#searching for the feeling he had with you—only to never find it

[tprings-hair]

I'm going to say something about the new unification short film that I haven't seen anyone here say yet.

I love the handholding scene. massively impactful. I love the echo of "this simple feeling" from the motion picture and the genesis reference and the idea that spock did not die alone or among strangers. it's just so satisfying after all this time to know that even shatner knew it was wrong and needed to be approached with more compassion for nimoy and the fans who loved these characters and knew they should be together at the end, whatever that looked like.

but you know what really got me?

this minute or so. kirk confronting his old selves. because that's obviously original series kirk right there in the gold uniform.

and the other? THAT'S HIM!!

(I'm linking it this way because you apparently can't add more than one video to a post and I need it here for demonstration.)

so we have present kirk walking down a dark hallway. at the end is spock, but at the end is also spock's death. how can he step forward and face that? what happened to the way he used to think about death?

yellow shirt is TOS kirk, who had always found a way around the problem and never (if the movies are to be believed) had to face death straight on. he's looking forward with confidence. there's no way spock is dying. there's a way out of this somehow, if only he can find it.

TOS kirk looks back the way he came, because he believes he can go back. he can always go back. the series always resets to the same characters who can be depended on to take similar actions, because that's what a serial is, and that's who he is. things have taken their toll on him, but he knows he can take the hit and keep moving.

but he stops when he's faces with WOK kirk. the one in the red dress uniform, who has lost spock and knows what it is to live without him. who has faced death in a way he had never had to before, because the constraints of the series never allowed it. he has been changed because of it.

TOS kirk sees that, and does that sort of posturing that he always does in front of someone who's threatening him. but WOK kirk isn't threatening him. he's just living through something TOS kirk hasn't had to face yet. it's him staring his past self in the face and telling him, kindly and firmly, you know nothing about how it will feel. you will never be the same without him.

and TOS kirk looks back again, and there's a present kirk, wearing his generations uniform. this is kirk having turned that grief to a desperate search for the most important person in his life, and emerged with spock by his side. he's not the same, but he's made it through. of course TOS kirk would look to that.

and as our kirk looks at these people he used to be, they vanish in front of him. he remembers the way he used to think about losing spock. the fear, the grief, the hope. there's no hope left. when he reaches the end, spock will be there, and it will be their last time together.

but he puts the pin back on, and reminds himself of his duty not just to a fellow officer, but to a friend, to the most important person in his life, and to himself. spock should not be alone, and he never got to say goodbye properly before. doing it now is the least he can do.

that's his ultimate responsibility in that moment: being there for spock. that's been his ultimate responsibility from the beginning. and this is shatner acknowledging that they deserved an ending that fit that truth.

[bsturnzmtts]

Friends? - Matt Sturniolo

Re uploaded because my account bsturnzmtt got deactivated :( Please follow and let me know if you want to be in my tag list !

(A/n: on my last account I posted this in two parts here it’s all in one part)

Paring: bsf!Matt x bsf! Reader

Contains/warnings: p in v, use of vibrator, oral, fingering, teasing, pet names

Summary: Your best friend Matt finds your vibrator...

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Your best friend Matt is staying over at your place for a sleepover, this is very common in your friendship. Another thing that’s common is flirting and teasing, but you two decided that it was platonic although sometimes it doesn’t look like it…

Right now you two are laying in your bed already in pjs exchanging weird questions and thoughts.

“Matt ass or tits?” You ask him as you laugh.

Laughs mischievously, turning to face you “Oh, real mature...” he smirks “Well, if we're playing that game...” Looks at you up and down briefly teasing you before continuing “I'd have to sayyyy tits”

You nod as you hear his answer. “Hm yeah, I had a feeling” you say as you chuckle.

Giggles mischievously “Oh really?...” He leans in a bit closer, the room dimly lit “So you think about my preferences like that, huh?”

You roll your eyes “Ughh nope, never said that”

“Mhm...” He pokes your side playfully “Liar...” His grin widens, teeth glinting in the low light. “But for real, if we're asking personal questions...” He pauses, tilts his head slightly. “What's your biggest turn-on?”

You laugh at his question. “Yeah I’m not answering that��� you sit up on the bed. “I’m going to the bathroom” you say before getting up and going to the bathroom.

Matt only smirks as you exit the room because it means he has time to snoop around your stuff.

As soon as you leave the room, Matt's curiosity gets the better of him. He quietly gets out of bed and starts searching your room. He opens your drawers, at the third drawer his eyes immediately land on a medium sized box. His eyes glint with curiosity and he decides to open it… As he opens it the box reveals a very intimate object, a vibrator.

Matt's eyebrows shoot up in surprise as he sees the vibrator. A mischievous grin spreads across his face. He picks it up, examining it with a playful smirk. Then he decides to tease you about it but not yet, so he puts it in his pocket for now.

You exit the bathroom and go back to your bed, sitting and resting your back in the headboard.

Matt jumps back into bed, acting nonchalant. He grins mischievously at you. "Took you long enough, I was getting bored without you."

“Yeah yeah, I know you can’t live without me” you answer.

He leans against the headboard next to you, mirroring your posture. "Well, not completely untrue..." He drags out the last word, then playfully nudges your shoulder with his. "So... Where were we before you so rudely left me?"

“Hmmmm” you pretend to think “I don’t remember”

He chuckles and shakes his head, reaching out to gently tug on your hair. "Liar," he says softly, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "You know exactly what we were talking about before you left." He pauses, his gaze lingering on yours. "The biggest turn-on question, remember?"

“Ohhh yeah now I remember, and I also remember telling you that I’m not answering that” you respond.

Matt laughs, leaning in closer. "Come on, it's just me." He playfully nudges your arm. "I promise I won't judge... Unless it's something really weird, like feet or something."

“Ewww noo, I don’t even know my answer”

He raises an eyebrow skeptically. "Oh really? You mean to tell me the great Y/n doesn't know what gets her all hot and bothered?" He smirks, his voice lowering teasingly. "I find that hard to believe."

“Why’d you wanna know so bad anyways?” You ask raising your eyebrows teasingly.

Matt's grin widens, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Oh, you know... Just trying to learn more about my favorite person." He reaches out to boop your nose playfully. "Plus, it's fun to get under your skin a little." He winks.

“Well next question, cause I’m not answering that one”

He chuckles, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright, I get it. You're a closed book." He leans back, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm”

“Wait why don’t you answer your own question”

Matt's eyes light up with a playful challenge. "Oh ho! Trying to turn the tables on me, are you?" He grins, considering for a moment. "But that’s not how it works, I’ll only answer if you answer"

“Yeah, cause yours is probably some weird shit” You laugh and nudge him.

