastic, yet it was still there. James always wanted to make him laugh, he’s never really seen the man smile, but he’s sure one would look absolutely beautiful on his already perfected face.

“Now don’t flatter yourself.” He scoffed.

James only grinned, looking the man before him up and down rather slowly, no shame present at all. He was still dressed in all black, the outfit - like he said - was skintight and certainly not helping James while he tried to form actual words and not make himself look like an idiot.

“You’re staring.” Regulus pointed out, a sly smirk present on his lips.

“Hm?” James stared into those grey irises and gave a faux innocent shrug, messing his hair around on his head with a small shake before looking back up to only see a raised eyebrow. “My friend liked the book.”

“Nice topic change.”

James laughed. “I take what I can get.”

“I’m glad.” He paused. “About the book.” The raven haired boy gave a shake of his head, his curls moving softly around his face as he did so. “I’ve got to go, bye James.” He offered a nod, and then he was gone. Only leaving James to stare after him with a strange ache in his chest.

Next part