#mlm one-shot

[khaopybara]

can you hurry up and get this done? once their boss gets arrested, this will end.

DUNK NATACHAI as STYLE SATTAWAT episode 6 of THE HEART KILLERS

[godjustkys]

gregory house smut drabble because im going crazy and have no motivation to write.

It was late at night. Gregory was leaning against his desk, in his office, hands holding the table's edge firmly. His right leg was in mild pain, but he could bear it. He'd have to. Especially with your hand around his cock, jerking him off so fucking sensually. It was driving him wild.

How did you get so close, he'll never know, but hell, if everything about you is as good as your hand, he'd keep you around. His eyes were shut tight, relishing in the feeling of you stroking him so well, in a way no one ever has before. Gregory let out a small grunt, his face scrunching up. You were standing in front of him, your body blocking his perfectly. No one would even suspect a thing if they saw you through the glass door. He did his best to keep his breathing steady. His hips moved involuntarily a couple times, thrusting up into your hand. Poor guy's breathing stuttered and he had to press his lips into a thin line to keep the near-guttural, loud sounds from escaping. You've been going at it for quite a bit. Just for a distraction, as Gregory said.

His body twitched and he leaned forward, hunching up slightly. His hand instantly managed to grip your wrist, albeit it didn't make you stop your stroking. Gregory squeezed your hand as he came with a shudder, holding his breath to keep everything at bay. In the end, he breathed out a deep sigh, his chest heaving.

“what the actual fuck..” he mumbled to himself, finally opening his eyes, his leg twinging weirdly. “am I gay?”

[kitchen-spoon]

Eddie heard the tell tale signs of Steve’s sleepy shuffling feet and he already knew how this was gonna go. He sat up in bed further, placing his phone down and glancing at his alarm clock.

1:00 am.

The red numbers shone back at him, same as always. Steve always came home no later than one when he went over to Robin’s on Saturday nights to smoke weed, do skin care, and watch movies.

“Hey baby,” Eddie smiled at the sight of his bleary eyed sleepy boyfriend.

Steve dropped his things by the bedroom doorway and walked over to the bed, plopping himself onto Eddie’s lap and into his welcoming arms.

“C’mere.’ Eddie pulled him in closer hands threading in Steve’s hair. He held his boyfriend close until the man in his arms grew impatient and began to roll his hips against Eddie’s own. “Okay, I know what you want honey.” He placed a kiss on Steve’s forehead. “Let me take care of you.” He pulled back and began peeling Steve’s clothes off.

Once Steve was naked Eddie lifted the covers, prompting Steve to crawl under them and right back into his arms. They lay on their Sides, Eddie holding Steve close to his chest as they sloppily made out, chests heaving, hips rolling. Their increaseingly hardening cocks rubbing against one another, precoming leaking and smearing across them.

“So sweet.” Eddie cooed, pulling back before diving against Steve’s lips for one last kiss. Then he suddenly pushed steve back and turned him over, yanking him back against his chest. His now fully hard cock nestled between Steve’s ass cheeks. “Feel so good.”

“Eddie.” Steve mewled, making noises beyond grunts for the first time since they began. He rolled his hips back desperately, feeling Eddie’s cock slide up over the sensitive skin between his hole and balls nudging there until it moved up pushing against his balls, smearing them with precum.

“Thats right.” Eddie encouraged, he reached between them to lube up his cock and Steve’s asshole. He savoured the way Steve mewled, thrusting up against him harder. “So Amazing baby.”

“Please,” Steve mustered up the words to beg. His voice wobbled as he desperately pushed back against Eddie . He whined as Eddie’s hands clamped down on his his hips stilling them. But the whines soon turned to moans as he turned Steve over once again, slotting their chests as they once were. “Yes.” Steve hissed as he felt Eddie’s cock nudge against his hole.

“Jesus your perfect,” Eddie cussed as Steve threw his thigh up over Eddie’s hips slotting them even closer together.

“Fuck me.” Steve pleaded again. “Need it baby please. Just want you to fuck me and keep me filled all night.”

Eddie finally thrust in, hissing as Steve’s nails dug into his back, his boyfriend’s entire body constricting around his. Steve began to loosen up as Eddie thrusts his hips, working them up to a sharp snap that left Steve clinging to him for dear life.

Steve cried and moaned, eyes closed, face tucked away in Eddie’s neck as he was fucked. He bit into Eddie’s shoulder when he finally came, toes curling as his teeth sunk into flesh. His entire body jerking in Eddie’s grip. 

“No keep going.” Steve slurred as he felt Eddie slowing. “You know I want it.” He begged.

Eddie groaned, hips snapping up at a brutal pace as he grabbed Steve’s face and mushed it against his own in a wet open mouth kiss that had both of them panting in one another’s mouths.

Steve clenched when he felt Eddie’s hips stutter out of rthym, slamming up into him jerkily as he came “Yes! Give it to me.” He cried, rocking his hips to milk eddie’s cock.

“All yours.” Eddie panted as he thrust his hips up one final time, using his hands on Steve’s waist to slam him down onto his cock and hold him there. “All filled up.”

“Mm so full.” Steve’s voice was already fading, face tucked into Eddie’s neck, arms wrapped around him.

Eddie smiled, giving himself a moment to brush Steve’s hair off his forehead and tangle the locks between his fingers as he caught his breath. When he next looked down Steve was fast asleep. He grabbed a baby wipe from the bedside table and wiped them down the best he could. Then he turned the lamp off and held steve close, cock still shoved inside as he closed his eyes.

Another typical Saturday bedtime.

[tatiejosie]

Extremely specific but somewhat fun what-if scenario: erasing Donald's memories of his death also erases the memory of his relationship with Cecil, so everytime he dies, Cecil has to initiate things again and it's a whole ordeal because Donald's autistic ass is overly cautious

[moonlit-knightz]

this looks like a scene from a gay indie film where the couple go somewhere and get called the f slur.

and miguel doesn’t want any trouble, but robby’s fed up with homophobia so he gets ready to beat their ass.

[f4nrir]

I'm so feral for Miguel and I have monster fucker brainrot

Reader that has some tentacle power ande Miguel has some extremely horny thoughts about them

One night , reader goes to check on Miguel bc he was late and he was never late for their patrols and he sees Miguel desperately fucking himself with a tentacle dildo and moaning readers name.

Reader offers help and Miguel gets his fantasy of getting filled with tentacles and getting fucked by the reader fulfilled

fulfilled fantasies

一 pairing; miguel o'hara x symbiote!m!reader

note: hi anon, i've been wanting to do something with a symbiote and i hope you don't mind i experimented with it through this request. it was fun to write!

cw: bottom!miguel, monsterfucking, tentacles/symbiote tendrils, unprotected anal, toys, slight dacryphilia.

word count: 1.4k

revealing your power to him, you thought you would scare him away, but it did the complete opposite to miguel. his thoughts began to wander whenever you were around him, mainly when you would openly use your ability during a mission or when you were working together. he vividly remembers wanting a cup of coffee and you extended your arm out, and the symbiote that was bound to you mindlessly made the coffee for him as you focused on the work you had at hand.

it flustered him, but the uncontrollable thoughts he’d get made it unbearable to be around you. what made it worse was that the spandex suit he wore all the time did not make it any easier for him, as it wrapped tightly around his bulge. during missions, he would get lost in thought as you fought and easily defeated the threats at hand. the way your tentacles would wrap around the individual and how much control you had over them made him envious, as he wanted to feel you all around him. like a predator with its prey, unable to move and forced to submit to your control. 

out of pure desperation, he ordered toys in an attempt to get his fix. he acknowledged it was not the same, and he thought about you every time he used it on himself. as perverted as it already was, he decided to look through the cameras from patrols you would do together when you would use them. it was enough to make him come, but the way he craved for you made his need grow stronger but knew he could not do anything about his fantasy.

one particular night, miguel got caught up and forgot that you both had patrol. you shook your head and looked down at your watch, reading the time to realize he was almost half an hour late. you didn’t realize time had gone by so quickly and it worried you because miguel was never late for your patrols, as he prioritized the well-being of others more than anything else. you messed with your travel watch in an attempt to contact him but there was no answer, so you checked his location and he was in his office. you found it odd and your thoughts began to jump to conclusions that you didn’t like, encouraging you to go back to the base to check up on him.

when you arrived at the base, you began to dread what you may find when you enter his office. “miguel?” you called out as you jumped from pillar to pillar to get onto his platform but to your surprise, he wasn’t there. you checked your travel watch once again to see where he was until you heard soft moans coming from a nearby room. the hairs on the back of your neck stood when you realized that was miguel and you jumped down to find that room, intently listening to the sounds he made.

“ah mierda, please use me!” he moaned on the other side of this particular door and you were frightened, not wanting to walk in on him having sex with someone else that wasn’t you. he countered those thoughts when you heard your name, eyes widening as you opened the door just enough to get a peek inside. there he was, the leader of the spider society, on all fours with a machine that was fucking him from behind with a screen that had your recordings on it. the way he was desperately touching himself while increasing the pace of the machine made your heart flutter and your cock tighten in your suit.

“you’re into them that much?” you piped up as you leaned against the door frame with your arms crossed, opening the door to expose the tentacles that surrounded you.

“wh– oh my fuck, i am so sorry–” he frantically apologized and you closed the door behind you, locking it so no one could walk in.

“sorry for?” you took a step closer towards him as one of the tentacles made its way to miguel, lifting up his chin while the others made their way to various areas of pleasure.

miguel heaves at the contact of one on his cock as it began to wrap itself around him, causing him to tremble with every touch. his face was flushed and beads of sweat glistened on his forehead, you were enjoying this scenery bestowed upon you.

