#ruby stance Tumblr posts

[yung-bruhh]

i been dead already for a long time

and theres somewhere in the universe, im prolly doin just fine

but it aint here

[clownkiwi]

rewatching egoraptor's video on castlevania (because im watching the 7 hour long castlevania retrospective and they referenced. avgn. because when you think of simon's quest who else do you think of but avgn) and i've noticed something. arin Really Doesn't Like metroidvanias...

[veshialles]

really wanted Hyacinth's playthrough to be the one where everything goes wrong but unfortunately i'm so goddamn predictable that even on a full renegade minimal-sidequests playthrough I'm still probably gonna end up with enough war assets to get the "good" outcome

[motherswrath]

the vrykul in icecrown when xarentia rolls up to kill some scourge.

[cowboyhorsegirl]

how goes ur spn journey

it's going well! i'm right at the beginning of s3 but i haven't been able to watch much this past week due to extenuating circumstances

[acotarxreader]

Other Worlds

Azriel x reader

Synopsis: Nesta accidentally pulls you from our realm into theirs and a certain Spymaster can't help but be enamoured.

Original Request: "So I was wondering if you could do like Reader is from the modern world but ends up in the ACOTAR world, and ends up like falling in love with one of batboys."

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of cuts from a fall, my silly wordplay

A/N: I loved writing this, it really had me in my silly sense of humor (at one point Azriel is jealous because he thinks Xanax is a person) and just like also so happy to have written my first request! I hope you like it Anon and tolerate my silliness.

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“Do you think she’s dead?”

“Hard to say, you fall that height and would expect it” Nesta gently rocked the body back and forth with the sole of her shoe and you groaned.

“This is exactly why you shouldn’t practice without Amren Nesta” Feyre bit out.

“And how was I supposed to know that a human would fall out of the sky? And besides, I did catch her before she hit the ground” Feyre gave a huff to her sister’s bored tone. 

“But not before all the trees Nesta”

“Details, details”

“Rhys is gonna kill you, we have to move her before he finds out” Feyre got level with your marbling body, sticks and leaves sticking out of your hair from your fall through the canopy above. Nesta folded her arms across her chest in protest as Feyre rolled you onto your back, a deep whimper escaping your throat.

“Well she’s not dead”

“For now” Nesta raised an amused eyebrow before rolling her eyes and squatting to lift your feet as Feyre caught your shoulders with her own disapproving look. 

“Her clothes are so odd, is it continent fashion?”

“Hard to say, the material on her legs is so…dense?” Nesta replied, a thumb rolling over the cuff of your jeans, your Doc Marten burying into her sternum.

The two sisters carried your weak body through the hillside towards the cabin they had retreated to for a break from the Illyrians. They reached the humble home after a small uphill climb in the Winter air and gently placed you down on the couch again. The two stood then at the foot of the couch, unsure of what to do next with their new house guest, a thud from outside followed by a swear interrupting their thoughts. 

“Shit it's Azriel with the food supplies you forgot”

“You forgot” Feyre returned

“Whatever, here help me cover her” The two sisters sheathed you in a thick woollen blanket as Azriel pushed through the door causing the females to shoot straight up, standing shoulder to shoulder to try to hide you behind them. 

“Hey, I dropped a bottle of liquor on the path sor- what are you two doing?” he looked suspiciously at the two, plopping the crate of food down by the mouth of the door. 

“Nothing!” their heads snapped to one another at the same time, cursing their simultaneous reply. 

“You two have the same look on your face that Cassian had when he was trying to hide the blood ruby he got from Summer Court after his experiment with arson” he gave a laugh that turned nervous when the females didn’t do the same, another almost panicked glance shared between them. 

“Well if that’s all Az, thanks for coming” Feyre made a quick movement to Azriel, catching his shoulders and turning him back towards the door, Nesta taking a wide stance to try to obscure more of you. 

“Fucking hell” your voice rattled out in pain as you pushed to sit up, the wool sinking down to your lap as your heavy hand found your bleeding head. Azriel’s eyes grew to nearly the width of his skull as he looked frantically between Nesta and Feyre. 

“She did it!” they said in unison again, pointing to one another. 

“Oh Rhys is going to kill you” he whispered angrily, moving to the couch as Nesta sidestepped, throwing an anxious look at Feyre.

“Whe-re the fuck a-m I? What happ-ened?” your hand traced through your thick hair, branches catching in the locks. You squeezed your eyes together tightly, trying to bring the cozy cabin into focus before swinging your legs to the ground and supporting your weight with one arm. Your movement went entirely still as you looked up to find the three members of the Night Court staring at you with matching bewilderment. 

“Am-am I dead?” Your stare landed on Azriel’s wings, conclusions forming quickly.

“No unfortunately not” Feyre elbowed Nesta into the ribs as Azriel analysed your whole figure with his hazel eyes, his shadows swirled around his feet until they wrapped around yours. Your shriek of pure terror caused them to dash back to their master. 

“You're okay!” Azriel tried but it was too late, you were in full panic mode, your system shutting down in utter distress until you felt your blood pressure hit the soles of your feet after hitting the ceiling, sending you into a loss of consciousness. 

“Nice going you big bat, you killed her” Azriel gave a dirty look towards Nesta, her eyes rolling for the thousandth time that day. 

“Send for Madja-”

“-Rhys will kill Nesta for this”

“Well I think her little magic trick will die without her” Feyre folded her arms into her chest, weighing up the options. 

“We could give her the tonic that's here, let her heal without everyone gawking at her at home. I’ll go back with Nesta and explain, by the time we’re here again perhaps she’ll be healed and Amren will be home from her travels and can send her back” 

“And am I supposed to play healer Feyre?”

“Well you have more experience with healing because of the battlefield than us and besides, Nesta isn’t known for her bedside manner” Azriel sighed before rubbing a hand across his face at Feyre’s logic, she showed him how you got here in his head to help her point.

“Okay fine, go but if she dies, I’m not to blame” They nodded in agreement, taking another look at your floppy body before heading for the door with their things, kicking the box of supplies out of the way. 

Azriel lifted your legs slowly back onto the couch before fetching a dish full of mountain water and healing tonic. He hovered the cloth over one of your large gashes that had cut straight through your straight-leg jeans. He looked over your body, unable to hide his curiosity towards the university logo decorating your sweatshirt, the deep purple colouring at the very ends of your hair as well as the multiple pieces of metal piercing through your ear's cartilage. Despite the series of cuts and bruises generously coating you, Azriel believed you might be the most beautiful creature he had ever seen and you were entirely out for the count. 

He sighed, dropping the cloth back into the dish and going to make tea with another healing concoction. He rolled his shoulders back and tucked his wings in as tight as possible to minimise their appearance before gently tapping your shoulder to bring you around. When that didn’t work, he fetched one of Cassian’s training boots and ran it beneath your nose, you stirred immediately. You went to shoot up in shock, his strong steady hand, gently pressing you back down. 

“You’re okay, you…you just fell but you’re okay.” he said as softly as possible, the ease of his voice unable to settle the rising worry across your face. 

“I-I fell?” he gave you a small nod, not entirely a lie he thought to himself. 

“Fucking hell my head-” you once again ran your hands down your face, the dry blood slightly flaking in the movement “-do you have any paracetamol or something?”

“Para-what-almol?” Azriel’s eyebrow raised in question before he reached for the tea he made for you from the small table behind him. You removed your hands from your face and looked towards the squatting Illyrian, taking in the beautiful male in front of you, pain being replaced by embarrassment. You pushed up despite his disapproval look, returning to the same position you were in before you fainted.

“Sorry, I should-I should go? Emm…where are we?” 

“This is Velaris”

“Velentia?! How did I get here?!” You shot to your feet in surprise, the blood rushing and sending you shakenly back to the soft fabric almost as quickly. 

“No, I’m not sure where that is but you’re not there, here take this” he passed the cup with a half laugh and you looked down unconvinced. 

“No thanks man, not here to be poisoned” Azriel scoffed in slight offense as he watched you wince to put it back on the small table. You look down at your freshly ripped jeans, your fingers tracing the fresh wounds. 

“I’m Azriel” His voice brought your eyes back to him as he passed you the soaked cloth, allowing you to run it over the gashes. 

“YN” You gave a small smile back, fighting the singe of the elixir. 

“YN? That’s an odd name”

“You say that as if there’s an Azriel at every petrol station in town” You half laugh, more questions entering Azriel’s head than answers. Azriel rose to his feet and headed into the kitchen with the abandoned groceries as you finished with your leg, starting on your forehead. 

“No paper here or something?” Azriel looked towards you as you took the cabin in in all its glory, Feyre’s artwork the object of your marvelling. 

“They’re Feyre’s, she was here earlier. She went a bit mad up here when she found out Rhysand was her mate”

“Mate? Oh she’s like Australian?”

“What? You speak in riddles” he laughed, joining your side on the couch with his own cup of tea. You looked at it with an air of hunger, not unnoticed by the Spymaster, he looked from the cup to your face. 

“You can drink it YN, it’s not poisoned, here look I’ll take a sip” You watched him take a taste before offering it back to you where you took it from him, its fresh floral taste having an almost reviving effect, you drank it almost one gulp. 

“Now, I’m afraid you can’t go home just y-”

“Fuck I knew it! What’s in this tea?! I’m being kidnapped!” You shot towards the door, almost knocking the dish of water all over the floor, sending Azriel swearing. You reached your exit and with a wave of his hand, Azriel locked it from the inside.

“YN, no one is going to hurt you, you just, this is going to be hard to explain, one of my…friends brought you here by accident” You still tried to pull on the knob of the door, glancing from it to Azriel as he stood to close the distance.

“Stay back! I know self-defence!” Azriel couldn’t hold his laugh at the small human girl before him threateningly looking at him. He went to catch your arm softly, only for you to send your heavy-booted Doc straight into his instep, followed by the base of your palm up and into his nose, the shock of your sudden movement catching him off guard. He groaned slightly reaching for his nose as it bled, missing your hand reaching for the keys in your pocket and the mace on the keychain. Azriel roared at the feeling of the spray of chemicals burning into his eyes, sending him onto the floor writhing in pain.

“Fuck! Fine! Die in the snow!” He shouted out, waving his hand and releasing the door. You hardly heard him, whipping the door back as the now night air lashed in near-freezing gails of icy snow. You fought the tornado of air as you put the oak door between you and it, sliding down the wood to the ground, your body screaming in pain still from the fall. Azriel sat up, still blinking hard to clear the burning liquid. 

“And you thought I’d be the one to use poison” A breathy laugh left him as his red eyes watered and you found yourself matching his smile.

“I promise I won’t kill you, if you don’t kill me” he gave you a genuine look and for some reason you felt such a wave of trust hit you. You agreed, too tired to run from him or face the snow and you rolled your head along the door before looking back at the Illyrian, tracing your eyes along his linen shirt and leather pants

“Are you in a motorbike gang or something?”

“Gods I hope you start making sense soon” he pushed up from the ground, doing his best to not untuck his wings for balance. You looked up at him and reluctantly took the hand he offered, noting the deep scaring covering them like burls on a tree. He followed your eyes to his hands before he gingerly took them back to replace them across his still-stinging eyes. Azriel threw himself back down on the couch and you followed suit.

“I’m sorry about the-” you gestured to your own eyes and he gave a small laugh.

“It’s okay, I’m impressed a human would have such speed, to be honest”

“Human? And what are you a fish?” 

“No” he didn’t return your laughing tone, only reaching for your disregarded cloth and placing it over his eyes. Your hand ran down the side of your jeans until you retrieved your phone, the screen fully destroyed from your dance with the trees. 

“Great” you sighed, throwing it down on the table, Azriel watching the action. 

“Nesta couldn’t save your mirror from the fall?”

“Nesta? Rhysand? Azriel? No one called like Dave around here?” 

“Not really the fashion in Prythian” he smiled.

“Prythian? Like from the children's stories?” you chuckled at him.

“No, Prythian like the realm” he tossed the cloth back into the dish, the red in his eyes subsiding. 

“My mom used to tell me stories about Prythian and these like great bat boy warriors with these really big-big-win…” you trailed off as you looked to see the shape of Azriel’s wings over his shoulder. 

“Really big? Well, thanks for the flattery” He laughed aloud as your face greyed. 

“Fuck, it’s happened, studying for my physics final has finally driven me insane, this is all in my head, a stress-induced dream” Azriel reached to your thigh and gave you a gentle pinch following your matter-of-fact speech, causing you to flinch a little.

“Okay so not a dream…”

“Not a dream, my brother’s lovely ma-wife’s sister, pulled you through a sort of rip in the realm and landed you here…not very carefully might I add” He said softly so as to not have you black out again, you nodded very very slowly to his words. You faced away from him, fixing your stare on the smashed phone, you thought of your physics lectures. The theories of tears in the fabric of time being possible, the possibility of alternative realities, the possibility of unexplored realms before settling finally that this wasn’t a possibility, this was a reality. 

“So, okay, right-” you bit your lip, working through the thought, Azriel trying to push the shiver down his spine away at that action “-okay cool, right, so I’m gonna need like an excuse note or something for the exam and then, right, cool, Xanax maybe”

“Is Xanax a friend of yours who can help?” Your head shot towards Azriel at his genuine question and you let a roar of laughter leave you. 

“Definitely although I don’t think they’re here somehow” you offered with a smirk, Azriel feeling a weird sense of jealousy at not being the object of this smile. 

“Well, we’ll make do and try to get you home” You nodded sheepishly to him.

“Do you not want to go home YN? You seemed pretty eager when you tried to break my nose earlier” he smiled and you gently knocked into his shoulder playfully. 

“I mean…I’m not in a rush to get back to the test” 

“Okay well, it will be a day or two before my friends are back and Rhys has calmed down over Nesta bringing you to greet us so you’ll have time. As for now, care to have something to eat? You can help me make it so we both know neither is trying to poison the other” he gave a light laugh while standing again, and you followed him along to the kitchen. 

For the rest of the night, the both of you spent your time cooking, laughing and teaching one another about your worlds. Azriel explained the Courts, his role and his family’s as well as giving a shortened version of their relationships with one another. In return, you told him about your studies, what Instagram was and how democracy works. Azriel wasn’t sure he’d ever felt such strong feelings towards someone he’d just met before and it confused him almost as much as what microwaves were. 

