#questioning how much I know any of my alters now

[00kittenz]

── smarty. ( pjs ) 🪷

๑ Jay has had enough of your brattiness for today, there’s only so much he can take.. so he may as well teach you a little lesson, right?

pair: bf!jay ㅊ gf!reader | warnings: smut, angst (??), small age gap (jay is 5 years older), d/s dynamics, bratty!reader, slight ddlg themes, spanking, p.ssy slapping, oral (f. rec), edging, crying, daddy kink, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, reader is implied to be a curvy/thick girly but anyone can read tbh ! | words: 1.7k

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“what’d i tell you about saying things like that?”

“i don’t care, it’s true !” you snarled, if it hadn’t been made clear how aggravated you were, it sure as hell was now.

you and jay spent the weekend with his parents at a resort somewhere in jeju. everything was going fine at first, that was until an unexpected guest invited themselves to join your little ‘family trip’. her name was hanna ? halie ? you don’t know and you didn’t care. what fogged your mind for the rest of the trip was how she clung up onto jay like the smoke to dry ice.

what agitated you even more about her was her need to call you out asking you a million questions about your clothing and how she’s so shocked that jay settled down with someone like you. all of her backhanded compliments would rub you the wrong way and she just gave you weird vibes. it’s as if you weren’t “pretty enough” to date him; according to her at least. don’t get it twisted, jay definitely shut all of that down. he wouldn’t let any woman pin you as anything less than you were. a fucking goddess.

“why’re you acting like this? what’d i even do?” he paused. “what haneul does has nothing to do with me.” he continued, eyes focused on the road. he’s become fed up with your constant nagging. maybe it’s just his level of maturity that makes him unable to see it, but he doesn’t understand why you worry so much, it was as if every ‘i love you the most’ ‘you’re my favorite’ ‘it’s only you’s’ didn’t matter. he felt like his words held no weight whatsoever.

“nothing to do with you ? hah, you’re the one who let her bombard our vacation. might i add family vacation.” you sterned, shifting your body closer to the door of the vehicle, looking out the window.

“what did you expect me to do y/n? she’s been a family friend for years now, i can’t just tell her to fuck off and go somewhere else. she’d go crying to my mom about how mean i was to her and that’s just extra drama that i don’t need right now..” he exhaled heavily, glancing at your avoidant figure. when he got no reply from you he left it be, turning up the music to avoid the awkward atmosphere the both of you created.

๑ ๑ ๑

“babe, can you pass me my frames ?” jay dared to ask even though you’d been ignoring him since the incident from earlier.

“y/n.” “please ?” watching as you hadn’t budged even a bit he grew upset. it was already bad enough for him that you were acting like he didn’t even exist, which was fine. though, he wouldn’t just take your constant disrespect.

so he got rid of what seemed to be your main source of attention. your phone.

“what the fuck, jay !” you reached at him. “give me my phone !”

“jay !” he mocked, his voice altering to sound high pitched like yours. “don’t you see that i’m trying put things back together? why do you have to act like such a child.” he was disappointed in you. you were a fully legal adult, yet your actions said differently.

“strip.” jay broke the silence you let fill the room. you were hesitant, and confused, but at least you were actually looking at him now. “you heard me, now.” his brow raised as his mouth slipped a scoff.

were you just gonna let him boss you around ? definitely not. were you feeling intimidated ? yes. but your pride stood stronger than the trouble you’d get into. you breathe heavily finding your way to the door of your bedroom for your dramatic escape; until you felt a tug at your arm and then the softness of your mattress, cosigned with the weight of your built boyfriend.

“i guess i have to do everything myself today, huh ?” jay sounded calm but you knew otherwise, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t let this play out just to see this side of him. ‘cause you did. hell, you felt your wetness dripping past the wall of your ass, the sticky sensation sending your body chills.

the jingle of his belt caught your attention, but before you could even glance at him, your face was meshed with the comforter of your shared bed. you shriek.

“jay— !”

“oh now you wanna talk ? huh, funny.” his hand sent goosebumps throughout your body as he runs his palm over your clothed ass. “it’s a shame you don’t listen. now your pretty tails gonna be all red.” he pinched the fabric of your skirt flicking it upwards onto your lower back.

“ ‘m sorry..” you uttered feeling him tug at your underwear.

now, jay was ignoring you. all you felt was him adjusting your waist, so that your ass sat in the air.

“‘m really sorry..ja—” you pause, shrieking at the leather that came in contact with your silky skin. if you could describe the feel of it, it’s like a slow burn, a slow burning that spread like wildfire everytime he unleashed the branded weapon on you.

discipline is a topic your parents took lightly. yeah, they disciplined you, but it was never a ‘bend over my knee’ type of discipline. more like, every morning you wake up ‘sit in that corner’ type of discipline. jay never went soft on you when it came down to it. he wanted to make sure you never do whatever you’re in trouble for again.

“crying ? what’re you crying for,” jay never pushed aside your emotions, he had to hear you out or his guilt would eat him alive. hearing you sniffle shot a sort of worry in him.

“listen, you put yourself in this situation—” he paused throwing his belt. “you already know what happens when you wanna act like a brat.” he palmed your cunt. he wasn’t going to baby you this time, that’s all he ever did. maybe this was partially his fault too..

subconsciously, you felt yourself grinding on his hand. you were needy, you always were after a punishment, even if he didn’t know. but now, you were on display. there was no way he wouldn’t find out.

“you’re such a fucking slut,” his thumb caressing your entrance, pushing your sweetness through your dewy folds. “already so wet for daddy, hm?” his thumb slid through your sticky walls in a in and out motion. your slick caking his finger everytime he pulled it from inside you.

“please..” was a constant that came from your mouth. you didn’t know what you were pleading for. more ? less ? what was it ? you only knew that he made you feel so good. the look of him drenched you. you wanted him to slut you out. ruin you.

“please ? please what?” he couldn’t help but snort at you. the mere thought that you can get what you want with just a please— scratch that. the thought that you think you can get whatever you want after testing his patience, made him laugh. “please.. forgive me ?”

“i dunno..m” you slurred, you were estatic. just his thumb, making you feel so dumb. it made you feel small, like you were nothing but a tiny spectacle of dust.

“you dunno..? wan’ me to help you find out ?” you were flipped onto your back before you knew it. once you saw the shift in his eyes change, you knew what he was prone to do. the thought itself making you spread your legs wide open.

you even made the mistake of trying to rub yourself. that quickly got disposed.

“you lost your damn mind ?” his hand reached down to slap your weeping pussy.

“baby, i can’t wait.. please!” you whined watching as he kneeled down, face between your begging thighs, hands cupping each pretty chunk of flesh.

“but you can.” “matter of fact, you will.” he blew onto your core. the cold sensation bringing your hips to a jolt. his eyes scanned your smaller figure watching every expression that played out on your face, then down to your breasts. “lift up your shirt, let me see your beautiful body, baby.”

earning yourself a “good little girl.” when you comply.

๑ ๑ ๑

you hadn’t gotten a break since he started his mouth on you. drinking in your first orgasm, then the second. seems like you were now on your third.

“fuck.. jay.” you groaned your hips aching to move in his grasp. you’d try not to breakdown whenever his nose came in touch with your throbbing clit.

“you done ? talk to me baby.” he growled against your heat. his warm breath made you thirsty. he was eating you like it was his last supper. ripping you to absolute shreds.

“i’m gonna come, daddy..” your legs were shaking, your voice was whiney, and you needed an exhale. once he started sucking on your clit your back arched. at him, the feel, and the thought of him, making you feel.

“yeah, you gonna come for me ?”

“yeah.. wan’ come for you..” you spoke through labored breaths. once your moaning got louder, he stopped. he’d love to make you come, third times a charm. but he wasn’t going to. he basically lured you in just to trick you.

“jayy !” “it was right there, i was about to cum !” you childishly whined at the begging sensation between your legs. the quivering feeling making you force your legs closed to suppress the throbbing feel. you felt his hungry stare on you. you knew he wanted you. it’s when you realized this wasn’t an after punishment treat. he was edging you. right after overstimulating you. how cruel..

“aww, look at you ! my pretty girl..” he pouted at you, your sad, twitching state. you were groaning for more as he watched you. pitying you. how could you have thought it was over? after a mere spanking ? silly.

“i guess you really thought huh.” he cackled. “ooh ! should we order room service.. i’m kinda hungry. you ?” he got up to go and search for the phone.

maybe you did deserve this. shouldn’t be acting so damn bratty all the time, even if it’s in your nature to piss him off. now look at you. eyes all watery, and a mess between your legs.

oh well, not his problem.

[starfilled-galaxy]

I hc that Hero is half british half pakistani and half Latino in ethnic terms :3

(Me projecting 75% of myself onto him right here)

how does one have 3 halves? /silly

brit... ough now I'm thinking of him with a british accent sob /silly

-💫

Hm... My brother or my other version's brother being Brit is kinda weird (as in unusual for me) but I think Pursuit Hero specifically would be British. I can almost hear the British accent just by thinking about him -🧡

................................................. whagt. you. but. and. i. huh. then..... hhow. how do you even know who pursuit hero IS let alone have an idea for an accent of him and like. and. and thats not how you normally speak or act at all and I kinda assumed you wouldn't even have any thoughts on this topic..... HUH!? -💫

I'm... not just like a 1 dimensional paper cut out? Did you seriously think my only personality trait is being "baby" and hyper? -🧡

YES??????? THGATS HOWS YOUVE BEEN ACTING FOR THE PAST FOREVER????????????????? -💫

[ek-ranjhaan]

She has not just been raped and murdered, she was very much tortured and brutalized like Nirbhaya. It is all over the Bengali news. I don't understand why no one is talking about this.

A 2nd year Respiratory Medicine in a well known government medical college in Kolkata, West Bengal, India is found in a semi-naked state and the college/ hospital called it a suicide.

I'm a MBBS student in second year. After reading about her, what crossed my mind is the amount of times she would have felt this fear, before this worst fear of hers eventually materialized.

"A young resident doctor was found dead in the seminar room of her medical college in Kolkata. Initial autopsy report suggests possible rape and murder."

As all are saying,

She wasn't walking the street at odd hours. She wasn't wearing clothes that were provocative. She wasn't loitering in dangerous neighbourhoods.

She was a resident doctor, looking for a place to rest in her own hospital.

She had been on duty and had gone to rest in the early hours of Friday.

The one place which was supposed to guarantee her safety failed her, miserably.

Someone comes, rapes a female pg who is merely resting in a seminar hall because there is no proper place for her to rest, brutalized her and kills her. How did NO one know? The college and police initially call it a suicide. Excuse me? It is also being said that under pressure from local politicians, the Principal and Dean attempted to alter the post-mortem report. Autopsy confirms sexual assault.

What are the actions taken? One man arrested because his behavior seemed "shady". This is clearly not an act of one man. And this was a very well aware of and a well executed criminal act.

Also, all this happening in WB right when the situation of bangladesh is in turmoil and news of Bangladeshi Hindus being killed and tortured, seems wrong, VERY WRONG. Happening right before NEET-PG, as 24 lakh doctors prepare to write an exam on Sunday to be resident doctors, this news has wrapped us all in agony and rage,

What are they working so hard for? Why should they aspire to be in a system that ignores their basic needs? The minimum requirement of a workplace is safety. That should be non-negotiable.

This profession demands extereme hardwork, a lot of mental strength and Physical Assaults, harassment, low paying jobs with odd working hours with intense humiliation. Now its the worst of all seeing a bright mind losing her life in the most disrespectful state of all. This should never happen to any woman.

I'd also like to question why isn't any big media house covering this news, where are all the international news channels all this time.

What are the students in other medical colleges doing? This talks about their own safety and lives. What are the medical students across the world doing? It's time for us to stand for the most basic Human right, safety.

Yesterday when my roommate, an MBBS final year intern was heading for her night posting, I feared and prayed for her to come back safely. Thinking about it, in a few years I will also have night posting, I'll also return from my hospital duties late at night. I'll also have to go through the same fear, and I'll also have to keep praying that my worst fears don't turn into reality. So many female doctors, nursing staffs, other Healthcare workers, other working women, non-working women go through the same fear, probably multiple times a day.

It is a shame to be born in such a disgusting world and society, it is shame to witness such a brutal crime, and it is a shame to live in this fear daily.

Those RAPISTS need to be hunged infront of the whole natio...if needed burned alive. People should fear the idea of raping, more than getting raped.

[romanteacism]

Knight Aemond x Princess Reader Neglectful Jealousy

Synopsis: Ser Aemond is faced with the unsettling feeling of your ignorance, an administration of his own medicine. Warnings: None (yet), Aemond still being stubborn and in denial, ¿infatuation?, Jealousy (both sides) PREVIOUS PART / NEXT PART

You frustratingly still struck no luck in befriending or at least acquainting yourself with your knight. He had been stationed to you for a moon and a half now, but still, you hadn’t even struck up at least one conversation with him. He would only nod or shake his head; his vocabulary stuck onto two words: ‘yes’ and ‘no,’ but for the most part, he just grunts his answer or, worst yet, ignores you altogether. You were tempted to ask your brother for a new knight, at least someone whose animosity for you you could not feel wafting off him, but you felt ashamed in complaining and admitting the possibility someone holds such dislike for you. So you suffered through his silence, still trying your earnest effort for him to resemble at least an ounce of tolerance for you. 

“Cousin!” You hear someone in the gardens yell as you walk with your knight. You turn behind and smile wide as you see your cousin fast approaching. You match her pace and run towards her, Aemond following in pursuit. “What are you doing here? Did we know you were to come?” You asked excitedly, finally having a companion. “No, we are sadly just passing by on our way to the north. I am to meet my betrothed,” She smiled, but you noticed her gaze shifting to the knight with flowing silver hair who stood stoically behind you. “Cousin, this Ser Aemond— Ser Aemond, my cousin, Lady Liza,” You introduced, and your cousin stepped forward to meet eye-to-eye with your knight. “My lady,” Aemond bowed as common courtesy. 

You linked your arm with your cousin, who you noticed had been staring too fondly at your knight. “Until when are you to stay?” You asked as you two strolled along the gardens, “Just until this afternoon, my father needed to sort out a small matter with the King, and we needed to change horses as well.” She said, and you feel your excitement lower as she was only to stay a few hours, and by the sun's fall, you will be alone once more. “So soon? Why won’t you stay the night and just travel on the morrow?” You suggested, and she sighed, Liza turning her head partly to steal a glance at Ser Aemond. “That is a most generous and practical offer, but Father insists we reach the North as soon as possible, no time to be spared.” You pouted at the thought, “But let us not dwell on that; you have me for the whole afternoon; come tell me all about your line of suitors,” You blush at her words. 

Aemond went stiff at the subject proposed by your cousin, and he noticed the blush on your face. “There is not much to tell; I am still acquainting myself with them,” You say softly, not entirely comfortable with the subject. “Hm… and do you not hold a favor for any of them? Surely one holds more sway than the others,” You shook your head, unrelenting. You were to open another subject, but your cousin halted in her tracks and turned to your knight. “I would account for you being present during my cousin’s acquaintance with the other lords, Ser Aemond. Who would you say had captivated her the most?” Your cousin questioned, and you wanted to scoff because you expected Ser Aemond not to pay attention during your courtship and not answer your cousin’s query. However, you were rendered speechless as he spoke. “Lord Ashford, my lady,” he said truthfully as he had the displeasure of following you around the keep in the company of Lord Ashford the most. 

You turned to Aemond, whose gaze was on your cousin, who simply smirked up at him, an odd feeling of shock and another emotion in you that you could not express swirling in your stomach. The hour passed with you and your cousin discussing your suitors, no matter how hard you tried to alter the subject. When tea was served, it offered you a small reprieve from the topic. You picked at the candied lemons as you saw your cousin place a pastry on a cloth napkin. “Would you like some, Ser Aemond?” You hear her ask, and in your head, you can already hear the silence of Aemond ignoring her query; that is what he often did with you. “Thank you for the offer, but no, my lady,” Aemond said, his voice holding a tone of civility that was often absent when he addressed you. 

You tried to control your reactions as you sank further in your seat. How was he so polite with Liza but could not even uphold the same manners for you? You wanted to think it was because of her station, a highborn lady, but you were a princess. Should that not perhaps warrant the same degree of respect, maybe even more?