“open,” you ordered and he complied, his jaw slack for the other to use. you moaned at the contact as you could feel pleasure through the endings of each one, making it a blessing yet a curse. miguel sucked on it with such pride and pleasure, surprisingly taking it better than you thought he would. in an attempt to express his gratitude, he began to moan your name but every space in his mouth was filled. he was only able to mumble, which sent vibrations to the tentacle from his throat, causing you to jump from the sensations.

you bent down to his level, grabbing his jaw with your hand to make him look back up at you. “what do you want? tell me,” the tentacle swiftly left his mouth, giving him a chance to speak. he whined and was obviously shy, unable to get the words out of him. “you shy? it’s too late to go back now, look at yourself” whispering it in his ear, you felt him melt under your touch and gave him an encouraging look to speak up for himself.

“fuck me. i want all of it inside me, as much as you can fill me with. please,” he begged and you chuckled, nodding your head. “if that’s what you want,” you tapped on the emblem on your chest to discard the suit, exposing your muscles underneath. miguel gasped and watched your every move, admiring your body and especially your hardened cock that slapped against your stomach. you pushed him down onto his back, positioning yourself as you took control and let the tentacles wander. you slowly slipped inside of him as the others began to wrap around his limbs, targeting his most vulnerable areas. a loud moan slipped out of miguel, and you hushed him by stuffing his mouth, not wanting to get caught with the sight of both of you like this.

your hips began to move involuntarily, as the symbiote took control of your body and did most of the work for you. miguel was a mess, tears ran down his face as you penetrated him in ways that he always wanted to. one after another, more of the tentacles began to penetrate him until he was screaming against you to stop from how much it hurt. knowing that you were hurting him and hearing his cries satisfied you, getting off to the torture he was enduring.

you wished you could stay in this moment, having miguel pinned underneath you, as you fucked him relentlessly and abusing his body with the fantasy he always craved from you. how can a leader and a strong man like him be trapped beneath you, losing himself because of tentacles wrapped around his body? each thrust was like torture for him; when you looked down, you could see a huge bulge forming in his stomach.

miguel couldn’t do anything but cry, knowing that fighting back wasn’t going to help. feeling helpless and used, yes, that’s what he liked. that is what he’d been wanting ever since you showed this side of yourself and his cravings only got stronger over time and now he’s gotten what he wants.

after a few more thrusts, you felt yourself nearing your climax as the pressure from the tendrils and his walls only tightened around you. “miguel… i can’t hold it any longer,” you mumbled and his eyes widened, attempting to push your hips away. however, you caved into your desires and filled him up with your cum. you could not stop, that was part of the ability. you had so much to release and the tentacle in his mouth filled his throat, forcing him to swallow all of it. the floor was painted with your cum, while miguel’s coated his stomach along with a tentacle that was wrapped around him a moment ago. 

the tendrils had retracted from his body, leaving miguel on the floor and unable to move from what you’ve done. he flashed you a smile, then covered his face in embarrassment. “did you get your fix?” you teased before playfully slapping his chest as you sat there in defeat, taking a look around and realizing how much you had to clean up.

“yes… the real thing was better…” he slowly sat up and pulled your face closer to his, your lips only inches away from one another. your breath hitched in your throat, as you felt his fangs lightly graze your lips. “let’s skip patrol, yeah?” he whispered against you and pressed your lips together, wrapping his arm around your shoulder to pull you down with him. 

[lemonsprite]

𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭 || 𝐑𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐨 𝐱 𝐆𝐍! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞

Summary: you’re always there to pull him from his thoughts Word Count: 432 Warnings: mentions of war and fighting also NOT BETA READ (someone please be my beta reader lol) A/N: Jojo stop posting fics from obscure/dead fandoms challenge impossible edition also idk why I’ve been posting so many x readers lately but Ty all for eating them up!! Mwah!! Xoxo

John stared at the wall of your shared living room. He sat eerily still on your couch, slumped slightly as his gaze bore a hole into your shag carpet. Hell you’re pretty sure you haven’t seen him blink for the past five minutes.

You’d seen this look with John before. He was stuck in his own head, reliving moments from years ago. Mind lost in the jungles of Vietnam, hiding, killing, and surviving on what little he had while his body remained un-moving in front of your entertainment console.

“John…” you hummed quietly to make your presence known. Gently- as to not spook him like some wild animal- you wrapped your arms loosely around his neck and pressed your face against the crook where johns neck met his collarbone.

He flinched involuntarily, mind snapping back to reality as he registered your body against his.

In an instant, John relaxed, melting into your touch. He leaned back every so slightly to get more of your bare skin pressed against his, savoring the touch.

“What are you thinking about?” You murmured into his ear, already knowing the answer as you pressed a gentle kiss to his stubble covered jaw, one of your free hands coming up to gently trace his cheekbone, attempting to calm and reassure him.

John let out a slow exhale, his chest rising and falling with the deep breath. He took a moment to appreciate your touch, a brief piece of tranquility that came to him rarely in civilian life.

“…’Nam…” answered John, his voice a low rumble that resonated in his chest.

Johns words pulled at your heart, a frown threatening to form on your lips as you turned around to fully face him, intent on getting him out of his own head.

“How about we think about something else hm?” You asked quietly. “Like how much I care for you?”

John let out a small amused huff. There was a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth like he was trying to suppress a smile.

“You’re always tryin’ to distract me.” He noted, leaning closer to you.

“Is it working?”

Johns eyes flickered down to where you sat in front of him.

“You know it is.” He grumbled, tone begrudging but not unkind. He shifted slightly where he sat, attempting to pull you into his lap as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Good.” You smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek and curling up in his embrace, enjoying your partners close proximity.

‘Mission: successful.’ You hummed to yourself, content to stay where you were forever.

[lvrboy-inc]

"December" — Ariana Grande

꒰: Précis | Shoko Ieri + Suguru Geto have a little bit of fun with you whilst Satoru is drunkenly sleep on the couch after a wild Christmas party..the tension is so visible.

꒰: Disclaimer(s) | Teasing, mild fighting over you, "gift wrapping" (bondage), Christmas outfits, cliffhanger..!

꒰: Word Count ; 1.8k

Christmas Drabble

----

Christmas. What a time of year, right?

Chestnuts, cinnamon, sugar, mistletoe, bells, carolers and the spirit of joy that wafts in and out of every mouth, door and building around. What time of year is better? 

Especially when you get to spend it with two of your favorite people. 

“Come on, baby, don’t get too delirious on us, now..” The low, sultry voice of your lovely wife, Shoko Ieri, would coo at you as you lay wound up tight by bright red, silk ribbon. Fire crackling and presents all under the tree–not even opened and yet she had added one more that had to be unraveled..

Head perched in the lap of your colleague Suguru, he was idly twirling an end of the red length around his finger, all smug as he looked down at you. “He might be the prettiest present I’ve seen to date, Shoko. Say, maybe the Christmas dinner wasn’t enough for him to eat his fill, no?”

With a long drawl of your name, he ran splayed fingers down your chest and abdomen, only to stop at where Shoko was set up between your legs. You had to be dreaming or something. The worst part..? Well..Satoru was faaastt asleep, just a few feet away on the couch. Poor guy—couldn’t handle his liquor like he thought he could and ended up getting wayyy in over his head.

The party had been a hit–secret santa was also such a fun reveal for the entirety of Jujutsu High. Megs, Kugisaki, Itadori, Nanami—everyone, really—had joined in on the festivities. But, once Nanami had noticed not only that Satoru was getting a little too out of hand to properly and responsibly drop the kids back off at home, he offered, oh-so kindly to do the task instead whilst the rest of the company had dwindled down steadily.

Now, in the cleaned-up aftermath of the event—courtesy of Suguru—you found yourself a bit..tied up. Literally.

“You’re so right, Geto. I mean, I can’t have my favorite boy going without enough, now can I?” The question was asked toward Suguru but her soft brown eyes, reflecting the flickering of the flames that licked under the chimney were all on you. “Say, pretty boy, are ya ready for a bit of..Christmas fun?”

A gentle laugh left her and Suguru half-heartedly joined in as well, tugging the end of the ribbon just a bit tighter so that he could direct your attention up toward him. “It’s so rude to keep a lady waiting, y’know..go on, answer her.”

Swallowing dryly, you could already feel the throb that your cock gave—even being bound by a layer of the red bindings–and what wasn’t helping was that Shoko had already been distracting you all night. The festive dress she’d gotten just for you. And while it was all fine and dandy..you had to try your damn best not to gawk at what lay just under the soft cotton of her red dress. 

You know that God didn’t make you his strongest soldier for a reason.

Especially not when she had recently discarded the red lace panties that she’d been mildly teasing you with all night. Now grinding that pretty cunt against your thigh as she and Suguru exchanged laughs of amusement..meanwhile you were suffering under the duress of your own aching hard-on. You could hear the shlick, shlick, shlick as her hips slid back and forth against you.

Always so close yet so far where you really needed it to be. Suguru was just reveling in how you were so visibly distressed at being denied what you were indirectly yearning for. 

“Mhnn..S-Shoko..” You’d simper out. “Can you move just..a bit further up..?” Along with the ask, you’d slightly begun to rut your hips up–she shut all of that down. 

Her freshly manicured, red and white painted nails dug into your abdomen as she locked your hips in place. Awkwardly, the ribbon shifted and you couldn’t help but let out a low groan, tilting your head off to the side. Not having any of it, Suguru used his hand to direct your attention right back to Shoko, who’d finally started to rub her sopping wet pussy against your wrapped up cock. 