Matt laughs, feigning offense. "Hey, hey! I'll have you know my turn-ons are perfectly normal!" He smirks, his gaze flicking down to your lips briefly. "Mostly..." His eyes glint mischievously as he looks back up at you.

You turn your head to face him, your faces are now close. “uh huh… sure they are” you smirk.

Matt's smirk grows wider, his face inches from yours. He reaches out to gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingertips grazing your skin. "Let's just say I have a thing for smart mouths and stubborn personalities," he murmurs, his breath whispering against your lips.

Your faces are now really close and the tension is definitely there. “Yeah?” You ask teasingly.

Matt's eyes lock onto yours, his gaze intense. He leans in closer, his lips almost touching yours. "Yeah," he breathes, his voice low and husky. Just as he's about to kiss you, he pauses, a playful glint in his eye.

Your eyes roam down to his lips before facing away.

Matt chuckles softly, noticing your gaze. "Tease," he murmurs, but there's no real annoyance in his tone. He then reaches into his pocket pulling out the vibrator, dangling it in front of you teasingly. He chuckles mischievously. “I must admit, I’m quite curious how you use this…”

Your eyes turn to look at him and they immediately widen in shock seeing the object in Matts hands.

Matt grins wickedly, clearly enjoying your shocked expression. "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" He dangles the vibrator playfully, his eyes never leaving yours. "I found this in your nightstand earlier. Quite the interesting discovery, wouldn't you say?"

“Ugh how did you find that? But it back” you as you try to reach for it.

Matt holds it out of reach, laughing at your futile attempt. "Ah, ah, ah," he teases, holding the vibrator just out of your grasp. "You're going to have to do better than that." His gaze drops to your chest, appreciatively.

“Maaaatt come on” you try harder to reach it.

Matt takes a step back, easily keeping the toy out of reach. "Not until you answer my question," he says, grinning mischievously. "I mean, I'm curious. How do you like to use it? Slow and gentle, or hard and fast?"

“Ugh” you lean back giving up. “I-… I haven’t used it, it’s new”

Matt's grin widens, clearly pleased with himself for getting you to admit it. "New, huh?" He pockets the vibrator, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Well, since it's new, I think it's only fair that I show you how to use it properly."

“Ha ha funny” you roll your eyes at his words “now give it back”

Matt ignores your demand, instead wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. "Oh, I am dead serious," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "In fact, I think we should try it out right now." His hand slowly slides down your side, his touch gentle.

“Matt-“ you try your say something be he doesn’t let you.

“Shhhhh” He leans in, pressing soft kisses along your neck and collarbone. His hands explore your body slowly, learning every curve.

His touch is gentle yet firm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. His hands gradually move towards the bottom of your shirt slowly, playing with the hem of your shirt. His kisses trailing downwards. He looks up at you, his eyes filled with desire. "Tell me to stop if you want me to," he whispers, his voice hoarse.

You could feel your body heating up in desire. “Don’t stop” you shyly respond with a whisper.

Matt smiles against your skin, his hands slipping under your shirt and caressing your bare stomach. He continues his explorations, his hands gliding up your sides and cupping your breasts through your bra. He looks up at you, seeking approval, his fingers tracing the lace edge of your bra. You give him a small nod of approval.

Matt takes that as permission, unhooking your bra with expert fingers. He slides the straps down your shoulders, his touch reverent as he bares you to him. He leans down, capturing one hard peak in his mouth. He sucks gently, his tongue swirling around the bud.

You bite and close your eyes as you feel his tongue flicking the sensitive bud. “Mmhh”.

Matt hums against your skin, the vibrations adding to the sensation. He switches to the other breast, giving it the same attention. His hands continue to explore, caressing down your sides and slipping into the waistband of your silk pijama shorts. He looks up at you, his eyes filled with desire. Your eyes full of lust and desire meets his.

Matt's hands slide further into your shorts, his fingers brushing against your warm core. He looks at you, seeking permission, which you approve, his fingers gently parting your folds. He bites his lip as he feels how wet you are, his thumb rubbing gentle circles against your clit. "So wet for me already,"

You let out small whimpers as you feel his fingers.

Matt grins wickedly, his fingers slipping inside of you. "Let's see how you take this shall we?" He pulls his hand out from your shorts and takes them off along with you panties leaving you exposed. Then he retrieves the vibrator from his pocket. He turns it on, the hum of the toy filling the room.

He runs the vibrator along your inner thighs, the cool surface sending shivers down your spine. He presses it against your clit, the vibrations making you jerk in surprise. "Oh fuck, look at you," he whispers, his eyes glued to the toy as it buzzes against your sensitive nub.

You whimper and moan as your body squirm. “Mmh fuck Matt”

Matt smirks at your reaction, pressing the vibrator harder against you. His other hand slides down, two fingers slipping inside your tight heat. "That's it baby, let me hear you," he growls, his fingers pumping in and out of you.

“Oh fuck” you moan loudly as you feel his fingers stretching you out.

Matt's fingers curl up, finding that sweet spot inside of you. He presses the vibrator harder against you, increasing the speed. His eyes flick up to your face, taking in your flushed cheeks and dilated pupils. "Look at you, taking it so well,"

“Mh Matt I’m so close” you whine and whimper pathetically.

Matt's grin widens, his fingers and the vibrator working in perfect harmony. "Come on baby, let it happen," he encourages, his voice low and husky. He adds a third finger, scissoring them inside of you as he increases the speed of the vibrator.

“Fuck Matt” you moan as you cum.

Matt holds you steady as your orgasm rips through you, the vibrator still buzzing against your clit. He keeps his fingers pumping inside of you, milking out every last drop of your climax. As you slowly come down, he turns off the vibrator and gently pulls his fingers out of your trembling pussy.

He leans up and captures your mouth in a searing kiss. "You're so responsive," he whispers against your lips, nuzzling your neck. "I'm not done with you yet." He starts unbuckling his belt, his eyes filled with determination. "I need to be inside you."

Matt finishes unbuckling his belt and unbuttons his pants, shoving them down along with his boxers. He steps out of them, standing naked before you. His hard length juts out, curving slightly upwards. He steps back between your spread thighs, wrapping his hands around your hips.

Your eyes widen at his length. “Fuck Matt… I don’t think it’s going to fit”

Matt chuckles, positioning himself at your entrance. "Oh, it'll fit. I'll make sure of that." He rubs the tip of his cock up and down your slit, coating himself in your wetness.

He slowly pushes into you, his hands gripping your hips. He looks into your eyes, his own filled with concentration. "You're so tight," he grinds out, inching deeper and deeper. He pauses halfway, letting you adjust to his size. "Okay?" he asks, his voice strained.

“Mmh mhm hurts a bit, but it’s okay” you reassure him.