When the sun was starting to set, your cousin was already to leave. “Wait! I have a gift for you; I forgot to send it to you on your last name day; it’s in my chambers; I shall retrieve it.” You say quickly, not giving her any time to reply as you run through the halls. But as you ran, you could not account for the clink of armor following behind. You glanced at your back; your knight, who was often glued at your side, now stood in the middle of the hall chatting with your cousin. The odd sensation on your stomach returned, but now it infected your chest as well. You went to your chambers and retrieved the parcel that was meant for your cousin, returning where you had left her and Ser Aemond. You tried to hide your astonishment and perhaps even anger as you saw how freely he conversed with her. Gone was the furrow in his brows or the scowl on his lips; it was now replaced with a ghost of a smile. 

You squared your shoulders and placed a small smile on your lips as you approached. “Here,” you smiled as you handed Liza her gift, “How kind of you, sweet cousin, come, escort me to the gates?” She questioned, and you nodded. You peaked a look at your knight whose once elated presence had returned stoic the moment you arrived.  “How did you do it?” You whisper to Eliza as Aemond stays by the gates, and you and your cousin stand by the wheelhouse. “Do what?”

“Make Ser Aemond speak with you? Perhaps made him amused?” You asked quietly, watching as your cousin frowned at the rather obvious answer to your query. “Nothing, I just spoke, and he answered. Is that not how a conversation goes?” She asked; you shook your head. “I tried that, but he mostly just ignores me.” You say, low-spirited. “Hm… perhaps give him time to warm up to you; maybe it is just that,” Your cousin smiled, but that did nothing to ease the burning question in your mind. How much more time could Ser Aemond want? He had been assigned to you for almost two moons but still struggles to show at least an ounce of courtesy, but he had no trouble in showing kindness to your cousin, who he had just met mere hours ago. 

“Safe travels, cousin,” You smiled and kissed her cheek, “Thank you, and I shall see you at your wedding— hopefully it’d be sooner rather than later?” She teased, and you let out an amused laugh and a shake of your head. Stepping away from the wheelhouse and returned inside the castle. 

When a new day broke, you were still plagued by the animosity shown by your sworn protector. You thought he was simply incapable of showing cordiality to anyone, but it seemed to be that he picked those for whom he showed goodwill. 

“Princess,” Aemond greeted as always when they stepped out of your chambers every morning. He was waiting for your reply; you would often bid him good day or ask about his night and if he had found a moment of rest during his watch, but you stayed silent, momentarily confusing him. Aemond squired you through all your lonesome engagements for the day, but you uttered not a single word, confusing him even more. “Good night, Princess,” Aemond bowed as you entered your chambers as the day ended. He was once again expecting your reply, but you only ignored him, administering the same actions he did you. 

Three days had passed, and you uttered not a single word to your knight; you barely even placed your gaze upon him. He never thought it possible for you to hold your tongue for such a long period of time. He had gotten used to your babbling and him ignoring it, though he genuinely did listen; he just offered no reply. Aemond assisted you to your solarium; normally, you would leave the door open, and he would stand by it, but for the past few days, you would shut it close. Aemond is now staring at a blank wall instead of observing you as you paint and listening to you hum a tune. There was a rather bothering feeling in his gut at your avoidance and stoicism at him; he wondered if that is how you felt when he would try to ignore you moons before. 

Aemond straightened his back as a squire approached and knocked upon your door. “Princess, your afternoon tea is ready,” He bowed, and Aemond saw a glimpse of your smiling at the squire and heard a soft ‘thank you’ leave your lips. So, you can still speak, he thought, realizing further that you were truly ignoring his presence. 

Aemond stood by your side as you sat in the gardens, a book in one of your hands whilst the other held a cup of tea. Aemond stared at the back of your head, willing you to turn to him, but you kept your gaze planted on your book. At this hour of the day, you would often offer him some refreshments, but you no longer did that. Was it too forward for him to admit to himself that he had missed your concern? 

Aemond clenched his jaw as he felt and heard his stomach rumble; his last meal was last night. For once, he wished you would offer him some of the food placed before you; perhaps this time, he would not ignore your kind offer. But he had scorned you too often with his disregard. Aemond shifted in his place as his stomach rumbled once more, biting his tongue and closing his eye tightly as he tried to control his hunger. When it happened for the third time, you sighed and placed a custard tart on a plate, and raised it to him, your gaze still pointed at your book. 

Aemond was stunned at your action; he stared at the tart for a moment and felt his mouth water. He lowered his pride, took it off the plate, and hastily ate it before getting caught by any other passerby in the gardens. “Thank you, princess,” he said quietly as the food you offered sedated his grumbling stomach. Aemond heard no reply from you, only the sound of a page-turning. 

As the day progressed, Aemond still had not gotten a word from you, and a feeling started to claw at him. Guilt? Perhaps. He thought maybe he should not have been so dismissive of you, that perhaps he should not have been so overly warry of your kindness and took it for granted because now he missed it. It was hard for him to watch you be agreeable with any other person in the castle except for him. He would often watch steely-eyed as you jested with the other knights or how you would smile before the servants. And the only thing you did with him was ignore his presence.

Aemond felt determination surge him. Deciding to make you return to the way it was, with you speaking and offering kindness to him, and perhaps this time, he would not be so dismissive of you. He was not certain as to where to begin and how long it would take, but that was the least of his problems because he, after all, was your sworn protector, tasked to be by your side until his dying breath. He had a lifetime to make you like him once more. 

[7seas-of-ryy]

Come Back To Me

Author’s Note: Italics are flashbacks! Grumpy x Sunshine! No shenanigans in this one! I'm sorry!

Summary: You had always been the positive one in the IC but one mission can change everything. Set during the war with Hybern!

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: talks of torture, let me know if I need to add any others :)

"Hey, I brought you something to eat." Azriel barely whispered as he entered your room.

You looked his way but said nothing, then turned your head back to what you were looking at. The view of the city from your room was always gorgeous, but now it was just something to for you to stare at while you struggled to get through the days.

Disappointment flooded the shadowsinger when you made no move to grab the food.

It had been months of this. Months of him trying to get you back to how you used to be. It seemed you made no improvement but he still tried.

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"Azzzzzz" You called out in a sing-song voice.

"What now?" He grumbled out.

He was trying to do work, frustrated he couldn't find a solution for Rhysand. And being holed up in the library was not helping his mood.

"You have to try this! I picked it up at the bakery and it is delicious!" You told him with pure excitement, not letting his attitude alter your mood.

You never let anyone get in the way of your mood. Happiness seemed to be easy for you. Glass half full was definitely how you viewed life. Azriel envied that.

Without waiting for a reply from the male, you held up the pastry to his mouth.

"I can feed myself." He spoke and gave you a look.

Instead of replying, you put the pastry in his face again. He rolled his eyes yet took a bite of the treat.

It was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted. His eyes immediately shut and groaned. That was what you loved, seeing these small moments where he wasn’t worried about saving everyone.

You could see the frustration fade from his face, replaced by awe of how amazing the baked good was.

"You can have the rest! I'll get out of your hair so you can get back to work. Oh! I almost forgot, I also got you this coffee, let me know if you need any help!" You told him as you made your way to the exit.

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The spymaster felt useless. It seemed there was nothing he could do for you... until an idea came to him.

He got to the bakery as fast as possible and bought the same pastry that you had bought him all those years ago. He grabbed himself a coffee and made his way back to you.

After knocking on your door to let you know he was coming in, he walked over to you.

"Guess what I got you!" He said with a smile, "Its one of those pastries that you love so much!"

He held it in front of you and you didn't even look his way.

Suddenly his apetite was gone. He didn't think it was possible for his heart to hurt anymore than it currently did. He kissed the top of your head and let you be.

Without another thought, he went to find Rhys.

"Help her. I don't care what you have to do, help her right now." Az pleaded.

"You know I can't do that. She hasn't asked me to and I don't do that without consent." Rhys told him.

"This is all your fault! You should have stopped her! Forbid her from using herself as a distraction! She is a shell of herself because of you!" Az was now shouting, letting his emotions take over.

"Do you think I don't know that? Do you think I wanted to leave her there?" Rhys shouted right back.

He was hurting from all of this too, everyone in the IC was. They had saved you and yet it seemed everyone was mourning the person you once were.

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He could hear you giggling before he saw you. As he entered his room, he saw you standing with your hands behind your back and a giant grin on your face.

Az eyed you suspiciously and crossed his arms over his chest.

"What're you doing in my room?" He questioned and his voice was rougher than he wanted it to be.

"Do you remember your leathers that ripped during the last mission we were on?" You asked the male.

He nodded his head in response, waiting for you to continue.

"I fixed them!" You said, revealing the repaired leathers that had been behind your back.

"I sewed them up and reinforced the seam!" You told him with such excitement.

His eyes softened slightly and he wanted to reach out and hug you but he couldn't let himself. He wouldn't let himself get too close to you, couldn't handle the pain of another loved one getting hurt.

"Thank you," He spoke bluntly then cleared his throat, "What were you laughing at?"

"A few of your shadows and I were just thinking about how you ripped them. I can't believe your leg slipped and you did the splits!" You let out another giggle.

He tried to fight it but a small smile made it's way to his face at your joy.

"Well, thank you again." He spoke quickly before you noticed his grin.

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He looked down at his clothes as he sat next to you in your room, there were small holes and rips all over them.

Normally you repaired them without him asking. He told you that you didn't have to but you assured him you wanted to. Now, he refused to let anyone else fix his clothes.

"Mor refuses to be seen with me in public." Azriel told you with a small laugh.

"She says I look homeless with all these rips in my clothes. But I don't care, I don't trust anyone else to sew my shirts besides you." He spoke again with a smile.

You still stayed completely still, staring at the city below. You felt hollow. It didn't matter that you were still alive, you were dead as far as you were concerned. There was no way to continue life after everything that had happened.

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It was supposed to be simple, meet with Eris, gather information on Hybern and return to the Night Court. The four of you weren't expecting a trap.

As you entered the old building to meet Eris, you could sense something was off. Your suspicions were confirmed when one wrong step set off a trap. Arrows, ash wood arrows shot out from all directions. Luckily you weren't hit by any. Two hit Rhys, one in his shoulder and one in his wing. One hit Feyre in her leg. And four...four hit Azriel; two in his wings, one in his side and one in his leg.

You ran to Az to help him, seeing he had the worst wounds.

"Hey hey, you're ok. I'm going to get you home and we can heal you up, ok?" You told him, giving him a smile that didn't reach your eyes. You forced your tears away, not willing to let him think you were worried.

He loved that smile. He was dying and yet all he could think about was how much your smile meant to him.

As you were trying to break the arrows so you could pull them out of him, you noticed his face pale. And then you heard it, Hybern's soldiers.

The trap must have alerted them and they would be here any minute.

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Rhys had told Az that you drank a few sips of water and ate a tiny bit. As soon as he got the news, he was running to your room. You hadn't responded to anyone at all yet but he seemed to be filled with a new hope.

So, he sat here talking to you and couldn't keep a smile off his face.

"I heard you got some food down, I'm proud of you." He gently offered his words.

He stayed with you for the rest of the day, talking to you about any and everything. He had never spoken so much in his life.

Months passed after that with no more improvements in your condition, it seemed you would never get better. He knew he fell in love with you no matter how hard he tried to stop it, so he fought like hell to hold onto whatever hope he had.

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You dragged Az with all your strength over to Rhys and Feyre. She seemed to be doing ok despite the arrow still sticking out of her thigh. She had pulled the arrows out of Rhys but he was still very hurt.

"Are you ok to winnow?" You asked Rhys.

"I think so, but I won't be able to carry all three of you." He spoke through pained breaths.

"You don't need to. Just get Feyre and Az out of here." You commanded your High Lord.

You knew that if they stayed, you would all be dead. Rhys couldn't carry all of you in his condition, you just hoped he would listen to what you told him to do.

"What? No, how will you get out?" Azriel whispered from the ground.

"I have a plan." You told him.

"You three can't fight, you will die if you stay here. Winnow them out and get Az to a healer." You told Rhys through your mind.

He seemed to be going back and forth in his head, trying to figure out a different way. He gave you a weary look.

"There's no other way. I'll be ok, you have to go now. They're almost here." You added.

The soldiers came running in, ready to attack. You ran right at them, fighting them so they couldn’t get to the other three. You could hear Az screaming to stay as Rhys grabbed him and winnowed out.

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He had been drunk for three days straight at this point. He welcomed the numbness after all the agony he has felt. Once it was night time, he made his way to your room and sat down outside of your door to sleep, just like he did every night in case you needed him.

In the morning, Feyre passed by your door. Az was still asleep and smelled of booze.

She quietly snuck past him and went into your room.

"Hey, I'm not sure what to say or do to help you. But I wanted to let you know how hard Azriel is trying. I mean...you know that but I just want you to realize how much he loves you. How much we all love you. There's not a day that goes by that I don't think about what happened, I wish it had been me instead... but you need to know that Azriel is drowning. He is drowning without you. I have never seen him like this and I think we might lose him for good. If you don't have the strength to fight for yourself, please… fight for him." Feyre pleaded with you.

You didn't respond but what she said stuck with you. You had tried everything but it didn't matter, you couldn't find the strength to help yourself. Maybe it would be easier to find strength for the one you love.

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"We just got word. Y/N is alive and we have her location." Rhys spoke quickly.

Azriel shot up from his spot, getting his weapons ready instantly.

As soon as everyone was set, they left to rescue you. After a couple hours, they found you. You were bloody and bruised all over, chained up. Tears welled up in Azriel's eyes but he focused on saving you. He flew you home and you showed Rhys everything.

Rhys saw how you were tortured, starved, and beat every day. He saw how they questioned you about the Night Court and you never gave up anything. You were held captive for three months…he wasn’t sure how you survived.

After they saved you and found out everything you went through, Azriel helped you bathe. You never talked, just nodded or shook your head and you never looked up. He was so grateful you were safe and back with them but he sure did miss your smile.

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It was a beautiful morning, you sat watching the orange and pink sky as the city woke up. There was a knock at the door and Az walked in. He didn’t speak as he set a tray of breakfast foods and coffee down. You didn’t even look over at him but not because you were still checked out. No, this time it was because you couldn’t pull your eyes from the beauty of the sunrise.

You aren’t exactly sure why but you felt something crack inside of you, this was the first time since you were taken that you felt something positive. It was the first time you wanted to live to see these pink and orange hues again.

When Azriel looked over at you he realized there were tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Are you ok?! What’s wrong!?” He panicked, checking everywhere for threats.

“It’s beautiful.” You choked out in between sobs, pointing at the sunrise.

He let out a breath he had been holding in and visibly relaxed. He sat next to you and pulled you close. You leaned into him and he put his arm around you. Neither of you talked, just enjoyed watching the sky come to life in front of you.

He looked down at you after some time had passed and saw the faintest smile on your face. It was barely there but he saw it and that was all that mattered.

“It’s breathtaking.” Azriel stated.

You shook your head in agreement, but what you didn’t know was that he wasn’t talking about the view, he was talking about you.

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“Please please please!” You begged Azriel.

“You woke me up at 4am to watch the sunrise?!” He mumbled with a look of irritation on his face.

“You have to see it! I promise it’ll be worth it!” You continued to beg.

“Fine but I’m not going to be happy about it.” He grunted as he got out of bed, following you to the balcony.

You pulled him down next to you, the pure excitement and adoration you had for something as simple as a sunrise made the spymaster’s heart clench.

The both of you sat and watched the sunrise and you laid your head on his shoulder.

“Isn’t it so beautiful?” You asked him without taking your eyes from the sky.

“It really is.” He responded without taking his eyes from you.

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[joonieskinks]

I just read your blurb where reader wakes up and she’s married to Sergeant Soap and not Captain Soap but I feel like what if it’s reversed. What if she’s this young bonnie thing with a young husband and then she wakes up to be married to older, slightly more mature, Captain MacTavish.

uh- HELLO?? I love it. Sorry it took so long but here you go, hope I did it justice xx

warning: age gap so shoo if ur not into it

You sat up slowly in the bed, stilling orientating yourself and emerging from sleep. You had thought the sheets felt a little different, but assumed that maybe you were still dreaming. It was only when your eyes opened did you realize you weren’t at home anymore.

You were on base in the early morning, in a room that looked an awful like your husband’s when you would come to see him and stay with him for a couple nights. Well, that was what you did until his passing.

Johnny and you were a young love. He got down on one knee before he was even 23, and got to the altar before 24. You only got a couple months with him as husband and wife- a young widow they now called you. Everyday is hard, but that horrible day you received the news plays over and over in your mind all the time like a nightmare you just can’t shake.