Oh, the friction was fucking devilish. She was practically soaking through the ribbon all on her own and all you could do was let your eyes roll at the dangling treat of being allowed to put it inside. 

“Aw, look at him, Ieri. He looks as though he’ll crack if you were to actually do something.”

With a sharp huff, you flitted your eyes up to his, “Is this not already, haah, ‘doing something’..?”

“Oh, you sweet boy,” Lightly tutting, he leaned down to brush his lips against the shell of your ear. “This is nothing.” A shiver ran down your spine at the deep husk of his voice and once again, a whine found its way out of your lips and you were right back to your mindless squirming. “If you can’t handle a little bondage and dry humping–how the hell do you even fuck her without cumming once you get it in?” 

A hot flush spread across your cheeks at the taunting and borderline mean words that he spoke. “I-I manage just fuckin’..f-fine. For your information..”

“Riiight, because your tip isn’t dripping just because her hot, wet, sloppy, drooling–”

“S-Suguru..” Shoko would puff out. “Leave him alone. He fucks me good, he fucks me long and it was damn sure better than any ‘experimenting’ that we did before.”

Rolling his eyes, Suguru resigned and opted to reach down for his belt buckle, unfastening and sliding it out with a symphony of clinks and clacks. “She must really like you, huh? Otherwise, she would’ve agreed that you’re a bit pathetic. Guess that’s what honeymoons do…diamonds are a woman’s best friend.”

“Oh, shut it. I didn’t invite you over here to condescend and lamely intimidate my husband. I invited you to be generous on Christmas. Since you’ve been gawking at ‘im in the office.” It was a bit odd—she sounded..jealous, almost. You must’ve been hearing things..Shoko doesn’t get jealous.

Your marriage was knowingly open-ended and you two were wildly open-minded. And yet, despite allll of that..you did  sometimes see the green begin to show whenever she got the inkling that she was being ‘shown up’ and or that someone was trying way too hard to show you up. 

Buttt, what all of those outside forces didn’t know was that you had something that couldn’t ever be found in any other man, woman, passerby, stranger, or long-term friend—you were absolutely, utterly, completely and hopelessly devoted to her and her alone. The amount of times in which you’ve had to reiterate that point was becoming staggering but you’d never once complained. Each time, it was in a new fashion or manner or tone—all praising her and reassuring her that despite how ‘open minded’ the two of you were—it has been and always will be you and her.

Suguru knew this all too well. But it never really deterred him from trying to stir the pot a bit. Either with your own minorly fragile ego or her own pride—don’t even get started on Satoru.

“Woah, put the claws away..I was just saying that if he ever gets a little..bored or..boring…you both know where to find me.” And with that, he had managed to unclasp his belt and drag it out from his belt loops with a resounding thud to the floor. In another instant, he was unzipping his fly and hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his baggy jeans. It wasn’t long until he was tugging them down, letting his fat cock slap up against his pelvis with a crude plap: slightly muffled by his thick Christmas sweater that Shoko had made a part of the party’s dress code.

Shoko, on the other hand, had apparently gotten a little impatient, seeing as she had begun to unfurl the coil of ribbon around your leaky tip, all the way down to your base with one sharp zip! of the thin, taut material. 

It was a little shocking how your body had reacted to the air hitting your sensitive cock once more, but even more so when she’d begun to use the copious amounts of pre that had gathered from the foreplay, as lube for her soft, delicate hands to start stroking you so tenderly.

Your head fell back and your mouth fell open. And as if on cue, Suguru was right there—or, his dick was, rather—giving a few playful slaps against your lips, staring down at you with those glinting, purple depths. “Oh my..guess the fire isn’t the only thing that’s getting us all warmed up tonight, huh?”

When he’d said that, you glanced down, trying to keep your voice down for the sake of the drunkenly forgotten Satoru who was sound asleep on your living room couch, even as Shoko was positioning herself over top of you. Slightly panting, she leaned forward with a loose hold on the base of your cock, slipping and sliding it back and forth alll along her slit. 

Her core was dripping down onto your tip, sliding down your shaft and with each pass, you had to bite back a groan that threatened to escape. Suguru had used a thumb to dip into your mouth, tugging your lips juust enough so that he could properly situate his tip on your tongue.

And like a crescendo—it all happened at once.

Suguru slid in, stuffing your mouth up until a small bulge obscenely formed in the side of your cheek and Shoko was fully hilting you inside of her with a moan that was—barely, scarcely, more like—held back. She wasn’t the only one, seeing as Suguru’s large hand had threaded through your locks and begun to hold you there, just trying to get a good, long feel for the warmth of your mouth. “Ahh..that’s it..” He’d lightly praised, caressing your cheek and hair methodically as his hips rolled to sink in deeper into your maw.

“Y-you took it all so well, sweetie..” Shoko had followed up, already with that slightly cockdrunk smile she always pulled when you bottomed out inside her. Even your voice had been hard to contain, given the way her cunt was so greedily eating up every inch of you.

Muscles tensing and arms flexing under the restraints of the ribbon that was still tied all around your body, you tried to manage your breathing properly for a time—which they gave you all due space to do—and once you’d gotten accustomed to both sensations, they gave a soft wry. It was nearly in sync.

“Merry Christmas, my love.” The soft purr of your wife would speak almost breathlessly over you. Beautifully acorn-colored locks draping over her shoulders and offering a small curtain in front of her face.

Suguru was the next to glance down, licking a stripe over his teeth. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.” 

Just like that—your real Christmas fun began.

All with Satoru oblivious in the realm of temporary death—oh how he’d be so salty whenever he awoke from his drunken stupor.

A/N: I wanted to follow the trend a bit and since the Suguru fic is next in queue, I gave a slight tease. This was real fun to write, for..many reasons. (I also had that one Shiu fanart in mind, as reference the whole time.) Happy holidays from your Loverboy..! 🎄🎁

[chronicroderick]

Old Games

Hannibal has been manipulative because he's bored and provokes Will into taking matters into his own hands.

Shameless Smut, Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham, Consensual Violence, Blood Kink, Knife Kink, Scarification, Canon Typical Toxicity, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Wound Fingering, Post-Fall

Old Games on Ao3

-----

Will was beating the shit out of him, and God, was Hannibal rock hard. This was no fantasy, though there had been many times when it was. This was real, flesh on flesh, knuckles digging into his cheek bones, causing his teeth to clack with each blow. How strong Will was. How resilient those hands were. That was the only thing going through his mind as he tasted his own blood in his mouth.

Hannibal had been more shrewd than usual lately. Picking at Will, second guessing him, even when it was not necessary. Was he sure that he could pick the freshest vegetables from the grocery store? Did he turn the water off completely after washing his face before bed? Was every one of his little mongrel dogs accounted for or did he leave one outside? Will had never forgotten one of his pets, but there was ‘a first time for everything’. Besides his contrariness, the two men had lived the closest thing to domestic bliss that either one of them had ever experienced, even before the fall.

Here they were, off the coast of some Greek island – Will wanted to settle somewhere that was new to the both of them – in a home built from the ground up. It was adobe, white to match the local buildings, set a great distance from any other living soul on a modest cut of land. They had a fenced in garden, expansive, and they had dogs. They would occasionally take day trips to the large islands and scout for new sources of meat. Will went fishing almost every morning and Hannibal would join him, sitting on the shore, reading a book, every now and then glancing up from his page to gaze at his lover who floated far away on his canoe. They should be happy. He didn’t feel happy. He felt bored.

So here he was, flat on his back, Will sitting on his stomach, while those strong fisherman’s hands smashed his face to a bloody pulp. The flames of pain caressed him, cut through him, searing in the cut on his eyebrow now, down into his skull and his brain. A tightness twisting low in his gut. What had he said? Oh, yes.

“Where else would I go?” Will had piped up while Hannibal was chopping carrots.

“What was that, my love?”

“Don’t ‘my love’, me, Hannibal.”

He was only Hannibal when he had done something wrong.

“You think I’m afraid you wish to be somewhere else. You betrayed the FBI for me, Will. We have killed together. We ran away together. As far as I am concerned we are an inseparable pair and I do not understand why you are so paranoid about these things.”

Will stood from where he leaned against the island in the middle of the room and walked up next to him, one hip against the counter and arms crossed over his chest. Hannibal stilled his hands and looked at Will with a warm smile that he knew would infuriate him.

Will frowned, “If you keep playing the fool I’m going to lose my temper.”

A thrill ran down Hannibal’s spine at the threat. At a degree in which he had not felt in a very long time.

“What part do you wish me to play then?” He tilted his head, smile still on his face, fingers curling ever so slightly tighter around the chef’s knife.

Will narrowed his eyes, purposefully keeping them off of the weapon, those ocean blue rings raging darkly behind his glasses. He was so beautiful when he was angry. So stimulating.

“You’ve been toying lately. Undermining me. Eroding.”

This was dangerous territory. Before Hannibal had started picking at Will’s scabs, they had had many heartfelt conversations, one of which included the brunette expressing his fear that his thoughts and actions were not his own, even after all this time. He had soothed him then. He did not feel like soothing him now.

“You speak of me like some spurned housewife.”

“You don’t deny it.” There was an edge to Will’s voice.

“What reason would I have to do such a thing? We are long past the game of cat and mouse,” He turned away, chopping the rest of the carrot, with a dismissive tone, “really, you’re quite the by product of your post traumatic stress, you should quit—”

“Don’t.” Will interpreted, and Hannibal could almost hear his knuckles creak as he formed a fist.

He smiled to himself, knowing full well how it would be interpreted, “Being so paranoid, my love.”