Matt nods, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. He starts to move, slowly at first. He pulls out almost all the way before sliding back in, stretching you deliciously. His hips set a steady rhythm, each thrust pushing him deeper.

Then quickly the pain turned into pure pleasure. “Mmh fuck Matt”.

Matt's pace quickens as he feels your body relax around him. He hooks your legs over his shoulders, allowing him to go even deeper. The new angle has him hitting your g-spot with each thrust. "Fuck, you feel amazing," he groans, his hips snapping against yours.

“Ohhh god Matt” you keep moaning and whimpering.

Matt leans down, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. His tongue delves into your mouth, tangling with yours. He swallows your moans as he continues his relentless pace. His free hand slides between your bodies, finding your clit and rubbing it in tight circles.

Your back arches in pleasure “mmh I’m close”

Matt breaks the kiss, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Come on, baby," he urges, his fingers rubbing your clit furiously. "Cum all over my cock." He thrusts deep one last time, grinding against your g-spot as he hits your sweet spot.

“Fuuuuccckk” you moan loudly as you cum and your body shudders.

Matt lets out a low groan, feeling your walls spasm around him. He grinds against you, drawing out your release. He can feel his own release building, his body tensing as he nears the edge. With one final, deep thrust, Matt buries himself inside you and explodes, his hot seed filling your pussy. He collapses on top of you, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close as he stays buried inside you. "Fuck,"

Matt nuzzles into your neck, pressing soft kisses to your sweat-slicked skin. "You okay?" he murmurs, his voice low and slightly hoarse. He slowly pulls out of you, his softened cock slipping free.

Your still breathless but you still give him a reassuring nod. “Mhm”

Matt rolls to the side, pulling you into his arms. He brushes a strand of hair from your face, his fingers trailing down your cheek. "That was incredible," he says with a satisfied grin. He leans in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss.

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[hyejinkim]

A request from @omkookie for Mr. Hood here, since he didn't get as much reconciliation as the others. Anyways, please do enjoy the story!

"Warmth in the Weary Heart: A Spark from Small Acts of Kindness" (Mr. Hood x reader).

Warning: none, just, maybe some words are hard to understand because I'm not a native English speaker, I translated it using Google so I ask for your understanding.

The hours stretched into what felt like endless days as you continued to search for the elusive elevator that was your only means of escape from this cursed apartment. Countless times you found yourself facing off against hostile entities, only to emerge overwhelmed and exhausted. The struggle to find food and water added to your despair, yet through it all, you were fortunate enough to have Mr. Hood by your side. He served as a steadfast companion and guide, helping you navigate the dangers and keeping you company in your quest to find a pathway out of the apartment and back to your own world.

Mr. Hood's presence was a lifeline in this hopeless situation. His assistance and support went beyond just being a mere companion; he was the one who kept you grounded and prevented you from succumbing to despair. Despite the grim surroundings and the seemingly never-ending search for the elevator, you were grateful for his company and the small bit of sanity he provided in this nightmarish reality.

Despite the relentless search for an elevator to your world, you found comfort in Mr. Hood's unwavering presence. His role as your helper and companion provided a much-needed lifeline, keeping you grounded and sane amidst the seemingly endless quest. However, even in your determination to press on, you were painfully aware of your own bodily limitations, feeling the strain of the challenges you had endured.

Mr. Hood, ever observant, recognized your overwhelm and gently led you to a safe haven, away from the dangers that loomed nearby. With great care, he guided you to a nearby bed, its appearance reminiscent of a hospital bed. His movements were both elegant and gentle, his touch delicately guiding you onto the bed, treating you as if you were something precious and fragile. Once he had settled you down, as Mr. Hood then turned his attention to finding a place to rest himself. Spotting an old sofa nearby, its blue hue faded with time, he strode toward it with a slight sigh. Carefully laying his colossal axe nearby to ensure it would not pose a threat, he sank onto the sofa, the creaking sound of the worn upholstery echoing slightly in the air.

As Mr. Hood sat there quietly, his body slowly regenerating after a strenuous battle. His form had taken on a peculiar texture, smooth and soft yet firm and muscular, akin to a living mass of slime. In his relaxed state, he stretched out, inadvertently adopting a rather provocative seating position, with his legs spread wide apart. Oblivious to the presence of you, who had been covertly observing him, Mr. Hood continued to sit like that, unaware of the subtle glances cast his way. Eventually, as the silence grew between them, you couldn't help but become shy and turned their gaze away.

Mr. Hood remained blissfully unaware of you're reaction, still focused on his own thoughts. He leaned back, sinking into the chair, the soft, slime-like texture of his body adjusting to the contour of the seat. The silence between them continued, broken only by the occasional soft sound of Mr. Hood's breathing.

Finally, Mr. Hood took notice of the change in atmosphere and turned his attention towards you. He caught a glimpse of the your shy demeanor, their averted eyes and flushed cheeks, and then realization dawned upon him.

His smooth, deep voice carried a hint of worry as he questioned, "You, hurt?" The soft, yet impactful tone sent a slight shiver down your spine, causing you to shake your head in response.

"No! I'm not hurt! It doesn't hurt!..." you quickly reassured, attempting to mask any evidence of your previous observations. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't help but admit to yourself that the sight of him, clad in nothing but a simple cloth wrapping his muscular body, was strangely alluring.

Despite your attempts to downplay any injury, Mr. Hood's concern lingered. He stood up from his seat, his mind seemingly contemplating something that piqued your curiosity. Before you had a chance to decipher his thoughts, you caught a hint of a knowing smile at the corner of his lips.

He leaned back, his large frame exuding a seductive aura, his long legs parted in a challenging gesture. The dirty brown cloth wrapped around his body rode up slightly, revealing more of his form, while his muscular arms stretched out, beckoning you closer.

"You, come... here, besides me..." he commanded, his low voice laced with an invitation that sent a shiver down your spine. The sight of him, posed in such a provocative manner, left you flustered and curious. You couldn't tear your gaze away, torn between wanting to oblige and wanting to resist the temptation.

After a while, You finally gathered your courage and slowly stepped off the bed, careful not to stumble and embarrass yourself further in front of the man who had become your guardian angel.

You stood before him, your heart pounding furiously in your chest, the sound of your heartbeat echoing in your ears. Despite your predicament, you couldn't deny the familiarity of this feeling – it reminded you of a time when life was still 'normal.'

After a moment of hesitation, you felt his strong hands gently pull you towards him, maneuvering you onto one of his massive thighs. Feeling like you were engulfed in a warm embrace, you found yourself instinctively leaning against his broad body. His deep voice, uttering the two simple words 'You, rest,' held a calming authority that seemed to banish your worries.