John, Simon and Kyle all came to your door to tell you personally. They cried with you and stayed with you, they promised they would help take care of you, always. It’s what Johnny would have wanted.

The panic finally began to sink in as you could not remember how you got here. Everything was different but also incredibly familiar. This was the base alright, but the layout seemed altered, the paint a different colour. Looking around, you turned on the nightstand light, eyes briefly glancing at the framed photo beside.

It was like your blood turned cold.

There was your Johnny.

That’s your Johnny with his boys, with John, Simon, Kyle. But older, so much older. But he was alive, he was smiling, he’s so handsome and he’s there-

You shot out of bed, running into the hallway, searching for anyone, any familiar face. For your husband. Is he your husband? If he’s older? But how is he alive? Is he still alive?

The questions running around your head, threatening to ignite tears from your eyes. You turn a sharp corner, bumping straight into a hefty figure.

“Sorry” you stumbled out, trying to regain your balance.

“‘S alright.” The man started, looking down at the small, young girl who’s a frantic mess before him.

“Hey, hold on,” he starts again, and you glance up. Coming face to face with John Price. Much older, a thicker beard adorning his face, but that same damn hat. It was him.

“Slow down there a sec and-“

“John?”

The recognition in your voice stops him in his tracks, he looks you over for a couple seconds and shakes his head.

“Think you might be mistaken, love.” He smiles gently, trying to be as polite as possible.

“Johnathon Price- Captain. You, Kyle, Simon and my Johnny were all on Taskforce 141 when we met. You even came to our wedding, you were one of the groomsmen for crying out loud. I-“

“Stop right there.” John orders, his hands coming to grip your shoulders. “How could you possibly know about all that?”

“John, I know you. Now, what’s going on? How did I get here and why’re you older?” You asked, utterly confused and exhausted, you needed answers and you needed them now.

He glanced around the room before making his decision.

“Alright, come with me. We’ve gotta talk.”

-

John sat you down in a private room with a two-way mirror where you told him all about himself, how you woke up here and your marriage. Your Johnny MacTavish, your young husband who went by Soap. Everything, you laid it all on the table, the task force, the mission, the death. Everything.

And John believed you, as crazy as it sounded, from wherever you came from and however you got here- because how else could you know all this?

As he listened, he kept looking to your ring finger, the gold band adorning that you refused to ever take off. He admired your devotion.

John sat, silent when you finished, glancing towards the mirror every now again. Thinking and planning his next move.

“Wait here.” He stood up from his chair and left out the door, leaving you with your own thoughts. But only the same questions were on repeat.

Where am I? What was that photo? Why is he older? Is he still alive? Does he know who I am? Would he think I’m crazy? What now?

You almost didn’t register the sound of Price opening the door again until his figure reappeared. He could only stare at you, empathy in his eyes. Although this was a weird situation, he could tell you were genuine and wanted to help, so he trusted you. Anything for his boys, Johnny included.

“He’s been listening.” John starts and you draw in a breath.. You didn’t even know you were holding it.

He? As in your Johnny?

“He would like to meet you, if you’d like to see him-“

“Yes.” You reply without thinking.

Eager for anything, anything at all that could bring you a glimpse Johnny. The love of your life taken so young, life was so cruel and unfair. Taking him just as you were happiest. He was alive but was this still your Johnny? From the photo he was older, he’s different. He probably doesn’t even know who you are, for all you know he could be married, have his own kids. Who the hell are you to interrupt all of that?

“Then I’ll take my leave.” John huffs, interrupting your thoughts. He eyes you up and down one last time before exiting once again.

You sit up from your chair instinctively, playing with your ring. It’s only now that the doubt hits you like a truck.

Would he believe you? Would he laugh you off? Would he even like what he sees?

The thoughts raced until he opened up the door, reveling himself to you. Then you could only stare in shock.

That was your Johnny.

Older, yes. But that was him. Banged up with more scars, he looks tired yet wears his age well, you just wish you could’ve seen him grow older alongside you… But that’s your Johnny alright.

His eyes drag from the floor to meet yours and he offers you a small smile. It’s enough to shoot the air back into your lungs and for your heart to beat again. The tears starts to leave your eyes and your hands shoot up to wipe them away.

Johnny takes a good look at you and particularly that golden wedding band that he supposedly gave you. It’s still always been his dream to marry a girl like you, in some odd way he feels proud that in another life he got you. A gorgeous, caring and devoted wife that he could love up and spoil. Johnny knows himself and in any life, he would do the same: wife up a woman like you. Looks like he did. Looks like he still could.

“I ‘eard what ye said.” He softly speaks. You close your eyes at the sound. It feels so good to hear him again. A little different, but it’s still him.

“Bonnie, ye don’t have to cry.”

He steps forward to cup your face, wiping your tears away with his fingers. You place your own hands over his, keeping him there. Having him touch you again, it’s better than anything you could have ever prayed for. This is all you think about and to finally have it all come true. Even if it’s just for a second, you’d trade it all away.

“My wife, eh?” Johnny jokes to try and lighten the mood. You look up into his eyes and laugh with a smile despite the tears still leaking. He doesn’t mind, he wipes them still anyway.

“It’s so good to see you again.” You confess, a hand leaving his to touch his scarred face. From his cheeks, a thumb over his chin and his lips. He’s so hard to look away from, how handsome he grew up to be. His gaze and attention makes you bite your lip out of habit. A blush flooding your cheeks- he still has the same effect on you. Damn.

The feeling goes straight to your core, and you react before you can think. Bringing your face to his, foreheads resting against each others while your hands explore his back and shoulders, his neck and through his hair. Something he used to love, and it makes you whine a little when he moans at the feeling. He loves your touch just as much.

“Lass, yer doin’ somethin’ wild to me.” Johnny stumbles out, his hands coming to rest on your waist, pulling you in until you’re flush with his body. He feels so good, so toned under his clothes and solid. You didn’t want him to stop, your mind starting to spin.

He runs his hands up your sides, gliding your shirt up to touch the bare skin underneath. The slightest touch has you moaning his name out and he can’t help but swell with pride as he sees this gorgeous, young girl before him come apart, desperate for more of him. His ego has never felt so big until this moment.

“Johnny…”

“What do y’a need?” He mumbles out against your lips, brushing them with just enough touch to set your skin on fire, begging for more.

“Kiss me.” You lean further into his touch, eyes fluttering shut. It’s all too much, and yet you want more. God, you knew that if he were to take you right here in this room, you’d come undone within a minute. Easily. Happily.

“Please.”

“Well- what the wife wants, the wife gets.” He chuckles as he clashes his lips to yours, his large frame utterly engulfing your small one. The way he uses your title so easily, wife- you can’t help but need more of him everywhere, all over like a wife deserves from her husband. Your own hands itching for more of him to touch, your mouths moving together, tongues finding each other as he hums against you.

Johnny guides you and gently backs you up against the wall, a hand protecting your head as your body meets it. You try to pull him even closer to you, grabbing at his clothes when you realize you need him completely bare. It’s been so long since you’ve felt good, only ever wanting your husband. And now here he is just for you. You wonder if he’s even better now with his age... Hard to tell without a test drive.

But it’s only when you need to part for air that some of reality comes back to you.

Guilt.

“Wait, Johnny.” The alarm bells go off in his head and he looks at you worriedly.

“What’s wrong?” Seeing his eyebrows crease you immediately try to calm him. Another kiss to his lips and he eases up a bit. Just like he used to.

“I need to know. Do you- do you already have someone? A wife?”

Your nerves hit once more. He could still have someone in this universe or wherever you are. And even like this, you couldn’t be that woman that ruins a marriage. Even if he does feel rightfully yours.

Johnny smiles a bit at the question before glancing downward, almost as if he’s shy or embarrassed.

“Nay, never did.” He starts before taking your cheeks back into his hands, looking into your eyes.

“Just you.”

The biggest smile breaks out on your face, your hands tugging at his shirt to bring his lips back down to yours. He feels good, warm, right. Yours. Still yours. Always yours.

“I know I’m a little young, but that doesn’t bother you, does it?” You ask with a slight smirk against his lips.

Johnny just laughs, his hands working their way down your body to cup your ass almost possessively.

“Certainly not.” His eyes looking all over your face, taking you all in. Gods, you’re gorgeous and all his? He could still hardly believe it, but he’ll be damned if he didn’t at least get to know you and try to make it all work with you. He owes that much to himself.

“Does it bother you?”

“Hmm? You being older?” You ask innocently.

Johnny only nods, still admiring your beautiful face, his girl.

You shake your head no, not daring to look away from his gaze.

“I think it’s sexy, Sergeant John MacTavish.” You quip teasingly.

A groan escapes his lips, his pants straining against him almost painfully at this point. He needed you now or he might combust.

“This room or mine?” Johnny whispers, bringing his knee in between your legs and his mouth to your ear.

“And it’s Captain now, bonnie. Make a decision or I’ll make one for ya. Put on a show.” He glances to the two-way mirror and a nervous giggle leaves your lips.

Your husband most certainly would do such a thing.

-

Johnny was sure to make you use his proper title as he properly had you in bed, as well as used yours.

And with your volume and his reach, everyone on the base now knew he had a wife.

Things were complicated, sure, but you two would figure it out. He knew you both wanted to give it a try and were both willing despite it all.

And after a few weeks, he decides that all there’s left to do is buy a ring of his own that’ll match yours.

[clawsdevour]

dinner or a bath first?

wc: 2.4k content warning: smut, kitchen sex, established relationship, creampie, fingering, swallowing cum, my booty writing, multi-fandom x reader, one shot, not proofread

ల۫  ۪𓆪

You looked at the clock. It’s currently 9:26 PM. Your husband ran a bit late due to being held overtime for a big company project this past month. He’s been working so behind lately you can’t help but sigh whenever you slide into your warm linen sheets, knowing you won’t see him until you watch him leave for work. You get up from bed, slip into your fuzzy slippers, and head into the kitchen to cook some late-night dinner. Turning on the lamp that lights almost the whole room, you decide to unwind your pent-up sexual desires with a glass of your favorite wine. You have this lurking feeling that he’s gonna come home earlier than usual and decide to make a larger portion of dinner that night.

As usual, heat up the pan with some oil and sizzle away the raw seasoned steak. While it hissed, you cut up some veggies to cook alongside the main dish of the night. That was until you paused. The crackling of the pan and steak continued as the steam rising up polluted the air. You heard the front door squeak open and the big heavy dress shoes clacking against the marble entrance. Your husband had returned home from work at a much earlier time than usual. His face lit up at the sight of you cooking at such a late time for supper, usually you were in bed exhausted.

“Darling, I’m home” he says softly with a smile, slowly approaching you with his blazer in hand. His hair slightly messed up from working, his lingering cologne that was faded almost completely off, roughed up tie and collar, and expensive shoes clunking as he steps further.

“I miss you.. how was work today baby?” You question sheepishly, as your eyes linger at his current state. A tall lean, muscular man in a nice suit and tie just coming home from work. The sight was something to behold since you haven’t seen him come home in so long. You couldn’t help but think to yourself, He’s so attractive even in this state. Usually you’re laying in bed waiting for him to come home but end up falling asleep before he’s laying next to you. His eye bags were quite dark from the lack of sleep and you worried if he’s eaten yet.

“It was good, we’re starting to come to a close and end this long project. How long has it been since I started this project again.. was it, two? No, almost three weeks. I’m sorry sweetheart, it’s been a long month,” he furrows his brows and takes off his glasses to massage the bridge of his nose in frustration to put them back on again. He laid his blazer on the edge of the kitchen counter and sat on the island stool, watching you flip over the steak to its oiled aromatic side.

“Don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault this project has been long and rough. Hopefully you end off this company project with a bang.. Have you eaten, or would you prefer a bath first?” Looking up at him his eyes were widened a bit. Assuming that he wanted that delicious steak for dinner first, you continue to return to chopping up the rest of the vegetables. That was until you felt his large beefy arms wrap around your waist and the warmth of his face in the crook of your neck.

“Darling, I don’t want any of those right now” was what was whispered in your ear. His sleepy voice altered your senses when you felt something press against you.

It wasn’t just his muscular body, but his bulging cock against his slacks which were pressing against your ass. You were trapped around his big strong arms. You couldn’t help but gasp when he started to lay a kiss down your neck.

“I miss you so much darling, it’s been so long since I saw you at home cooking dinner like a regular person,” you can’t help but drop the knife you used to slice your vegetables with. Turning around, you put your arms around his shoulders and kissed him on the lips. Looking him in the eye, his eyelids seemed heavy nevertheless he was filled with desire and lust that screamed out that he wanted you right here and right now. 

He kissed you back and put his arms behind you, onto the counter. He also switches the stove off with his left hand or else your supper would be ruined. Behind you, he moves the cutting board to the side so he’s able to push you up onto the counter to match his height. With his strong hands, he helps you up the counter and you pull him in to continue making out.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited for you?” Pulling away to breathe you said in between pants. Smiling at him because of how long it’s gotten since you were still crushing on him back then. You can’t help but let out a small giggle as you start spread your legs open for him to come closer. The heat exuding from your legs, being rubbed by his built up boner you can’t help but moan as you closed him in. The fabric between your thin silk dress, panties and his pants, you were able to feel every touch and grind.

“I’ll make up for that missing time with you right now darling,” he tells you with a slight smirk on his face and irregular breathing pace. You watch as he roughs up his hair even more by putting his hand through it. He loosens his crooked tie by toying with it from left and right. As well as unlooping up a few buttons that felt tight onhis chest. You can’t help but gulp as you watch patiently for the moment you’ve been waiting for, but first you decided that he needed a treat. You hop off the kitchen counter and kneel down. He wasn’t expecting this when you unzipped his pants making eye contact with him with a cunning smile.

“You deserve this after a long rough day,” taking his large caged cock out of his boxers. His big dick recoils out of place and just slightly hits his abdomen, he’d been craving you for who knows how long that there’s already precum on his tip. He watches you as you start to suck on his tip, keeping eye contact with him. Watching his reactions made you so horny and wet. His whimpers were music to your ears, the sounds your mouth made when you went deeper onto his cock were beyond lewd. He started to push your head down slowly until you felt his cock kissed the back of your throat making you tear up a bit. Still, you kept on sucking and bobbing your head on his deliciously girthy cock.

When his cock started to twitch, your pace grew faster knowing he’s gonna cum. His moans roared louder and his grip in your lucious locks grew tighter. You can’t help yourself but feel absolutely soaked down there hearing your husband’s seductive moans and whimpers echo throughout the house like on replay.

“A-Ah, I..I’m c-cumming!” He tries to push your head off so you wouldn’t have to swallow his cum. To his surprise though, you had your fingers clutched tightly onto his hips to stabilize yourself. You wanted his every drop in you, until he sucked bone dry. When he came into your mouth you couldn’t help but swallow it all. When you released your grip and slid your mouth off his cock, he looked nothing but horrified.

“Sweetheart.. Did you just… swallowed all of my cum??” He questions you shockingly, knowing you usually don’t like the taste of cum or swallowing it as a matter of fact. You wiped your mouth and opened to show him that every drop of his seed that was released was vacuumed down your throat. Before rising from the floor, you slide down your panties and kick them off to the side. Talk about dinner, you were his dinner for tonight.

“Slide it in babe, it’s wet and ready for you..” you were more than ready to take his big cock as you stand, leaning against the counter. You spread your dripping cunt for all of him to see. You knew that it’s gonna sting a bit to adjust to his size, but you didn’t care. Again, he carried you up upon the cold kitchen counter and parted your legs open like the Red Sea. Peppering you with kisses, he slips a finger in and starts off at a slow bearable pace. When his lips reach towards your collarbone, he looks at your expressions and adds another finger in with a slight snicker due to how adorable you look right now. Finding your sweet spot, he starts teasing and going at it. Curling his fingers in and out, making you hold onto his broad shoulder, letting out your sweet moans he missed hearing.

“Loosen up for me if you think you can handle my cock. It’s gotten much harder thinking about you for days on end. You know.. jerking off to the thought of you alone doesn’t help very much..” he mutters along your skin leaving his warm embrace through his breath. You help him take off your short silk dress, leaving you completely naked and bare on the chilling countertop. His eyes gazed at your perky nipples and your subtle smooth skin. He leaves his marks on places that clothing can hide knowing you have work the next day. Seeing you squirm so much, he decides to bind your hands together using his tie he loosened earlier. It was tight, but not to the point where it’s gonna hurt or leave a mark on you. You can’t help but become a moaning mess under his warm touch. Your whines came to a halt when you pushed away his arm, stopping him from fingering you when signaled him to stop.