To say the blow came out of nowhere would be a lie, but he had underestimated the hatred behind it, fueling its power, as it caught him across the side of the face. It gave him a headache immediately, Hannibal instinctually switching his grip on the knife, blade pointed down, but Will knew him well. He could feel the calluses against his forearm as his wrist was smashed into the stone countertop with enough force to send shooting nerve pain up his arm, the knife falling from his hand.

Hannibal growled, half anger at being surprised and half pleasure, his other hand coming up to grab Will by the throat, fingers digging into the sides of his neck and pushing the man backwards until his back slammed against the refrigerator. Will’s left hand still held Hannibal’s arm, but his right arm came up, elbow crashing down on Hannibal’s arm, breaking his grip on the other man’s throat. He was feral, unpredictable and blind to the admiration in Hannibal’s gaze as he threw all of his weight into his shoulder and lunged like a football player, tackling Hannibal to the ground.

His head hit the wood floor with a hard knock, dazing him slightly, but his lover did not let the moment go to waste. He felt the weight of Will on his stomach, knees pinning down his out flung arms as they painfully crushed his elbows. His nose crunched with the second punch that was thrown his way, the third surely would have broken it as well, were it not already broken. Will was saying something, something hard to make out over the sound of the blood rushing in Hannibal’s ears and the ringing of his head injury.

“... paranoid. After all those years of manipulating me. Here I am. Here I am.”

Planting his feet, he attempted to buck Will off him, giving himself a chance to roll over, but the moment his weight shifted, he got a swift blow to the eye socket. It was mean enough to cut his eyebrow open, blood pooling at the corner of his eye like a great well of tears, and sloppy enough that it could have caused serious optic damage. The severity of the situation dawned on him. His cock twitched.

“Will –”

There was no reply, only another blow to the face. They rained down on him now, one after the other. He did not fight, did not even struggle. He took in a ragged breath, smothered with arousal, determined to take in every detail of this moment with all five senses. All of Will’s pain and rage washed over him. He could feel the way his skin tore apart, ragged, under the force of Will’s hands. It was delicious to know that he was the cause of such strong emotions. He could hear Will’s heavy breathing, hitching slightly when he exerted himself. It was him, Hannibal, that had so much influence in Will’s life. No one else. He smiled, his lip split in two places, and it felt like being cut with a razor blade as the skin stretched over his teeth. His brown eyes twinkled up at Will, taking in the sight of his bloody knuckles, unsure if it was just his blood. Hoping it was both of theirs. The idea blew his pupils wide. Will’s features darkened and he grabbed Hannibal by the collar of his shirt, before bashing his head into the floor over and over.

“I gave up everything for you! You don’t get to play games anymore.”

He was disappointed that Will had not positioned himself on his lap, for his cock stood at full attention, the inside of his boxers damp with a spot of precum. How ruthless his lover was. Hannibal wished to grind himself against him, while those well trained hands gripped him by the hair, guiding his lucid head to look up. There was a constant throbbing in the back of his skull, his hair plastered to his head with a thick, wet warmth. The kitchen stank of blood, or maybe it was just everything that was pouring out of his nose. When he saw Will’s hard features searching his face, he was filled with a sense of certainty that this was what their victims saw before death overtook them, and need cut through him. Will’s eyes narrowed, which was no surprise, he could read Hannibal like no other.

“You’re hard right now.” He stated disapprovingly.

“I am.” Hannibal replied, blood staining his teeth pink as he smiled.

“You’re not mad at me,” Will blinked once.

“I am not.”

When Will only silently leaned back, removing the weight of his knees from Hannibal’s elbows, he was afraid their altercation would yield no sexual satisfaction.

“Mylimasis,” He whispered, flecks of his blood spraying across Will’s face as he spoke, “do you not find the spark of our old games as exciting as I do?”

Will scoffed, but the corner of his mouth pulled up into a smirk, “You goaded me because you miss getting off to our rivalry?”

“I miss when you were not a domestic animal, Will Graham.”

He could not hide the truth of his words, dismay hitting him like a freight train as he saw the way they made Will’s face twist. As he opened his mouth to explain himself, a hand closed over it, smelling strongly of sweat and blood.

“Not a word.” Will said monotonically.

When he was sure Hannibal would not speak, he removed it, and scooted his hips backwards until he sat right on top of Hannibal’s clothed dick. This made him sigh, the pressure bringing relief, but in return Will slapped him hard enough to turn his cheek red. He gave Will a surprised look and the other man only frowned.

“No sounds either.”

They could both feel the way Hannibal’s cock twitched against Will’s ass. He nodded, just barely, maintaining searing eye contact with Will who was cold as ice. Will began moving his hips back and forth, grinding down on Hannibal who bucked his hips up against him eagerly. He needed to feel more, so much more. His nose ached, the pain pulsing out into the rest of his face as his heartbeat quickened. Will’s hard on was evident, the outline of it visible against his pants, Hannibal eyed it hungrily. His tongue dashed out, wetting his lips, playing over the cuts on them, as he watched Will’s body move above his. He looked glorious, all dark curls and severe jawline, his skin coral and cream as he palmed himself over his clothes. His blue eyes caught sight of the ministrations of Hannibal’s tongue and he leaned down, their dicks rubbing together as he licked one of the cut’s on Hannibal’s lips. The sensation made Hannibal’s hole clench, his eyes fluttered shut as Will lapped up the blood from the second cut. He hissed when he felt Will’s teeth sink into his lip, fresh blood flooding his mouth from the open wound, and because he made a noise Will bit harder, creating puncture wounds and ripping it open more. Will ground his cock against Hannibal, relentlessly dry humping as he kissed him. All Hannibal could taste was his own blood, it was electric, swirling around his mouth on the vessel of Will’s tongue. Will’s lips tasted metallic, soft yet unyielding, Hannibal licked at the back of his teeth, rubbing his tongue over the other man’s with a clear desperation. Will pulled back, got off of his lap, then undid his belt.

Hannibal followed suit, shoving his pants down without a word, his cock springing free. Will didn’t look at him, he only tugged his own pants and underwear off over his shoes, and flung them to the side. Hannibal felt like his excitement was visible to the naked eye, the way the scent of his blood flooded his senses, his skull pounding in time with the rushing in his veins, the thick swallow he had to take every couple seconds, it all stoked his desire, the object of which now crouched over him, hovering just above his aching cock. He looked down at himself, saw how stiff his dick was, flushed pink, thick and sure to spread Will open like many times before. He almost whined like a dog when his lover gently lowered himself, his hole squeezing his tip over and over, precum slicking the entrance. Then the sensation was gone, Will was standing over him now, looking down with that cutting gaze.

“Will?” Hannibal protested the lack of contact.

Shaking his head, Will’s hand wandered the counter, in search of something out of Hannibal’s line of sight.

“You want the delight of carnage. I'll oblige.”

The blade of a knife glinted in the sunlight that came through the window as Will inspected it, surely for Hannibal’s benefit. It was lean, one they often used to filet seafood. His cock jerked and he wiggled his loosened front tooth with his tongue.

“It seems you almost knocked my tooth out, my love.” He tried to hide the elation in his voice as he once again spoke out of turn.

Will fell to his knees, straddling Hannibal once again, their bare dicks rubbing together as he worked the tip of the knife into the small crevice of tender flesh between his collarbone and his shoulder. Hannibal closed his eyes, clenching his teeth in a mixture of pain and pleasure. He tried not to think about the hole that was cut in his shirt. Will twisted the knife as if he was lazily trying to start a fire, tearing more fabric and skin. It made his head spin. When he did not respond, Will pushed slightly harder, until a half inch of stainless steel was inside him. He could feel the warmth of his blood welling up around the tip. Felt the warmth of it pooling into his clothes.

“You could cause serious nerve damage if you're unfamiliar with what you're attempting.” Hannibal chimed clinically.

“Enjoying being a brat, are we?” Will purred, gently pulling the blade towards him, cutting Hannibal at such a slow pace it was ripping more than slicing.

The blue eyed man hummed happily as Hannibal bucked his hips, their cocks sliding over one another, his precum wetting his own happy trail. Will moved on, tracing the knife lightly over Hannibal’s chest, poking and prodding every now and then until he settled just below his belly button. Hannibal watched the entire time, never taking his eyes off those brilliant hands as Will gripped the hem of his shirt and cut it in one long go right up the middle, as if he was being gutted. The fabric fell open, revealing his chest and stomach that already had a few red marks, and Will pushed it out of the way, ghosting his fingers through Hannibal’s chest hair. He rubbed his hips teasingly, cock brushing back and forth against Hannibal’s, resting all his weight on the hand in the center of the older man’s chest. Holding him down. Hannibal could feel his heartbeat thumping against Will’s palm. With the knife in the crook of the L of his thumb and forefinger, directly over Hannibal’s heart, Will applied pressure, the sharp bite of which bloomed outwards.

“Put it in.” It wasn't a demand or a question, it was like Will was observing the weather or their horoscopes.

He was more than happy to obey, grabbing hold of himself, resisting the urge to pump his cock, and lined it up with Will’s hole. Not a moment after his tip brushed the man’s ass did his lover sit himself onto it, slowly taking his cock, never taking his eyes off Hannibal’s face nor the knife off his chest. Instead, the more length he took, the deeper he drove the blade into Hannibal’s sternum. It was overwhelming.

“Penetrating me as I penetrate you?” He quipped. This was all part of it. Will knew he could never resist a chance to prove he would be willing to take things further than Will would.