“Here you go, a glass of our best liquor, you deserve it” Azriel passed you the tumbler as you sat cross-legged on the couch beneath the woollen blanket you were previously hidden under.

“Oh slay”

“No, I didn’t kill anything to get this for you” You almost choked on the drink with the laugh that left you at his confused words. 

“No Azriel it’s like-actually maybe I’ll explain drag culture to you another day” He nodded eagerly at the prospect of learning more, sinking into the couch alongside you with his own drink. 

“So have you girlf-mate type person like Feyre and Rhys?”

“No, no girlf-mate type person-” he teased back and you sighed, clipping him with the pillow from under your elbow “-do you?”

“Nope, to be honest, I don’t think I’ll be missed from home, I lost my parents young and never really found my flock at college either” you shrugged. 

“How could anyone not miss you YN?”

“You have to say that, you’re my captor”

“Actually Nesta captured you, I’m just minding you-” You returned his smirk “-speaking of which, time for sleep, tomorrow they should be back to figuring getting you home for your exam” you whined like a misbehaving child but you’d been fighting off sleep since dinner so agreed with him.

He lead you to his room in the cabin before offering you one of his clean linen shirts and leaving you to sleep. You practically swam in the fabric, with no wings or Illyrian muscles to fill it out, feeling the same way about the colossal bed that you slipped into. You looked up at the ceiling where Feyre had painted delicate little consolations, the day washing over you, had all your prayers finally been answered? You smiled as you gave into the sleep that hunted you all day.

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“We are sending her back!”

“Amren can’t guarantee she’ll end up in her realm, she’s not going anywhere!” You wiped the sleep from your eyes, Azriel's blunt tone waking you from the best sleep of your life.

“She can’t stay here Az!”

“And what if she ends up somewhere a lot worse, she coul-oh YN you’re awake” You looked from the doorway between the two gorgeous Illyrians. 

“This is Rhysand”

“Oh, your majesty I suppose” you did a half bow after stepping closer to the males, a small laugh leaving Rhysand at the action. 

“Don’t flatter him YN”

“YN, flatter me if that would make you happy” he grinned, Azriel rolling his eyes. 

“You’re exactly as described” You shrugged at him, settling down on the couch between where the lllyrians stood

“I would like to apologies for Nesta’s…interuption to your day to day life and more so for…probably being all Nesta when you woke up” Rhysand offered, Azriel folding his arms tightly across his chest as he inspected you closely, you in his shirt may now be his favourite sight. Rhysand watched the slight change in his brothers demanour at your presence, this increasing his worry. 

“Now YN, it’s time we get you back to-”

“-I heard you guys say you can’t say for certain I’ll get home” you cut across Rhysand, his eyes darting back to you, Azriel trying to bury his smirk.

“I’m confident we know how to get you there”

“Okay cool, so Feyre will accompany me” 

“What?” Rhysand bit out.

“Well its just if you’re so sure you’ll get me in the right spot, surely you’ll have no issue allowing Feyre to accompany me yanno, since you’re confident” Azriel lost his battle in holding in his smirk. 

“She’s got you there Rhys, if one of us wouldn’t do it, why should she?”

“Because she doesn’t belong here” Rhysand chewed out, locking eyes with his brother.

“She is sitting right here and she isn’t going near any wormhole or whatever if you’re not sure I’d get there safe” You forced his attention back to your with your sharp words.

“Who said anything about worms?”

“YN has a habit of speaking in riddles” Azriel sat alongside you, giving you a somewhat proud smile, his arm instinctively resting on the back of the couch behind you. 

“YN, I’m sure you’re great but I can almost guarantee that our world is vastly different to yours, it’s a lot to take on for your mortal mind, perhaps we could arrange a home for you in the mortal realm?” you tilted your head side to side weighing up his offer before Azriel replied for you.

“I can teach her our ways, I can school her like you did Feyre” Rhysand sighed out but couldn’t deny the way Azriel looked at you and you at him was deeply familiar to him. 

“Fine, a week, you may stay a week and if it doesn’t work out then the mortal realm it is, we’ll set you up with a nice manor and you’ll live very comfortably”

“Like Downton Abbey?” you teased despite your audience.

“I’m not familiar with that region”

“Is that where the drag culture is?”

“Of sorts” you laughed at Azriel and his quizzical words, his hazel eyes so enamoured by the sight, further cementing Rhysand’s suspicions. Rhysand sighed deeply ensuring you agreed to the terms and to be taught by Azriel before he left to continue to reprimand Nesta. 

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Over the next week it became abundantly clear that despite being from two different realms, you and Azriel were made for one another. You both had the same humor and intelligence as well as thirst for knowledge. You continued to teach him about your home and he taught you about the new world around you and the more you learned the less you wanted to leave. On your first day in Velaris, you thought your heart may burst with the growing love for the place and even more so for your guide. 

“And then Cass completely blew the building up, I thought the vein was going to burst in Rhysand’s head” Azriel tilted his head back and laughed loudly while you both crossed the bridge of the Sidra, your last official day in the Night Court before you had to decide. Somewhere along the way, Azriel and your hands became interlocked and forgot to separate.

“You live such insane lives here”

“And you could too” he stopped you in your tracks, his eyes warming over your body as he looked down on you, the sinking sun reflecting off of the snow. 

“Maybe with less arson though” he added with a grin you loved so much. 

“Az, I’d love to stay but-”

“-No, just say ‘Az I’d love to stay’ and leave it there” he fought his faltering smile as you looked down at his shoes, both hands held in his now. 

“But Az-” you couldn’t find the end of the sentence, the words lost on Azriel’s lips as they met yours with such searing passion. His mouth slotted over yours with such a perfect fit it was like they were always meant to be there. You stood further on your toes to deepen the kiss as his hands traced around the nape of your neck and yours landed around his torse. You separated when the need for air almost matched the need to never let go. 

“I-I can’t remember the end of my last thought” you laughed lightly and he grinned. “So you’ll stay?”

“I don’t think I was ever going to be able to walk away from you…well not without mace anyways” you smiled back into another kiss, the second of many many more.

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Let Me Know What You Think Friend!?

Part Two

[librababe99]

In the Quiet Hours

A/N: First off, thank y’all so much for showing so much love to the work I’ve posted so far! It’s great to see all the interactions and makes me happy people are sticking around to see more🥹

In honor of hitting 30 followers I decided to write a quick one shot with Scott Summers. Please let me know if there are other X-men OR MCU characters you would like me to write for!  - Libra ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:*

Word Count: 566 CW: Suggestive themes, friends to lovers 

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The dim glow of the X-Mansion hallway lights barely illuminated your path as you made your way to the kitchen for a late-night snack. You weren’t expecting to run into anyone—especially not Scott.

He was leaning against the counter, shirtless, his body bathed in the soft light filtering through the windows. You paused in the doorway, your breath catching at the sight of him. Scott was always disciplined, composed, but here, in the quiet of the night, he seemed… different. His usual intensity softened, a rare vulnerability on display.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, his voice low, almost a whisper. His ruby quartz glasses reflected the faint light, concealing his eyes, but you could feel his gaze on you, heavy and assessing.

“Yeah,” you replied, stepping into the kitchen, suddenly hyper-aware of the space between you. “You?”

He gave a small shrug, a half-smile tugging at his lips. “Something like that.”

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, from the way his muscles tensed and relaxed as he shifted his stance, from the way his skin glowed under the faint light. There was an unspoken tension between you, something that had been simmering for weeks, maybe longer. It was there in the way his fingers brushed yours as he handed you a glass of water, in the way your breath hitched at the accidental touch.

“Scott…” You hesitated, your voice barely audible. The air between you felt charged, every second stretching into something more.

He didn’t say anything, just took a step closer, his proximity making your pulse quicken. His hand reached out, gently cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin in a way that made your heart race. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the intoxicating scent of him filling your senses.

The tension between you was palpable, electric. His thumb traced the curve of your jaw, sending shivers down your spine. You could sense the restraint in him, the careful control he always maintained, but there was something more now—something raw, something hungry.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” he admitted, his voice hushed, as if afraid to break the spell. “More than I should.”

Your breath hitched, your heart pounding in your chest. “Me too.”

The admission hung in the air, charged with a need that neither of you could ignore any longer. Scott leaned in, his lips hovering just above yours, giving you every chance to pull away. But you didn’t.

When his lips finally met yours, it was slow, deliberate, like he was savoring every moment. His hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss with a fervor that made your knees weak. You melted into him, the world fading away until there was nothing but the feel of his mouth on yours, the way his hands gripped you like he never wanted to let go.

When you finally broke apart, you were both breathless, foreheads resting against each other. Scott’s fingers lingered on your waist, his touch firm, possessive.

“This… this can’t be just once,” he whispered, his voice rough, filled with need.

You smiled, your fingers tracing the contours of his chest. “I wouldn’t want it to be.”

The promise lingered between you, a quiet acknowledgment of what had been building for so long. You knew this was just the beginning, that whatever this was between you, it was far from over.

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[pin-k-ink]

ruination // hoshina soshiro

tw ⇢ highly suggestive content, mentions of an injury, reader is fucking suicidal, strong sexual tension, slight nipple play, making out, dirty talk

wc ⇢ 3.2k

a/n: this is basically an experiment to see if i’m any good at writing for soshiro. so i need yall to give me some feedback this time please 🙏

Another kaiju attack, another chance to get up close and personal with true, visceral pandemonium. You ignored the blaring evacuation sirens as the city’s streets emptied around you in a stampede of panicked civilians. Where they saw horror, you found an intoxicating allure in the pounding footfalls and slashing claws reducing skyscrapers to rubble.

Up ahead, a thunderous roar shook the very earth underfoot. You grinned eagerly, clutching your camcorder tighter as you broke into a sprint towards the rampaging beast. This was your raison d'être - capturing the primal chaos and catastrophic beauty of each kaiju's uninhibited violence up close, no matter the cost.

What you hadn't anticipated was the familiar whirlwind abruptly blocking your path mere yards from the leviathan's wake of destruction. A lean form dropped into a battle-ready crouch as disheveled dark violet locks whipped across blazing ruby eyes.

"Well, well...if it isn't my own personal videographer stalker," Soshiro drawled in that rich, lazy cadence that never failed to rankle you.

Despite the undeniable peril surrounding you both, the elite monster hunter's full lips curved into a taunting smirk as he raked an insolent look over you from beneath lowered lashes.

"You know, there are easier ways to get some alone time with me besides throwing yourself into harm's way constantly," he purred. "All you gotta do is ask nicely and I'll let you film me up close and personal with all the...details."

You felt a traitorous flush creep up your neck at the blatant insinuation and couldn't resist scowling fiercely at Soshiro's audacity. As if his suave flirtations and flawless physique encased in that flattering skinsuit weren't enough of a distraction already!

"Ugh, no thanks," you sneered to cover for the treacherous flutter in your belly. "I prefer not to sully my lenses with footage of your ugly mug if I can help it."

Rather than looking affronted, Soshiro simply chuckled - the sound zinging through your veins like lightning before your muddled senses could react. In the blink of an eye, his blade was in hand as he angled his taut body into a defensive crouch shielding you from the kaiju's ravenous path.

"Well then, ugly or not," he shot back with a wink that should be illegal, "better get that fancy camera rolling, sweet thing. You're about to get an up-close look at how this big bad handles ugly customers..."

You hardly registered the lumbering beast's furious bellow as it wheeled towards you both, distracted by the lean lines of sinewy power thrumming through Soshiro with each sinuous shift of his stance. The relentless, feral aura of self-assurance bleeding from his pores in cresting waves of heat that made you feel utterly spellbound.

Shaking yourself free of the trance, you hefted the camcorder almost reflexively to start filming as Soshiro launched himself with devastating speed towards the kaiju's slashing maw. Despite the grave stakes, you couldn't deny your rapidly pounding pulse was just as much about capturing your bodyguard's unbound flow and virile grace on camera as the magnificent monster itself.

As always, Soshiro danced through the melee like a preternatural force unto himself - twisting and feinting with cat-like agility around each lancing tail sweep or snapping jaw until the perfect opening presented itself. The moment his blade carved into the beast's hide elicited a molten thrill you knew better than to name - one that had you ravenously tracking every coiled shift or his powerful physique and piercing eyes narrowed in sublime focus.

You continued relentlessly filming while Soshiro flowed from strike to high-flying counter like a man possessed. Utterly blind to anything but the sheer ruthless beauty of his form locked in mortal combat against the heaving, raging bulk swatting at his diminutive shadow.

So entranced were you by the dance underway that you failed to register your feet carrying you closer and closer into the heart of the fray. Not until a jagged chunk of debris went whipping past your head to strike home in a blossoming line of fiery agony across your scalp.

The world seemed to tilt dangerously for a moment, dimming at the edges as you reeled backwards with your free hand clutched to the ragged gash you could already feel seeping ribbons of wet heat down your face. Your grip on the camcorder slipped, precious cargo tumbling from numb fingers into the rubble.

Vague shouts and alarmed calls echoed in your ringing ears, barely piercing the fog of shock and concussion gripping your addled senses. Until suddenly, a pair of corded arms clamped around your waist to haul you bodily back against a powerful, compact frame that reeked of steel and sandalwood.

"What the fuck...?!" Soshiro roared breathlessly against your dazed form, sounding utterly incensed for perhaps the first time you'd witnessed. "Are you actually trying to get yourself killed today, you crazy girl?!"

You tried valiantly to quip back with some paltry rejoinder, to claw back a shred of your usual contemptuous bravado in the face of his censure. But his grip tightened with bruising force as he wrenched you aside even as you valiantly tried to squirm free.

"Hey, hey...look at me right now," he growled, scorching timbre bleeding real hints of genuine concern as his hand snared your jaw to still your reeling head.

Blearily, you managed to regain focus on the sharp planes of Soshiro's features twisted into rare unguarded turmoil as he drank in your battered state. His brows pinched, pursing those sinful lips around a guttural exhale as ruby irises slowly dilated with rising wrath.

"You never fucking listen to me," he bit out, each word clipped and dripping with bitter accusation. "I tell you to stay back, and what do you do? Go and get yourself hurt because you're too goddamn thick to see how much of a liability you make yourself when you pull this shit!"

You blinked back the sting of tears, uncomprehending and ashamed at the raw anger directed your way, He'd always been such an incorrigible flirt, not outright furious. What had--?