As he wrapped you in the cloth that clung to his body, enveloping you in a soft layer of warmth and comfort, you felt your eyelids growing heavy. Gradually, the tension in your body melted away, and a sense of peace washed over you, lulling you into a deep sleep in his lap.

His large, protective arms encircled you with a gentle firmness, his body a comforting presence against your fatigue and the stresses of the day. As you slept, your head resting against his warm chest, you felt a sense of safety that hadn't been there in a long time. Each slow, steady beat of his heart echoed against your ear, a steady rhythm that lulled you further into a relaxed state. He shifted slightly, adjusting his hold on you so that you would be more comfortable without disturbing your sleep.

With you comfortably asleep in his arms, mr. Hood was finally able to relax. He shifted his position slightly, careful not to wake you as he sought to make your sleep even more pleasant. In the stillness of the room, he spoke softly, his voice gentle and filled with a tender, loving tone.

"Good night... (y/n)..." he whispered, his words a soothing lullaby in the quiet darkness.

Disclaimer! :

This art is legally mine, so I hope you don't take it without my permission first!. Some words might be hard to understand because I used google to translate it, English isn't my first language so I hope you can understand my difficulty in translating it!)

[your-internet-parental-unit]

I totally didn't find others doing this while searching for specific ships and decided to do it myself lol

All of the above/j Purple.

Ohhh that arc has so many good cats ughhhhhh it's hard to pick. In no particular order, Redtail, Firestar, Cloudtail, Brightheart, Ravenpaw

Nope, I think she was fine without one, and Dovewing is my baby, and her story wouldn't be the same without her power

Silverstream, I have to say

God, I don't actually know- GreySilver have sentimental feelings associated with them but I don't really have any strong feelings towards a lot of them(Unless you count the mention of Mousewhiskers crush on Minnowtail, then that one because I love Mousewhisker)

How fake of a fan am I if I say I didn't keep up with that? But I do know the designs and I'mma have to say either Lionheart or Longtail

I think it depends on how serious the RP is, sparkle designs can be a lot of fun but I usually do more "serious"(slightly more canon aligned) rps so my designs lean more realistic

Ok I joined deviantart really late in the game (I've only been on there for 3 years and I barely use it) so I think it's been Mushroom1Mack2 the entire time, but I used Amino a lot more, and I went by RadioAngel101 there

Jayfeather x Hazeltail is probably the closest to a crackship I have (I swear I think I'm the only person to ship them) or Brambleclaw x Leafpool for an AU (actually I have a lot of AU ships that probably count as crackships)

Her name was Speckledsong, and she was actually my WC sona for a while. She was a russet colored she-cat with black speckling/spotting along her back and face with a black tail tip and grey-blue eyes. She was a warrior of my fan clan Hawkclan and she had the ability to feel when something was right/if she was doing something right by a sensation of water running over her (very specific I know). I ended up revamping her into my OC Nightshade.

Bestie my brain does not remember that far back. The oldest AMV I remember liking was the My Mom Breezepelt AMV by Orion Fujiwara, and that was posted in 2015

He had POTIENTAL. He coulda been GREAT. But NO THEY MESSED HIM UP AND NOW I HATE HIM

How dare you not let me include skyclan/j/lh Windclan > Riverclan > Bloodclan > Shadowclan > Thunderclan

Dovewing 100% I love her she's my baby

YAY DAISY

I did not! I didn't have my own PC or laptop til last year, and before that I used aesthetic pics I found on pinterest for phone and tablet backgrounds

I think I'd be a former kittypet named Fluffy who joined Skyclan and ended up with a name like Fluffyheart or Fluffyflower or maybe even Fluffyash

I gotta say Mothwing. I love my atheist med cat

I never intentionally named any cats after canon characters, but I did give some feral cats around my grandparents house warrior names(Fernflight, Sproutkit, Owlkit, and Frecklestorm are just some of the names I gave cats)

I'm sorry I gotta pick Swiftpaw, I made an entire AU out of him and his littermate Lynxkit living to become warriors together, I have to choose him

Old School Warriors Ask Game

I haven’t made one of these before but I thought it would be fun >:3c I couldn’t ask obvious ones like “who do u think the 4th cat is” but I tried to keep these centered on heated discussions around 2009ish

1. what color is scourge’s collar?

2. top 5 the prophecies begin characters

3. should hollyleaf have had a power?

4. millie or silverstream?

5. favorite forbidden romance

6. favorite sss warriors design

7. realistic or sparkle designs for roleplay?

8. first deviantart username

9. favorite crack ship (ex. revengeshipping)

10. describe your first warriors oc

11. favorite amv prior to 2014?

12. is brambleclaw a good main character?

13. rank the clans (excluding skyclan, including bloodclan)

14. dovewing or ivypool?

15. daisy: yay or nay?

16. did you ever use fanart as your pc wallpaper?

17. what would your warrior name be and what clan would you belong to?

18. favorite medicine cat? (cutoff being oots)

19. did you name/want to name a pet after a character?

20. swiftpaw, gorsepaw, or shrewpaw?

[pankowperfection]

His to Keep

Warnings: slightly dark JJ, branding, oral (f receiving), possessive JJ, 18+

A/N: haven't written anything in a while so please be nice. Unedited

You'd hurried to keep up with him as he ran away from the council meeting, the intent to cause some trouble clear in his eyes. You knew you shouldn't leave him alone which is why you found yourself standing idly by, watching in equal parts awe and horror as he took his rage out.

You'd never seen him like this, so reckless and angry. You hated to admit it but a very small part of you was extremely turned on at the sight of him losing control.

After what felt like hours you had finally convinced him to head to your secret hide out, the perfect spot to lay low until the heat died down.

He was pacing back and forth, clearly still extremely upset about what had gone down.

"I am just so sick of this shit y/n. I never get to keep anything, it all always manages to slip right through my fingers."

He still had that wild look in his eyes. Sweat coating his tan skin, hair perfectly messy. He'd honestly never looked sexier.

"That's not true J and you know it," you attempt to reason with him. "Just look. I'm still here and I'm not going anywhere."

He gives you a dark chuckle, shadows dancing in his blue eyes in a way that makes him look nothing like the care-free surfer boy you were used to dealing with.

"Right. I'm sure it's just a matter of time before you leave too. Everyone always does."

He turns his back to you, leaning into the window frame and watching for any signs of trouble below. The way his shirt is clinging to his muscular back has your thoughts racing, desperate to find a way to calm him down.

An idea starts to form in the back of your mind, the image of him with the flame from the lighter dancing in his eyes flickering through your head, reminding you of the heat that had flushed through your system while you watched him take his own twisted sense of justice.

"I'm not going anywhere JJ. Let me prove it to you."