In response Will cut into him. It wasn't hesitant or jerky, it was almost surgical. Deep enough for blood to spill immediately, but shallow enough that Hannibal was not afraid for his life. It hurt, it made him tense involuntarily as the knife made its way down his chest, leaving a burning crimson trail behind. All while his cock was slowly buried to the hilt inside the other man. He groaned, not trying to be a smartass, as Will began moving up and down, but was punished for his transgression anyways when the knife sunk deeper. The scarring would be unavoidable at this point. Hannibal ground his teeth together to keep from speaking, grabbed Will by the hips and helped him ride faster. His dick was being squeezed so tight, pumping in and out of Will’s hole as he watched the brunette’s cock bounce with every thrust. He pounded up into Will, hips snapping against the bottom of his ass. His passion made the work of the knife unsteady, dipping deeper and shallower with no design at all, the line Will was creating winding ever so slightly like a river down to just above his belly button. Hannibal could feel drops of blood cascading down his belly towards his ribs. Will moaned above him, clenching down on his dick, then ran two shaky fingers up the wound he had just inflicted, never slowing down, Hannibal violent in his thrusts that made every curl on Will’s head bob.

Will brought the two fingers up to his pink lips, dark pupils trained on Hannibal’s face as Will sucked on his middle and index finger. He pulled them out clean, except for the faint ring of red that was like lipstick around the second knuckles. Hannibal’s eyes narrowed with lust and he grabbed the hilt of the knife in Will’s hand, at first the other man resisted letting go, but when he slowed down in his thrusts, emphasizing his sincerity, Will relented. Hannibal took the weapon slowly out of his lover’s hand, Will was doing all the work with his hips now, and the salt and pepper haired man turned the blade on himself, tip pressed firmly to his stomach. With a small smile and a slow blink, jittery from the heat engulfing his dick, he stuck the end in his abdomen, somewhere he knew wouldn't be vital if he had gone deep enough for that to even matter. It made him gasp and he was so close to the edge now, but he wasn't finished. Hannibal dropped the knife, grabbed Will's hand firmly, splayed out his fingers, then pushed one of them greedily inside the wound. It made him shudder, meeting the pace of Will’s hips now, feeling the tip of his finger inside the cut sent stripes of ecstasy straight to his dick. Pumping himself in and out of Will, while Will pushed his finger deeper into his skin, Hannibal stroked the man’s cock, admiring the slight bend in it and the feeling of precum slicking the inside of his hand. Both of them were covered in a sheen of sweat and blood on the kitchen floor. He felt like an animal. He felt alive.

“This is what you wanted?” Will asked, words punctuated by small gasps.

Hannibal nodded, racing to the end, all fervor and fire. Slamming up into his Will. His Will. He would bleed only for this man. He would hold all of his beloved 's rage. He was made to bear any pain his lover put his way. Hannibal’s thoughts were becoming less linear. Will was panting, surely his legs burned, his dick twitching in Hannibal’s uncoordinated grasp, until finally he came. Seed shot onto Hannibal’s chest, mingling with his blood. The feeling made Hannibal climax too, unloading inside Will with a stifled moan. He couldn't take it. He sat up without thinking, grabbed Will behind the shoulders and sank his teeth into the crook of his neck. Will cried out, but didn't push him away. He bit deeper, Will’s hole milking his cock of every last drop of cum, his wounds throbbing and burning and flooding his body, his lover’s cum making a warm, slow trail down his stomach into the deep cuts. He might need stitches. Biting deeper. Will would be bruised. They'd have to set his nose. He did not break the brunette's delicate skin.

They sat like that on the floor, Hannibal’s teeth in his neck, Will’s trembling thighs straddling his waist. Hannibal pulled back, still ensnaring Will in his grasp and looked into his eyes. They seemed bright, normal, better than the storm he had cultivated for the last few weeks. He kissed his nose and brought him into a hug. Will sighed and rested his head on Hannibal’s shoulder. Their breathing slowed. Their heartbeats turned to normal, almost in sync. It would be enough. It already was.

-----

I am so incredibly upset because I couldn't find the gif of fantasy Hannibal smiling on the ground as Will beats him :'( EDIT: I FOUND IT YAHOO

[khaopybara]

fadel. they are the snitches.

KHAOTUNG THANAWAT as BISON episode 6 of THE HEART KILLERS

[kpop-with-mars]

|12 Days of Drabbles|Day 9: Pink in the Night|

{Park Seonghwa x Male!Reader}

{Plot; A soulmate AU in which you and your soulmate will glow pink in eachothers presence once both you turn 25.}

{A/N - This is obviously very inspired by Pink in the Night by mitski, so thank you queen for making one of the best songs EVER <333}

{Word Count; 758}

{Tags; Soulmate AU, Light angst, Happy ending, Fluff, song inspired drabble.}

Y/N felt himself sink deeper into his bed sheets as the rain and traffic sounded from outside his apartment; he had just turned 25 today, and he hadn't barely spent it with Seonghwa. He didn't want to have to face Seonghwa and come face-to-face with the chance that he wouldn't glow; he'd already been through so many relationships before, and the thought of Seonghwa not being the one was already making his heart break. He heard it beat like thunder in his ears and took it as a sign it was breaking. What if he was wrong? What if one of his past partners was the one, and he'd never find them again? What if they, or Seonghwa, didn't love him back?.

Y/N almost didn't hear the knocking on his door; from the sounds of his heartbeat, he knew it was Seonghwa, and he also knew that Seonghwa had a key. But he wouldn't enter yet since he knew how hard it would be for Y/N and himself if they were never destined to be. His phone buzzed, and he opened it to find Seonghwa's text.

My Love ♥

Hey darling, I'm at your door. Do you want to talk to me?

I know… Could you just give me a minute?

Of course, I'll be right here when you're ready.

Y/N hugged his phone to his chest and wiped away the tears that fell down his cheeks; he couldn't say goodbye to Seonghwa, and he could never in his life imagine him with someone else. Seonghwa no doubt was feeling it too; Y/N had been there for him when he needed him the most. He could feel that special kind of fondness and genuine connection that Y/N had with him. It didn't sound real that there could be anyone more meant to be than them; they loved each other. After some few tear-filled moments of contemplating, he rid his eyes of any more tears that threatened to fall before texting back.

My Love ♥

You can come in… please.

Y/N needed to know if his anxiety was right, that the last three years they'd been together were a mere waste of time. that his real soulmate would never compare to such love that Seongwa gave him. He never knew how much he could hate a squeaky door hinge until his opened. He squeezed his eyes tightly as he heard Seonghwa's footsteps come closer to the door, and then, inside his room, Y/N buried his face into his pillow as Seonghwa put his hand on the crown of his head. He gently strokes his locks as he lets out a heavy sigh. “Y/N... I don't—” His words stopped short, and Y/N tensed for the worst; the rain outside seemed to grow more with his constantly growing heartbeat. Seonghwa took a moment to look out at the heavy rain on the balcony through the glass doors; he breathed in a shaky breath. And he pulled the pillow out of Y/N's face to hold his face. “Y/N, open your eyes.” His tears started to come back as he slowly opened them up to Seongwa, now bathed in a pink glow. He let out a shaky gasp and sat up abruptly. As he looked down at himself, he too was glowing pink. Seonghwa was quick to pull him up into his arms and hold him tightly, their pink glows growing brightly as Y/N cried into his shoulder.

He wiped away his tears before he gave Seonghwa a weak and loving smile. “You're finally mine…” he breathed out. “I was always yours. This just makes us more concrete.” Seonghwa pressed his lips onto Y/N's; the faint sweetness on his lips felt like a new flavor he could never find anywhere else. They pull away after a moment, and Seonghwa looks at the rain through the glass doors. “I didn't do it right; can I try again?” He asked as he pushed them open, the sound of pouring rain nearly indistinguishable from the way Y/N's heart. Y/N nodded and stepped out into the rain with Seonghwa, smiling down at him with a softness that was amplified by his pink glow. He put his arms around Seonghwa’s neck, Seonghwa following suit around his waist. And with hearts beating and their beings glowing pink, they touched their lips together once more, with every drop of rain seeming to sing.

‘I love you, I love you, I love you I love you, I love you, I love you I love you, I love you, I love you’

[reidsdimples]

Spence falling for a boy the first time 🩷💜💙

I imagine he was confused at first because he’s an inexperienced lil bean but then he falls hard 🥰

[urinarythreatinfection]

I hear pretty often calling a guy's ass a pussy as a sexy thing. Which makes sense since a vagina is created for penetration and making a man, something not necessarily used for penetration, getting something used for such acts is a sexy thing. But girls have asses too. So you could hypothetically do the same thing right? Making a girls ass also a pussy since its the same thing? But what would the dirty talk be? Or the thought process? Usually for men its stuff like "Fucking your pussy, gonna make you my wife" or even "Gonna get you pregnant" acting like things that shouldnt be possible are possible because of how hard youre fucking them but for women who already have such parts what is used? "I'm going to give you a second pussy" perhaps? Claiming over every part of them that parts of them that werent even made for penetration like a vagina also a vagina. That you're making every part of them made for penetration, even if they already have one. Is that also sexy? Thoughts?

[chronoghoul]

would be OBSESSED if you did a oneshot saiki × kaidou fic, theres not enough food for them💔

╭﹒⊹⋆﹒ @ 𝖈𝖍𝖗𝖔𝖓𝖔𝖌𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖑 2024.

୨ ,, Saiki x Kaidou , sfw + pre established relationship , Saiki's POV .ᐟ

𖦹 ｡° note : crazy how I got a request for this cus I was literally reading Kaidou x Saiki fanfics at the time I got a notification for this 😨😱, anyways I'm no professional writer but I tried, feel free to suggest improvements!! btw I love ur art it's literally so good?? like damnn 𖥔 ݁ ˖.°. ⭑

﹒｡ꔫ﹒wc : ~1.3k

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭

Most people don’t realize I’m in a relationship. And, honestly, that’s exactly how I prefer it. If I wanted my personal life to become public knowledge, I’d have paraded my every step since elementary school. Besides, maintaining this sense of anonymity has… advantages. Kaidou, on the other hand, has a different take.