"You're bleeding...Fuck, you're putting me off my game here so fucking bad," Soshiro continued in a strained rush, free hand ghosting over the steady stream trickling from your hairline with surprising delicacy. "What's it gonna take for you to finally get it through that thick skull, huh? That I can't just—!"

Whatever frenzied outburst he might've unleashed fractured apart as the kaiju's baleful roar rent the air behind you both. You felt Soshiro's powerful frame tense against yours instinctively, torn between lashing you further and prioritizing the imminent threat looming ever nearer.

Without an ounce of ceremony, he simply turned and cupped the back of your skull to his chest as the ground quaked beneath another deadly stomp from the rampaging beast. You flinched despite yourself, bracing for the world to detonate around your fragile forms in violence.

Instead, you felt Soshiro's hips roll and coil in slow, sinuous motion as he absorbed the impact through his thighs with flawless technique. The compact power thrumming beneath his supple control sent a frisson of electric heat zinging down your spine to pool low in your core in unmistakable yearning.

"We'll finish this conversation once I've neutralized the threat," he grit out against the crown of your head in a low, dangerous purr. "Until then...don't you dare think about moving from this spot and forcing me to protect you from your own reckless ass again."

With that gruff declaration, Soshiro released you unceremoniously to rejoin the fray with a preternatural gait. You swayed in place numbly, fingers hovering over the ragged cut as wave after wave of arousal and shame crashed over your muddled senses in equal measure.

Part of you bristled at his cavalier disregard, your suicidal urges demanding you fling yourself back into the violent pandemonium without further thought. To let the kaiju's rampage swallow you whole in a blaze of visceral glory against Soshiro's wishes.

But the greater, deeply unsettling part clenched with a yearning you could no longer ignore as you tracked the elite hunter's lithe figure weaving amidst claw swipes and rubble in lethal tandem. Each rolling shift of his taut, sinewy muscles beneath that unforgiving suit set your mouth watering for reasons entirely divorced from your typical appetites.

This time, the compulsion had nothing to do with craving unbound violence or anarchy raining down without mercy. No, your new fixation centered solely on what primal ecstasy might await should you surrender to Soshiro's virile dominion utterly and without reservation. To indulge in the promise of violent rapture bound in the most intoxicating packaging imaginable...

You really were utterly, inexplicably gone when it came to this fearless man blurring the lines between heroics and carnal audacity. And unless this maddening attraction claimed you first, the discovery of whether you'd finally bent Soshiro's staunch convictions to your suicidal compulsions might just render the distinction tragically moot.

You drifted back to consciousness slowly, a dull throbbing ache pulsing behind your eyes to the cadence of beeping machines. Grimacing against the harsh fluorescent lights, you cracked open your lids and immediately recognized the stark sterility of a hospital room surrounding you.

Sluggishly, the fractured memories trickled back - the kaiju's rampage, Soshiro's scathing fury as he pinned you to safety while blood matted your hair. Tentatively, you raised one hand and felt the coarse linen bandages swaddling your head in confirmation. So that part, at least, hadn't been some fevered dream.

Wincing through the fog of grogginess, you braced yourself upright on shaking arms in preparation to swing your legs over the side of the mattress. This place was the last you wanted to linger after awakening, no matter the severity of your injuries. Anywhere had to be better than--

"Don't. Even. Think about it."

You froze at the rough, utterly irate rasp that seemed to roll over your prone form in a wave of molten sin. Slowly, you felt the hairs along your nape prickling to attention as your gaze skated up over a pair of powerful thighs clad in fatigues to settle on Soshiro's furious visage.

The elite hunter was perched on the room's solitary chair with his forearms braced on widespread knees, dark locks askew in artful disarray. But it was those striking ruby irises smoldering from beneath lowered lashes that held you utterly immobile, pinning you to the mattress with more force than any physical restraint ever could.

"You gotta be kidding me..." Soshiro growled after a fraught pause, upper lip curling in a wordless snarl. "After that stunt you pulled back there, you're seriously going to try and flee medical right when you finally come to?"

You swallowed hard, torn between withering beneath the sheer wrath radiating off him in waves or doubling down with some token act of defiance. Before you could determine which, Soshiro was surging to his feet in an effortless roll of taut muscle and prowling towards the bed like a panther eyeing its prey.

"I said," he repeated, each word bitten off like a slashing blade as you felt the mattress dip beside your prone form, "don't even think about moving, sweet thing..."

Suddenly his looming silhouette blotted out all other input, hemming you in with no avenue of escape as scorching puffs of his molten baritone caressed your flushed features. You stared up at Soshiro in dumbstruck, reluctant awe of the towering fury he exuded so effortlessly - a primal force of nature in his own right contained only by savage self-discipline.

Yet beneath the palpable waves of reproach rolling off him was something else, something darker and infinitely more perilous that set your nerve endings alight in ways you couldn't fathom. It simmered in the blistering intensity of his hooded stare boring into your widened eyes as one calloused palm rose to settle over your rapidly thundering pulse.

"You're lucky you didn't lose this tonight," Soshiro murmured, deep baritone turned to gravel as his knuckles grazed the sensitive skin over your jugular tauntingly. "Playing those idiotic reindeer games amidst a fuckin' deadly situation..."

He trailed off in a wordless growl, the backs of his fingers drifting down the pounding column of your throat in a slithering caress that raised heated goosebumps erupting over every inch of your hyper-aware flesh. Lower still, tracing over your collarbones tantalizingly before he seemed to regain control of himself.

"When are you going to get through that thick skull of yours, huh?" Soshiro rasped out, thumb anchoring against the throbbing pulse point beneath your jaw in a subtly possessive brand. "Realize you're not invincible...and that some of us actually give a damn whether you make it through each rampage intact and breathing?"

You forgot to inhale entirely as he shifted infinitesimally closer on the mattress, until your rapidly thrumming chests were mere inches apart. The simmering intensity of his gaze left you reeling, dizzy in a way the sedatives couldn't account for as each panted breath filled your starving lungs with his dark, inebriating musk.

"Or is that exactly what gets you so worked up and reckless out there, pretty girl?" Soshiro continued in a hushed rasp bordering on a sinful purr that had you flushing all the way down to your toes. "Knowing once the dust settles...we'll be left alone to keep picking up wherever we left off that night? Just me...and my very own lil' daredevil to punish as I see fit..."

Molten desire crashed over you in a searing wave as Soshiro finished with a lingering lick of his full lips, staring down at your own parted ones hungrily. Before you could draw breath to whimper out a response, his palm suddenly splayed warm and possessive over the quivering flat of your abdomen beneath the sheets.

"I don't know how many times I've imagined putting you over my knee for that kind of discipline, sweet thing..." he husked out with liquid silk potency, sending an exquisite tremor racing over your form. "Or bending you right over whatever pile of rubble happens to be closest when the urge strikes...taking my belt to that perfect ass for being so goddamn foolish..."

You keened softly, a high needy sound barely pushing past the lump in your throat. Soshiro seemed to vibrate with answering tension in response, weight sinking further into the vee of your splayed thighs until his chest dragged deliciously against the hardened peaks of your nipples.

"Is that what you really want from me, baby girl?" he growled against the scorching sweep of your cheek, silken heat searing your inflamed senses. "To earn yourself one of my special...punishments at last?"

Your breath left you in a shuddering rush with Soshiro's mouth a hairsbreadth from capturing your own in a searing glide. His fingers twitched, clenching almost imperceptibly against the feverish plane of your stomach as if fighting not to fist the hospital gown and drag you flush against his firm, straining contours.

Soshiro's smoldering stare bored into you with the intensity of a supernova as his thumb rasped over your parted lips in a teasing caress. You instinctively strained toward the promise of his molten mouth, already addicted to that sinful heat despite having yet to indulge.

"Is this what you want?" he husked out in a low rasp that washed over your tingling nerve endings like the most exquisite temptation.

You managed the barest tremor of a nod, whimpering softly as his nose brushed the column of your straining throat in the barest of nuzzles. The rough caress of Soshiro's shadowed jawline ghosting over your hypersensitive skin made you shudder against him helplessly.

"You'll have to use your words, pretty girl," he growled against the thundering pulse leaping just beneath your jaw. "Tell me exactly how bad you need this..."

His tongue traced a blazing path over the hollow of your throat, laving the sweat-slick notch between your collarbones in one tantalizingly slow glide. You whined at the molten temptation, back arching on instinct to press your aching curves against the scorching weight of his powerful frame hovering so tauntingly near.

"Please..." you managed to rasp out desperately, hands fisting in the sheets with restraint. "Soshiro, please I need-- nnngh!"

The rest of your plea dissolved into a high, keening whimper as he sealed his velvet mouth over the rigid peak of your breast in a soul-searing clamp. Soshiro growled softly in evident satisfaction around the mouthful, the vibration ricocheting straight to your throbbing pussy in merciless rapture.

One calloused palm curved around the generous swell spilling free of your sheer gown, possessive and insistent as he laved broad swirls of his sinful tongue over your nipple. You thrashed against the mattress at the overwhelming onslaught of sensation, nails raking along his sculpted forearms in a frantic bid for leverage.

He took that as encouragement, tongue lashing and teeth scraping across your tit with alternating swipes of scorching pleasure and pinprick rapture until you keened unintelligibly. Only then did Soshiro finally release you with one last lingering suckle before dragging his mouth higher in a blazing path.

"Look at me," he snarled in a voice made to ravage. Your eyes flew open to meet the molten, blown crimson glare leveled at you from mere inches away. "Eyes on me when I finally claim this perfect fucking mouth..."

With a low, feral sound he sealed his lips over yours in an explosive crash that instantly stole what little oxygen remained in your lungs with bruising intensity. Soshiro instantly delved his questing tongue past the seam of your parted mouth to invade every slick corner in a deep, territorial glide that left you squirming and whimpering against him shamelessly.

He drank down every gasping, desperate sound greedily, mercilessly ravaging you with wicked swirls and flicks of his velvet muscle that set your world spinning on its axis. You writhed against Soshiro's sculpted body, desperate for any scrap of friction while his weight caged you in relentless captivity.

A shuddering eternity passed with only the filthy slick and harsh pants shared between your greedy mouths echoing off the stark walls. Until at last, Soshiro dragged his lips from yours with a strangled groan, leaving you chasing the connection deliriously as he pinned you with a look of naked, burning possession.

"That's it, sweetheart..." he rasped out in a tone made to scorch every inch of your fevered skin anew. "You just lie there and take your punishment nice and slow...make up for all those close calls when I didn't get the chance to show you how fucking gone I was over every reckless little stunt..."

His mouth crashed back over yours in a searing lay of pure dominance before you could whimper out a response. Soshiro instantly picked up where he'd left off - mapping out every slick crevice with his questing tongue until you shattered against his ruthless onslaught once more.

As the darkness swept in to claim your spiraling consciousness, one blazing truth remained etched into your overloaded synapses even as blissful oblivion swallowed you under its tide - that you would finally surrender everything to this virile, unbound creature's communion without reservation.

Over and over, for however long it took for Soshiro to assuage the ravenous need driving his merciless claiming and bestow the ruinous rapture you'd been so foolishly, recklessly courting all this time. Because nothing else could possibly sate the hunger howling through you both like the maddening call of a wild siren.

[ervotica]

Ik this isn’t part of the prompt but can u plz do a eclipse Jasper x human reader whenever she can feel her anxiety worsen or even a panic attack about to start Jasper uses his ability to calm her down (since he can manipulate emotions/moods) and he usually does it by talking to her and kissing her gently🥹😭

summary; jasper eases your anxiety and kisses away all your worries.

warnings; fem!reader, reader w anxiety, soft, soft!jasper, jasper uses his gift on reader but it’s sweet, pure fluff! no use of y/n

Jasper's rasping Southern lilt pulls you out of your haze; he can feel the rushing thrum of your pulse beneath your skin, the way you tense and burrow further into the comfort of the blanket that’s loosely draped over your shoulders. You're vacant, eyes glassy and unfocused despite the lively chatter of the Cullen house, the raucous booming of Emmett’s voice and Rosalie’s quiet scolding that follows as the rest of the family talk animatedly. This upcoming fight has everyone on edge and it’s evident in your stance, the way you curl up small on the couch and wring your fingers until they flush ruby.

"Hey, sugar," Jasper murmurs, a finger hooking over your cheek to draw your gaze to his own. It's a miracle he can stand to be so close to you now, almost desensitised to your scent, the warmth of your touch, the ravenous hunger that claws at his throat when you're close. Your eyes crinkle at the corners, carving lines into the soft skin when your eyes meet his.

"Hey, Jas."

His icy lips are on your cheek and you soak up his touch, resisting the urge to lean into it as you really want to, still cautious of overwhelming him. The sense of calm that washes over you feels artificial, the only indicator that the feeling isn’t quite your own, but rather the emotion that Jasper is weaving into your frazzled nerves as the anxiety untangles like yarn and dissipates. The crushing thunderstorm is reduced to small, sweeping waves that lap at the corners of your mind but no longer engulf it.

You accept the feeling regardless of its origin, your muscles uncoiling as Jasper strokes slow lines over your cheekbone. Your eyes track the swish of his blond tresses when his head dips further, the bridge of his nose pressed to your cheek, and one golden eye that watches you right back.

His mouth ventures to the corner of your lips and you feel the imprint of his smile as you giggle and your features scrunch with unbridled adoration. It’s a rare display of such emboldened affection from him and you’ll be damned if you don’t wring him for every ounce whilst he’s willing to offer it.

All background noise melts away when he catches your lips between his own. You gasp a sweet little noise into his mouth and he swallows it greedily; the feel of his cold fingers on your cheek brands you, leaving a lasting tingle that reminds you that you’re his and his only. He nips at your bottom lip, the ghost of a laugh echoing against your mouth when you whine and cant your body towards his, wanting, needing, to be close. His forehead stays anchored to your own when he draws himself away.

"You’re beautiful," he murmurs. "My beautiful girl."

The cadence of his voice alone is enough to have you going soft and pliant in his grasp, tired eyes watching his every move as he nudges your chin upwards and presses another gentle peck to your mouth.

"Everything’s gonna be jus’ fine, okay?" he coos, gathering you up and into his arms in a way that has you biting your lip to suppress a whimper. "And then we’ll have forever, my darlin’."