“What’s wrong sweetheart?” He looked at you with a slight worried expression carried with his tired eyes which shook in concerned. He backed away, giving you some room waiting for you to explain your disturbance.

“I can’t wait anymore, please just put it in…” You put your tied hands over his head and drewhim in closer to your body, leaving his arms to lie at the sides of your hips. At this point you’re begging for his cock, you don’t care if it’ll hurt. You just need him in you.

“Ha.. don’t complain when I start moving” he let out a sly smirk. He rips the glasses off his face and throws them on the counter. Lining himself up at your entrance his cock was more than just immersed in your juices. And there was that one massive thrust of his that made your toes curl up from the impact. His whole cock was fully inside you with one full push making you feel so full. He started moving at a slow bearable pace that built up.

“A-Aah! Baby your cock feels so good!!” You can’t help but shout about how his cock makes you feel every time he’s in you. His quickening pace makes you throw your head back every time, mixing in the stinging pain and pleasure from adjusting. His grunts mixing in with your moans, the sounds bouncing off the walls alone had you screaming in pleasure. Oh how you longed for this man’s length to be within you.

His pace starting to roughen sent you through a loop when he flipped you around with your back facing him, your right leg being propped up on the counter. At this point he was gonna drill a hole into your stomach. Hitting that one spot you enjoyed so much with all his power, he used your strapped hands behind your back as support.

“Fuuck.. sweetheart I can go all night. I-I want to cover you in my cum. I want to make.. you the mother of my future children,” he managed to mumble into your ear amongst the sound of skin to skin slapping and wet squelching noises your pussy made whenever he went in and out of you. His cock twitches inside you, ready to burst and coat the insides of your cunt his shade of white.

“D-Do it then. Cum in me.. I’m yours.. this is your pussy a-ah..!” you murmured in between moans, brain almost to the point where you can’t think straight while looking back at him. Those were the words he needed to hear before unleashing his white fluid in you, gushing when he pulled out. You let out a whimper when he pulled out, feeling empty without him to fill in that void in you. Turning to look at him with a somewhat disappointed face.

“Don’t worry, I’m not done with you yet. Overall, you said your pussy belongs to me.. right?” he breathed out, his mouth curving into a slight smile as he watched his cum start to seep out. He takes off his dress shirt, exposing his chiseled figure puffing in and out profusely. He undoes his necktie from your wrists and you reach your arms for him as he carries you onto his cock. The strength he still has to keep going, especially in this position, caught you a bit surprised. Let’s just say he wasn’t tired as he seemed to appear. That was, until he started heaving you up and down in his cock which was rimmed with your fluid and his cum mixed together making loud wet sounds. Your nails pressed into his shoulder blades creating crescent shapes into his skin. This position had you gagged. It was hitting every deep sensitive area you had in you. You didn’t know if you can take him in this position any longer,as you were close to finishing on his cock.

Whenever he came, it was either in you, or on you. Seeing you practically sprawled across the kitchen counter, covered and filled by his dripping thick cum was a sight for him. You don’t know how many times he’s made you cum. Nevertheless yo ustopped counting how many rounds you went with him. He wanted to keep going, but you were at your limit as well as for his physical body. He also knew you both couldn’t keep on going, as it was also getting even later the more you fucked.

“H-Ha.. I think dinner’s cold, sweetheart” were the words he said before releasing his last load on your face.

*.༄ GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU, NANAMI KENTO, ZHONGLI, CHILDE, DILUC, KUROO TETSUROU, BOKUTO KOUTARO, AKAASHI KEIJI, MIYA TWINS, OIKAWA TOORU, HAWKS, EREN YEAGER, LEVI ACKERMAN, ARTEM (ALL AGED UP/POST-TIME SKIP), and of course any of your favorite characters!!!

masterlist here

[wutheringcaterpillar]

Hey! I’m wondering if you’d be willing to write a fic where Thomas is intending for John to marry Y/N to unite the Lees and the Shelbys like the show, but when he sees her the first time, he changes his mind on John marrying her. Instead he marries her

Warnings: smut, loss of virginity, altered storyline, Tommy’s a sweety, p in v , oral if you blink, altered storyline, name calling, slight misogyny

thank you for the request, hope you enjoy!

Tommy and John were sat awaiting your arrival, expecting you any moment now. John went on and on about how you were back in grade school, none of that really mattering to Tommy in the slightest.

The door opened, a brisk wind rolling in, pushing your hair in front of your face, your innocent vanilla scent flowing into the booth, as you flipped your hair behind your shoulder.

Tommy shifted uncomfortably at your beauty and grace. Your tone was soft, and a smile as bright as the sun, he couldn’t allow his brother to marry you, not with a face like that. 

Dropping your bag near the booth, Tommy couldn’t take his eyes off of you, helping you pick up your belongings from the floor. When you thanked the man for helping, you locked eyes with him, an immediate attraction being drawn to you from those crystal blue eyes.

“Thomas Shelby, pleasure to meet you.” When the handsome, intimidating man spoke, a thrill of attraction and desire rushed through your veins like a hurricane, time suddenly seemed to be irrelevant, along with the man you were arranged to marry.

“Y/N L/N. Likewise.” He motioned for you to sit, offering one of the many cigarettes he carried in his suit. When you declined, mentioning how you don’t smoke Tommy was stunned and intrigued. 

Everyone smoked in the garrison, it was hard to find a woman that didn’t. 

Taking your seat beside John, you straightened your back, folding your hands gracefully, fully prepared for any questions that may come your way.

John smirked, glancing down at the clear cleavage, your bra barelt holdimg in you breasts, he nodded toward Tommy to take a glance but he’d never disrespect a woman in that manner. He simply began conversation, asking where you lived, went to school, even personal things such as a family matters. He was a fair man, offering the same respect back, his voice brooding but in a good, hospitable way.

“John, do you mind if I take lovely Y/N here to the bar and make her a drink.” John hadn’t barely heard Tommy speak as he was joking around with Finn. Simply waving you both off, they chattered on, making you contemplate on whether or not John was fit to be a husband.

Tommy noticed the quizzical expression on across your face, intending to turn that frown into a smile. 

“What’s it going to be my dear? Whiskey? Gin? No, something is telling me you are a rum and coke girl?” His eyebrows raised, furrowing together in curiosity with the expectation and hopefulness that he was right. You couldn’t contain the rose petal blush paint your cheeks, glancing down in embarassment and moving a wild strand of hair behind your ear.

“How’d you know?”

“Just a lucky guess. Some say I’ve been gifted with the ability to read people. You seem like a smart girl Y/N, what type of hobbies do you indulge in, surely everyone has at least one.” Settling your purse down, you watched as he worked effortlessly behind the bar, topping off you drink with a whip cream which surprised you, most people found it odd, never having seen anyone do so yourself.

“Oh I- I enjoy reading, and occasionally shopping, a girl can never have too many clothes.” Tommy chuckled, staying behind the bar and lighting a cigarette, in that moment he knew you were too good for John. He wasn’t a saint himself but he wad far more mature and caring compared to his little, reckless brother.

“Well from my perception, you look very endearing, and well, stop me if this is too much but you’re quite beautiful Y/N, my brother’s very lucky to have you.” You waved him off, giggling like a school girl but Tommy never took his eyes off of you, entranced by your illuminating smile, and adorable laugh. There was a silence for a moment when you realized that perhaps Tommy felt the same way you were feeling. The goosebumps on your skin, the heart beat between your thighs, trying to evade the temptation, the profound want to be in bed with that ever charming smile, and angelic blue eyes, and those lips, those plump, pale lips that you wanted to kiss right there.

How was this powerful man already under your skin in such a small amount of time, was it the way he took interest in your life? The way his subtle gaze seemingly never broke away from you? Or perhaps his way of words, speaking with finesse and confidence, never once stuttering.

John approached the bar breaking the evident friction between you two. Your smile faded when he wrapped his arm behind your shoulders, pulling you in closely to his body heat.

“How’s everything love? He isn’t scaring you is he?” You shook your head no, staying quiet and biting your lip attempting to hold back from laughing when Tommy raised his eyebrows challengingly, playfully as if he wasn’t making you more comfortable than his brother. 

“Alright well, Arthur and I are going to go to a few pubs, see what kind of trouble we can get into tonight before the big night, if you know what I mean Tommy.” He winked at his older brother who didn’t seem the least bit impressed. Had he really just said that right in front of you? Reassuring you’d be alright here and be heading home in a little bit, Johnny bid you both goodbye, finishing off your rum and coke on his way out. How rude.

Scoffing, Tommy made you a new drink.

“You’ll have to allow me to apologize for my brother he can be quite- What’s the word I’m looking for? Oblivious sometimes.” A wave of relief washed over you when you were alone with Tommy once more, even the patrons in the bar clearing out for the night.

The palpable tension in the room magnetized when his charismatic eyes remained on you, the heat building beatween your legs, but you weren’t going to be the one to just come out and say it. Like Tommy always did best, he took the initiative, clearing the silence.

“Do you want to fuck me, Y/N?” He raised his eyebrows expectedly, his eyes searing into your soul as he handed you your drink, his fingers grazing over the softness of your fingers.

Stunned by his question, you couldn’t deny the electric current of desire running through your veins. Your eyes searched one another in question, the intensity of his dominance protruding you very being.

“I-I suppose I would but- I must inform you I’ve never really-“

“There’s no need to fret Y/N. I’ll go slow, I wish to spend as much time with you as I can, if you’ll have me that is.” Were you really about to do this? This wasn’t the girl that you were but Tommy was so enticing, and held a clear attraction toward you. You’ve heard many stories of Thomas Shelby, yet you found yourself following him out to the car as he held an umbrella over you, not looking back once.

As soon as the bedroom door closed his lips were on you as he hoisted you up onto the dresser. Hands caressing your bare thighs while your legs wrapped around his torso, melting into his fiery touch. He tasted of whiskey and mint, smelling of a subtle yet timberwood like scent. Your tongues collided with one another in disparity, your nightgown strap sliding down carelessly in the process. 

“You are an enchantress, my darling.” You unbuttoned his shirt, pushing yourself up as you walked one another still embraced toward the bed.

Unclasping your bra, Tommy relished in that sight of your bare, nude breasts. They were everything he had imagined, soft, rounded, delectable enough that he couldn’t waste another moment with having his lips on your enlarged nipples. Sucking the sensitive skin, lapping his tongue repeatedly as you moaned from the touch.

“Feels good Tommy. I need more. Please.” Begging already? You felt pathetic but didn’t care and neither did he when he pulled you onto the bed.

“Your wish is my command, love.” He layed you down gently on the white sheets, your hands skimming his muscular chest as he fumbled hastily to take his shirt off before diving back into your lips with a deep desire. 

His eyes never left you, drawn into the perfection of your skin, the way your nude body gleamed poetically beneath him in the dim light. 

“Are you sure you want to do this? I don’t want to-“

“Yes. Yes I’m sure I don’t want to waste another minute, I need you in me Tommy.” That was all the reassurance he needed to hear. When he undid his belt and tugged his pants down his member popped up, perky and ready. He was long, and rather wide, partially shaven, but that didn’t matter to you. Tommy could see the nervous worry in your eyes when they landed on his cock, but he needed you to understand he wasn’t one to rush such a big, personal decision.

Laying his hand caringly on your cheek, he looked into your eyes, demanding your attention so you knew he wasn’t kidding.

“I know it may seem a bit frightening but I assure you, we go at your pace. If you want me to stop tell me, okay?” You nodded, and then again when he motioned toward your white laced panties. When he slid them down your legs, you turned your head in embarrassment, always holding a tremendous insecurity for your appearance downstairs. Tommy on the other was blown away at the sight of your untouched pussy. 

“May I?” You nodded for him to continue, fully trusting him. His tongue glided between your wet lips, devouring your sweet rose, taking you by surprise and shedding the insecurity from your skin. “You have nothing to be ashamed of love. It’s perfect, and tastes exquisite.” You blushed as he continued to eat you, waiting for your nectar to slowly seep out, for him to start prepping you. When his finger entered you there was a slight discomfort, you’d never gone down there yourself but Tommy took his time and focused on your body language. After a few moments he entered a second finger, your tight walls surrounding his digits, coating them with your slick. There was a slight pleasurable feeling from feeling so full. He fingered you for a few minutes until he deemed you ready.

“Are you ready love?” You nodded that i was okay, and he kissed you once more reassuringly. He was slow upon entering, his cock aligned with your gaping, eager hole, the head resting there for a few seconds so you were aware of what was to come. He slowly pushed his head in, protruding your virgin walls, inch by inch. He stopped halfway in when you winced in pain, wanting to give you time to adjust.

“Focus on my voice. The pain will dissipate soon, tell me when you want me to go further.” After a few seconds, you relaxed your muscles, nodding for him to continue. When he was all the way in there was a sharp shot of pain from being stretched from his cock and your cherry now being popped.

Your eye fluttered close as he slowly pumped in and out of you tenderly, taking his time until you were comfortable for him to fasten his pace. The pain slowly subsiding as your inner walls calmed. 

“Faster.” When you spoke it was but a whisper, Tommy understood. His shaft fucked into you quickly, the head of his cock slamming into your cervix with each thrust.

“Fuck Tommy! More… Oh fuck.” Your boobs jiggled with each powerful thrust, but you needed to be closer somehow. Sitting up and you straddled his lap never breaking from the bonding of his cock.

Your hands grazed over the muscular tone of his back, wanting, needing to be closer to him. He nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his lips curling over the wamrth of your bare skin, tongue twirling as he kissed you with profound passion. You continued to ride his cock, hips rotating and grinding, until an unexplainable, euphoric feeling began to build in your pussy. 

Tommy knew what was coming and held you close to him, wanting you to know he was right there, riding your orgasm out with you. Holding you caringly and rubbing soothing circles into your back as you crumbled and came undone with one another. After a moment, you lifted your head in a fucked out melody, running your thumb down his bottom lip and staring into his sapphire eyes. In that moment Tommy didn’t know what came over him, but he knew what had to be said. He couldn’t let you go.

“Marry me.” 

“What?” You were stunned by his statement but stayed folded against him lazily, your knees to weak to move from out of his lap.

“What about John?”

“He’ll understand. He will, but who would I be as a man be to fuck you and let a pretty girl like you fall from my hands. I can be a good husband if you give me the chance.” As your breathing slowed down, Tommy’s seed flowed from your deflowered pussy, wetting his thigh making you laugh and apologize before giving him answer but it didn’t take you long to think.

“I will marry you, I just ask we let John down gently. I don’t want to be the cause of his pain.” At that moment the door flew open, Tommy was quick to pick the comforter up from the floor and shield your nude body. He was ready to start yelling until he recognized the man standing in the door to be his brother.

“What the fuck is going on here? That’s my fucking wife to be!” John went to rip the blanket from you in a furious rage but Tommy was faster, standing up and pushing his brother back out into the hallway, nothing but a sheet around his waist hiding his cock. John could be heard screaming obscenities, mostly pointed at you as Tommy pushed him into another room.

“She’s a fucking whore! A disgusting tramp who knows no fucking boundaries! And you! You fucked my girl Tommy! You can’t just steal my bride to be. How fucked is that! No- How fucked is it that the people closest to you are the ones who take the knife and twist in your fucking back!” Tommy pulled open a drawer, lighting a cigarette and remaining calm as John continued to yell at him.

“You can have the fucking cunt! Go ahead, see what I care!” 

“She wasn’t right for you Johnny. Not with a face like that. Don’t take it personal eh? You’ll marry someone else instead. Besides knowing you as well as I do, you’ll be on to the next one in no time won’t you Johnny boy?” John rolled his eyes, scrunching his nose and closing his fists in anger before he punched a hole in the drywall. Tommy merely stood by the window, not feeling the least bit sorry as he knew his brother and he knew him well. Within a week he’d be passed it, forgotten about you and the betrayal of your short lived relationship. The only thing on Tommy’s mind was returning to you, surely John’s words had upset you immensely.

~

When the big day finally arrived, it was like a scene out of the movies. The reception was held in the backyard, the aisle covered in pebbles, white rose flowered bushes running down the perimeter of the wooden benches, the sun setting poetically behind the silver laced altar. 