He wouldn’t say he wants the world to know; it’s more that he’s… not entirely opposed to it, either. And when you’re dating someone as demonstrative (read: clingy) as him, well, compromises are bound to be made. He calls it “affection.” I call it “the inevitable, slow erosion of my personal boundaries.”

“Oh, come on, Saiki, it’s just a quick hug!” Kaidou insists, pouting in that way he thinks is disarming. I stare blankly back, adjusting my glasses just enough to make my annoyance obvious.

“We’re standing in front of the coffee vending machine,” I point out, voice perfectly deadpan. “During school hours. Not exactly a prime location for relationship displays.”

His eyes widen with familiar dramatics. “Don’t tell me you’re… scared of being discovered, Saiki? I’ll cover for us if we’re spotted. I’m well-trained in covert operations, after all.”

I make it a habit to ignore the grander gestures of Kaidou’s imagination, especially when they involve his “training” in clandestine arts. It’s a small mercy for both of us that I can redirect this conversation without missing a beat. “Scared, no. Rational, yes. Unlike you, I prefer not to turn our relationship into an after-school special.”

He’s listening, of course, but I know him well enough to spot that glint in his eye—the one that says, Challenge accepted. A sigh escapes me, but that only emboldens him further.

He shifts closer, glancing around in a show of exaggerated caution that would look subtle only to someone who hasn’t seen a single spy film in their life. His hand darts out, clamping around my wrist. “But… what if I’m just trying to show you I care?”

It’s hard not to roll my eyes, and maybe it’s because this is Kaidou, the boy who believes in destiny battles and imaginary ancient power. Who’s somehow wiggled his way into my life with the persistence of an immortal cockroach. He doesn’t notice me slowly sliding my wrist free from his grasp, an act that requires less telekinesis and more practiced patience.

“That’s not really necessary. If you care about me, I’ll know it without you trying to show everyone within a five-mile radius,” I say.

His face softens in that disarming way, the one that only ever backfires on me. His expression is sincere, eyes bright behind his glasses. It’s almost ridiculous how earnest he can look, even after I’ve pointed out his every blunder and miscalculation.

“Right, right. Secret agents,” he mumbles, as if we’re enacting some elaborate espionage plot. “We’ve gotta keep it on the down-low.”

I let him believe that.

— Break Time —

During lunch, he migrates to his usual place next to me, plopping down with all the subtlety of a falling brick. His tray lands on the table with a thud, and he flashes me a grin, nudging his way too close for my liking. I reach for my coffee jelly and take an entirely normal, entirely unbothered bite.

“Saiki,” he says, like he’s just realized something monumental. “We’ve never actually done the classic couple stuff, have we?”

“Define ‘classic couple stuff,’” I reply without looking up. I’ve seen enough romance manga to know this question rarely goes anywhere I enjoy.

“You know, like holding hands! Sharing snacks!” His voice drops. “Or maybe, like… sharing secrets?”

Of course, this is Kaidou. For him, “secrets” are on par with treasure chests in video games. Half the time, he’s convinced that my refusal to divulge any hidden information about myself is an intentional ploy to keep him from cracking some cosmic code.

“What secrets do you think I’m hiding, exactly?”

He scrunches his nose in thought, looking more serious than a teenage boy with blue streaks in his hair has any right to be. “For one, you never tell me what you’re actually thinking. You could be planning some kind of master strategy, and I’d have no idea.”

“Exactly.”

“Wait, what?”

I bite back a sigh, lifting my gaze just enough to give him a weary look. “I’m not plotting anything. I just don’t see the need to narrate every passing thought.”

“Oh, yeah? And what’s so mysterious that you have to keep it to yourself?” he presses, genuinely curious now.

Here’s the thing about Kaidou. He’s completely oblivious to how obvious he is. When he’s curious, he’ll ask; when he’s annoyed, he’ll grumble; and when he’s feeling something a bit softer, a bit more affectionate… well, he’ll lean just a little bit closer, his shoulder brushing against mine, and he’ll wait, his expression open and hopeful.

I don’t give him much, because I don’t need to. Instead, I look at him with a flat, unimpressed gaze.

“If I tell you everything, it’ll ruin the mystique.”

I mean it as a joke—dry and almost dismissive. But he actually laughs, and the sound is soft enough to draw the attention of a few nearby classmates. I can tell from their glances that they’re wondering why Kaidou’s face is suddenly lit up like a neon sign.

“Right, right, the mystique,” he teases back, grinning. “Wouldn’t want anyone to know you actually like me.”

And it’s then that he nudges my arm, an innocent enough motion that’s only slightly less aggravating than a full-on hug. It’s funny, really—how just a few months ago, if anyone had told me that Kaidou of all people would be the one drawing me out, making me open up (or at least attempting to), I would’ve told them to get a brain scan.

But here we are.

— The Walk Home —

Walking home from school has become routine—an unspoken agreement. Neither of us has acknowledged it for fear that naming it might disrupt whatever strange, offbeat harmony we’ve managed to find. He walks beside me, humming something almost in tune, hands shoved into his pockets to keep from reaching for mine.

I can tell he’s itching to say something. There’s a telltale wrinkle in his brow, and he keeps sneaking glances like he’s preparing a speech. It’s one of those instances where I don’t need my powers to know what’s coming.

“So, uh… the festival’s coming up. You going?”

I shrug. “Probably not. Too many people. Too much noise.”

He lets out a short laugh. “Yeah, that sounds like you. But… if, you know, you change your mind…”

“Are you trying to ask me on a date, Kaidou?”

I watch the realization dawn on him, turning his face a satisfying shade of crimson. “I-I mean, only if you want to go! We can… I dunno… stay in the quieter areas?”

He’s rambling now, all flustered, which is more or less his default state whenever he’s around me. There’s something almost endearing about it—how, even with all his so-called bravado, he can’t hide that genuine streak of softness.

I could say no, of course, but there’s something oddly satisfying about watching him light up like he’s just uncovered a hidden treasure. So I take my time responding, letting him sweat a little before I say, “Fine. As long as you agree to my terms.”

His eyes widen. “Terms?”

“Zero public displays,” I say, leveling him with a stern look. “And no monologuing about secret powers.”

He nods, almost vibrating with excitement, practically oblivious to the conditions he’s so readily accepting. “Right. Deal. I can totally stick to that.”

Of course, he won’t stick to it. Kaidou rarely manages to keep his promises when excitement takes over, but I suppose that’s part of what makes this whole situation interesting. There’s a certain charm to his naivety—a softness I wouldn’t admit to appreciating, even if I know that he knows.

Because sometimes, in the quiet moments, away from prying eyes, I let him reach for my hand. And even though I’ll never say it out loud, there’s a part of me that finds it oddly comforting.

It’s like I’m almost… human, if only for a moment.

[f4nrir]

a lovers quarrel

一 pairing; miguel o'harra x male reader

note: I haven't seen any male!reader for him and I am obsessed with this man. anyway, please let me know if y'all like this so I can write more for him. feedback would be appreciated!

cw: nsfw, 18+. angst, angry hate sex, slight dub-con, anal, overstimulation, face slapping, power bottom!reader.

summary: you get into an argument with miguel regarding the situation with miles. you put him in his place. word count: 2.8k

݁݁⠀⠀ ،̲،̲ ⠀ . @he11mouth

“Miguel!” was the last thing you remember saying before Miguel had broken into a fit of rage, chasing after Miles like a rabid dog. You sighed and turned around to be met with Gwen, who began to shake her head at what you were about to do. Sometimes it scared you that she could read your mind, it was a comforting feeling yet you knew that this wouldn’t be a good idea. You put on your mask and angled your wrist, shooting out a web as you swung from pole to pole in order to catch up with them both. After you saw them in your line of sight, you jumped down and began to run on both feet, easily catching up with Miguel. He noticed you from his peripheral vision and growled in anger, knowing that meant he was extremely upset. His pace fastened as he knew what you were about to do. However, you were smarter than that and jumped, slamming him down onto the ground to have him let go of the grip he had on Miles. 

“Go Miles, now!” your voice boomed loudly and the teenager looked at you with sorrow yet gratefulness in his eyes. He didn’t take another second to run away, being able to escape Miguel’s wrath. Miguel looked at you with anger and distrust as he watched you let Miles go, thinking you knew better than to side with a boy you barely knew. He felt as if the relationship you two had built meant nothing to you as you were able to betray him without hesitance, no regard as to how he’d feel. That you didn’t think before acting and now he lost control, he lost power in a situation. 

He took off his mask, being met with his disheveled hair and blood-red eyes. “Why would you do that!” he yelled, gripping tightly onto his mask. You have never seen him so angry before and you took off your own, looking him in the eye as he spoke. “You betrayed me. We were supposed to work together, we are a team! How could you be so stupid!” his words felt like venom, making your blood boil with each word that came out of his mouth. Then you did the unthinkable, “How could YOU be so stupid?” you heard loud gasps from the crowd that surrounded you both and Gwen caught up with you, landing on both feet beside you. 

You grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling his face closer to yours. “What is wrong with you? Miles is a teenager, Miguel, this isn’t some kid you can just slam into the ground! Did you ever think about his side of the story? Did you give him time to speak!?” you yelled right in his face, anger building up within him. 