"You promise?" He almost laughs at your question, but he hears the warble in your voice, feels the tightening of your fingers against the sleeve of his shirt, and he knows you need the reassurance. Something white-hot lights in his chest, fondness and something deep and primal all mixed into one— the urge to protect you always, no matter the cost, even if the world burns to ashes. He’ll protect you always.

"I promise." He sits back until you’re tucked beneath his arm, pushing stray curls out of your face as you nestle into the crook of his armpit. "Why don’t you sleep for a little while? You need it."

Suddenly the ruckus of the Cullen house dulls in your ears, your only focus on the blond you’re tucked against, his fingers curling around the blanket to pull it flush to your frame. The last thing you register is his arms tightening around you as you doze, and an arm hiking you into his lap when you go limp against him.

[queenofterrasen418]

Cruel Fates (Part 4- Final)

Pairing: Azriel x f!Reader, little Eris x f!Reader

Summary: Azriel is your mate but only you know it. You are very aware that he has eyes for someone else and thus you decide not to hide it forever. After all, what could go wrong right?

Warnings: Angst (Not the usual kind), heartbreak, bad decision-making by the reader (personally, at least.)

5.3K words

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

You’re not nervous, not even the tiniest. It was not like there was any room to be so because today was the Midnight Solistice ball. It has been a fortnight since you wrote that letter to Eris, he had sent one back confirming his attendance. When you told the rest of the inner court of your decision things had gone… well it went as you expected. Rhys supported your decision while Feyre was disappointed. Amren gave you a look that seemed to say ‘Is that so?’ to which you just gave a firm nod. Cassian had been less vocal, but the silent disapproval in his stance spoke volumes and when you looked for Mor, she merely raised an eyebrow, an unreadable expression on his face. As for Azriel, he was sent out on a mission a few days back so thankfully you escaped from the awkwardness that seemed to linger wherever your path crossed.

But today, none of that mattered. Tonight, the ball was about more than just diplomacy or expectations; it was a chance to make your mark, to reclaim a piece of yourself that had been lost in the shuffle of responsibilities and politics. The Midnight Solstice ball, with its glimmering chandeliers and whispering silk curtains, was the perfect backdrop for what you hoped would be a turning point.

You glanced at your reflection in the mirror. The gown, a deep, rich blood red with intricate gold embroidery that mimicked the flickering embers of a fire, hugged your figure perfectly. A gold and ruby tiara sat atop your head, the gemstones catching the light and casting a warm glow over your skin. Your hair, elegantly pinned back, let the tiara shine like a crown of flames. You were a vision of grace and strength, the embodiment of confidence you needed to exude tonight.

Just as you reached the ballroom in Hewn City, the clock struck the hour of midnight, the anticipation crackled in the air. The first notes of the orchestra began to play, a soft and enchanting melody that set the mood for the evening. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself for what was to come. Eris would be arriving soon, and with him, a new chapter of intrigue and possibility.

You joined the rest of the court at the dias standing beside Cassian. As much as you hated it your eyes searched for Azriel as soon as you set foot in here but he was nowhere to be found.

Rhys must have noticed you searching because his voice softly whispered in your her, “He'll arrive a little late.”

Stars, you hated waiting. It had been only a few minutes before the giant doors opened to reveal the Autumn Prince prowling towards you like a predator but it felt like an eternity had passed.

In the periphery of your eyes, you noticed the movement of smokey Shadows to know Azriel was behind you.

Eris approached with that ever-present smirk, his amber eyes gleaming with mischief as he bowed slightly, offering his hand. “I must admit, you wear the autumn colours well, Y/N, you look glorious. Careful—if you keep looking this tempting, I might forget we're here to talk business.”

He straightened, his gaze flickering over the ruby tiara, lingering as though assessing not just her appearance, but her entire being. “Though I’m beginning to think this alliance will be far more enjoyable than I first anticipated.”

You couldn’t help but smile at that, “Hello to you too, Prince.”

The smile Eris gave you in reply could only be described as… sweet. Odd, but lovely. He began to greet the rest of the court but that was more tense than a tightrope. No surprise there.

The music played softly in the background, and your eyes drifted to the ballroom, watching the swirl of colours and movement before you. The anticipation had been building all evening, and though you had expected it, the flutter of nerves in your chest hadn’t entirely subsided.

Then, your vision shifted back to Eris. His amber eyes gleamed as his focus locked on you, but something about his expression was softer than you had anticipated. He extended his hands towards you, his gaze unwavering.

“Dance with me,” Eris said, his voice quieter than usual. There was no teasing, no smirk—just a simple request.

For a brief moment, you hesitated. It wasn’t because you didn’t want to—there was a pull between you, undeniable and magnetic—but because stepping onto that dance floor felt like crossing a threshold you weren’t sure you were ready for. You were here for diplomacy, for alliances, and yet, the weight of what this dance might mean had your heart beating faster than you liked to admit. You also took note of the heavy silence around you, the inner court was observing every single interaction, and you would indeed give anything to get away from this awkwardness too.

So despite the million reasons not to, you took his hand anyway. His fingers were warm against your skin, steady and sure, and as he led you onto the floor, you reminded yourself to breathe. The room around you seemed to quiet, the conversations and glances fading into the background, though you were keenly aware of the eyes that followed your every move.

The music shifted to something slower, more intimate. Eris’s hand settled at your waist, his other holding yours gently, and though his grip was firm, there was a subtle hesitation in how he held you, as though giving you the chance to step back if you wanted. But you didn’t.

“I wasn’t sure you’d even consider agreeing to this,” Eris said, his voice just above a whisper as he guided you into the first steps of the dance.

You glanced up at him, your eyes meeting his, searching for any sign of the usual arrogance. But there was none. Instead, there was something almost uncertain, like he, too, was navigating unfamiliar ground. The urge to use your powers to make sure you were right about your assumptions was tempting but tonight you refused to use them. Whatever relationship you are about to form with Eris heavily depends on trust and your powers would only be an invasion of that.

“Neither was I,” you admitted, your tone softer than you intended. Your steps were fluid, your bodies moving in sync, but you couldn’t shake the quiet wariness that lingered at the edges of your mind. This felt too personal, too close for something that was supposed to be about strategy. A part of you inside, you realised, did not mind it. There is no harm in genuinely enjoying each other’s company, right? “But we’re here.”

He gave a slight nod, his gaze not leaving yours. “We are.”

For a few moments, the only sound was the music and the soft rustle of your movements. The way Eris moved with you, not leading too aggressively but not holding back either, felt like a delicate balance—one that required trust. And that trust was what made you hesitate, even as you followed his lead.

“You’re different than I expected,” you said quietly, your voice barely carrying over the music.

Eris raised an eyebrow, amusement filled his gaze, but the small smile on his lips didn’t hold its usual edge. “Different, how?”

You bit your lip, searching for the right words. “Less… calculated,” you said after a moment. “More… real.”

He chuckled softly, though it wasn’t mocking. “Is that a compliment or an insult?”

“I’m not sure yet,” you replied, the hint of a smile tugging at your lips despite the uncertainty in your heart. “But it’s unexpected.”

Eris’s expression shifted, something thoughtful passing over his features. “I suppose I’m full of surprises, then.”

The dance carried on, each step a little more sure than the last, the tension between you slowly dissolving into something else—something neither of you had anticipated. But even as the chemistry between you became palpable, there was still a part of you that remained guarded, your thoughts caught between what you were feeling and what this meant for everything else.

“You’re still hesitating,” Eris said after a beat, his voice low, though there was no judgment in his tone. “I can feel it.”

Your breath caught for a second, surprised by how easily he read you. But then, this was Eris—sharp, perceptive, always watching. “I’m not sure what to make of this,” you admitted softly. “Of us.”

His grip on your waist tightened slightly, just enough to ground you. “Neither am I,” he said quietly. “But maybe that’s part of it.”

The honesty in his voice startled you, and for a moment, you faltered in your steps. He caught you without hesitation, his hand steadying you as he pulled you back into the rhythm of the dance. His scent filled you as you got close to him again, crackling fire, smoky with a surprising touch of sweetness and a cosy blend of spices. It was intoxicating. His eyes searched yours, as though he was trying to figure out what you were thinking, trying to piece together the puzzle that was you.

“You don’t need to give me an answer tonight, you know?” Eris said softly, his thumb brushing against the back of your hand in a barely-there gesture. “Sometimes it’s okay not to know.”

The simplicity of his words made something in your chest loosen, even if just a little. You weren’t sure how much you trusted him yet, or what this dance would mean for the future, but in this moment, the weight of your decisions seemed to lighten.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you murmured, your voice quieter than before.

The music slowed, signalling the end of the dance, and as you pulled away, you noticed the lingering warmth of his hand in yours. You didn’t say anything else, and neither did he. There was no need for more words, not yet. But in the stillness that followed, with Eris watching you, not as a prince or a suitor, but as someone trying to understand you, you realized something important:

You weren’t entirely sure what was happening between you, but whatever it was, it wasn’t a game. Not anymore.

Azriel’s POV

Azriel watched from the shadows, his chest tightening with each passing second as you and Eris glided across the dance floor. The elegant way your bodies moved together was undeniable, but it was the way you smiled, that soft, hesitant smile, that made something in him twist uncomfortably. He couldn’t explain the feeling gnawing at him, but he knew one thing: this wasn’t just about diplomacy.

It was more than that.

He had been watching you for weeks now, ever since you’d first spoken to him at a meeting that seemed so insignificant at the time. But now, in this dimly lit ballroom, he could recall every detail of those moments, ever since you both first met, like a collection of memories he hadn’t even realized he’d stored away. Once he was aware of its existence he couldn’t stop noticing every little thing about you.

It started small. At first, he noticed how you carried yourself—calm and composed, yet always with a hint of mischief in your eyes. He remembered how you’d touch your lips absentmindedly when you were lost in thought or how you’d tuck a stray hair behind your ear without thinking twice about it. He’d caught himself staring more than once, admiring the little things about you—the delicate way you handled a blade, the way you always seemed to know when someone needed a kind word or a sharp one. And, by the mother, the times you wielded your powers had to be his favourite, the most lethal poisons indeed did come in the prettiest forms.

But then there were other moments—deeper, quieter ones. Like when you stood beside him, your shoulder brushing his for the briefest second, and he’d felt something stir within him, something he couldn’t name. Or the way you’d throw him a fleeting glance during those Inner Court meetings, where your eyes would catch his for just a second longer than necessary, and he’d be left wondering what lay beneath that look.

He never thought much of it at the time. It was all so subtle, so easy to ignore until it wasn’t.

He remembered one particular evening, only a week ago, when you had laughed at something Feyre had said during dinner. That laugh—it was rare to hear you laugh like that, full and genuine—and it had struck him in a way that made his chest feel uncomfortably tight. He’d found himself watching you for the rest of the evening, his attention constantly drifting toward you, but he brushed it off as nothing more than curiosity.

But now, watching you dance with Eris, all those subtle moments came crashing down on him. The way he’d been noticing the smallest things about you, how he’d been admiring them without truly registering why. How his thoughts would drift to you even when you weren’t in the room, and how lately, he found himself lingering near you whenever he could as if drawn by something he couldn’t quite grasp.

It wasn’t until now—until he saw you in someone else’s arms—that the realization hit him with the force of a tidal wave.

He was falling for you. Maybe he had been for a while. He didn’t even know when it started, but it had crept up on him, subtle and silent like his shadows.

And now, seeing you with Eris, something primal inside him screamed at the thought of losing you, of letting someone else see those small, beautiful things about you that he had come to cherish in secret.

Azriel’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, the tension rolling through his body like a storm. He couldn’t let this happen. Not without speaking to you. Not without making you rethink whatever it was you were about to do.

Y/N’s POV

As the music quieted, Eris kept your hand in his, guiding you away from the centre of the ballroom. There was a quiet elegance to your movements, a shared understanding that you both needed space from the watching eyes, if only for a moment. Together, you wandered aimlessly, threading your way through clusters of guests without a destination in mind. It wasn’t uncomfortable—more like the kind of aimlessness that made sense, where words weren’t always necessary.

Eris tilted his head toward you, a playful gleam lighting his amber eyes. “I have to admit,” he began, his voice low but teasing, “this might be the first ball where I’m not the sole subject of the whispers.”

You glanced up at him with a smirk, your lips curving just enough to show your amusement. “Oh, don’t pretend you don’t live for the scandal. You practically swim in it.”

He chuckled softly. “I’d never deny it. But tonight’s gossip is far juicier than I’d anticipated.”

That flicker of curiosity sparked to life inside you. “Go on, then. Don’t hold out on me.”

Eris leaned in just a bit closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur. “Word around the ballroom is that Lady Soralyn’s sudden disappearance from her estate last week wasn’t for the usual reasons.”

You raised a brow, intrigued. “Usual reasons? You mean like her terrible taste in lovers?”

His grin was wicked. “Oh, it’s much worse this time. She’s apparently been caught in a rather… delicate situation with Tarquin’s advisors, yes, advisors, in plural”

Your eyes widened as you barely held back a laugh. “No. She wouldn’t.”

“Oh, she would,” he replied, his gaze gleaming with mischief. “But that’s not even the best part. The advisors? Married. Their wives showed up mid-rendezvous.”

You couldn’t help it—you laughed softly, your hand coming up to cover your mouth. “How do you always manage to be privy to the worst scandals?”

Eris shrugged, that self-satisfied smirk dancing on his lips. “What can I say? People like to talk when they think no one’s listening. I simply… listen better than most.”

“Or people just assume you’re too arrogant to care,” you teased back, your tone light.

“Ah, but that’s the trick. Let them think what they want.” He paused, his grin taking on a wicked edge. “Besides, it’s always the ones who look disinterested who end up knowing everything.”

You shook your head, still chuckling at the absurdity of it all. “You must have enough blackmail material on half of Prythian by now.”

“More than half, if we’re being honest,” he replied smoothly, his playful tone fading into something more thoughtful. 

For a while, you walked in comfortable silence, the sounds of the ballroom fading into the background. It was nice, the quiet between you, thick with shared understanding but without the need to fill the space with words. 

“I have to admit, Y/N,” he began, breaking the silence, glancing at her with that ever-present smirk, “there are some rather interesting rumours swirling around about you.”

You tilted your head, intrigued but wary. “Oh? I’m sure they’re all incredibly dignified and respectful.”