You quickly walk over to him, fishing around in his pocket before finding the lighter. You can see the questions dancing through his mind, wondering what you could possibly be up to. You hold it up between the two of you, knowing what you need to do to prove your loyalty.

"Mark me. Brand me with your ring so that everyone knows that I belong to you. That you own me. Permanently."

His pupils dilate, the black almost overtaking the blue as he scans your face for any kind of uncertainty. When he doesn't find any you watch the hunger take over. His lips are on you in an instant, tongue tracing the seam of your lips before demanding entry as he walks you back to the couch.

He quickly comes down on top of you, one hand tangling in your hair to angle your head just how he wants. His mouth leaves a blazing path down the column of your throat, nipping and sucking deep bruises into your skin. You know your panties are ruined, a few kisses from JJ and you could already feel the band tightening in your core.

"Fuck J, feels so good. I need you."

You feel him smirk against your skin, making quick work of your flimsy crop top to continue his handiwork. Each breast gets equal attention, teasing licks and kisses over your nipples before he sucks harshly, bruises forming instantly from the intense pressure. The build up has you babbling nonsense, begging him to please do something.

"Such a good girl f'me y/n," he whispers into your ear, his ringed fingers slowly climbing up the sensitive skin over the inside of your thigh. The cool metal makes you shiver, goosebumps spreading as he starts to slide down your body. Your knees part for him on instinct, hips arching up in search of the friction you desperately need.

He peels your shorts and panties off in one smooth motion, settling onto his knees between your parted legs. His broad shoulders pin you in place, not a single chance of getting away which only makes you wetter. You're unable to look away as his mouth trails up higher and higher, his warm breath tickling your aching pussy.

Without breaking eye contact he slides his signature ring off his finger, holding it with the end of his shirt before holding it in the flame from the lighter. The sight itself is enough to have you clenching around nothing, the warm colors from the flames bathing his tan skin in an orange glow.

"Eyes on me sweetheart," he commands, leaning down to lick an agonizingly slow stripe from your hole to your clit. Your body trembles at the simple touch, bolts of pleasure shooting straight to your pussy.

He wastes no time getting to work, his skilled tongue knowing just how to drive you crazy. The flattened surface of his tongue flicking over your clit has your eyes threatening to roll, legs starting to shake with how close to your release you are already.

At the exact right moment he presses the hot metal into the skin of your inner thigh. His free hand joins the mix, two fingers roughly thrusting into you. The pleasure mixed with the pain sends you right over the edge, falling apart with a scream as you watch him brand you.

The way his eyes are glued to his mark on your skin is one of the hottest things you've ever seen. His breathing is almost as ragged as yours, the tent in his shorts a tell tale sign of just how much he enjoyed marking you as his. By the feral look in his eyes you knew the night was far from over, hoping you had enough energy to show him just how devoted you are to being his.

[ihrthoney]

no grave can hold my body down

pairings: arkham knight!jason todd x f!reader

warnings: fluff, angst, a lil bit of suicidal thoughts but nothing too major

word count: 1.8k

an: this is a more detailed version of this post! please request jason todd fic ideas pls pls pls. sorry if theres any mistakes it’s almost midnight lol

Almost two years had passed since Bruce Wayne came to your door and revealed who he was. Nearly 730 days since your boyfriend "died". Gotham was a city full of awful crimes and even worse people but you've never hated anyone like you hated Batman.

You can understand that he tried, the guilt he must feel probably consumes him and a sick part of you is glad. Not only was your boyfriend killed, with video evidence might you add, but his body was never recovered.

Jason would hate it if you saw the video of the Joker killing him but you needed to know. It was all for naught though, you never buried a body so your brain fully believes he isn't dead.

Whether or not it was the grief of having the love of your life ripped away from you or the feeling in your gut, you know Jason isn't dead. Until there is a body in front of you, you will do anything that you can to find him.

-

It started with swallowing your pride and asking the person you loathed for help.

Bruce obviously refused, he wanted to avoid another young person's death. You caught him by surprise with how you begged for his help, he fully expected you to be mad at him, to threaten him for answers. But no, instead you got on your hands and knees and begged him for help, which somehow made it worse.

For weeks you kept reaching out to him, asking him for any clues or hints, anything at all! He has all the resources a person could ever need, he's known as the greatest detective in the world but he can't find his son?

"I've told you, Jason is... Jason is dead. You saw the video. Get out of Gotham and move on, there is nothing more I can do for you." You didn’t stop there though.

You knew of Nightwing, that he was the robin before Jason. So you reached out to him when he was on patrol. Unlike Bruce, you actually felt bad for asking for help, especially since he was working and was grieving himself.

Even through the domino mask, his face scrunched in sympathy, and as gently as he could he told you he couldn't consciously help you. He couldn't let a civilian rope themself into business they wouldn't be able to walk out of.

Understanding of his reasoning, you started going against the law. You started to sneak into offices at different police stations in Gotham (they were sloppier than you could've ever thought, no wonder people love Batman).

Given Jason's at the time profession, he taught you how to defend yourself. There was never a time you didn't carry a knife on you, but you always left your gun at home. Living in Gotham, it was best to take all and every necessary safety precautions.

Using the very low-level skills you had, you searched places that were abandoned and discarded, anywhere that Joker was ever near in the past few years. A part of you knew that what you were doing was dangerous, that if Batman had found anything he would've done so already.

But you couldn't just go to work and pretend your boyfriend wasn't out there somewhere, alive or not you had to be absolutely sure. If you died trying then so be it, it's better than living in the reality of Jason not coming home.

-

A year went by, 365 days of feeling your sanity drain out of your body. You've been caught a few times by the police for trespassing and once by Batman himself who scolded and lectured you about your activities. He was livid, upset at you willingly putting yourself in danger. You were at a higher risk of dying than he was and yet you go out in nothing but black clothes and a few weapons. He's genuinely shocked you're still alive.

After Bruce catches you, he makes sure to keep tabs on you which prevents you from going out. Even if he's busy, if he sees your tag too far out he will drag you back to your place.

There's a part of you that wants to give up, to actually take his advice and move away. But you know deep down inside nothing will put out the fire of finding Jason. Even if you moved to a different country, you know you would still look for his hair, to listen for his voice in the crowd.

Months of gaslighting yourself that he'll knock on your door and say it's just one big prank, that he was on a big mission far away and couldn't tell you to keep you safe.

Millions of excuses rolled around in your head day and night, work was a blur. Bruce even tried to compensate by offering to pay for your rent, to help you seek medical help like a therapist. You know it would do you good to rest but the guilt of leaving Jason behind was too strong. He's been through so much in his life, you wouldn't dare abandon him.