Friends and families gathered round, coming together for your day since Tommy may or may not have threatened some to be there for you, but he wasn’t going to tell you that. Now here you were seated with Ada while she was finishing up your makeup, and hair. 

“What do you suppose the boys are doing right now?” Ada chuckled, whimsically, looking at her work in the mirror, trying to lighten the nerves you were feeling, but that question alone seemed to make you more anxious.

“Getting a long I hope. I do feel sorry for John, I just hope he can forgive us. We didn’t mean to hurt him.” Ada remained friendly, never entering the crossfire of her brother unless absolutely necessary. She could only give you advice, and be there as not a friend but a sister should.

~

Tommy was suited in his formal attire, looking out all the people chatting near the garden when there was a knock at the door.

“Come in.” John entered the room, a delicate expression running over his face, showing he wasn’t here to cause any harm. Tommy nodded toward the desk, sitting in his seat and pouring his brother a glass of whiskey. 

“You probably need this more than me.” John chuckled sincerely, not knowing how to start this conversation. Tommy could tell he was uncomfortable, a look of guilt just barely visible in his eyes. Shaking his head, he joined his hands together, motioning toward the ring the bearer still had to come and retreive.

Upon opening the velvet box, John was in shock, the dazzling rock shimmering in the sunlight. The ring itself had to of been far more than John’s own personal cut from the company, which told him Tommy must have taken the time to close deals and make investments. In that moment he understood Tommy cared for you more than he ever did, he would have never spent that amount of money on you, or anyone for that matter. 

“She likes diamonds you know?” John shook his head indeed not knowing that small fact about you because he never took the time. He never had any interest or care to ask, to really get to know you. Closing the box, he frowned, reminiscing back to the fight just last week he had with you both. He was ashamed, and knew he could have handled it better.

“I came to apologize Tom. I acted immaturely and I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said those terrible things. You guys look happy, she chose the right man.” Tommy chuckled, lighting a cigarette and tossing one to John.

“All is forgiven brother but I’m not the one that requires an apology. You can be a good man John, I believe that I do. But with the right woman.” Tommy left it at that, believing in his brother that he would speak with you before the wedding was to begin. John nodded understandingly, knowing Tommy was right, leaving no room for him to argue. All this hatred, anger, where were these emotions getting him? No where.

Glancing down at his watch, he bid Tommy goodbye, making his way to your dressing room. 

-

A knock at the door startled you as you were putting on your heels, worried it was Tommy you sent Ada to the door. “Who is it?”

“It’s John.” Ada turned to face you for answer. When you nodded she opened the door and excused herself from the room.

“Wow.” John was impressed with the workings of Ada, you looked truly breath taking, nothing he’s ever seen before in a woman. Smiling sweetly, you motioned for him to sit.

He twiddled his thumbs, nervously searching for the right words, but he didn’t really know where to start, so he went with the first thought in his mind.

“I’m sorry. I was out of my fucking head speaking about you like that. My brother, he’s a good man, the better man. Besides we never really had a connection did we?” You shook your head no in agreement, thankful John came to apologize, but you also shared your feelings of how you and Tommy should have just sat down with him before anything happened. He accepted your apology, but noticed you were due outside in five minutes. Bidding you farewell, he wished you luck and told you, you’d make a great wife and Tommy is lucky to have you, he needed you.

Ada knocked on the door, informing you it was time. Taking a deep breath you met your father at the patio door, a mixture of happiness and excitement protruding your ever bone.

Family and friends stood up, your mother crying from how beautiful and elegant you appeared. When you reached the alter, a singular tear swam down Tommy’s cheek as he smiled widely when he removed your vail. You were stunning, breathtaking, everything he’s ever dreamed about. John stood by his side as a groomsmen, happy to finally see his older brother smile for once. As the vows were exchanged. The ring beamed with an exquisite beauty, your eyes brimming with tears when Tommy placed the expensive jewelry on your finger, claiming you as his wife. 

“Tommy it’s beautiful.” You were hoping and praying your makeup wasn’t running down your cheeks. As vows were exchanged, the man motioned that it was time to kiss the bride. Tommy rested his hands on your cheeks, time stopping when he placed his lips on yours as the man announced you to be Mrs. Tommy Shelby.

[pretzel-box]

woe, Reverse AU angst be upon ye (not necessarily a request, just a thought i had, but if anything strikes feel free to go ham :3 i also like to think about this with the og universe because i love feeling emotional pain 🧘🏾)

but instead of the reader having a classified file for themselves (& having it for sale), there are videotapes (or maybe different colored pendrives? CDs work too, i guess!!) scattered across the abandoned offices, and at first Sebastian isn't sure what to do with them, but then he meets p.ai.nter and they recognize those immediately, questioning why Sebastian is carrying that stuff with him in a concerned tone, and Sebastian just stares at the computer like, "??? okay, what's up with it?"

p.ai.nter is hesitant to show him what those hide at first, but eventually agrees to let him watch, then warns him that he is not going to like any second of it

Sebastian gets comfortable in front of the screen but is only greeted with an extremely heartbreaking scene– it's (now an experiment) reader visibly shaking as they stare in horror at their new body, unable to speak in any way while sobbing and whimpering, hugging themselves (or maybe their tail? guess it depends on the way readers want to look) and wondering what they had done to deserve this outcome, to be stripped of their humanity

now i personally like to think that the reader struggling to speak is something that comes with their body being altered, like everything is big so they're not used to any of it so really all they can do is cry and struggle to say a coherent sentence because it sounds like a garbled mess, but that is also me wanting to add salt to the wound because this is supposed to be sad ooooo ⚡⚡

anyway, at the end of it all (cause there was more than one video, a whole documentary on reader and the experiments done on them), Sebastian is left feeling too many emotions and he doesn't even know when he started crying but he is (since the reader he knows now is different from the one he just saw in the videos but deep down it hurts so much because that is the same person in different years of their life) and p.ai.nter isn't sure how to comfort him so they keep apologizing till Sebastian finally chooses to leave

next time he stops by reader's shop he can't even bring himself to stare at them properly because he's afraid he'll start bawling his eyes out, meanwhile, reader is just staring at him like ":3? no snarky comments or banter today wow what happened to him" unaware that he has seen The Horrors

that's all thanks for coming to my tedtalk

Authors Note: This is inspired by this request but not 1:1 written like it. This is pure angst and some gore. READ AT OWN RISK.

Tags: GORE, Angst, Reversed AU, mentions of syringes, drugs and operations.

Words: 2,7k

The sound of a click filled the room, followed by the small red light blinking on the video camera, indicating it was recording. Sebastian glanced at you with irritation as you held the camera—a little relic you'd scavenged from a deeper part of the facility—not too long ago. He shoved his hands deeper into the pockets of the leather jacket you had once sold him.

"And we are live!~ Say hello to the viewers, Seb!" you teased, shoving the camera playfully in his face. He immediately pushed it away with his hand, his scowl deepening.

"I get it, I get it," he grumbled, pointing at the camera with a mock glare. "You found a new toy. Now what? You planning to make a movie or something?"

You shot him a sharp look, the room growing colder as if you were subtly irritated by his comment. Sebastian could sense he'd hit a nerve, a rare feat considering your usual carefree attitude. But then, unexpectedly, you burst out laughing, clutching your stomach and flashing him the signature grin that always greeted him when he came to your shop.

"I’ve already starred in plenty,” you replied cryptically, your words hanging in the air with an eerie undertone. Sebastian opened his mouth to ask what you meant, but you cut him off with another sly comment. “Maybe you’re the next big star, Solace.”

After leaving your shop, Sebastian wandered through the halls of the Hadal Blackside facility, the encounter with you replaying in his mind. He’d grown to enjoy your company—your banter, your teasing, the way you challenged him. But today, something about your behavior felt off. Beneath the jokes and sarcasm, there was something else—something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. And that unsettled him like an itch he couldn’t scratch.

How could he be in a relationship with someone so different, so complex? You were like a puzzle with missing pieces, a riddle that refused to be solved. The more he thought about it, the more it nagged at him. His legs carried him on autopilot through the winding corridors, his mind consumed by thoughts of you.

It wasn’t until he found himself in the office segment of the building that he realized he’d been walking without really paying attention. His hand hovered over the keycard reader, and it struck him that he hadn’t even looked for the blue plastic card he needed to get through the next door. The desk was a mess of papers, ink, and tapes.

His eyes fell on an old, unlabeled tape, the kind they'd used for surveillance back in the day. Scrawled on it in red ink was a series of numbers: *Z-13.* The sight of it piqued his curiosity, a nagging feeling that it was significant. Without thinking, he slipped it into his pocket. He’d find a way to watch it later.

Sebastian rummaged through countless drawers, lockers, and cabinets, searching for the keycard, but instead, he kept finding more of those mysterious tapes. Each one seemed older than the last, covered in dust and marked with strange codes.

His practical side told him he should probably look through all of them, not just the one he had picked up. So, he gathered them into a makeshift box he'd found lying around and continued his search for the keycard, all the while wondering what secrets these tapes might hold—and what they had to do with you. He know the Name Z-13 was related to you.

If there was anything he knew for sure, it was that you were full of surprises. And maybe, just maybe, these tapes would help him understand you a little better.

By pure coincidence, Sebastian ran into P.AI.nter a while later as he continued through the seemingly endless corridors of the facility, taking casual steps despite the weight of the wonky box filled with random tapes he was carrying. The AI's sketched face flickered to life, its eyes narrowing with a curious gaze. "Quite the haul today, Sebastian," it remarked, its voice tinged with artificial cheerfulness. "Planning to deliver all of that to our trusty shopkeeper?"

Sebastian grunted in response, setting the box down on the floor with a thud. He raised his hands above his head, stretching to relieve the ache that had settled in his shoulders from lugging the heavy box around. "Can you play them?" he asked, his voice a mix of curiosity and exhaustion. It was a simple question, and he knew the answer even as he asked it—of course P.AI.nter could play a few tapes.

But as soon as the question left his lips, the room fell into an uneasy silence. P.AI.nter’s usual cheerful demeanor seemed to shift, its sketched form glitching for a moment as if processing something more than just data. The AI stared at Sebastian and the tapes, an uncharacteristic hesitation creeping into its expression.

"It's just a tape, Sebastian," P.AI.nter finally replied, its voice flat, devoid of its usual light-heartedness. There was something in the way it spoke—something guarded, almost cautious—that only fueled Sebastian's curiosity further. The AI’s reluctance was like gasoline on a fire.

“A tape I want to watch,” Sebastian shot back, his patience wearing thin. He was tired of the evasiveness, the constant roadblocks whenever he sought answers. He moved with purpose, selecting one of the tapes and sliding it into the nearest recorder, right next to P.AI.nter’s screen.

“I have to warn you, Sebastian,” P.AI.nter said, its tone shifting to something closer to pleading. The air between them grew heavy, the tension thickening as the tape began to whirl in the machine. Sebastian paused, the gravity of the AI's words weighing on him.

"You won’t like any second of it," P.AI.nter added, its voice barely more than a whisper. There was a finality in its tone, a sense of foreboding that hung in the air like a storm about to break. The familiar face of his AI friend got replaced by some white noise and then a black screen.

Sebastian’s heart pounded in his chest as he watched the screen flicker to life, unsure of what he was about to see but certain of one thing: whatever was on these tapes, it was something the facility—and P.AI.nter—wanted to keep hidden.

“Hellooo! I'm one of the new researchers here at the Hadal Blackside. I'm recording Tape Nr. XXXX in Containment Cell XXXX. Wish me luck!”

Sebastian watched as a cheerful person appeared on the screen, holding a camera up to their face. Excitement radiated from their eyes, and despite the poor quality of the footage, their energy was infectious. Some of the information on the screen glitched out, redacting key details as if the tape had deliberately scrambled those moments, keeping certain things obscured.

The person on the screen shifted their stance, and the camera followed their movement. “This is a video for my friend who was super excited to hear about my job. I totally stole the camera for this, so shhh, we can't get caught,” they whispered conspiratorially, a playful grin spreading across their face. There was something unsettling about their carefree demeanor, yet Sebastian couldn't help but feel a small flicker of amusement. The tape felt like a low-quality YouTube vlog, reminiscent of simpler times, with this familiar-looking worker goofing off for the amusement of a friend.

“They told me this is super secret stuff,” the voice continued, the lens panning around the containment cell. “But I just have to show you this.”

The video abruptly cut to another segment, the view shifting to reveal a massive anglerfish-like entity lurking behind an enormous glass wall. The waters it swam in were inky black, like thick oil, giving the creature an unsettling and eerie aura as it moved in the dark liquid.

“Isn't it cool?” the person behind the camera asked with an almost childlike wonder, pressing their flat hand against the glass. “They’re hiding this here! They do some voodoo fish shit in this facility. Even the human centipede would turn pale in envy.”

Sebastian froze as he watched the footage. The creature behind the glass was terrifying—a monstrous anglerfish, its grotesque form barely discernible in the murky waters. It was an unsettling sight, made even more disturbing by the fact that this reckless researcher was standing mere inches from one of the most dangerous entities imaginable, their tone light and casual as if they were commenting on the weather.

A chill ran down Sebastian’s spine as he continued to watch the video, his breath caught in his throat. The footage shifted again, but the image of the monstrous fish remained burned into his mind. His gut twisted with unease. What was this person thinking, standing so close to something so deadly? And why did they seem so familiar?

As the old tape continued to play, the weight of the discovery settled on Sebastian’s shoulders like a heavy boulder. Whatever secrets were buried in these tapes, he was certain they weren’t meant to be uncovered—especially not by him. Yet here he was, staring at a reality that seemed more and more like a nightmare. The things he saw so far in the blackside were not as terrifying as this giant monster that rested behind that glass wall.

The tape ended abruptly, and for a moment, there was only silence. Sebastian’s hands trembled as he reached down to turn the cassette over, the worn edges rough against his fingertips. He knew there were at least four more tapes waiting in the box at his feet, each one a potential gateway to another nightmare. His breath caught in his throat, a cold sweat forming on his brow. Still, his curiosity and a gnawing need for answers compelled him to continue.

With a shaky breath, he pressed the tape back into the player, flipping it to the other side. The screen flickered to life again, this time showing a cold, sterile operating room. Several figures in hazmat suits moved with practiced precision, their faces obscured by masks and goggles. The room was pristine, a stark contrast to the horror Sebastian knew was about to unfold.

“This is Experiment Nr. XXXX,” a calm, clinical voice narrated. “And our newest trial patient, Z-13, who volunteered for their transformation.”

Sebastian’s eyes widened as he recognized the person strapped to the operating chair—the same person from the earlier footage. They were bound tightly, their limbs secured as though they were a dangerous criminal. There was no mistaking the fear and confusion in their eyes, even through the drug-induced haze.

“Z-13 was administered XXXX, XXXX, and XXXX 20 minutes prior to the start of this procedure,” the voice continued with an unsettling detachment. “Their pupils are dilated, and the patient has entered a state of delirium, necessary for the next phase of the experiment.”

The camera zoomed in on the bound figure, their eyes bloodshot and unnaturally wide, darting around the room in a frantic, unfocused search for something familiar. Sebastian felt his stomach churn with a sickening realization—this was no volunteer. This was a person trapped, forced into an unimaginable horror. The idea of volunteering was just another lie, a thin veneer over a darker truth.

Sebastian’s fingers dug into his knees as he watched, his body tense with dread. He knew what was coming next, but the tape did not shy away from the gruesome details. The hours that followed were a blur of pain and suffering, each tape more harrowing than the last. Scenes of torn flesh and oily blood filled the screen, detached limbs falling to the sterile floor with sickening thuds. Each cut, each scream was more unbearable than the last. And those eyes—those haunted, slowly awakening eyes—followed Sebastian throughout each frame, pleading silently for mercy.

With each passing minute, it became painfully clear that the drugs were losing its effectiveness and the person that was tied to the chair gained the ability to feel every single thing that happened there. The delirium ended and the terror began.

The scream tore through the speakers with such intensity that Sebastian flinched. It wasn’t just a scream—it was a raw, visceral sound, a guttural cry filled with a mix of agony, fear, and desperation. It was a sound so primal that it clawed its way into his very bones, settling there with an uncomfortable weight. It was the worst thing he had heard in ages. Every nerve in his body screamed in empathy for the poor soul on the screen, the person whose existence had been reduced to nothing but a vessel for pain.

“Silence them,” a cold, emotionless voice commanded from off-screen.