Eris let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Oh, very. One of the rumours is that you’re the one to fear more than anyone in your court. They speak of how you can practically stop a person’s heart with a look, maybe even… slow their pulse to a crawl.”

You scoffed lightly, but there was a trace of amusement in your voice. “I can’t help it if people are easily intimidated.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Easily? Y/N, I’ve seen battle-hardened generals flinch when you enter a room.”

“Well,” you shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant, though the flicker of a smile betrayed you, “alright, I have nothing to say to that.”

“Exactly.” Eris teased, but then his expression softened into something more genuine. “Though, truth be told, it’s what made me curious about you in the first place.”

You glanced up at him, taken aback. “Curious?”

Eris nodded, his amber eyes lingering on hers. “While others were whispering in fear, I wondered if there wasn’t more to the story. Something they were too blind or too intimidated to see.” His voice lowered, holding a trace of warmth that caught her off guard. “Turns out, I was right.”

You simply blinked, momentarily lost for words, the vulnerability in his tone throwing her slightly off balance. But Eris, never one to let a moment linger too long, cleared his throat and switched to a lighter tone.

Of course, there’s one piece of gossip about you that’s been making the rounds lately—something very scandalous.”

You shot him a wary look, already preparing for whatever teasing remark he was about to throw her way. “Oh? And here I thought I’d been behaving.”

Eris chuckled, low and dangerous. “Apparently, at a certain high-society dinner a few months back, there was a rather loud—and, shall we say, descriptive—comment made about you.”

A frown formed on your face, curiosity piqued despite the sinking feeling in your stomach. “Descriptive? Of what, exactly?”

Eris leaned in, his voice dropping into a mock whisper as he delivered the punchline. “Some lord from the Dawn Court—inebriated beyond saving, of course—remarked that he had it on good authority that you could literally make a man drop dead between the sheets. And not literally, if you catch my drift.”

Your mouth dropped open, blood rushing to your face, flushing with embarrassment. “You’re joking.”

“Dead serious.” Eris grinned wickedly, savouring the look of horror that spread across your face. “He claimed you had some very specific talents when it came to manipulating…certain bodily functions.”

You groaned, running a hand over your face as if to hide from the mortifying thought. “Stars, please tell me you’re making this up.”

“Wish I was.” Eris smirked, clearly enjoying her discomfort. “The entire room fell silent. A few looked horrified, but others were—let’s say—intrigued. I distinctly remember someone asking if there were any volunteers for you to demonstrate your ‘gifts’ after dinner.”

You swatted his arm in exasperation, mortified. “You’re disgusting, Eris.”

He laughed, completely unbothered. “I’m disgusting? You should’ve seen the way half the room was staring at you afterwards. They were probably wondering if they’d survive the night in your bed or if they’d drop dead with a smile on their face.”

Y/N shot him a glare, though she couldn’t stop the embarrassed laugh that slipped out. “I can’t believe people talk about me like that. How vulgar. Though that is a nice idea, never tried that before.”

Eris’s eyes darkened at that comment, not giving him a chance to reply to that you sighed, shaking your head in disbelief. “Well, I’m thrilled to know I’m the subject of such flattering gossip.”

Eris caught on and just smirked, a spark of admiration shining beneath his teasing gaze. “You might hate it, but it’s true. They don’t know what to make of you, Y/N. They’re either terrified of you or—”

“—or want to sleep with me, apparently,” she cut in, her tone dry.

Eris chuckled again, but this time there was a note of sincerity in his voice. “Some of us fall into neither category, you know? Not that I’ll object to the latter but only if you are up to it .”

Your teasing expression softened slightly as you glanced up at him, sensing something deeper beneath the banter. But before you could respond, a familiar shadowy presence loomed behind.

Azriel.

He stepped forward, his gaze sharp and focused, cutting through the playful atmosphere like a knife. “Y/N,” he said quietly, his voice steady but tense. “We need to talk.”

His expression was calm, but his hazel eyes were burning with something else—something you hadn’t seen before. The sight of him so close, after days of him being absent, sent your heart into overdrive.

You glanced at Eris, who raised an eyebrow but stepped back graciously. “I’ll wait for you by the balcony,” he said smoothly, leaving you and Azriel alone in the crowd.

Azriel wasted no time, pulling you aside to a quieter corner of the room. His grip on your arm was firm, his shadows swirling anxiously around his feet.

“Azriel, what—?”

“Why are you doing this?” His voice was low, almost a growl. “Why are you letting him... How are you so sure that you don’t have a mate? Did he die? Is that it?”

The shock hit you like a physical blow. You had never seen Azriel this... shaken. The calm, collected Spymaster seemed to be unravelling before you. “Azriel, what are you talking about?”

His eyes flicked over your face, searching for something—an answer, a sign, anything. “Y/N, I know what I’m saying sounds ridiculous. But you can’t go through with this. I can’t let you marry him.”

You blinked, taken aback. “Yes, I do have a mate and he is very much alive, Azriel.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. Azriel’s expression shifted, confusion and something darker clouding his features. “Then why are you doing this? Why are you... with Eris?”

You couldn’t help but raise your voice, “Because mating bonds are complicated! Trust me, my mate isn’t interested. The cauldron makes mistakes.” 

“Y/n, rejecting a mating bond is so painful, it’s worse than death.” He says in a matter-of-fact tone.

You felt a flicker of something like hope stir inside you, but it was quickly drowned out by the weight of reality. “Why does it matter to you, Azriel?” you asked softly. “Why are you so bothered by this?”

His response was immediate, but it wasn’t what you wanted to hear. “Eris isn’t good enough for you.”

A bitter laugh escaped your lips. Of course. Of course, it would be about Eris, not about him realising he was your mate. You stepped back, the disappointment settling like a stone in your chest.

“I need to go,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “Eris is waiting for me.”

You found Eris on the balcony, staring out into the night. He turned when you approached, his smirk softening into something more genuine.

“Well?” he asked, his tone light but his eyes searching yours.

“I’ve been thinking,” you began, leaning against the railing. “Prythian needs this. And maybe... maybe I do, too.”

Eris’s brow lifted, but the teasing was gone from his expression. “You’re really considering it, then?”

You nodded, exhaling softly. “We both know this alliance is necessary. And... who knows? Maybe we’ll be good for each other.”

Eris studied you for a long moment before stepping closer, his hand resting over yours on the railing. “I never thought I’d hear you say that. But... I’m glad.”

You exchanged a look, one filled with an understanding that ran deeper than words. It wasn’t love, but it was something. And maybe that was enough.

“I accept your proposal,” you said softly.

The ceremony was held later that evening, under the cover of moonlight at a temple just beyond the court. Everything was ready—the vows, the magic that would bind you and Eris together in an alliance sealed by more than just words.

But as the moment to seal the bond drew closer, you felt it. A  pull deep within your chest.

Azriel stormed into the temple, his wings outstretched, his shadows wild around him. His eyes locked onto you, fury and desperation swirling within them.

“You said your mate wasn’t interested,” he ground out, his voice like shattered glass. “Well, I am fucking interested.”

Time seemed to stop.

Azriel’s voice rose, a tremor in his tone. “I wish the bond had snapped earlier, before all this. But I’ll be damned if I watch you marry another male when I’m standing right here.”

The world seemed to tilt beneath your feet as Azriel’s words hung in the air. You stared at him, unable to breathe, unable to move. His wings, the embodiment of his fury, flared behind him as his gaze bore into you, wild and unrelenting. He was waiting for you to say something, to react, but your mind was spinning.

You heard Eris shift beside you, but your eyes were still locked on Azriel’s. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be. After all this time, after all the signals you thought you had misread, he was standing here, confessing... what? That he was your mate? That he had known?

“I... I don’t understand,” you finally managed to choke out, your voice trembling.

Azriel took a step closer, his shadows curling anxiously around his feet. “The bond, Y/N. It snapped. Just now. I didn’t know... I didn’t realize... but I can’t let this happen. I can’t let you marry him.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest, the weight of everything pressing down on you, making it hard to think. Your mate. Azriel was your mate. A part of you wanted to feel relief, to feel joy, but all you could feel was fear. Fear for Prythian, fear for the consequences this revelation would bring.

“You said your mate wasn’t interested,” Azriel repeated, his voice breaking slightly. “But I am. I’ve always been. And now that I know... I can’t lose you.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came. Instead, your eyes flickered to Eris. He stood there, expression unreadable, though his amber eyes held a strange mix of emotions. There was no anger, no fury—just a quiet understanding, and perhaps a trace of sadness.

“I have to do this,” you whispered, more to yourself than to Azriel.

“No,” Azriel said, his voice hot, desperate. “No, Y/N. Fuck Prythian, fuck this alliance. I don’t care if the entire world burns down—none of it matters if it means losing you.”

The force of his words knocked the air out of your lungs, and before you could stop yourself, you were surging forward, crashing into him. His arms were around you in an instant, pulling you close, and his lips met yours in a kiss that was all fire and fury and desperation. It was as if the world had indeed stopped, and at that moment, all that mattered was the feeling of his mouth on yours, the taste of him, the bond snapping into place so forcefully that it left you both breathless.

When you finally broke apart, you stared up at him, your heart racing. This... this was real. The bond was real.

But as the haze of the kiss faded, reality came crashing back in. You could feel the weight of the court’s eyes on you, feel Eris’s presence behind you. Slowly, you turned to face him.

Eris stood tall, his expression carefully neutral, but there was no mistaking the sadness in his gaze. He let out a soft breath, his lips quirking into a wry smile. “Well... I’ll be damned.”

You took a step toward him, guilt twisting in your chest. “Eris, I am so sorry—”

He held up a hand, cutting you off gently. “Don’t. You don’t need to apologize. I knew something was off, even if I didn’t want to admit it. I just... I had hoped, for once, that I could have something for myself.”

Your throat tightened as you watched him. He was still so composed, still so regal, but there was a depth of pain in his eyes that made your heartache.

“I saw a future with you,” Eris continued, his voice quiet. “A good one. Even now, I selfishly wish that Azriel would have realized his bond too late, but...” He shook his head, giving you a sad, lopsided smile. “But  I want you to be happy and clearly, you are.”

You took another step closer, your heart aching with the weight of what could have been. “I’m sorry, Eris. I never wanted this to happen... not like this.”

He nodded, the smile still lingering on his lips, though it was tinged with bitterness. “I know. But it’s not your fault. Mating bonds work in strange ways.” His eyes flicked to Azriel, who was watching the exchange with a guarded expression. “Leave it to the Illyrians to always steal my bride.”

The comment was meant to be lighthearted, but the pain laced in his tone was unmistakable. And then, with a final glance at you, Eris gave a small, respectful bow. “Maybe in another lifetime,” he murmured, before winnowing away, leaving you standing there with a strange emptiness in your chest.

The court had dispersed by the time you and Azriel returned to your apartment, the weight of the night settling over you both. The silence was thick between you, the bond still thrumming with energy, still raw and new.

Azriel was the first to break it, his voice soft but full of unspoken emotion. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You met his gaze, your heart aching. “Because I didn’t think... I didn’t think you’d want this. You’ve always been so close to Elain, and I didn’t want to come between that.”

A flicker of something dark passed over his features. “Elain and I... that was never real. It was just... a projection, a fantasy of something I thought I wanted. But you...” His voice softened, his fingers brushing against your cheek. “You are what’s real. And I was too blind to see it.”

Your breath hitched at the tenderness in his touch, the intensity in his eyes. “Azriel...”

“I love you,” he said, the words falling from his lips like a vow. “I love you, Y/N. I have for a long time, and I’m not going to waste another second.”

You surged forward, capturing his lips in a kiss that was softer this time, but no less powerful. The bond flared between you, stronger now, more certain, and as you melted into each other, you knew—this was where you were meant to be.

The rest of the night was spent in a blur of whispered confessions, stolen kisses, and the quiet realization that, despite everything, this was your future.

Azriel was your future.

And as the stars twinkled outside your window, you knew you wouldn’t have it any other way.

A little note from me, kind of an acknowledgement too:

First and foremost, I am so sorry for taking this long to finish this. Apparently thinking of the story alone isn't enough. I can't believe I actually finished it, despite it being short (I don't think these characters could handle any more angst).

Thank you for all the love I've gotten for this fic, especially because this is the first fic I've made public. It means so much to me!!

And finally, my thoughts on Y/n and how the story ended.

This is a fanfic I've been thinking of ever since I read the ACOTAR series and it has been years since then. So yeah, I am a bit disappointed to see the reader making shitty, impulsive decisions, I am sorry if it gave you the ick.

I fell for Eris even more if that was even possible while writing this part. He deserves everything and more. My poor baby, I am so sorry for what I did to you. I wish I could make it better, I actually thought of making Y/n use her powers to lessen Eris's pain or at least make it a bit more tolerable but I felt it would be wrong to him.

I really hoped I could write an ending where Eris would not be hurt but I don't think this story could end in any other way. A tragedy, really. Eris and Y/n would have been the bestest of friends before anything. I'd like to believe it could still happen, platonically at least.

Anyway, I'll leave this to you now, again, thank you so much for reading!!

Taglist: @sidthedollface2,  @a-courtof-azriel,  @whyonearthisyourusernamethi-blog ,  @acourtofsmutandstarlight ,  @katherinejess , @landofpetrichor , @isa1b2h3 , @anuttellaa , @cherryinsalemverse , @i-am-infinite , @myromanempiree , @sheblogs , @impossibelle , @fuckthatfeeling , @lilah-asteria , @rinpoststhings , @rcarbo1 , @t0uch-starved-h0e , @olive-main , @crossfandomslut , @melmo567 , @crazylokonugget , @sinfully-yoursss , @oucereeng , @annedub , @evangeline-xo , @sspookz , @thecraziestcrayon , @tele86 , @mal-adaptive-dreams , @mybestfriendmademe , @hannzoaks , @x1305 , @vanserrasimp , @whyshouldihaveanam3 , @smutslut05, @theravenphoenix26 , @moonlwghts , @noisyinfluencerstrawberry , @saltedcoffeescotch , @laughterafter , @lazypostfandomer , @weekendlusting , @feiwelinchen, @ivy-34 , @littlepippilongstocking , @iluvyewman-blog , @badgerstorms-art , @agirlwithwifiandalaptop , @the1harmony , @mp-littlebit , @xtreme-shipper , @knittedchapters

[yung-bruhh]

but im still Shinin’

baby girl WILDIN’

catch me ridin’ by with that look in my eyeee😈

[comatosebunny09]

Inspired by @sserpente’s The Sunwalker’s Gift.