You still stayed in the apartment you were looking at with Jason, "a safehouse" he called it, you weren't even 18 at the time but you both allowed yourselves to think ahead.

Every piece of furniture you bought it with him in mind, "This would be convenient for him to hide his gear," "He likes this color, plus the blanket is soft so it'll help him sleep." Jason consumed you, call it unhealthy but he was your night in this dark city.

There was a spare bedroom, you were going to originally use it as an office/workspace but instead, it's covered in all the papers you've stolen to find him. The floor, walls and even the door were covered, overlapped, and written on with any possible clue you could've stumbled upon. It's been months since you've been able to add something that wasn't already on there. So instead, you sat in the room and just stared at it, cried, ripped things down, and put them back up with tears streaming down your face. It didn’t help that you would hear Jason’s voice soothing you whenever you cried, reassuring you whenever you were down. You knew it was your subconscious trying to console you but you liked to believe he was really there.

Then there were the hallucinations, they started back when you stumbled upon a hostage situation in an old arcade at the end of Gotham, you swear it was Jason but when the guy looked up at you all you saw was a stranger. You were stuck in the police station for hours, yelled at for stupidly interfering in a dangerous situation. The cops looked at you with annoyance now, you were nothing more than a crazy love-sick girl.

-

Lately, work has been exhausting, learning there was a new robin made your stomach swirl. It was like Batman just moved on, how is that fair? How could he move on while you were stuck chasing dead ends? Why couldn't you just accept his death?

Instead of eating dinner, you let yourself boil in whatever hot water Gotham could provide and scrubbed layers of guilt off of your skin. You put on an old shirt of his, which was horribly faded by how much you wore and washed it then curled up in bed; The bed was too big but you didn't want a smaller one in case he came back.

Usually, you triple check that your windows and doors are bolted shut but for tonight you just trusted your brain. Sometimes, it felt like it would be easier if you didn't wake up anymore, at least when you closed your eyes you could see the Jason you knew and loved.

Tonight was one of those nights where sleep was in and out, so when you felt a hand push back some hair behind your ear, you grabbed the knife under your pillow and lunged forward though there were no sounds of anyone in pain, in fact you heard the knife hit the floor.

"You have to be faster than that, sweetheart."

That voice. You would know that voice anywhere.

You blink your eyes open, slowly revealing the man you love in front of you. Except, he wasn't in front of you. This wasn't the first time he's appeared in front of you, it broke your heart all the same.

The exhaustion creeped up your throat and tears started to slip down your face, "No don't cry baby, it's okay." 'Jason' attempted to reach his hand toward you but you shook your head, backing into the corner of the bed,

"This isn't real. Go away, please. Not tonight."

The ache Jason felt in his chest at the sound of your distress hurt him in a way he's never yet experienced. His poor girl crying, thinking he wasn't real.

"I'm real baby, I promise." He calmly approaches you, kneeling on the bed, a hand reaches out towards you again,

Your head was buried on your knees as you hugged yourself into a ball, "You're not! I haven't found you! This can't be real!"

"Please look at me sweetheart."

You noticed his voice sounded different, deeper, more matured. It caused you to slowly look up, "There you are."

That's when you see him. The scars, the tired look in his eyes, the rage he's hiding behind it; There’s a difference in color in his eyes but they're beautiful all the same. They still look at you with love.

None of your hallucinations were this detailed, to be honest you couldn't imagine what he would look like after the years have passed. So to see this, you knew it was real. (Or some villain was damn good at illusions.)

He was caught off guard as you hugged him tight, he had to swallow down the feeling to pull you off. You were the exception to everything, so for now he could stomach the feeling of being held in place because he (is trying to convince himself) knows it's out of love.

You sobbed in his chest, apologizing over and over and over again, "It's okay baby, take deep breaths please."

Again, you started to shake your head, "It's not okay, I should have found you. I tried to find you, I'm so sorry!"

"I saw the room baby, I know you tried but that wasn't your responsibility." He tried to reason with you, doing what he could to calm you down. It's been years since he's seen you, years since he's dealt with anything normal, his mind is all over the place.

"Don't say that, I love you Jace. I would rather die than stop looking."

Jason tensed at the phrase, after everything it's hard to believe you, to believe any of this but he wanted to see you. He had to.

A hand found its way in your hair, holding you close to his chest, "You did good honey, thank you for trying."

Lifting your head from his chest, you looked into his eyes, "I would do anything for you, I need you to know that."

He can only offer a small smile, he knows you did and there's a small piece of his heart that can rest knowing you didn't forget him, that you still loved him.

He hopes he can learn to love you again, too.

part 2? lmk down below :)

© ihrthoney. reblogs & feedback are greatly appreciated𑁤

[inmyheaddd]

walkin’ out the door with your bags — part 6

⤷ “i’m not the type to run, i know we’re having fun,”

summary: you and gigi are peacefully enjoying your day, when you find out, grayson’s… back? and he wants to talk. what could go wrong? wc: 3.0k masterlist || part 1 || part 2 || part 3 || part 4 || part 5

14 years old… 

you found him hiding in the library.  

he was slumped in the corner, knees pulled to his chest, head buried in his arms. at first, you weren’t sure it was him—grayson hawthorne never looked so… small. 

his usually pristine shirt slightly wrinkled like he’d been tugging at the hem, and it wasn’t tucked in. he didn’t look straight at you when you stepped in, but he didn’t tell you to leave either.  

“what do you want?” his voice cracked, but he tried to sound cold.  

you didn’t answer. instead, you sat down beside him, legs crossed, like it was the most normal thing in the world. 

he blinked at you, waiting for an explanation, but you just shrugged. years of knowing each other, and it always went down like this. 

“company.” you picked a random book off the nearest shelf and flipped it open. “you can pretend i’m not here.”

he didn’t reply.

minutes passed. long enough that you thought maybe he really would ignore you. at one point, you began actually reading the book you were pretending to read, and nearly forgot about the boy beside you.

but then, out of nowhere, he spoke.

“i don’t know what to do.” he admitted slowly. “there’s this girl… emily,” he said, his voice low, and you felt your heart beat faster. “and… my brother. jameson.”

your chest tightened, though you weren’t sure why. your kept your gaze fixed on the pages of your book, but your hands had stopped turning the pages.

“what about them?” you asked carefully, glancing at him for a second.

he ran a hand through his hair. “she’s… complicated. and jameson—he doesn’t think. he just jumps into things, never stops to think what it might do to everyone else.”

you hesitated, breath hitching as you studied the way he wouldn’t look straight into your eyes. whatever this was, clearly meant a lot.

he continued, looking down at the floor. “it gets repetitive. jameson, emily—they don’t think about the damage until it’s too late. and then they leave me to clean it up. and stupidly, for some reason, i do. i always do.”

you’ve seen grayson sad before, but this was different. he looked… lost. and angry. and for someone like grayson, who always carried himself like he had the whole world in order, it was jarring.