Almost immediately, a set of cruel, metal clamps were forcefully shoved into the patient's mouth, prying it open with a brutality that made Sebastian wince. These were the kind of instruments used for people with severe jaw fractures, designed to immobilize and inflict pain to prevent further injury. But here, they were used as a tool of torture, a means to quiet the suffering that had become too loud for the facility’s sterile walls. The rough, unyielding metal dug into their flesh, tearing into the soft tissue of their mouth, blood trickling down their chin. The sight was gruesome, and Sebastian could feel his stomach twist with disgust.

The person’s screams were abruptly cut off, replaced by a wet, choking gurgle. They were left to suffer in silence, their jaw now clamped shut, the metal rods cruelly keeping it from moving even a fraction. Tears streamed down their face, their eyes wide with terror and pain, every muscle in their body taut with agony.

And just when Sebastian thought it couldn’t possibly get any worse, the camera shifted. The surgeon, clad in a sterile suit that seemed to mock the very concept of humanity, moved over the patient's eyes. Those eyes—once filled with life, now wide with shock, pain, and a frantic, animalistic fear—darted around in sheer terror. They were crying frantically, tears mingling with the blood on their face.

“We will now begin our final part,” the disembodied voice continued with a chilling detachment. “Removal of the natural human eyes to replace them with XXXX using XXXX and XXXX. The expected results will lead to an ability to see underwater.”

Sebastian’s breath caught in his throat as he watched a gloved hand reach for a long, thin needle, the metal glinting ominously under the harsh, fluorescent lights. The needle was positioned directly over the patient's eye, the sharp tip hovering just above the delicate orb. Their wide, terrified gaze seemed to plead with the unseen surgeons, with the camera, with anyone who might be watching—to stop, to help, to do something.

But there was no help. There was no mercy.

The screen flickered for a moment, and then, mercifully, the tape cut to black. The room was plunged into darkness, the only sound the low hum of the equipment around him. Sebastian sat frozen, his heart pounding in his chest, his mind racing with the horrific images he had just witnessed. His hands were clenched so tightly that his knuckles were white, the tension radiating through his entire body.

He was left alone in the darkness, his thoughts a chaotic whirlwind. The horror of what he had seen, of what had been done to someone who had likely never asked for any of this, crashed over him.

Then P.AI.nters face greeted him on the screen.

“They first drugged them, then they put in a row of ocean animal dna into their body.”

He was pointing out the steps that the surgeons did in the tape.

“They cut off their fingers, waiting for them to grow back. They took of the part from the knees to the feet…and then they noticed that it wasn't enough.”

Sebastian raised his hands, to put them over his ears.

“They lost both their healthy legs. Next was their ears, they cut it off. And then…they silenced them by closing their jaw.”

He could still hear P.AI.nter.

“And then they lost their eyes. The transformation from the human self to…the thing they are now…took 7 weeks. They attached and deattached plenty of stuff on them.”

For a moment he felt the urge to shut P.AI.nter off for good.

“Our shopkeeper went through much, don't you think?”

A loud sound filled the room and then there was darkness.

[xqueen-of-disasterx]

Maybe one with bunny!hyrbid!reader and Natasha “adopts” her and just fucks the shit out of her with her strap (or her real cock if you prefer to write that)

Run Rabbit Run

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: fem!bunny!hybrid!reader x owner!Nat

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐲: Natasha can’t help but grant her bunny all her little wishes

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, dom!Nat, sub!reader, age gap (legal), ownership, size kink, strap on, artificial cum, slight breeding kink, pillow humping, slight somno, masturbation, crying during it,

!Disclaimer English is not my first language so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors. This story is completely fictional. I do not own these characters!

𝐌.𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

What to do with all the money you make as an Avenger? That was a question Natasha had ask herself more times than she could count. Sure currently was her monthly pay check and all the money she made from interviews and social media was rotting away in her bank account, because she was never a fan of making herself gifts nor did she have time for it. But now with Easter just around the corner the Russian decided to not only do something against her overload on money but also against her loneliness.

She wanted a hybrid, not just some brainless pet but something that could actually understand her. The concept of owing a hybrid wasn't new of course it had been around for years, back in the days they actually hunted them from nature but nowadays there was no need after they got a hang of how to domesticate such a creature.

Natasha stepped foot in one of the only places in the whole of New York who sold these rare creatures- Tony had recommended it to her after once more bragging about his large collection. The over friendly employee showed her the different enclosures all while the employee tried to keep it together- after all you didn't see an Avenger daily not even when working for a prestigious company like she did.

Natasha first visited the cat hybrids, cute but too stubborn, then the dogs, too dependent, foxes were too clever for her taste though especially the polar foxes caught her eyes. Bears and any other large animals would be too much work and needed too much space. The right pick was right on her nose she wanted to get herself a bunny.

Standing in front of the enclosure which held you and a few of your companions Natasha and the employee stood, her gaze never leaving your body. You didn't alter much from a normal human, except for the fluffy bunny ears, little tail and over all smaller build you looked like any other girl. You were going to cost her a hefty amount of hard earned money but for your rare breed, Natasha couldn't care less about that in the moment. The way you stat there so carelessly reading some book which laid in her lap, made you different in her eyes more intelligent maybe? She wanted connection and not some braindead doll after all.

"The one in the pink collar… is she still to have?" Natasha asked the employee you gave her a quick nod. "Yes, she hasn't been here for long though the ones like her normally get adopted quite quickly." Nat only hummed in approval she couldn't wait to have you in her home. "I'll have her in a private kennel"

Meeting a potential owner made you nervous of course you had been trained to and prepared on how to act in such a situation, how to appeal to any potential owner - though you secretly hoped for a female buyer. You tried your best to hide your shy nature from the older woman who awaited you but Natasha found it charming how your, compared to your body, large floppy bunny ears hang low but twitched up when she spoke to you in a gentle manner.

Natasha approached the situation with a calm demeanour- she knew about the shy nature of a bunny like you. As soon as you were comfortable enough to approach her she started to pet over your smaller head with careful hands- and you loved it. By the end of your get to know each other you sat on the redhead's lap clinging on to her. But you weren't parted for long Natasha signed all the paperwork the same day and at the start of the next week you were able to move in with her.

She had given you a nice room, with many books, TV and games to entrain yourself with while she would be working. You came with the clothes from the centre, a basic white bluse, white skirt everything in white , like any other hybrid except for your coloured coded collar which adored your neck so the employees had an easier time keeping hybrids a part. Natasha started to take great joy in precisely choosing each outfit for you. Price didn't matter to Natasha, if she found something to be cute she bought it for you and Nat was known for expensive taste. Sooner or later your closet was fuller than hers, filled to the brim with shorts, blouses, floral summer dresses anything which had a playful feel to it.

Natasha was a busy woman though, often being away for days at a time, she normally made up with expensive gifts and extensive cuddling for her little bunny girl. But that hardly was enough to satisfy your need to be close to the older woman, not to mention that you were worried sick about your owner once you had found out that she wasn't a simple business woman but an avenger.

Natasha came home at around 3 AM after a long mission in Europe the jet lag and sleep deprive was killing her, and since she thought you'd already be asleep at such a late hour- and way past your agreed on bed time, she'd just go to sleep already. As soon as she had stripped to her underwear and her face had it the pillows she was dead asleep, little did she know that you weren't.

Next door you were awake, not only that but you were desperate. This had never happened before yet you immediately knew what it was. You had your first heat, and nothing helped, no toy's from the centre, no playing with yourself, no nothing. You had a pillow under your hips probed up at the seams you humped the pillow like your life depended on it.

You mewled as your already sensitive cunt graced over the edge of the pillow. You were close to cuming but you couldn't bring yourself over the edge. That's when you heard Natasha rummaging through the house you're floppy bunny ears twitching up to detect the source of the noise. You waited patiently in your room trying to find some sleep, maybe Natasha could help you out in the morning. But you could feels your juices sticking to the inside of your thighs.

With small steps you made it into Natasha's bed room tears of frustration already building in your eyes threatening to spill over your blushing cheeks. Carefully you climbed into her bed to find her in a deep slumber laying on her back. You sat down on her on her thigh your pussy making contact with her soft skin.

Slowly you started to rhythmically move it against the limp muscles of her thigh small whimpers falling from your throat in between the sobs of frustration paired with the cries of her name and the tears rolling down your cheek it made a whole picture.

Natasha peaceful face scrunched up in confusion of the sensation when she slowly woke from her slumber she was utterly distraught. Her sweet little bunny humping her thigh like a bitch in heat. With careful hands she stopped your hips and you immediately broke out into a new round of sobs and cries.

"Sheesh" she hushed you petting over over your low hanging ears "You're just in heat bunny, it'll be over soon" She assured you when you pressed your face into her neck. "I want it over now!" You cried out "what about the advice the centre gave you?" She tried but feeling you so desperate and need had an affect on her too.

"Doesn't work" You huffed out "I want you to play with me" Nat was startled by the request, was it morally right for her to sleep with you? It was the main point of criticism surrounding owing a hybrid, but what if not the owner but the hybrid wanted it. "Please" you whined and the assassin's strong will broke right there. "Wait here bunny I'll go get something" You nodded and released Natasha from your grace watching her go.

She came back with a noticeable bulge in her sleep shorts, which upon seeing made your thighs clench together. "It's not going to hurt bunny" She assured and got behind you pulling her shorts down to reveal her, to your body size massive, strap on. She pressed the fat tip against your entrance and your hooded eyes flew open in surprise at the shear size of the toy.

"Natty, it's to big" You mewled out your cotton tail twitching "It's not gonna fit" Natasha scoffed shaking her head as if you had just made an outrageous statement. "I'm gonna make it fit bunny" She pushed forward and your bunny hears flew up in surprise of the stretch. You hands dug into the soft pillow underneath your head as you whimpered in a mic of pain and pleasure.

"Natasha!" You cried as she bottomed you out the stretch being much greater than you could've accomplished with your little fingers. "I'm gonna move now bunny" You nodded and felt her starting with a comfortable rhythm which made the pain turn into pleasure.

By your sweet moans she could tell how much you liked it and fastened her pace to finally give you what you wanted. With deep thrusts she stroked your G spot making you see stars as she too enjoyed the feeling of the strap running against her clit. You mewled out some words she couldn’t make out but took at as a sign of approval for her to keep going.

With both of her hands on your hips she forcefully slammed into your tight heat making sure to not actually hurt you. You arched your back one hand sneaking to your neglected bundle of nerves rubbing it in tight circles. “Fuck are you close?” Natasha asked there was a certain tiredness in her voice still. She clenched down harder on the silicone and mewled out “Yes, please”

“Fuck cum with me” with a few more fast thrusts you came first you’re juicing coating the lower stomach of the black widow. She had a surprise for you when you noticed a thick liquid gushing from the strap into your womb as she came. After having cum herself she pulled out to watch in an awe how the white cum was dripping from your stretched out hole.

After having cleaned you up Natasha could finally rest but not without you resigning on her chest of course. Call it what you wanted for Natasha those feelings of affection were real and of no ill intent she just did whatever you wanted to ensure happiness. With that thought and still cum dripping from your hole both you and Natasha fell asleep.

:)

[moonstruckme]

hi lovely!! i just had the most amazing 7 hrs of my life just scrolling through your page and reading all of your marauders work!! i never even thought about poly!marauders being a possibility until i found your page and i think you’ve altered my brain chemistry forever???

that being said, i would absolutely be so grateful if you could write a gn!reader with poly!marauders at the start of their relationship, where reader’s a much shorter than average person and the boys (who would be so, so tall) have to learn how to walk slower to make sure they don’t leave them behind. i’m so much shorter than my friends and what i do most of the times is run forward in advance and be in front of the group so i don’t get left behind. i’m totally used to it by now, but it’d be nice to have ppl recognize not everyone can go at the same pace, you know? that was so long, so sorry!! and no worries at all if you don’t wanna write it, totally understand! love u so much 🫶🏽🫶🏽

Hi love!! Omg, 7 hours??? Were your eyes okay after that? Sorry it took me so long to get to this, but thanks a ton for requesting and I hope you like it <3

poly!marauders x gn!reader ♡ 644 words

It’s mainly James and Sirius that are the problem. Remus has learned to hold your hand to temper his own long-legged pace, but much like with talking, when James and Sirius get together they start moving at double the speed. 

“Should we call them?” he asks. 

You consider it. “Let’s see how far they get before they notice.” 

A couple more minutes go by, and Remus can barely see the tops of their heads through the crowded sidewalk. 

“Still no idea?” He searches for notes of dejection in your tone, but finds only amusement. 

“None.” 

“Let’s hide.”

He blinks. “What? No, love…” He sighs reluctantly, but lets you tug him into a nearby coffee shop. 

You buy them each a hot chocolate, and it’s five more minutes before Sirius and James go by in the shop’s window, appearing slightly bemused but otherwise unconcerned. You make to go outside, but this time it’s Remus who holds you back. 

“No, let them stew a minute.” 

The next time they come by, the pair looks noticeably more troubled. Remus knocks on the window, and you both wave when they turn to you, gawping. 

The bell jingles as they come inside. 

“Hey, we’ve been looking for you.” James rubs his hands together, blowing warmth into them. Remus feels a tiny bit guilty and takes them between his. He pretends not to see the toothy grin James shoots him. 

“Oh?” Remus makes his tone casual, and you sip at your hot chocolate to hide your smile. “For how long?” 

“Like, five minutes. You just disappeared,” Sirius complains, scooching into your chair so that you have to share it with him. He peers at your hot chocolate, then Remus’. “Oi, you didn’t get any for us?” 

“Interesting,” Remus goes on, ignoring the question, “because we’ve been in here for nearly fifteen.” 

Sirius blinks, and James cocks his head. “Really?” James asks. 

You nudge Remus’ leg playfully under the table. “No,” you tell them, rolling your eyes. “We just wanted to see how long it would take you guys to notice we weren’t behind you.” 

“You could stand to be a little more considerate,” Remus says primly, sipping his hot chocolate. 

“Aw, baby.” Sirius nestles his freezing nose into your cheek, grinning when you squirm away. “Did those little legs of yours separate us?” 

You roll your eyes, but once again Remus comes to your defense. “Their legs aren’t the problem, yours are. Until you two can learn to be considerate of the less…height privileged” —he pretends not to see the aghast look you send him, and goes on with faux dispassion— “there will be no hot chocolate for either of you.” 

Sirius scoffs, but James is nodding slowly, seeming to mull things over. “Sounds fair,” he says. “However, have you considered that we could simply purchase our own hot chocolate?” 

“Not,” says Remus, “on ethical grounds.” 

James pulls his hands kindly from Remus’ grasp, giving him an almost consoling pat on the shoulder. “C’mon, Pads, let’s go order.” Sirius hops up, and James stops by your chair on his way past to drop a kiss on your head. “We’ll try to keep to your speed from now on, lovie. Sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” you say, having forgiven them long before they even knew they wanted to be forgiven. 

“Honestly, who should you really be mad at?” Sirius gives you a conspiratorial look. “Your knight in shining armor over there just called you ‘the less height privileged.’” 

“Don’t let him turn us against each other,” Remus says, reaching across the table to clasp your hand firmly. “It’s how he gets his way.” 

“I know,” you stage-whisper back. Then to Sirius, “Go get your hot chocolate, and I’ll decide who I’m mad at depending on whether there’s a slice of pumpkin bread with you when you come back.” 

He scurries towards the counter.

[sarahghetti]

blood on your lies; m.s.

pairing: marc spector x reader centric, steven grant x reader, jake lockley x reader

summary: after an argument with marc, you go missing. he tears himself apart trying to find you.

warnings: a dive into the mind of marc spector, angst, hurt with some comfort (i.e. jake and steven), kidnapping, vague descriptions of violence.

word count: 3.0k

notes: kind of a continuation of all the echoes in my mind, but can be read as a standalone. written as part of the @moonknight-events bingo! prompt: "insecure", I promise that not all my entries will be this sad lol

MOON KNIGHT MASTERLIST | ALL MASTERLISTS

You’re not home yet.

It’s nearly been three hours. Marc paces the apartment like a caged animal, likely wearing the hardwood underneath his feet. Steven and Jake have run their course about how stupid he is, how he shouldn’t have said what he said, how he should’ve run after you the second you stepped out the door—

But jokes on them. There can be no harsher critic of Marc than Marc himself.

He checks his phone again in case you’ve responded to his many texts and calls, but there’s nothing. As far as he knows, you haven’t even seen any of it.