Imagine being a shopkeeper, selling heirlooms and antiques in a quaint mom-and-pop shop.

Business is incredibly slow. You find yourself flipping through the worn, deckled pages of a book, your chin cradled in your palm. There is nary a customer in sight. Not since that new, mainstream jewelry store popped up down the street.

You’re about to close up shop early to enjoy what’s left of the day—it’s lovely outside. Too pretty to be tucked between these browning walls. But the jangle of the store’s bell lures your attention to the door.

Finally.

You look up as you prepare to greet the store’s newest occupant. But you forget how to talk—forget how to breathe—rooted to the floor like a basilisk has petrified you.

He’s ethereal amid the sunbeams pouring into your tiny store. All wintry-skinned, thin, and tall, dark lenses perched on his sharp nose. Rounded cheeks, petal-pink lips, and foxlike features.

His hair is what entrances you. Swaying like snowflakes in the breeze, and you wonder if it’s as soft as the snow it resembles. Vaguely, you register it sifting through your fingers, smell it exuding the faintest hints of rosemary and firewood.

The stranger surveys your shop, one hand tucked in his pants pocket, the other holding onto an oversized coat. Even his stance is princely. Nothing captures his attention for too long as he peruses through your wares, feigning interest in your rickety things.

You suddenly feel insecure; small—he strikes a picturesque figure amid the dusty antiques lining your shelves. The store across the way would probably suit someone so devastatingly beautiful better.

Nevertheless, you remember how to speak. Square your shoulders, plastering on your most welcoming grin despite your nerves exploding like solar flares beneath your skin.

After smoothing out the wrinkles of your attire, you offer the customer a warm, rehearsed “Welcome!”

He perks up at the sound of your voice. Lips twitch into a half smile, silver brows lifting slightly. Your heart hiccups at the sight.

The stranger saunters towards the counter, carrying with him the scent of bergamot and brushed sage. It’s a homely scent. Somehow nostalgic as he leans towards you, tilting his shades down to ingest you with eyes the color of smoldering coals.

“Good afternoon, love,” he drawls, his accent thick with regality. The purr of it causes your body to flood with warmth. It’s almost dizzying, the ground shifting beneath your feet.

You swallow, your throat thickening with your voice. “What brings you in today?”

“Actually.” He looks thoughtful, a long finger tapping his chin. Suddenly, he snaps his fingers like all the world’s secrets bare themselves to him. “Maybe you can help me with something.”

You watch with bated breath whilst the stranger retrieves something from his coat pocket. It catches in the sunlight. Glints a pretty ruby red as he places it on the display counter with a resounding clack.

“I’ve been trying to part ways with the damned thing for ages. Yet somehow, it always finds its way back to me.” His gaze is far off for the barest of seconds before he replaces it with a nonchalant shrug, waggling his hand dismissively. “It’s long since served its purpose. An antique, if you will. I wondered how much it would go for if it still holds any value.”

He speaks of it so contemptuously. As if it’s been a burden to carry all this time. But it’s beautiful in its simplicity. Tarnished gold, carved with intricate runes you can’t quite decipher. It houses a gorgeous crimson stone that seems to hum and swirl with energy—with power. Perhaps it’s a trick of the light or your nerves causing you to hallucinate.

You’re delicate as you hold it against the sun’s rays, further studying its design. In your peripheral, you capture the stranger’s eyes, regarding you with something you can’t quite place. Disdain? Curiosity? Fondness? Whatever it is, it unnerves you. Makes your mouth fill with sand as you clutch the ring in your palm, intending to scrutinize it some more in the back. It radiates against your flesh despite it being so frigid.

“I’ll have to take a more thorough look at it,” you conclude, masking your shakiness. You muster another smile. “Would you like some tea in the meantime? It may take a while to appraise it properly.”

“No thank you, darling,” replies the fair-skinned stranger, leaning against your counter in an easy slouch. His smirk is back, boasting what you mistake for a fang, peeking through the plushness of his lips. “Never had a taste for the stuff.”

“Coffee your thing?”

“Gods no.”

“Water?”

He waves you off with a quiet scoff, venturing away to prod and examine the other little trinkets in your shop.

“Take all the time you need, love. I’ve nothing but time to spare. And, by the looks of it, so do you.” He eyes you over his shoulder with mirth gracing his countenance. A flash of affection colors his gaze before he busies himself again.

You huff a laugh at his peculiar mannerisms, disappearing behind the curtain of the back room to fetch your jewelers loupe. All the while, your mind swims with wistfulness.

You can't help but feel like the handsome stranger who’d fatefully wandered into your shop is watching you, burrowing deep into your soul, even through the thick veil of your curtain.

masterlist

[alt-vera]

— cigarettes out the window ⁀➷

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every night joel miller’s neighbour smokes cigarettes out her window, and every night he watches her do it.

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♡ | joel miller | 1.4k | ❛ cigarettes out the window - TV girl ❜

warnings: smoking. mentions of parental death. soft!joel miller. praise. fingering. piv sex. cockwarming. established age gap. mdni.

❝ but she never really quits, she’d just say she did ❞

▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁

JOEL ONLY EVER SAW HER AT NIGHT.

　The moon would shine brightly over the QZ, reflecting off posted signs and apartment windows as the streets quietly hummed through the late hours, desperate to sleep. There she would be, a girl hanging out her window with small puffs of a smoke wafting out of her mouth, cigarette lit and resting between her fingers like a ruby ring.

　There was only an alleyway separating their buildings. Close enough to hear her sighs but never to touch her youthfully tired face. Joel found a simple pleasure in watching his neighbour smoke as her eyes watched the street beside them buzz with hidden life, rowdy kids sneaking home, out past curfew and desperate not to be caught by FEDRA.

　He didn’t know her name, and didn’t care to. There was something just so oddly serene about how carelessly she rested her elbows in her window sill, and how her smoke would blur the stars and paint the night sky with a temporary cloud. He wondered how she got the cigarettes, a seemingly endless supply.

　He didn’t find out until she became a customer of his.

　Apparently whoever she’d been trading with before had been caught, and so she’d found a new dealer through word of mouth. That dealer was none other than Joel Miller.

　You’d never come to him for anything other than cigarettes. Never pills, or booze, or any other amenities he had stockpiled. Only those thin sticks off nicotine.

　Somehow your relationship had changed from retailing to romance, and Joel often found himself tangled up in your sheets. He’d wake up in the middle of the night to air nipping at his bare skin, and he’d look to find you with your upper body out the window, smoke curling around you in a tobacco-smelling aura.

　He’d watch you stand there for an hour, sometimes longer, before you’d brush your teeth quietly and then crawl back into bed with him. Despite your best efforts, the stench of smoulder would remain, lingering on your tee as you snuggled into his warm body. He’d inhale it as you pressed into him, enjoying the smell of it. The smell of you.

　You always promised him you’d quit, but those words became more empty the more Joel heard them.

　One night in particular, he crawled out of bed to wrap his arms around you as you took your clockwork stance at the window. Your cigarette glowed between your fingers as you inhaled, puffing out the smog.

　“Why’re you up, darlin’?” He questioned softly, nose nestled deep into your hair.

　“Can’t sleep,” You mumbled in reply, goosebumps gracing your bare arms from the cool summer air. You ignored the shiver crawling through your body.

　“It’s cold,” He murmured back, his hands coming to rub your arms in an attempt to warm you up. “Why don’t you come back to bed?”

　“I will in a minute,” You replied softly, eyes finally turning to meet his. He could see the well of tears in your eyes, and his brow furrowed.

　“Darlin’, what’sa matter?” He questioned tenderly, his own eyes swelling with worry. Joel was a rough man, but in moments like these his old-self broke through. The self that cared deeply for the ones he loved. The self that lived proudly before the world went to hell.

　“Nothing,” You replied, flicking your cigarette into the street below before breaking away from him and stumbling back into bed. Joel followed quietly. The window remained open.

　The silence stayed between the two of you like a wall, but eventually you began tearing those tense bricks away.

　“Y’know, I came here with my mom,” Your words were soft and careful, as if you were telling him a secret that no one was supposed to know. Joel listened intently. “I was thirteen.”

　He hummed, showing he was listening. You continued.

　“For my birthday, she wanted to get me something special, but trading wasn’t very big yet, and the few people that did had nothing good to offer. So, she broke into that boarded up mall.”

　He could hear your voice tremble as the vulnerable words left your lips. His thumb absentmindedly stroked your arm, attempting to console you.

　“It’s been twelve years since then,” You let out a sorrowful laugh, “I’ve watched this city change for twelve years. New signs come up, old ones come down. All these signs she never got to see…”

　“All over a damn birthday gift.”

　You laughed again, and Joel hugged you too him. No tears left your eyes, and his shirt was dry when you pulled away. “She would’ve liked you,” You said as you smiled tenderly, “The cigarettes you get are always the brand she smoked. You would’ve been an angel in her eyes.”

　Joel chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m sure i would’a liked her too, especially if she was anything like you.”

　The sadness that creased your eyes changed into one of a faint happiness, and you pulled him into a deep kiss. Joel could taste the nicotine on your tongue, and it drew him in as a second-hand smoke. Cigarettes were your addiction, but you were his addiction.

　The kiss turned into something more, his fingers dancing around the hem of your raggedy tee until his hands slipped under them, cupping your chest as your nipples pebbled from his chilled fingers. You moaned his name, a desperate call for him.

　He moved one hand to dive into your panties, fingers gathering the slick you’d developing as you had kissed him. He used the arousal to guide himself into you, fingertips slipping against your gummy walls as he fucked you with his hand, thumb circling your clit. Your eyes closed in euphoria, your moans gracing his ears as you begged him to keep going, a tide of pleasure rolling over you as you reached your high.

　Your hips twitched from overstimulation as you moved to palm him through his ratty boxers, gentle hand pulling the waistband and slipping inside to stroke him.

　“Baby,” His groan reached your ears as if it were a melody, urging you to continue, “I wanna fuck you so bad.”

　“Do it, Joel,” You spurred him on, his hand coming to replace yours as he pumped himself, pulling his boxers down and climbing on top of you, slipping his body between your legs as he traced his tip through your folds.

　A plead left your lips, begging for the teasing to stop. Joel let out a light chuckle as he complied, entering you carefully, allowing you to stretch to him. Obscene sounds met his actions, and he began to move, fucking you to an imaginary beat in his mind.

　“Good girl,” He groaned, a finger tracing your plush lips as he thrust inside of you. “Taking me so well like this.”

　You moaned at the praise, and Joel smiled adoringly, continuing to fuck you until your wave washed over you again. His hips stuttered as he reached his own peak, thick cum painting your walls.

　He stayed inside you as you both fought to catch your breath, pants leaving both your mouths. You pressed a kiss to his stubbly cheek, finger tracing his jawline.

　“Can we stay like this?” You asked, voice low as if you were scared of his rejection. You felt him nod against your stomach, and you fought a smile as your fingers began to deftly play with his graying hair.

　Joel relished the domestic action, melting into your intimacy. He breathed in the smell of smoke that stuck to your skin like perfume.

　“Joel?” You asked after a moment.

　“Hm?” Joel replied, hum muffled through your shirt and skin.

　“I’ll quit tomorrow,” You murmured softly, and Joel laughed.

　“Alright,” He said, turning so that you could hear him clearly. He raised his head, and his eyes met yours, a glimmer of jocose hidden in his deep eyes. “You’ll quit tomorrow.”

　You both knew it wasn’t true. Joel would continue to scour the Earth for that one specific brand of cigarettes that you smoked, and you’d continue you lean with your elbows on the open windowsill, smoke clouding and painting a familiar aura around you.

[whereslynx]

Hi, can I request one with jealous spooky x reader, and jamal and Ruby are crushing on reader, spooky gets jealous but reader thinks its funny cause both are just teenies 🥰

a/n: HAHAHAHAHA sure thing! this was fun to write. sad eyes version <—

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⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The afternoon heat lingered over Freeridge, the sun hanging heavy in the sky as its rays bounced off the pavement, warming the neighborhood with a golden sheen. You stood outside Oscar’s house, waiting for him to finish up inside. The heat clung to the air, but you didn’t mind—it was just another day. Leaning against Oscar’s Impala, you scrolled through your phone, trying to pass the time when you heard three familiar voices approaching behind you.

Turning around, you spotted Cesar walking up with Ruby and Jamal in tow. “Hey, Lil Spooky,” you greeted with a warm smile, reaching out to playfully ruffle Cesar’s hair. He shot you a mock glare but didn’t dodge it, grinning at your usual teasing.

“Jamal, Ruby,” you added, nodding toward the other two with a friendly smile.

Ruby stood a little straighter, his face instantly flushing red as he stared at you, clearly trying to contain his nerves. “Uh, please,” he stammered, “call me Ruben.” Cesar shot him a look, eyebrows raised as if to say, Are you really still dragging that Ruben thing?

Jamal, on the other hand, was less subtle. His eyes widened as he took you in, almost gawking. “What’s up?” Jamal asked, flashing a grin that was a little too wide, clearly attempting to impress you. His gaze flicked from your face down to your outfit, and back up again, like he was in awe.

Cesar chuckled at Jamal’s antics, shaking his head, but you just smiled, amusement dancing in your eyes. It was hard not to find the whole thing funny—especially knowing Oscar would probably roll his eyes at Jamal and Ruby’s little crushes on you. But it was harmless, and you weren’t about to make things weird for the boys.

“Nothing,” you answered, biting back a giggle at their awkward behavior, “just waiting for a certain someone to hurry up.” You threw a playful shade Cesar’s way, referring to his brother still being inside. “It’s Oscar, what do you expect?” Cesar laughed, nudging you lightly with his shoulder. His relaxed energy was a stark contrast to Ruby and Jamal, who seemed to be trying hard—too hard, actually.

Ruby cleared his throat, shifting his stance awkwardly. “So, uh… you like… cars?” he asked, gesturing to the Impala like it was a conversation starter. Jamal, not to be outdone, quickly jumped in. “Yeah, yeah! Or, uh… maybe you’re into… stars?” he added with an exaggerated hand gesture towards the sky, even though it was broad daylight.