“He is a threat to us. Don’t you remember what happened with Dr. Strange and that little nerd on Earth-199999?? Do you want that happening to us?” he growled in a low voice, his face just inches away from you and his hot breath ran a chill down your spine. 

“Give him a chance, Miguel. You don’t know him—“ he cut you off, “and YOU DO? Of course, you’re using emotions rather than knowledge. typical you huh? stupid and empathetic.” Those words felt like a stab to the heart and Miguel was the wielder, twisting it with all his might. 

Gwen glared up at him and sneered, gently rubbing your back as you stepped away from him. “How fucking dare you, Miguel.” you didn’t give him time to respond as you walked away with Gwen before swinging together in synchrony, hoping that there was still time to catch up with Miles. 

Peter walked up behind him and Miguel looked down in shame, realizing the words that he said were extremely disrespectful. “What the fuck was that dude?” Peter asked and Miguel shook his head, putting his hand out to make him stop. 

“Everyone, just... don’t chase after them, I’ll take care of it myself,” he then walked away in the opposite direction, making his way toward the headquarters as everyone went back to what they were doing. 

Miles wasn’t too up ahead as you realized that he heard your fight, feeling guilty that he had heard the exchange of words between you both. The three of you sat down by a nearby ledge, watching your legs as they swung against the cold airy breeze. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think I’d cause this big of a mess,” Miles’ head hung low and you pat his shoulder, gently squeezing it. 

“It’s okay, kiddo. I know you’ve only been here for a few days but I know you mean well. Miguel’s just.. uh.. protective. The alteration in Dr. Strange’s world caused massive destruction and would refuse to let that happen here too.” you let out a deep sigh and toyed with your web shooter, unable to stay still. The words echoed in your mind and you felt as if you were weak to give this boy a chance. Gwen leaned her head against your shoulder and you smiled at her, grateful for the relationship you both have developed. You were like an older brother figure to her as you helped guide her for the last several months, never leaving her side as she did the same for you. 

“You didn’t deserve that though. Miguel can be pretty irritable, although I understand he has a lot of stress on his shoulders but he should never speak to someone like that,” Gwen spoke with disappointment in her voice and Miles hummed in agreement, knowing that was wrong for him to do. 

“It’s... okay, I understand why. I’ll just talk to him and I’ll let you guys know alright? Don’t worry about it.” you flashed them both a smile and they nodded in response as you jumped off the ledge you sat at, making both of them gasp in surprise. Gwen was about to go after you until Miles stopped her, knowing that you'd catch yourself. You swung from building to building as your loud “woo’s!” could be heard all throughout the lobby. The pair exhaled in relief, watching you disappear from their sight.

You arrived home and you sighed to yourself before you opened the door to your shared home. “Miguel?” you called out as you noticed faint noises coming from one of the rooms, either Miguel was home or he left the television on again even though you’ve reminded him numerous times not to leave it on. You made your way to your bedroom and saw your boyfriend sitting there with his arms crossed, eyes focused on the television. You glanced over at it, realizing he was just watching one of his telenovela series. 

“You really aren't gonna talk to me?” you asked, clear bitterness in your voice. Miguel snickered, as he turned off the tv and faced you. 

“Why should I apologize? You betrayed me.” You ruffled up your hair in frustration, raising your balled-up fist in the air before settling it down. 

“You just never learn. Talk to me when you want to be mature.“ you turned around to exit the room, however, he caught you off guard as he shot his web in one swift motion, trapping you in here with him. The web landed on the door knob and you groaned, realizing you’d have to clean it up later as Miguel’s webs were incredibly sticky and durable. It was reliable in certain circumstances and you hated it in others. Turning around once again, you faced Miguel with a defeated look. 

“What do you want?” you asked as you attempted to make your way to your closet but was stopped by a strong force. Miguel grabbed your wrist and threw you onto the mattress, hovering above you.

Miguel didn’t speak as he let his actions do it all for him. He pinned you down underneath him as he placed kisses on your neck, digging his sharp fangs into your skin. You yelped and gripped onto his shoulders, attempting to get him off of you but realize you were at a disadvantage. 

“Get off m..me-“ he cut you off by pressing his lips against yours, pulling you into a rough yet lustful kiss. You moaned against him as your hands found their way into his hair, your fingers tangling in his locks. You tugged ever so roughly, emitting a moan from the other. He began to grind against you, your bulge growing as the minutes passed. You hissed at the contact as you grew more sensitive to your cocks frotting against each other. 

Miguel pulled away, desperately taking off his clothes, and urged you to do the same thing. You sat up slightly and tampered with your suit, managing to get it off within a timely manner. He pulled you into another kiss, but you had an advantage this time. You flipped both of you over, pinning him below you as you straddled his lap. 

“I hated how you talked to me today,” you whispered in his ear, as there was venom in your tongue with how you enunciated your words. You grabbed his jaw, forcing him to look up at you. Miguel looked at you with lustful and slutty eyes, practically begging to be fucked.

“I’m sor—“ You slapped his cheek, leaving a bright red handprint on his face. “Are you really sorry, Miguel?” 

“Y..yes, sir I’m s-“ another hit, and you noticed him flinch in surprise. “Sorry, didn’t hear you loud enough. What did you say?”

“I’m sorry!” he exclaimed, having a slight tone in his voice. You always knew how to put Miguel in his place; this was one of the easiest ways to weaken him. Although you felt a bit bad, you knew he enjoyed it as he reassured you numerous times it is okay to do that to him.  

“That’s a good boy.. that’s all you had to do,” you placed a kiss on his temple, and to his surprise, you grabbed his hair and made him look at you. 

“Here’s what we’re going to do... I’m going to please myself and use you. Got it?” Miguel whined and you let out a laugh, shaking your head at his response. 

“How pathetic. Only if everyone knew how much of a whore you are,” you looked over at your nightstand and grabbed the lube, lathering up his cock as you hover over it. Miguel winced at the temperature of the liquid but settled down right as you began touching him, quickly taking away that privilege and he bucked his hips up in the air. 

You wrapped your hand around his neck, squeezing lightly at first on the sides. Miguel moaned, being caught off guard by your sudden movement. He let out a cough as you squeezed once again, but harder this time. “No touching.” you sternly ordered and he scoffed in response. Miguel then grabbed your waist and lined himself up against you, attempting to thrust inside of you in one go. You felt the tip of his head enter you and you gasped, before turning your attention back to him. You grabbed both of his arms and cuffed his wrists to the bed posts, thanking your lucky stars that you didn’t put it away the previous night. 

“You disgusting pervert,” you leaned back and slowly lowered yourself onto his cock, moaning out loud as it stretched you out from all over. Miguel’s hips began shaking as you began to move, keeping a steady slow pace of riding. 

“ ¡a..ah mi vida, lo siento. por favor más rapido, mas rapido- agh!” he whined into the atmosphere of your bedroom, feeling the air become humid as the room filled up with the scent of sex. 

“No, vete a la mierda. Tú te hiciste esto Miguel..” you growled in his ear and tears began to well up in his eyes, only laughing in his face as you quickened your pace. 

"F—fuck, Miguel..” you threw your head back as you moaned out his name proudly, earning a louder sound from him. Miguel was a mess underneath you as his legs began shaking even further, knowing that meant his orgasm was coming soon. You continued to quicken your pace, feeling your own legs tremble and the warm feeling into your stomach pool within. 

You placed your palms against his chest as you rode out your climax, painting it all over his stomach. Miguel cried as he reached his own and came inside of you, continuing your pace from before.

“Please! s—stop, I’m sorry, please. mi amor, por— agh!” he begged for you like a pathetic dog as you felt him melt underneath you, giving into submission. You smirked down at him as his eyelids fluttered open, his expression looking dazed. 

You got off of him and he mumbled thank you under his breath, desperately bucking his hips into the air. 

“I’m not done with you yet, Miguel” his eyes widened as you used the cum from your orgasm to pump your cock, using it as your own lube. You got in between his legs and he tried to kick away from you but you pinned both of his legs down. “Careful. You might end up torturing yourself even further,” you then lined yourself up against him and wasted no time thrusting inside of him in one go. Miguel yelled out your name, begging for you to stop but you knew it was just one of his antics. He knew your safe word, although he’s never had to use it. He knew he was safe with you but disliked the process of getting punished. 

You looked down on him from above and Miguel continues to scream out your name, feeling completely ruined and used as you showed no mercy in fucking him. 

“You wanna apologize to me one more time, hm?” you grabbed his face and he nodded his head frantically, slurring “I’m sorry” under his breath as he felt overstimulated. “I’m sorry, please I’m so sorry. I should’ve never yelled at y..you— I should’ve been kinder, please—“ he pleaded and you tilted your head, “please what?”

“S.. stop, please..” he whined and threw his head back as you continued to slam into him, hitting his prostate over and over again. Miguel clutched into your back, dragging his nails across your skin and muscles. You winced at the pain, knowing his sharp claws would leave scars on your skin once it’s healed. 

“You don’t want to stop, don’t you? You like feeling like this,” you then took him in your hand, pressing your thumb against the head of his cock. 

“Fuck! I.. I can’t, oh god it’s too much—“ he cried and you fastened your pace, now rubbing his slit. Miguel began to sob out in overstimulation as you jerked him off, refusing to pull your hand away.

“I need to.. cum.. please sir let me— Please I’ll be good, I won’t speak to you like that again. Please sir, plea— Agh!” your thrusts became lazy but each slam was rough and hard as you got yourself ready for your orgasm. 

“Do it with me, Miguel” you murmured under your breath as you both moaned out loud together, coming undone at the same time. You stayed inside him for a few more seconds, almost up to a minute as you wanted every drop to stay inside him. 