His temper still lingers under their skin, and he holds it tight with both hands; anger is easy. It’s easier than admitting that the peaks in his heartrate and the sweat on his brow is from anything other than his own self-flagellation.

Anger is familiar.

This, however? The waiting for you to walk through the door, or to give them any sign of life—so much of his sanity rests in the comfort of you being safe. Marc didn’t realize how lucky he was to not know what this was like. Now, he doesn’t know if he can ever forget it.

Jake’s voice is clipped. “Check again.”

They’re all on edge, and it’s terrible. Most of the time, at least one of them manages to keep a level head during stressful situations—usually Marc. Jake is prone to anger, Steven to anxiousness.

“Marc!” Steven yanks him out of his head, and his phone is in his hand without any memory of having taken it out of his pocket. He does a dutiful look through his notifications—nothing.

Three sets of disappointment and concern pile on top of one another and drags them all down so much further.

“Do…” Steven’s voice is quiet. Unsure. “Do you think something might’ve happened to her?”

There is no dissenting opinion, no devil’s advocate. Marc doesn’t try to calm his alters down, and only clenches his jaw.

You’ve never gone quiet on them like this. They’ve never let you leave the flat at night like this. They always opted to be the one to go take a walk because even in the middle of an argument, they wouldn’t risk your safety.

The lingering silence is Steven’s answer.

When the suit wraps itself around his body, the accompanying burst of power in his veins is suffocating. His wounds begin to numb over, but Marc barely notices. He hasn’t spared them a thought since you left.

The cool air does nothing to assuage him. Clouds blot out the sky, leaving nothing but a murky backdrop as he scales up the nearest building for a vantage point. A quick scan over the horizon—nothing. Not a hint of your silhouette under the streetlights, and a lump forms in his throat.

“Khonshu!”

A gust of wind signals the god’s arrival, who, even with a bird’s skull for a head, looks remarkably bored as Marc is clinging to any semblance of sanity. He must already know what’s going on but frustratingly just spreads out his hands, a silent question—what?

Marc grits his teeth. “Where is she?”

“Who?”

“Khonshu.” The name is a snarl on his lips.

He simply scoffs. “You have the gall to make demands? As if I need to be involved with your lover’s spat?”

“She’s not answering her phone.”

A lingering pause.

“She might be in danger,” Marc snaps, trying to get the god to understand even a fraction of the severity of the situation. They might bloody their hands night after night, staining London’s streets each time they go out on patrol, but it’s never enough. There are always more monsters to take their place, and the thought that you might have run into one of them—

Khonshu cocks his head. “Maybe she’s just finally had enough of you.”

Marc hates how that’s a possibility. Still, desperation crawls out of his throat. “Can you find her?”

Khonshu turns to look over the city, the silence stretching out between them. Whatever divinity he’s channeling, Marc isn’t privy to; all he can do is stand there like a useless dumbass and wait for some hint of you to show up on the god’s radar. Even if you had had enough and never want to see him again—he’ll swallow down that fate in stride as long as he knows that you’re safe.

When Khonshu finally breaks from searching, his head cocks slightly to the side. “Interesting.”

This is hardly the time for theatrics. “Do not—”

“I cannot find her,” the god admits. Not apologetic or ashamed, but—awed. “Where she is right now, her footsteps through the city—there is nothing, Marc Spector. There’s not even a trace of her in your own home.”

The blood rushes in his ears. His chest constricts until he can barely breathe at all. Marc barely manages to wrap his head around the information before Jake and Steven come roaring back again, shocked and confused.

“Stupid fucking bird—”

“She was right here!

“Let me out, pendejo, I swear—”

“What the bloody hell does he mean—”

“How?” Is all Marc manages to get out, every one of his senses on overload.

“Something is hiding her from me; whatever took your lover is very powerful indeed.”

Took. Not a single doubt about it now: something took you. Kidnapped you because Marc couldn’t keep it together for ten-fucking-minutes. Jake and Steven can prattle all they want in the background—his mission is clear.

“Where do we start?”

-

The flat seems even bleaker when they return, your absence all the more chilling. Steven clamours to take the reins with the obvious assumption that research is the first step they need to take, but that’s quickly dashed away when Khonshu returns with a name.

“Apep.” God of darkness and disorder, Steven supplies from their head. “He’s been cast away for eons, but there have always been those trying to get him to return.”

“It’s another cult?”

Jake swears under his breath. “Figures.”

Ignoring them, Marc presses on. “Who are we dealing with now?”

“If it were easy to find them, I would’ve done it already,” Khonshu bristles. “Apep is helping them—hiding them as they work. I will continue to do what I can.”

“Fine.”

The god disappears in a whirlwind of loose papers, and Marc switches gears. Steven might have the advantage in research, but tracking? The skills he’s honed as a Marine and as a mercenary wait for him like an old pair of shoes; the others can’t help but let him work in peace.

He finds some old tourist map that spans over the city and unfolds it across the dining table. There are only so many places you would’ve gone, so many routes you could’ve taken. London doesn’t become deserted at night and barring any divine intervention, kidnapping someone would cause a scene—you would have caused a scene, he thinks, imagining you fighting tooth and nail against your assailants, screaming for someone to help—

Marc closes his eyes, clenches his jaw. A wave of pain washes over him, and he languishes in it for a minute, not a moment more.

His eyes reopen, spots dancing across his vision as he analyzes the map again. The feeling has been sealed shut into a box, shoved into a corner of his mind. Steve would throw a fit about his mental state if it were any other time, lecturing him on coping mechanisms and compartmentalization, but there’s no time for him to feel sorry for himself.

He grits his teeth and refocuses his train of thought. If they’re up against a cult, then they probably would’ve sent multiple people to grab you. Would’ve had to lure you somewhere quiet if it was by force, or they could have convinced you to go with them somehow. Or threatened you. Or…

The more he gets into it, the more he feels himself detaching from the situation, piece-by-piece. The memory of you is like a minefield; it’s a testament to his will that he can recall anything about you without breaking down. What you were wearing—and not the look on your face—when you left. Your favourite park—and not how your hand fits perfectly into his as you walked down the paths—that you might have passed through.

He reduces you to intel, just another folder on his desk. It’s not unfamiliar to him. He wouldn’t have made it this far if he couldn’t take an objective approach to his work. But it’s different because it’s you, because the stakes include you, and when he looks up to try to ground himself again, he spots your favourite mug on the coffee table. Half-empty.

-

If Layla were here.

The words bounce around his head as Marc stares up at the ceiling. He didn’t mean it. Steven and Jake are both better with words than Marc, but he’s never loved you any less—he’s never wanted you to be anyone but yourself.

It’s been almost two days since you left, and it’s only now that he’s allowed himself to be corralled into bed. His grip of the hot seat is ironclad, however, which means that the body isn’t getting any sleep tonight. The sun will rise soon, and he’ll pick up his work right where he left off.

Quietly, from the back of his head: “Marc?”

“Could’ve taken the victim anywhere,” Marc murmurs, mind still whirring in the dark.

“’Victim’?” Steven’s voice shifts to be full of indignance. “How could you possibly call her that?”

“Ay, easy on him,” Jake pipes up. For Jake to immediately to jump to his defence means that Marc must be worse off than he thought, but he can’t bring himself to care. “How’s it going, hombre?”

“No sightings on any security cameras. Nothing reported to the cops.” Hours of his time—your time—summarized in a breath. His face remains blank. “I’m going to sweep the remaining areas tomorrow. Find some people who might’ve seen something.”

He’s been doing nothing but cross possibilities off his list. It’s barely any progress and his remaining leads are weak, but his resolve is as strong as ever.

“Nothing from Khonshu?”

“No.” Marc has no idea what the god is doing.

They lay in silence for a bit, listening to the maddening tick-tick-tick of the clock on the wall. Anger is unsustainable, but Marc wishes that they’d return to yelling at him again. At least he knows what to do with that.

Instead, all he gets is Steven’s restrained tone: “Something has to change, you know.”

“Are you really telling me to go to therapy right now?”

“Can’t do much else.” For a moment, Steven’s bitterness resonates. There’s another conversation to be had here—one about their individual capabilities and protective natures—but Marc lets it rest for the night. He knows he’d be driven up the wall if their situation was reversed, if you were in danger and he had to rely on someone else to save you.

He still deflects. “Not the time for this.”

“Maybe not,” Steven concedes, “but you need help, Marc.”

Distantly, Marc recognizes that he’s always needed help. Even after reconciling with Steven and Jake, even after meeting you—the wounds are still there, despite how hard he’s tried to ignore them. He’s stubborn and self-destructive, not stupid.

“We’re with you, always,” Jake adds. Discomfort crawls under Marc’s skin from the supportive words, and he knows that his alters are well aware of it. It’s never stopped them, of course.

“We can talk about this after—after we save her.”

A general murmur of consensus. Marc quickly regains his footing, eager to move on from this line of conversation.

“I’ll find something. Or Khonshu will.” Steady and reassured—trying to convince them and himself. “We’ll get her back.”

Steven’s voice is small, even in the confines of their head. “But why would they take her in the first place?”

-

“He needs an avatar?” The body hasn’t slept in days. That void of feeling pulses with anger, desperation, fear—it simmers low in their gut, a torch passed along between them.

“Apep will need a vessel once they release him.”

“Here I thought one of his cultists would volunteer.”

Khonshu taps his staff against the ground thoughtfully. “They knew we would come after them, and we’re not the only ones.”

For the briefest of moments, Marc feels hopeful, like the odds aren’t as stacked against them as they thought. It disappears just as fast—Khonshu doesn’t deliver hope. The blood drains out of his face as he actually starts to consider the god’s words.

“If Apep possesses your precious lover, would you really be able to stop her? To take up arms against her?”

Khonshu leans in close then, hollowed eyes burrowing into him.

“Would you let others do the same?”

-

Over the next week, things begin to look up.

Someone’s girlfriend’s cousin says that they saw someone who looked like you walking down The Mall. There’s a fuzzy image of a car with no license plates. Khonshu catches the briefest hint of you on Westminster Bridge and follows you far, far east—it’s a mere grain of information that’s slipped through Apep’s power, but it’s enough for Marc.

They find the car abandoned in Dover, near the water. It rules out France—driving through the Eurochannel would’ve been the fastest route there, after all. Trying to take a public ferry would’ve been stupid with a captive, which means that they probably chartered or owned a boat.

The remaining pieces fall into place, and he can feel the anticipation from the others build in the background. Marc has led the charge so far with very few breaks to let Steven and Jake breathe a little. Steven misses you so much, he cries whenever he fronts. Jake has gone eerily quiet, and Marc knows what’s simmering underneath the surface; when the fighting starts, Jake will be called to action. His excitement is brutal.

It's all coming to an end soon. Laying on some dirt in the Norwegian countryside, shrouded in darkness, Marc’s never seen more stars in his life. If he’s right—and he is right—they’ll be bringing you to a nearby compound for the final step of their ritual. He couldn’t care less about the how or why. Come the morning, you’ll be here. Marc will get them inside. Jake will get to you. And then…

Marc will probably never be the partner that you deserve, and you never should’ve been subjected to his life. To sleepless nights and patching up his injuries and comforting him after nightmares that has him thrashing in the sheets—

But he can’t survive without you. It’s a simple little fact that gives him the power to move mountains; there are none bigger than the mess of his own head.

Exhaustion creeps up on him, and he can’t help but struggle against it. Fighting to keep his eyes open, his thoughts spill into the air. “Need to take care of her first.”

“Taking care of yourself is taking care of her,” Steven says gently. Have they had this conversation already? Marc’s been so singled in on this mission that everything else has fallen by the wayside. He can’t remember the last thing he ate, or what he’s wearing under the suit. The ground is the softest thing he’s ever felt.

If there’s any comparison to be made between you and Layla, it’s that he’s failed both of you. Maybe he could be different this time. Even if you decide that you want nothing to do with him after all this, he could still get help. He’ll have Steven and Jake. He’ll have himself and his scrappy resolve and the memories of this heart-aching pain, and maybe he’ll finally get better.

Marc lets his eyes close; the body needs rest for what’s to come. You don’t deserve any less than their best.

Just a few more hours.

-

Marc watches the fight from their headspace. Jake doesn’t miss a single shot and never so much as falters when one of them manages to land a hit. This is the longest break Marc’s gotten from fronting in a while, but he can’t bring himself to look away.

Jake loops their arm around the neck of cultist unlucky enough to be nearby, gripping his hair so hard Marc can nearly feel the strands through his fingers, feel it when Jake jerks their arm to the side and twists—

-

Your handlers left you alone in another room with nothing but a hard cot to curl into as you waited for them to retrieve you again. Locked inside but unbound—Marc hates how you startle when he breaks through the door.

Eyes wide, your mouth opens and closes multiple times without success. “You—you came.”

Marc wishes there weren’t so much surprise in your tone. Of course he came for you, it was never a choice for him—for any of them.

But clearly there was a part of you that thought he wouldn’t, wasn’t there? That he might just leave you in the clutches of some power-hungry cult because—because what, you’re not his ex-wife? Because you think he doesn’t love you?

The need to rectify that pierces his heart. He pulls you close, knuckles white in your shirt. “I love you.”

You shake in his arms. “Marc—”

“I love you.”

The words don’t stop; they fall from his lips like a prayer. Even as you weep, soaking the suit with your tears, he says it. I love you. I love you. I love you. In every variation, in every way—he’ll never let you believe otherwise again. He’ll say it over and over, work tirelessly to become the man you both deserve. For the rest of your lives. For the rest of time.

However long you’ll give him.

[cassandraclare]

*sighs a bit* Okay. Guys. I have been asked this question a lot, and answered it a lot. I don't know how to give a better answer — Dru & Ty&Kit share significance as main characters — so I guess I'll talk a little about comparison and structures.

First, all series have different structures. I don't think it's super useful or predictive to try to map an upcoming, unknown book series onto an existing series. In TLH the main character was Cordelia, everyone else was secondary to her, and people's roles and the significance of them altered from book to book. It was a big ensemble cast and they mostly stayed put in London especially in book 1.

TWP focuses on a smaller group of people. It also has a very different structure. In book one, Dru is not with Kit and Ty. They are in different places, both of which have their own stories that are significant to the plot. There is no way to see Place One without following Dru. There is no way to see Place Two without following Kit and Ty.

I know that TWP is a long way off. I know there are people who are very angry with me that there's such a gap, but there isn't anything currently I can do about that, or about the fact that I don't yet have the schedule for my upcoming books. That rests in the hands of several different publishers who must coordinate the release times and production schedules for four different series. I am not withholding any information about when these books come out. I simply don't know it yet.

I understand that TWP being a long way off makes for anxiety, and that those who are worried Kit and Ty will somehow be secondary are looking for tiny clues in microscopic details — micro-reading the of placement of the word "and" in my newsletter and such — that are meaningless, but I get that it all comes from anxiety. (FTR, those worried Dru will be secondary are equally anxious.)

I think there is only so much I can say. Because there's a big gap between TLH and TWP everything I do say or every image or hint about it is freighted with a weight of assumption it can't really support. Anxiety is always going to trump reassurance. And truly, at the end of the day, if you only care about Kit and Ty and find the idea of a Dru story tiresome, you will feel like they got shafted because when you absolutely hate a plotline, you will always feel like it's taking up way too much space. That's just how our minds work.

I've been doing this long enough that I know no book can survive a hostile reading. I know that Book Three of a trilogy is the one people hate until they don't. (When Clockwork Princess came out people hated it so much I considered quitting writing!) I know that it's wonderful to love a character but can also be a problem for people when I put out books that aren't about that particular character or dynamic. I know that for a lot of people, Sword Catcher and Ragpicker King are just tiresome things that have no business on my schedule because they're not Shadowhunter books. And I get it. But I also have to block it out, because I've been writing a long time, and I've gotten to a point where I know that I have to write the thing I want to be writing, because if I don't, if I sit down and try to force myself to write something I'm not feeling like writing at that time, I'll be making myself physically and mentally sick. And that's no good for anyone, really.

I suppose the positive thing is that, while this would not have been true five years ago, I am at the place where I want very much to be writing Wicked Powers. I missed these characters and am glad to be back with them. I consider this a story in which there are three main characters. And that is all I can say right now because it's all that I know.

(And this was much more of a general response to a lot of things than a specific response to this question, but I did feel like it was stuff that I needed to say. Creators are at the end of the day, just people. Sometimes we are powerless to reassure. Sometimes we are tired. Sometimes we are wrong. Sometimes we try things and they don't work. Sometimes we can't explain to you what our story is going to make you feel, because only reading it is going to tell you that. This may be one of those times.)