“you’re allowed to be mad, you know,” you said.

that made him pause. “i’m not mad,” he said, but the words sounded like a blatant lie.

your shoulders were barely touching , but the act alone felt larger than anything else. 

you tilted your head, a soft smile growing on your face. “okay, then you’re… frustrated? dissapointed? annoyed? irritated? pick your adjective.”

that earned the tiniest flicker of a smile, and your chest felt a little lighter, but then it disappeared just as quickly. he looked at you then, and something about the way his eyes searched your face made your breath catch.

“sometimes, i think you’re the only person who actually sees me,” he said quietly.

your heart stuttered, and for a second, you couldn’t think of anything to say. 

but then you smiled, “of course i see you,” you rolled your eyes jokingly like he hadn’t just sincerely confirmed that he really did see you as a friend, after years of just feeling like you pestered him. 

your cheeks reddened, “i’m your friend, that’s what i’m here for.” 

“but, you know,” you continued, “you’re surrounded by people who care about you,” you said softly, taking the focus away from you, and back to being there for grayson. “just let yourself see it. don’t push them away.”

his head snapped up at that, his sharp eyes meeting yours. “but people never just… stay.” he mumbled. “they have their own lives, their own motives.”

you stayed. you always would. “that doesn’t mean you have to shut everyone out,” you said, your voice steadier now.

“not everyone’s going to hurt you, grayson. but you won’t know that if you keep closing the door before anyone gets close. i mean, i annoyed you for so many years straight even when you pushed me away.” you said. 

“not everyone has my extreme level of patience and willingness to accept moody brooding.” you joked to lighten the moment, but there was truth behind it, he couldn’t expect people to stick around if he pushed them away.

he stared at you for a long moment, and something in his expression cracked, like he wanted to believe you but didn’t quite know how yet. 

he looked back at the floor, “you never actually irritated me,” he admitted, “and i never hated you. perhaps you’re right, i don’t… i don’t like to let people in.” 

you shrugged casually, “i’m always right.” 

he looked at you with a newfound softness in his eyes. “you’re annoyingly persistent, you know that?” he said finally, your shoulders still brushing against each other. 

“oh, i know.” you grinned. “if i wasn’t, we wouldn’t be friends right now.” you said with a small smile. “someone’s gotta stick around to remind you you’re not as alone as you think.”

for a while, neither of you said anything. grayson leaned his head back against the wall, letting out a long, quiet breath. 

that was when you knew he was replaying your words, letting them sink in—even if he wouldn’t say it outloud. 

— 

present

after days of confusion and radio silence from grayson, you finally told yourself that you were done overthinking. gigi had dragged you to your favorite ice cream shop for a much-needed distraction. 

the two of you sat at your usual table near the front, the smell of waffle cones and the soft hum of background music lulling you back into some sense of normalcy. that was until gigi leaned closer, her voice a hushed whisper.

“don’t look now, but…” gigi trailed off, her eyes going behind you once again. “grayson is kind of, um, here. and sitting behind you.” 

considering gigi had made very careful effort to not even mention his name around you — even when you persisted you didn’t care— hearing graysons name come from her lips stunned you for a moment, then you realized what she had just said. 

“what?” you whispered in shock, and then you turned around before you could think it twice. 

there were quite a few people in the shop, so there was quiet chatter mixed with the background music, but it all seemed to silence. 

but there he was, grayson hawthorne, sitting in the back of the empty icecream shop, glasses on typing on his computer.

‘who did he think he was?’ you thought, ‘coming to our— my place? the one that i introduced him to?’ 

you focused on the anger so you wouldn’t feel anything else. 

what on earth was he doing here? who the hell comes to an ice cream shop and doesn’t even get anything? and does what, office work? and who—

he looked up through his glasses, and you realized to late that you were sort of… full blown staring. 

he met your eyes for the briefest of seconds as you turned your head back around. 

“holy cow…” gigi mumbled as she looked down at her icecream, “he’s giving you a major longing stare right now.”

“okay,” you hummed, raising your eyebrows momentarily in lieu of a shrug that he would he able to see, “i don’t care.”

“sure you don’t,” she replied knowingly, dragging her spoon through her melting sundae. you gave her a look that said you didn’t agree, and that you seriously did not care, but she didn’t say anything. 

a beat passed before gigi suddenly grinned. “okay. in five seconds, i’m giving him a major angry glare.” she mumbled under her breath. 

“gigi, do not.”

“three…

“seriously, don’t.”

“two… one. i’m doing it!”

“gigi!”

she tilted her head back up, and bless her heart,��gave her best attempt at a seething glare at grayson. 

it was sort of impossible for her to look angry with her wide blue eyes, no matter how hard she furrowed her brows. 

and she didn’t let up at it for a few seconds, then raised her eyebrows — half surprised and half amused. “ha,” she grinned to herself and fisted the air. “he looked away first. loser.” 

he was probably just crazily confused, you reckoned. 

“okay,” you chuckled under your breath, your cheeks reddening by the second. “um, should we leave now?”

“no,” gigi whined, taking a bite of her icecream. “that’ll make it obvious we’re mad. besides, i haven’t finished my icecream.” 

“well, i think that look you gave him made it more obvious,” you told her, and she only laughed as she shook her head. “but alright.” 

it wasn’t long before you left. you didn’t even have an appetite any more, and you were too overly aware of a presence behind you to focus on anything else. gigi finished her icecream promptly. 

the drive home was quiet. gigi hummed along to the radio, her mood as bright as ever, but you couldn’t shake the tightness in your chest. 

your thoughts churned, questions you’d been trying to bury for a few days swirling all over again.

“you’re quiet,” gigi said after a while, her tone soft. she glanced at you, concerned, but you only shook your head, trying to force a small smile.