“You did so good, my sweet boy,” you pressed a soft kiss on his forehead and he panted, arching his back in response.

You pulled out of him, watching your cum leak out of his stretched-out hole. You groaned, noticing your dick was still hard but did not want to continue as you noticed he was dazed from it all. You took him off the handcuffs and kissed his wrists, rubbing them gently with your hands as they looked red and sore. Miguel smiled at you, peppering your hands with soft kisses. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have lashed out at you like that,” he gently grabbed your chin, making you look up at him. You placed a kiss on his thumb and you took his hand, pressing his palm against your cheek. 

“You’re okay, cariño. I’m sorry too— I should’ve not been rude or quick to de-“ Miguel hushed you, placing a finger against your lips. You blushed, as you looked at his veiny calloused hands. 

“Not your fault. I’m sorry, I should’ve been easier on Miles,” He smiled at you, but took no time to grab your jaw to make you look at him. You squirmed in his touch, trying to break out of it. Miguel then towered over you, pinning you down onto your back and he took your cock in his hand. 

“Since you’ve had fun, it’s my turn,” he smirked and dug his fangs into your neck, drawing blood with his bite. You bucked your hips up against him, earning a low chuckle from the other. 

It was going to be a long night.

[lemonsprite]

𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐝𝐬 || 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐖𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐬𝐨𝐧

Summary: Wade discusses his next target his mercenary gig has assigned him, Peter doesn’t quite agree Word Count: 1.5K Warnings: Crude language (Its Deadpool guy c’mon) A/N: this is based off the comic book series of spider-man/deadpool!!!

“Now webs don’t be mad at me…” Pouted Wade, his feet dangling over the side of the building they were currently sitting on top of. “But I need your help with something…”

“What Wade?” Peter asked, not even looking up from his foil wrapped burrito. He shuddered. “I’m not helping you manscape again.”

“You know how you work for Parker industries?”

Peter chuckled inwardly to himself. ‘Work for Parker Industries’ was certainly a way you could view it. If it wouldn’t completely destroy his secret identity he would’ve told Wade by now he was the CEO and founder, but Peter bit his tongue, knowing it would do more harm than good for the merc to know such knowledge.

“Yeah…?” Peter continued, not liking where this conversation was heading as he took another bite of his dinner, his mask shifting slightly so he could take a bigger chunk of burrito-y goodness.

“Can you help me kill the CEO?”

Peter choked on his burrito, coughing furiously as he attempted to clear his lung of the salsa he just inhaled.

“You want me to kill me- My boss?!” He asked, catching himself before he could prematurely spill the beans on his true identity.

“I knew you’d be mad!” Pouted Wade, dramatically leaning towards Peter. “I know you don’t agree with my thoughts on Peter Parker but I’ve just been given some crazy mad evidence to show you how right I am in my feelings!”

Peter stared at Wade silently, trying to decipher if what he’d heard was all true. ‘Evidence’? What ‘Evidence’? Last Peter checked he hadn’t been up to any devilishly fiendish activities.

“What exactly has…” Peter cleared his throat. “Mr. Parker done?”

Wade revealed a small USB from somewhere inside his suit (Peter didn’t want to think too hard about it) and waved it in front of Peter’s face.

“According to some very reliable sources-“

“Who are those sources Wade?” Asked peter, raising a dubious eyebrow.

“Very reliable.” Tsked Wade, booping Peter on the nose with the USB. “Now be quiet and let me monologue baby boy.”

Deadpool cleared his throat, and gestured to the nearby Parker Industries skyscraper. “according to my sources… Peter Parker’s newest technology- his web ware- has a component to control those who wears it thought’s…”

“Mind control man…” Wade gasped, waving his hands in front of an unamused Peter to get his point across. “Mind controoooolll……..” He whispered.

“So you’re going to kill him because your sources-“

“Very reliable.” Interjected Wade.

“Told you he’s plotting to control the minds of the entire populous of New York?”

“Now are you on my side?” Asked Wade, rolling over on to his stomach and kicking his legs back and forth like a little school girl.

“No Wade.” Deadpanned Peter, crushing the burrito’s foil in his hands and throwing it into a nearby trash can on the buildings roof.

“Peter wouldn’t do something like that…” He added, looking over at his skyscraper, trying to decipher if Wade really had reason to believe Parker Industries would commit such a crime.

Wade scoffed, obviously annoyed that Peter couldn’t see his side of the argument. Why was he being so defensive over his billionaire boss who like all scumbag CEO rich men would toss him aside? Spider-man was only a low level worker at Parker Industries shouldn’t he also rally against his boss like all red-blooded Americans…? Unless he’s already being mind controlled… OMG is spider-man evil right now…

Deadpool glanced over at Spider-man suspiciously, making a mental note to keep a closer eye on him.

Peter sighed, realizing that this argument would go no where like it always did.

“Look Wade, patrols over I’m going home.” Peter said, standing up and pulling his mask back over his face. “Don’t follow me or I’ll websling your foot to your skull.”

Wade watched Peter sling off into the distance, a frown etched onto his face.

Welp if Spidey wouldn’t help him, he’d just have to do it himself… And knowing Parker Industries that might be a tad bit hard.

Wade did his best impression of a cartoon robber, sneakily crawling his way up a large crystalline apartment complex in Brooklyn and using his tippy toes to stealth across the roof.

According to his very reliable resources this was the current home address of one Peter Parker- and if the two katanas and approximately thirty two other small weapons strapped to his body had anything to say- tonight was the night he died.

Using his best form of lock picking (using a muffler on one of his pistols and shooting the door until it opened), Wade made his way inside of the apartment complex, sheathing his pistol and carefully descending the long stair case.

The night was dead silent, a pleasant surprise when living in the big apple.

‘Must come with residing in the fanciest of fucking apartments.’ thought Wade to himself as he continued, avoiding any step that might creek under his weight. ‘Another reason to hate Parker- he was richer than Wade.’

After six whole flights and a good cardio workout, Deadpool was standing in front of the door to Peter Parker’s apartment.

This time he’d be more classy, using some of his high tech tools (courtesy of S.H.I.E.L.D) Wade was able to unlock the doors fifty locks in record time! (An hour spent sitting outside the front door and praying none of his neighbors decided to get a midnight snack from the local connivence store.)

Peter Parker’s apartment was surprisingly messy. Clothes were strewn out in piles and dishes were left in unclean piles dirtying up the sink.

Wade scoffed, if he wasn’t here to kill the guy he might’ve done the fellow a good deed and wiped down his counters.

The door to Parker’s room was left wide open, as well as a nearby window.

Wade kicked himself for not checking the perimeter more closely.

Shedding a quick tear for all the time lost breaking into this joint and with a convenient get away nearby, Deadpool glanced over Parker’s bedroom briefly, noticing the fluffy brown haired demon of a man peacefully sleeping in a messy bed.

Near the night stand laid an unsuspecting duffel bag.

Uh oh- Wade was familiar with this one.

Was it new villainous technology? Money he got from dubious origins? Human remains? Deadpool didn’t know, but he’d be damned if he didn’t find out.

“What we got here Parker…” he whispered aloud to himself as he pried open the duffel bag only for his eyes to land on a little red and blue spandex number he could recognize in his sleep.

“Spidey…?” Gasped Wade, looking confusedly at the suit discarded in the bag.

“Wade…?” came a gruff half asleep voice from behind him.

Deadpool moved on instinct, throwing a small dagger towards the voice without thinking before turning around.

Peter Parker was staring wide eyed at Wade. His body leaning to the left after he dodged the knife Deadpool had thrown.

The man who was now only in boxers Deadpool realized, glanced incredulously at the dagger sticking out of his wall, inches from his head.

Peter looked from Deadpool to the suit in his hands before sighing and shooting a web from his wrist to flick on the light switch, bathing the room in annoying brightness.

“You’re… no…” fumbled Deadpool, a disbelieving laugh pushing past his lips.

“Yeah…” smirked Peter, scratching at the back of my neck.

“But the technology! The evil plans!” Fumbled Wade, trying to tuck the spider suit into his back pocket for later and non erotic reasons. Peter gave him a look and shot another string of web at Wade to pull the suit back towards him.

“That’s why I want to know who your sources are and who’s been using my tech for their own gain.” Frowned Peter, grabbing some nearby sweatpants and pulling them over his boxers (much to wades displeasure).

“Sorry baby boy- can’t get past the fact you’re fucking Peter Parker.” Wade practically shouted.

“Look Wade… can this wait till morning?” Asked Peter, scratching at the stubble on his chin. “It’s four AM and I have to be up at six for a board meeting.”

“Holy Shit! You have board meetings!” Laughed Deadpool, who might’ve gone insane at this point if he wasn’t already.

Peter frowned at him.

“Wade if you let me go back to sleep I’ll let you sleep on my couch and eat my strawberry cream cheese toaster strudels in the morning.”

Like someone had pulled a switch in the enigmatic mind of Deadpool - he gave Peter a cheerful smile and snuck back towards the door.

“Sleep tight baby boy I’ll be here in the morning!” He flourished, kicking his leg in the air in a way that would make a ballet teacher have an aneurysm and flicking off the light switch with his steel toed boot.

With the room bathed once more in darkness, Peter’s tranquility was short lived as Wade pressed a gentle mask covered kiss to his temple and pirouetted out the exit.

Peter knew that come tomorrow, Wade and him would have to have a long chat but for now he was content to go back to sleep.

And for the rest of his days- Peter would ignore the little side of him that wished Wade had done more than a little goodnight kiss.

Chapter two coming soon omg *vine boom sound effects in quick succession of each other*