[waywardsou2]

FatherFigure!Logan X Latebloomer!AdoptedMaleReader

I was not expecting this to end up being this long...but I guess it is. I'm really happy with how this turned out. I won't spoil it. But this reader's mutation is my favourite in any universe.

Summary: You were adopted by Logan on one of his errands out of the school. Charles has deduced that you were a mutant but your mutation has not presented itself yet. One day it does, and it's not pretty.

Tags: blood, slight gore, warning for graphic imagery, hurt/comfort, father Logan, mentions of Charles and Jean

Word Count: 1.4k

Logan was sitting in Charles' office. It had been a few weeks since he had decided to stay at the school permanently and had taken up the job offer as a history teacher.

To be fair he had been alive since before the civil war so there wasn't anyone more perfect for their job. Especially now that he was able to get a lot of his memories back.

Charles has become like somewhat of a father figure to Logan, if not a good friend and confidante at the very least.

Logan had not only chosen to stay so the he could have a free room and a purpose in life but also because of you.

He had found you on a missions, picked you up and taken you back to the school. Charles had let Logan know when he was in the area that there was a mutant who hadn't presented yet.

It was safest for you here. Just because there was no way to actually tell when or what your mutation might manifest into.

But as Logan and Charles talked Charles fell silent in the middle of their conversation. Logan's eyebrows twitched in question as Charles eyes went glassy before coming back to focus on Logan. A new found worry in his eyes.

"Charles?"

"His mutation has finally manifested...Logan go"

Logan didn't have to be told twice. He knew at some point your mutation would manifest but it was hard to say when. You were well past the age of your mutation manifesting physically but there's a late bloomer in every species.

Logan pushed his chair back, it squeaking across the floor as it scrapes along the wood. He dashes down the corridors, dodging kids left and right as he makes his way to your room.

As soon as he turns down the corridor your room is in he hears it.

A piercing scream that hurts his amplified senses. A sound makes his heart ache.

He gets to the door of your room and pushes it open.

He finds you on the floor, curled in on yourself. Your shirt ripped in the back and a spattering of blood on your shirt and the floor.

You look up to see Logan. Thank fuck he's here. Before you could say anything, you open your mouth and a scream replaces your words. A sharp throb of pain spreading across your back and into your spine once more.

Logan bends down in front of you and tries to sit you up but you stay tucked into yourself.

He checks you over, as much as he can without moving you but he doesn't need to look too hard. Now that he's closer, kneeling in front of you he can see what's happening.

Sticking out of the holes in your ripped shirt are two bones, partially covered in skin and what looks to be...no way are those feathers?

Are you growing wings?

He hadn't heard of a mutation like this before. One the alters bone structure and genetic make up well into adolescent development. He would have to get Jean to check you over but right now he knew you couldn't move.

He could see the bone moving, growing at an accelerated rate that should have taken a years naturally. The skin and feathers began growing over the bone as more and more of it began to grow and stick out of your skin. The flesh around it was torn and you were bleeding profusely. He was worried about the blood loss but there was no way to staunch the blood without interfering with your growing. He might make it worse if he tampered with it.

So instead he sat there with you. He pulled you over to him so you could still stay doubled over, but your head was resting on his lap as he curled his legs underneath himself. He kept his hand in your hair, stroking it and whispering comfort to you.

He was hard to hear over your crying and occasional cries of pain but his presence was enough. It meant everything to you.

But that feeling was too mingled with fear and pain and you couldn't fully process anything. You just let the tears fall down your face as you tried to stifle your screams. Biting down on your own lip until it bled so that you didn't frighten any of the other children.

Logan watched as the bones continued to grow from your back. Sticking out further and further until a second bond joined the first one creating the rest of the wingspan as more feathers, longer and stronger began sprouting from further down the wing.

It was a few hours before the mutation had fully manifested. You had long since stopped crying the tears staining your face. You lay breathing heavily with your head still in Logan's lap.

He hadn't left your side the entire time. You sniffed and tried to keep your breathing even but even though the pain was gone the panic was not going anywhere.

When Logan was sure it was all over he helped you sit up. Making sure you didn't sit on your new wings and didn't aggravate the injury.

"Can you stand? We need to get you to Jean."

You nodded. Your back felt strange. There was a new weight. A new neurological connection to a set of muscles that hadn't existed before. You could feel the wings, you were in tune to them. Having them felt as natural as having two arms. But moving them hurts. So you let them drag on the ground behind you, rather than holding them up.

Logan took your hand and helped you walk to Jeans lab. You felt dizzy, all the blood loss has made you woozy.

Your bedroom floor and Logan's jeans were stained with it. There was so much.

Logan looked at your wings as he walked beside you. They were a deep green. Something like the leaves of the forest he used to live in during the spring. It was a beautiful colour. It matched your eyes and your hair.

He felt your pain. Knowing what it was like to have your body rip itself open for a "gift" you didn't want.

He was going to be there for you every step of the way whilst you figured this out. He made a promise to take care of you and he was going to keep it. Even if that mean struggling through your manifestation.

The two of you got to Jeans lab and she had you lay face down on her table. She poked at your wings trying to move your ripped shirt and new wings aside so she could assess the damage. It hurt. Any movement hurt but if she didn't clean the wound it would hurt a lot more later on.

She has to cut you out of your shirt because the blood had dried into a sticky brown colour and she couldn't risk getting cotton in the gashes.

She explained to you what she had to do and you nodded accepting what was necessary.

Logan crouched down in front of you and you looked at him from the bench. Forcing out a smile before Jean got to work. You shoved your face down into the table hiding the expression of pain you could feel twisted into your features. You didn't want Logan to see that. But he grabbed your hand and held onto it. You squeezed it each time pain ebbed over your skin. And he squeezed back, letting you know he was still here.

After what felt like too long Jean announced she was done. She had to stitch up a gap that was unnecessary to your wings range of movement. The extra flesh that had been torn from the growth.

She informed you that you would have to come see her again the next day and that you would have to be careful how you slept and moved until everything had fully healed and your body had adjusted.

After that Logan leads you back up to your room and helps you into bed. You don't bother to get changed. You doubt that you would fit into any of your shirts now anyway. You crawled into bed and tried to find a comfortable position but it was hard. You didn't have enough room anymore.

You reached a hand out from your place on your bed. Feeling with your hand you try to find Logan in the darkness of your room. He takes your hand and with the little strength you have you try to pull him towards you.

He gets the message and sits down in your bed. Kicking off his boots and pulling you back to lay on his legs and chest. Acting as a full body pillow for you. Within moments the exhaustion of the day caught up with you and you were out like a light.

I'm so glad I could write this. Staying up till 2am was totally worth it gets this done. I'm so proud of it! If you like this then please consider sending in a request of your own. I would be happy to take them in

[vrisrezis]

need a part 2 for the atsv love triangle where the reader is actually in love with them and after they get together they tell them about their alter ego 😩

Your wish is my command y’all!

Gwen is was carrying you, bridal style, swinging away with you in her arms. Not that you knew it was gwen anyway. Spiderwoman, upon meeting you, often decided to take you home as a means of protection, because for some reason you decided walking home in the middle of the night was a swell idea. She offered to swing you home as a result. If you didn’t know any better though, you’d say it was because she loved flirting with you so much. She never denied it when you brought it up. Honestly, she’s just not used to such a flustered look on your face, she can’t help herself. Though she does secretly envy how the real her can’t manage you make you all shy and embarrassed like that.

Today though, you seemed rather… off. Something was bothering you, and she could tell. Nothing seemed off at school, so she figured something had to have happened. “What’s got you so upset?” she questions before dropping down on top the roof of a building. “Somebody I gotta knock some sense into?” she asks, putting you down to stand next to her, looking at the scenery before you, it was nice out today. You smile, but even that feels forced. She can’t help but frown under the mask and the worry she carries is radiating off of her. You shake your head, “it’s nothing to worry about” you say before shrugging, “just normal highschool stuff.”

“What does that mean?” she inquired, and you sigh, albeit rather dramatically.” “It’s so stupid.” You admit, but before you can assure you it probably isn’t, you continue “there’s just this girl I really like. More than like. I think I love her.”

As soon as those words come out of your mouth, she feels her heart drop. Girl? Was it her? Spiderwoman? Or some other girl at school? You didn’t talk to many people aside from her, who could it possibly be?

“O-oh..” she says, looking down for a moment. She hopes you don’t hear the crack in her voice. She can’t help her curiosity, she needs to know. “Well.. who is it?” she says, trying to recover as quickly as possible. She nudges you with her elbow, “need to know if they’re good enough for you or just some tool.”

You laugh, and give her a smile. “Her names… gwen..”

“G-gwen?!” she shrieks out, her body stiffening. You don’t seem to notice.

“Yeah.. gwen… gwen stacy…”

She doesn’t say anything for a moment, but she eventually grabs onto your shoulder.

“Y/n…”

“Yeah?” you ask, confused for a moment, before you see her pull at her mask. Your eyes widen, and you suddenly feel a wash of shame upon seeing who’s under the mask.

However, she gives you a smile.

“I… love you too… by the way..”

Miles had a very simple plan, no big deal at all. All he had to do was confess he was in love with you and then eventually down the line if it works out in his favor, confess to being spiderman. No big deal…..

Or should he do it in the opposite order?

And should he still confess to being spiderman if you two end up staying friends when you reject him?

He has a lot of questions racking his brain, and to be fair he doesn’t think it’s completely unreasonable. Maybe he should’ve told you from the start. Would you even be accepting? Supportive? He’s been lying to you for a whole ass year now, you were kind, but were you that kind? He feels like there’s just no way, right? Then again, you never failed to surprise him.

He doesn’t have time to think about these questions any longer though, as he hears chaos going on outside. Not the normal kind of chaos, this was his cue.

His confession would have to wait a little longer.

—

He’s quick to his feet. Not that spiderman didn’t give it his all when it came to saving civilians, but he saw you in the fray. He bounces from building to building, webbing civilians to safety along the way, he sees you fall and he’s never jumped so fast in his life.

He reaches his hand out to yours, and finally you’re able to grab on and he’s able to pull you into his arms, picking you up bridal style all while in the air.

“We’ve really gotta stop meeting like this..” miles mutters to you, and you chuckle lightly. “Yeah well..” she look off to the side, before looking back at him. “You could always take me on a date, miles.”

Miles?

Date?

“Excusemewhatnow?”

as soon as he lands, you manage to escape his grip. Maybe it was because he was so caught off guard, since normally escaping his grasp was near impossible.

“We’ll talk later!”

You were going to be the death of him.

Hobie had enough.

If you weren’t going to figure this out on your own, he was gonna have to tell you.

I mean seriously, he loves you but you are so clueless sometimes and he genuinely wonders if you admire spiderpunk so much that you don’t want to consider he could be your best friend. He wonders if he’s being selfish and if this ruins the imagination for you but at this point he’s too pent up to even care, something he isn’t used to being. He’s typically so honest about the way he feels, never holding anything back. This should be no different.

He leaves his bag zipper carelessly open, in hopes you find it. And you do. He’s busy cleaning up his guitar, but he sees you look at him, then look back at the spider suit in the corner of his eye.

But you say nothing.

You go on about your day like you didn’t just see that.

Is he the one being played?

He eventually decides he needs to simply confront you. There’s no way around it. So he does.

It’s one of those many nights where you two are hanging out, as friends do. You’re both lying on his bed, side to side, he’s writing a song, you’re reading a comic book. He turns over on his right side to look at you, and you do the same on your left side. “Hey.” he whispers, “hey yourself.” you whisper back with a smile. He rolls his eyes.

Just be cool, man. He tells himself.

“You know..” he starts slowly, a bit unsure of the next words that will come out of his mouth, “you know I’m spiderman, right?”

He doesn’t have time to dwell on just how casual that was, to drop some information like that so simply. Then again, he did that constantly. This felt so different though.

“Yeah..” you let out a sigh, and hobie realizes that you really were playing with him the whole time. But before he can rely, you say “you know I’m in love with you, any version of you, right?”

He feels his heart stop for a moment, but he gives no indication that he’s flustered by your words.

“About damn time you said somethin, darlin”

Pavitr thinks about it, over and over and over and over and ov-

He just doesn’t know how to tell you he’s spiderman. He’s been so buys living the life as spiderman, it felt so simple, so easy. Go to school, beat up some bad guys, take some breaks to see you and his auntie, go back to fighting, come home. It was the same everytime and he didn’t seem bored of it, yet.

He hadn’t really gotten to see the consequences of being spiderman.

And then he did, when he nearly lost you. He was only able to save you because miles, gwen, and hobie were there to help him.

And from then on he knew he couldn’t lie to you anymore.

Things have been.. weird lately, to say the least. Some weird ass dark black abyss in the middle of mumbattan left many civilians curious, including yourself.

Though Pavitr felt like he could explain those bits later, he knew he just needed to tell you what was on his mind.

Because he and you both knew, he had something to say.

Spending time in your room wasn’t a rare occurrence but Pavitr found himself doing it a lot more lately, which in your opinion was good given how busy he’s been lately. You figured he must’ve been freaked out by mumbattan nearly falling apart at the seams, and you tried to be there for him. He made it clear he was there for you, too.

“Y/n I have to tell you something.” he says, turning to look at you.

You look back at him, knowing this would be a serious conversation. He never called you by your actual name, usual nicknames. You nod and place your hand on top of his, and you give him one of your warm smiles. He feels heat rush to his cheeks, but for once he doesn’t let his nerves stop him. He moves his hand to intertwine your fingers together, “I’m…” there’s a pause, and you figure you have to assure him you know.

“You’re spiderman?” you ask, and there’s a moment he looks at you, shocked. His mouth is agape, and you can’t help but smirk. “You know?!” you scoff, “yeah of course I know pav I’m not an idiot!” you say with a laugh, and a lot of his tension dissipates before he remembers what he wants to tell you.

“Well.. while that is true, that isn’t what I was gonna tell you.”

Now it’s your turn to be surprised, you raise a brow. “Yeah?”

He takes a moment, before blurting it out.

“I’minlovewithyou!” the words all come out jumbled at once and he almost considered repeating himself before you give him a kiss on the cheek. “In love with you too, pav. But I also knew that already.” you say cheekily, “what?! How?!” “You’re not exactly subtle” you shrug.

“Can I have any victory today? Can we start over and you just pretend you didn’t know?”

you smile and shake your head, and he groans.

But honestly, the only reason he’s being so silly right now is so he doesn’t absolutely melt into your hands like putty over the fact you kissed him on the cheek.

[telesilla]

Not gonna go out on this limb on a 25k post, but maybe it’s okay that kids today don’t know as much about using an actual computer as we do/did? Is it useful knowledge? Of course it is. So is using a sewing machine or being able to rebuild your VW with a copy of that one book every VW driver used to have. That’s not the right question—most practical knowledge is useful after all. The question should be “is it relevant to the way people live right now.” “How to Keep Your VW Alive” is a timeless fucking classic; my ex and I kept our copy long after he sold his VW. But I’m not buying a copy now because it won’t exactly help me keep my VW ID4 on the road.

And it’s funny, because I tend to read along with those posts and nod my head, because back in my day we HAD to know all that computer stuff. And then for some reason today, I remembered a conversation my mom and I had with my grandma in the mid 70s when I was a teenager. Grandma made my mom’s wedding dress. She worked at a department store doing alterations on foundation wear, which if you look at 1950s foundation wear, you’ll realize was both necessary and difficult. So she was shocked when I said most of my friends didn’t know their way around a sewing machine. “But how do you make sure your clothes fit?!” Well, Grandma, people don’t wear heavy foundation wear any more and clothes don’t need to be as tailored as they did back in the day—it’s 1975 and the only alterations I need to do is hemming my flares so they just touch the floor when I’m wearing platforms.

Now you can back up and look at the broader picture, the one that says, but your car should be repairable by you as long as you have clear instructions, and you should be able to alter your clothes or make your own, and yes, you should know how to organize the files on the desktop of your laptop. But the fact that for the most part it’s become easier and easier to just not do those things (if they can be done at all) isn’t exactly the fault of Kids Today. And it’s certainly not meeting them where they are or even trying to understand why they feel they don’t need that knowledge if, instead of looking at why they don’t have it and maybe even don’t need it, you just decry their lack of the Deep Wisdom.