You stared at them, trying not to laugh outright at their painfully awkward attempts at flirting. They looked so out of their depth, it was kind of adorable. “Please,” you smirked, shaking your head. “Y’all are babies. I’m old enough to be your tía.”

Ruby, eyes wide with sudden inspiration, puffed out his chest. “Well… I could be your baby,” he said, sounding more confident than he looked, though his face was turning beet red.

Cesar snorted, giving Ruby a side-eye. “You sure you wanna get at Oscar’s girl?” he asked, amused but also low-key warning him with a raised brow.

Jamal, always the bold one, stepped forward. “Well, I don’t see him!” he declared, spreading his arms dramatically. “Clearly, he ain’t treasuring you as much as I would!”

Before you could even respond, a familiar voice cut through the air like a smooth knife. “Oh yeah?” Oscar’s voice rumbled from behind them, causing Ruby and Jamal to freeze in their tracks like guilty kids caught sneaking snacks.

Oscar strolled out of the house, hands in his pockets, with a slow, almost predatory smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I ain’t treasuring her enough, huh?” His eyes flicked between Ruby and Jamal, clearly enjoying their sudden panic. He gave Cesar a quick dap before sliding an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

Jamal, wide-eyed but still trying to save face, stammered, “W-Well, I just meant—uh—y’know—hypothetically—”

Oscar chuckled, squeezing your waist affectionately. “Hypothetically, you two should stop flirting with my girl before you end up doing her laundry for a week.” Ruby gulped, muttering, “Please call me Ruben…” under his breath as Cesar shook his head, barely containing his laughter.

You leaned into Oscar, smirking at the whole situation. “Told y’all, babies,” you teased, poking Jamal’s arm playfully.

“Well, I don’t see y’all getting outta here,” Oscar said, his voice dripping with playful menace. “I’m guessing you do wanna do her shit, huh?” Though his tone was teasing, you knew how those boys worked—anything Spooky said, they took it seriously.

Ruby’s eyes went wide, his confidence crumbling. “No, no, Mr. Oscar, we’ll be on our way!” he blurted, grabbing Jamal by the shirt and practically dragging him along. Jamal barely had time to protest as Ruby sped-walked down the sidewalk, both of them desperately trying to put as much distance between themselves and Oscar as possible.

Oscar watched them go, amusement lighting up his face. He looked back at Cesar, who was still standing there, shaking his head at the whole scene. “Tell your lil homies to stay away from my girl, aight?” Oscar said, a smug smirk playing on his lips. Cesar chuckled, shrugging as if this wasn’t the first time he’d seen Ruby and Jamal talk themselves into trouble. “They just don’t listen,” he exclaimed, shaking his head before jogging off to catch up with the pair, who had already managed to scare themselves around the corner of the block.

You laughed, playfully slapping Oscar’s chest. “You’re cruel, they’re only just babies,” you exclaimed with a grin, still amused by how quickly Ruby and Jamal had fled. Oscar raised an eyebrow, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pulled you closer. “Babies or not, they better know whose girl you are,” he teased, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “Can’t have them thinking they got a shot.”

“Please,” you chuckled, looking up at him, “they wouldn’t know what to do with me even if they tried. You saw how they panicked.”

Oscar smirked, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your back. “Yeah, but I saw how you handled it. Making them nervous with that smile of yours, huh?” He teased. You rolled your eyes, leaning into his embrace. “Oh, so now it’s my fault?”

“It’s always your fault,” he teased, kissing the top of your head before letting his hands fall to your hips. “But that’s why I keep you around.”

“Oh, is that right?” you laughed, giving him a playful shove before stepping out of his hold. “Maybe I’ll start hanging out with them more, see what happens.” You shot back with a smug smile, clearly joking. Oscar let out a dramatic scoff, “You wouldn’t dare.” he grumbled. You grinned at his mock outrage, your laughter filling the quiet street as the sun continued its lazy descent over Freeridge, casting long, golden shadows around you both.

[baka-bakeneko]

Bad Things - Miguel O'Hara

Miguel O'Hara x gn! Reader (afab biology)

tags: Black Cat (sorta) reader, canon-Miguel aggression, choking, fighting/canon-typical violence, hint to cnc, predator/prey, teasing, cute aggression, establishing dominance, dry-humping, brat behavior, oral (reader/miguel), doggy-style, animal-like aggression, creampie

part two here

word count: 4.68k

synopsis: You find yourself on Miguel O'Hara's canon divergence radar.

a/n: honestly, someone buy me a drink rn. someone sedate me, pls

*

Fuck a canon event.

Seriously.

You couldn't care anymore about a canon event than you did your next steal. So there was no way you were ever on any Spidey's good side.

Every Spider you encountered were none too pleased with your wry wit and quick-footing, making their job a little more difficult than usual. Unlike the many unhinged villains they encountered, you were both sane and a downright asshole.

Who cared about the balance of good and evil when there was so much fun in watching chaos? Everyday being the same was boring, sometimes the drama made it worth while.

After a successful heist stealing a jeweler parlor, you made your way back to your apartment to inspect your earnings.

Diamonds, while a girl's best friend, were nothing compared to sapphires and rubies. Gold was nothing compared to the most polished of silvers.

Slipping into your apartment window, you were greeted by one of your strays. A white kitten darted across your bare hardwood floor to the kitchen, stopping in front of the fridge and rubbing against the appliance.

"Aww, pretty kitty," you swooned, scooping up the frail feline and throwing open the fridge door. "Milk is bad for us. But a little won't hurt, right?"

You scanned your barren fridge for the nighttime snack of choice; when you found it, you grabbed the glass bottle then shut the door with your hip.

You weren't expecting the imposing Spider hidden behind the door. His presence didn't even peak your senses, his scent almost undetectable.

Tilting your head at him, you furrowed your brows. Definitely not like the other Spideys you've interacted with before. His mask was laced in bright rubinous inlay, his suit emitting a dull glow like a screen.

Your stray reared in your hold at the stranger, hissing even as you turned them away from the person's stance. Ignoring them, you climbed onto the counter with your kitten and grabbed a bowl from the sink.

Eyes still on the person in the dark corner of your apartment, you poured a bowl of milk for your stray then pet down its back.

You hummed softly at it, scritching behind its ears while you worked up a purr. When you were satisfied with petting, you returned the bottle to the fridge and came face-to-face with the Spider again.

"You know, you Spideys usually start with a--" you were cut off by the Spider's large hand gripping your throat and slamming you into the fridge door.

You blinked pointedly, your eyesight going dizzy in the moment before narrowing your gaze at them. Your stray hissed again, hopping from the counter and scrambling under the bed.

"Straight to the point then," you said, tilting your chin up to lengthen your throat. "No spiel? No Spidey-backstory?"

"Do they do that often?" the Spider spoke, he spoke, monotonous and strong. "Give you a story?"

You rolled your eyes dramatically, taking the gentle ease of his hand to breathe. "Most of them do. Gives me enough time to get away."

The Spider tsked, his fingers flexing at your throat. "Weak."

You smiled deviantly. "My thoughts exactly."

You brought your knee up swiftly, attempting to bludgeon the Spider's crotch; he stepped back and avoided your blow, then pressed his body to yours as his hold on your neck tightened.

"Gatito malo," the Spider chastised against your nose. "Should've been caught a long time ago."

You melted an inch, your purr returning by the utterance. Your brow quirked, leaning in to try and examine the Spider's face from under his mask.

"If only they were efficient like you," you offered, gasping in a breath from his palm flattening your windpipe.

"Flattery will get you nowhere," Spider-Man noted with a scoff.

Your hands now went for his at your throat, attempting to pry him off with your claw-adorned gloves.

"I thought Spiders had a code," you squeaked out with a wiggle, trying to gain leverage from this man.

Your knees suddenly braced his waist, feeling the heat rush over your body.

"I'm not like the others..." he began, before you felt a sharp pinch on the side of your throat.

A puncture through your skin made you wince, baring your kitten fangs in pain.

"I do whatever it takes," Spider-Man grit out, tightening his hold on your neck further.

You hardened under his hold, your knees now squeezing at his waist to gain more leverage from him.

"You're telling me," you feigned a swoon, shutting your eyes to meter your breathing through pursed lips.

"You don't mess with canon events, gatito." He flexed his hold. His other hand was gripped onto your fridge, his claws sinking into the sturdy appliance like an opening a can.

Surprising yourself, you reached out for the Spider's face, clawing at his mask and taking the moment to wriggle from his hold. You sank down to the floor, ducked between the hero's sturdy legs to crawl away.

The hero recovered from your fake-out and turned to reach after your ankle. He grabbed you, pulling you across the linoleum as your claws scratched the floor.

You turned onto your back and kicked in the direction of his face once, twice before the Spider grabbed at your extended thigh.

You straightened up, using your core to pull yourself up. Your knees rested at his shoulders, his claws tearing into your dark jeans attempting to pry you off of him.

You squeezed your thighs at the man's throat, making him tilt his chin up as the moonlight pooled through your kitchen window.

His hair caught onto the night light, his eyes dark and beaming in the shadows of your apartment. You reached your hands out to grab at his hair, but the Spider grabbed onto your hips and threw you off of him.

Catching yourself on your feet, you skidded over the kitchen island and knocked over your stray's milk bowl. Ducking behind the island, you scrambled to search your pockets for a gadget to use in the moment.

"Nice try, gatito," the Spider called out, cracking his neck as he walked over to the island. "But there's no weaseling out of this one."

You waited a moment, thought of moving away from him but couldn't find a reasonable option. Instead, you flinched when he slammed his hands down on the countertop.

Glancing up, you met his eyes glinting a blood crimson. He lurched at you, making you scurry away and kick your shoes off. You rushed back to your window, ready to jump out and make your escape.

The Spider caught your ankle again and dragged you across the floor, earning a few more kicks at his chest and stomach. You flinched when he closed his legs over yours, took your hands in his.

He stretched you out under him, listening to your heart threshing wildly in your chest. The Spider leaned in and sniffed tentatively at the back of your ear when you turned your head in disgust.

The fear that rushed through you in that instant made his cock swell. He grit his teeth at the feeling, pulling back in an instant. You waited for your punishment in the form of striking, batting away your face in hopes he wouldn't break your nose.

Instead, you felt the sudden levity of the Spider gone. You flashed your eyes open, realizing he'd disappeared. But not without the jewels.

"Motherfucker," you pursed out, folding yourself upright then over your knees.

You tried to catch your breath in the short moment, attempting to map everything that just happened in the span of seconds. The Spider was in, then out, of your life in the blink of an eye and all you had to show for it was the now bleeding puncture on your throat.

You sat your head up over your forearms, steadying your breaths from the fight. But even when you did, you couldn't deny the warmth that pooled to your stomach.

You'd felt him against you twice, a stiff upper body and sturdy frame. He could've killed you easily. But he played with you. Much like you did to his Spidey counterparts.

-

Stupid canon events.

They were nothing. And how the hell were you supposed to know which decision of yours would bring that mean, old Spider back to you?

The thought alone was daunting, staring over New York with a new task at hand: bring more chaos to bring your Spider back.

"Don't do whatever you're thinking," his voice cut in through your thoughts.

You turned around on the rooftop to see the Spider, without a mask on, leaning against the door to the complex stairway.

"I'm already exhausted," he huffed, pinching at the bridge of his nose.

You narrowed your eyes at him, leaning against the ledge of the rooftop. "You've just given me a reason to do it. Not like you'll stop me."

The Spider growled out in frustration, his chest flattening with the exhale. He flashed out his wrist twice, distracting you with his speed to web you to the brick ledge.

"Gatito," he stressed, pulling his hand from his face and stepping up to you. The man leaned down to meet your gaze, allowed you to stare deep into his dim eyes and the dark circles that accessorized them. "Don't."

You openly pouted at his warning; your eyes cut to the sky as you cocked a hip in defiance. "But..."

"Ah, ah, ah," The Spider began, clamping his large hand over your mouth. At the same time, he held his index finger up to chastise you. "No excuses."

You screwed your jaw sideways, allowing your defiance to bleed through your stare at this man.

"What?" he asked flatly, pulling his hands back.

You took in his entire stature, much taller than you remembered and more built than you gathered in the dark.

"Why didn't you deal with me last time?" you queried genuinely.

This man could've easily flattened you, you realized over and over again. He'd made a note of letting you know too. He'd been the object of your dreams that night, the reason you cuddled extra tight at your pillow.

Spider furrowed his brows in slight confusion at you, his thick brows pinching the skin between them with a wrinkle. He gave you a once-over, met your eyes instantly.

"I thought the warning sufficed."

You exhaled, offering a long blink to dot the silence. "Guess not."

The Spider leveled his brow, casting a shadow over his gaze. "We're not going at this again."

You reached out to brace his calf with your sneaker. "Come on. Admit it, it was fun."

"Never," he spat, adjusting his stance away from your reach.

You prodded your tongue between your lips as you tilted your head at him. "Do you get hard when you fight all your villains?"

His face flashed with quick embarrassment before he reeled himself back to frustration. "You are not a villain."

It felt like he'd baited you with something good. "So I'm special?" You asked with a grin.

The Spider scoffed at you, cutting his eyes away as his hands braced his waist. Now you were paying attention to how he was truly built. Your knees had braced that waist, your chest had pressed against his.

"I feel honored, seeing how intimate we got," you pushed.

"Shut," The Spider bit out, his teeth gritted as he leaned towards you. "Up. That's not what happened."

You raised a brow at his demeanor, hiding the devilish grin that tempted your lips.

"Are you sure? I feel like you're overreacting at a little criminal."

The Spider peeled his top lip back with a snarl, revealing a much longer fang than your own. His nose scrunched, almost disgusted.

"Your..." his hand reached out to grab you, his claws already extended. He acknowledged your slight flinch at him and drew back with a fist. "I can read your thoughts. They're...a lot."

An ice spilled through your system then, every thought you'd had about this Spider flooding to the forefront again. Every thought made you physically shake it away, wading through your fantastical imagination.

When you'd worked through yourself, you met the Spider's avoiding gaze wanting to see if you could make his thoughts.

"Anything...you like?" you teased.

The Spider scoffed, the noise sounding much like a furball ready to be hacked. He turned away from you, shaking his head at you.

"That's not what I'm here for." he offered.

It felt almost too easy. With a gentle tug, you felt the web at your wrists give way and you sat up on the ledge. "Are you sure? What was it you were saying about canon events?"

The Spider glanced over his large shoulder back at you. "What're you getting at, gatito?"

You shrugged, feigning dumb, bringing your claw-adorned glove up to examine them. They were sharp, much like the Spider's, but made from reformed silver. Purely for the show of it.

"Why is it that I trigger a canon event with everything I do? Your other Spideys can't seem to fix the situation, but you can."

Spider's brows were now melded together. "I'm still not following."

"I just might be your match, Spidey. I might be important to you."

The stranger grit, his jaw tightening as his hands gripped harder at his hips. "You speak nonsense."

"Maybe," you offered with another shrug, glancing in the Spider's direction. "But that made you hard, didn't it?"

He growled, snapping in your direction. "Stop that!"

"I haven't done anything," you said. "But you can't deny the attraction, Spidey."

"Miguel," he barked lowly at you. "My name is Miguel."

You nodded slowly, dropping your hand to hold the ledge you were balanced on. "Nice to put a name to a handsome face."

Miguel raised a finger to you, ready to scold you, but forfeited and returned his hand to waist. You lounged on the ledge, resting your chin in your hand.

Drumming your fingers to your cheek, you ogled the Spider, Miguel, as he paced the rooftop.

"So," you drew out, finally letting your smile curl on your lips. "You ready to confess, Miguel?"

He scoffed outwardly at you, turning his back to you until he turned his head up at the sky with a groan.

Sitting upright, you kicked off of the ledge and stood close behind him. You ran a finger down his back, tracing over the dip between his shoulders while admiring the husk of his build.

"I'll say it first since you're scared," you taunted, skirting a hand over his waist before stepping away from him.

You slipped under his arm as he turned, now facing him and leaning in to veer up at him. "I'd very much like to pick up where we left off."

Miguel glanced down at you then smacked his teeth in disbelief. "Ay, gatito, give it a rest."

You purred, reaching up to rest your hand on his shoulder. You ran your claws down the length of his arm before running your fingers between his and intertwining them.

"You felt it there, Miguel," you smiled, leaning in to whisper. "If you weren't on a mission, you wanted to fuck."

Miguel's hand clasped tightly over yours, holding back enough strength to not crush it. His claws caged over your small knuckles as he leaned into your face.

"You're no good, kitty cat," he seethed lowly, his eyes flicking over your body and back to you. "I have no reason to waste time on you."

You leaned in, skirting your nose against Miguel's to breathe against his lips. "You trying to convince me? Or yourself?"

Miguel's eyes flashed with anger, his brows furrowing as his nostrils flared. His mind was plagued with the images littering your thoughts in the exact moment, his throat dry as he attempted to tame his cock from reacting.

"Puta," he spat against your mouth, his hot breath punctuating against your lips.

You cocked your jaw slightly. "I like a challenge, don't you? Let's see who bites first."

Miguel smushed his lips to yours, just to get you to stop speaking. You were effectively working his last nerve, and the thought of having you writhing on his cock was beginning to suffice the stress.

His hand clenching yours relaxed, sliding up to your wrist and bringing your hand to his crotch so you could feel the absolute need of relief.

You hummed excitedly against his lips, feeling the heat from Miguel's cock cradled in your hand. Slowly, you traced your fingers up his sheathed length; the more you trekked, the more daunting the task of fitting him inside you was.

Still, you were unnerved. The lilac feeling trickling down your back as you tilted your head back and opened your mouth to receive Miguel's tongue.

He followed your lead at that point, edging his tongue into your mouth before delving and scouring like finding new flesh to rapture.

His other hand grabbed at your bicep, pulled you into his chest and tenderly squeezed at your muscle; his handling bordered on aggressive, withheld just enough under the surface to feel the tension.

Miguel gulped when he parted from you, not without a tender nip to your top lip. He bowed his forehead to yours, catching his breath while his mind now shared the same depth as yours.

"Take me to your apartment," he ordered, his hold squeezing on you to get his point across.

You nodded, eyelids fluttering as your chest rose with his.

-

Down the stairs from the rooftop, Miguel kept close behind you. His steps held the same cadence, not picking up speed or trudging; he kept a respectful distance behind you while you followed your hummingbird-racing heart.

At the front door of your apartment, you fumbled with finding your keys. Patting your pockets, you attempted to find them as Miguel sidled up behind you.

He pressed into you, his hands finding your hips, rutting his sheathed cock against the backside of your suit. You fumbled a moment, each rock of his hips stalling your efforts to think. Miguel let loose an errant groan, his fingers pressing tighter into you and backing you up on him.

You reached a hand out to the door for stability, folding your lips together to fight back the noises earned from his bulge tempting against your heat.

"I-I gotta," you stammered, wiggling out of his hold to bend down and look under your floor mat.

Retrieving the key, you studied putting it in the lock as Miguel grabbed the top of the doorframe and leaned into your back.

"Don't make me wait now, gatito. Apurarse." His mouth pressed up to the shell of your ear, his breath trickled down your neck.

You hid a shiver, pushing the door open fervently and letting the stranger inside. Miguel grabbed the key from your door and tossed it to the floor, then slammed the door behind him.

He kept up with your heels, his shoulders rolled forward while he studied you like prey. You felt his eyes bore into you as you crossed the studio apartment, walking by the kitchen until Miguel shoved you against the kitchen island.

Miguel grabbed your shoulder to spin you around, eyed you over before landing at the buckle of your pants. He rested his hands on the counter, his fingers curling over the lip to hold back his eagerness to undress you.

"Get naked," he smattered against your ear, a trickle of his spit dotting his syllables. Miguel bared his teeth for effect, inhaling your scent from the close proximity. "Now."

You wiggled in place, feeling the nervous tickle across your back as the heat rose between your thighs. Miguel was pressed between them, no longer evading his deep interest in you.

Your breath caught as his swollen cock rubbed over your clothed sex, making your eyes cross at the thought of relief. Miguel huffed against your ear, taking in your shaken demeanor and pulled back.

"Did you not hear me?" He bit, taking dominant grip of your jaw and giving you a light jerk. "Strip."

Your hands went for your zipper in obedience, suddenly tame as could be; Miguel's eyes dragged down the length of your body with your zipper, holding back the driven hunger in his eyes when you shrugged a shoulder of your bodysuit and revealed your bare chest.

A mirthless scoff escaped his lips, his free hand grabbing at piece of the fabric and aiding it off of you.

"Straight to the point, huh?" he taunted, his voice toneless of joviality.

You sighed, smiled, and continued to undress for Miguel's approval. He tilted his chin up, looked down his nose at you revealing your body to him.

"Mira," he breathed as you pushed your bodysuit down from your waist and shimmied it to your ankles. Miguel dipped his fingers between your hips, feeling at the immediate wet along your folds. "Mierda..."

You fumbled out of your shoes and free from your suit as Miguel touched you. Your hand reached for his bicep, unconsciously spreading your legs to allow him further.

"You are a brat, wet like a bitch in heat," Miguel snarled in your face, drawing two fingers back and forth between your lips. He teased around your entrance, making you acknowledge the thickness of his fingers.

You squirmed, your knees almost magnetic to one another but Miguel stood closer between them. He chastised you with a click of his tongue, edging the tips of his fingers into you then back out.

Miguel's cock twitched at the feeling of you around him, velvet wet at the tips of his fingers. He put his hand on your hip, edging you onto the counter.

He followed you, pressing his cock to the side of the counter as he shifted your hips to the edge. You reached to run your fingers through his hair, give him a lick of attention, but he shied away from your touch and knelt before you.

"Spread it for me," he ordered, licking at his teeth.

Another chill shocked through you, following his order and using your fingers to hold yourself open. He swallowed thickly, drawing his hand over his mouth before swiping it down his chest to disperse his suit.

You stared down at Miguel as his suit glitched away, his shoulders revealed to be larger and rounded than imagined. His hands gripped at your knees, draped them over his shoulders as he sank his mouth to your sex.

His tongue lashed out hungrily, not wasting a second to savor you. You fidgeted in his hold, felt his teeth edge in and out of control. His lips kissed, mawed while his tongue lapped, dragged between your folds.

"M-Miguel," you tried, feeling him acknowledge you with a squeeze at your knees.

He drew back a hand, fumbled from behind his closed eyes to take hold of his throbbing cock. He stroked feverishly, his eyes rolling at the slick taste of you melting on his tongue.

Miguel broke away from you to bite at your inside thigh, not holding back as his incisors pinched your skin. You yelped, edging your thigh open further to evade him.

Miguel snarled after you, raising to his feet again with his cock in hand. The thought of engulfing you made the untamed heat in Miguel grow. He wanted to tower over you, make you cower from him just to feed off of your fear.

You stared unwaveringly in his eyes, acknowledging the deep red laced through them. You were tempted to blink, balk at his aggression, but you tightened your jaw and tilted your chin up.

The corner of his mouth twitched. "Suck my cock, gatito."

His order shot through your body, making you edge your hips on the counter. You moved carefully off of the counter, down to your knees before Miguel.

Your eyes gazed up the stranger's body, taking in every muscular divot and curve of him. His stature was domineering, the way he held his shoulders nothing short of menacing.

Miguel's hand reached for your cheek, caressed it softly before gripping your chin between his thumb and index finger. "Suck."

He pried your mouth open, guided your lips to the tip of his hard cock. Staring down the length of him, your hands went to his thighs to keep yourself steady.

Slowly, you pushed your lips down Miguel's cock; his tip pressurized your uvula, bringing tears to your eyes and spittle to pull in your mouth. You hallowed your cheeks, using your hands to slather his length with your saliva.

Miguel bowed his head back, holding in his groan as his hand rested at your nape. He seethed between his teeth, eyes rolling at the warmth you gave to his cock. His web pore under his free hand flexed in excitement, reminding him of the imminence.

He smacked his teeth, pulling his cock from your hold then tapping it at the front of your lips, over your cheeks before reaching to drag you up.

The look of your bed was calling your name, wanting nothing more than to share your intimate space with this man. Miguel thought nothing further than you, his gaze forced on you as he turned you around in his hold.

His hands gripped your biceps, weighed the thought of bruising you before folding you to the floor. Miguel followed you down, edging up on his knees to spread your legs.

He ran his hands down your sides, gripped your hips and ruthlessly tilted them in his favor. Without warning, Miguel guided his tip between your folds then in.

Your eyes fluttered hard, blinking and bracing your shoulder to the linoleum. Your arms bowed under your body, your stomach folded to your thighs tight.

Miguel was felt through every inch of your core, pushing more of himself inside until you were overstuffed with him. He stared down in disappoint, you speared on his cock but not taking him all the way in.

He growled, rocking your hips to meet his unmatchable thrusts. You yowled softly against the linoleum, your body burned with the ravishing heat.

Miguel's claws bit into your skin, holding you in place while he thrusted out of sync, no longer pacing himself.

A purr tore through your chest, rumbling the part of the floor and rattling back against your nipples. Miguel growled in response, his finger pads squeezing hungrily at your flesh.

He paused, allowing your throbbing sex to hug his cock. Miguel returned his thrusts, then paused in spurts to savor the bits of you.

You writhed under him, no longer feeling human but a vessel of pleasure. Your walls begged for release, your body shuddering with every edge.

"Please," you pleaded minutely.

Miguel inhaled deeply, then out as he thrusted his cock as far into you as he could; the jolting feeling brought you to your climax, eyes rolling as you released Miguel's name from your lips.

He clawed over your skin, bringing deep red welps and punctures to your skin. His web pores twitched to life, spurting short lengths of web at the same time he emptied his balls into you.

Miguel folded a hand at the small of your back, bowing you further onto his cock to keep his cum inside of you. Your body reacted with small twinges at the flex of his cock within you.

-

You woke up at sunset, in your bed. Looking around your apartment, you searched for your Spider. Miguel. But he was nowhere to be found.

Dropping your head back in defeat, you scoffed at the ceiling. The one time with him now felt like it wouldn't be enough. He was now itching under your skin, you felt his claws had left marks all over you.

Rolling over, you went to grab your pillow and hold it close only to see a note made from spider web. You quirked a brow, leaning towards the silveresque threads twinkling on the edge of the sunset.

'Get in trouble again, gatito. Don't make me wait.'

[jup1tersparx]

A dam falls, eve breaks

I smash my old self to bits

And would you drink poison for a body that fits?

(ID under cut)

[ID: Art of Percy Reed from hello from the hallowoods.

On the right is his decaying corpse in a sketchy art style. It is wearing a tattered dress, has black curly hair and is partially transparent. It is coloured in loosely, as if scribbled with colouring pencils. It is loosely suspended in the air by piano wires like a puppet, one arm above it’s head, one pointing to the side and one leg slightly bent, mimicking a dance. It is visibly slumped over. It’s face is indistinct, but has dark circles for what could be eyes and a mouth that has been stitched over. The colours are sepia toned and muted.

On the left is Percy Reed as a ghost, his form roughly carved from what appears to be fire; no lineart only negative space. The fire fills the bottom left third of the image and spills into the center. The style resembles a painting. The colours are extremely blown out, resembling heat map vision. There is an extremely saturated almost-red hot pink for the dark areas and a more muted cyan for light areas, with violet to bridge the gap when needed. You can roughly make out a collared shirt, an oversized jumper, trousers and short curly hair. His face, part of his torso and his hands are the most distinct part of the painting, the edges across the rest of him being more softly blended with the fire behind him. He is partially facing the corpse, but has turned his head to stare directly into the camera. With one hand he grips the wire suspending the corpse’s left arm and with the other he holds a burning hand underneath the arm, with the arm starting to catch fire. His stance is confident.

The background is dark and loosely sketched, resembling charcoal art. It depicts a clearing in a thick pine forest, a gothic style house in the center and a path leading to where the viewer is positioned. a cross is visible at the top of the spire. It is Solomon Reed’s house, as depicted in the episode art for 34, ‘Towers’. the sky is dark cyan and everything in the foreground under the charcoal is a dark ruby red. The colouring is also scribbled, barely lining up with the lineart. The fire percy is carved from covers part of the house, giving the illusion that it is also catching fire. The sky also may be filled with smoke. The image has a grain overlay and is square. The faces of the two percy’s are positioned at the crossover points of a (theoretical) rule of thirds grid. End ID]