“just tired,” you mumbled.

gigi didn’t push, and you could tell she didn’t buy it.

you pulled into the driveway and sat there for a moment, the car engine ticking softly as it cooled. gigi patted your arm before grabbing her bag and heading inside.

you smiled and nodded, muttering something like ‘i’ll meet you inside,’ and you stayed behind for a moment, staring at the steering wheel.

your phone was put on silent, then you scrolled through your notifications. 

grayson 

— Hi, I believe I saw you and Gigi today

you

— yeah haha i think gigi told me she saw you  i thought you were gone for 8 days? — it’s nice to see you back

grayson 

— Likewise. — I think we should talk, It’s been long overdue. 

a scoff escaped before you could stop it. the audacity.

your fingers moved before your brain could catch up.

you

— ok — talk then 

grasyon

— Would you be alright with talking in person?

you 

— yeah sure whatever — where?

grayson

— I’ll come to you.

you

— maybe not — i don’t want to disturb gigi

grayson

— Our park spot, then?

you

— ok

your heart slammed in your chest. you sat there for a moment, staring at the screen wordlessly, trying to process what just happened. 

our? how could he even still use that word?

this was happening, you were going to talk to grayson for real this time. you anticipated it wouldn’t end good. things with him were rarely easy.

you put on your headphones to numb your thoughts, pulled on a hoodie, and made your way out the house. 

the playground was completely empty, which was usually how it was when you and grayson used to go. the sun was already beginning to set when you walked out of your house, and it was fully dark once you arrived, making your way toward your spot. the bench.

it wasn’t anything special—just a worn wooden bench tucked away at the edge of the playground. but it had been yours. you and grayson’s.

he was already there when you arrived, sitting with his elbows resting on his knees, staring at the ground like it might have the answers he needed.

you sat down on the opposite end of the bench, keeping a deliberate distance. “okay,” you said, crossing your arms. “talk.” the park was eerily quiet, the air cooling rapidly as the sun finally disappeared behind the trees. the bench felt cold under your fingers as you sat down, the weight of the moment settling in.

his eyes flicked to yours, and for the first time, you thought you saw a hint of guilt there. 

you were both silent for a few seconds, before you looked away, down at the floor.

“fine, if you won’t talk, i will.” you muttered. 

“grayson,” you sighed, “you can’t just—” you started, your voice breaking slightly before you caught yourself. 

you cleared your throat, willing the tears to stay put. “you can’t just disappear and then show up like nothing happened. like i’m supposed to just... what? forget it?”

he inhaled, then hesitated. “you know, i never meant it to be like this. i didn’t mean for it to feel like that.” he said quietly, his tone so calm that it just made you more angry.

“feel like what, grayson?” you finally snapped your head towards his. “like you were ignoring me? like you couldn’t be bothered to let me know what was going on? because that’s exactly what it felt like.”

his jaw tightened, but he didn’t say anything.

“that’s it?” you scoffed, followed by a bitter laugh as you sat up straight. “you disappear, you come back, and all you’ve got is ‘i didn’t mean for it to feel like that?’”

he wielded silence like a weapon, just like he always had.

you continued, still. “what’s going on with you? you’re acting so— so different, i barely even recognize you.”

he let out a breath as he looked away, running a hand through his hair. “please, don’t make this harder than it already is,” he started, his voice calm but careful. “yes, we are good friends, but we’ve tarnished that too far for us to ever be simply friends again.”

“what? grayson,” you said through a forced laugh, “what are you even saying right now?” you knew precisely what he was saying. 

“you’re a good person.” he said, almost sounding like he was begging for you to see his point, “you’re a lovely person, the most caring and funniest person i’ve met. you deserve better, i’m not the person for you.” 

“grayson, what is wrong with you?” you couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity at what you were hearing, but you were so frustrated at his… selfishness.

“i want you, you want me, right? it’s that simple! just let us be us.”

“it’s never that simple.” he shook his head, that one strand falling back into his face. his brows furrowed slightly like the words hurt him to say.

“it is that simple! you’re making no sense, just— just stop.” you stood up, and he followed, fear flashing in his eyes momentarily. 

you took a slow step away from him.

“you kissed me! you kissed me.” your voice crackled, and you swallowed thickly, forcing yourself to keep going. “if you knew from day one that you couldn’t do this, you should’ve just spared me the effort and left me alone.”

he looked at you like you’d shot a dagger through his heart, though his eyes were the only thing that showed it. were you being unfair? probably. but in your eyes, you had every right to be. 

as much as both of you hated to admit, his eyes were far too easy for you to read. they were like a language only you were fluent in, like you could have a whole conversation without even speaking.

now, all they said was pain. 

“you’re the only thing making things more difficult, gray.” you hated the way your voice trembled. 

low blow after low blow. but he deserved it. 

all those nights you’d spent together? he knew you inside and out, what hurts you, what doesn’t, and exactly how you love.

he knew all of that, and he still thought that leaving because things were difficult was going to be the right thing.

this couldn’t be real.

“look at us, don’t you see it?” he motioned between the two of you, like whatever was happening was a tangible thing he could see. “we’re fighting like this, and we’re not even together. we’re going to ruin each other.”

ruin each other? is that what he thought? god knows how many years of friendship, a pretty perfect friendship too, and he thought making something official would lead to you ruining each other? 

you weren’t fighting with him, you were trying to fight for him. for the chance of you actually being something more. 

“we can’t do this.” his voice felt so detached, but his eyes looked so hurt at the same time. he didn’t getto feel hurt, not when it was his fault. “we’ll just end up hurting eachother, and i don’t want to hurt you.”

you nodded silently, willing your tears back. every inch of you you wanted to scream in his face, “you already have! you coward.”

he was doing nothing but hurt you these past few days.

instead, you nodded, biting the inside of your cheek to keep the tears at bay.

“yeah,” you said, pressing your lips together as you nodded again. “alright. i get it. that’s it then?”

grayson’s eyes narrowed for a split second like he was confused. 

was he surprised? did he think you were going to hang on longer? because you weren’t. you’d spent far too much energy on him. you always saw him as someone worth spending you time on, someone worth trying to figure out, someone you wanted to know.

but you understood now: he didn’t want you to figure him out because he didn’t even know who he was himself. he was scared. but that wasn’t an excuse; you were terrified, and you still were. 

love had always been your fatal flaw, the one thing you were unsure of, but you were willing to dive in head first because it was grayson. 

he just didn’t feel as deeply though. 

you didn’t want to figure him out, and you didn’t want to know anything about him anymore. 

he didn’t answer right away. instead, he looked at you, and for a moment, his mask slipped. his eyes—those stupid, stupid eyes— almost made you want to feel sorry for him. he looked vulnerable, but you were too angry to let it affect you this time.

“i… yes.” grayson finally said, sounding unsure of himself for once in his life. “i suppose that’s it.”

“good,” you nodded as your crossed your arms, “because i don’t want to hear what you have to say ever again.“ 

he reached his hands out but quickly let his arms fall back, curling his fingers into a fist. 

he looked at you like he didn’t know what to say, his mouth opening and closing before he finally settled on just staying silent.

you still felt like there was a million unspoken words that needed to be said, but you turned and walked away. 

for once, you didn’t wait to see if he’d try again.

you willed your feet to move and not think about how he looked behind you, because if you did, even for a second, you had a feeling you’d turn right back. 

a/n: guys it gets better i swear they’ll be happier than ever soon 🙏 taglist: @x-liv25-jamieswife @wish-i-were-heather @thecircularlibrary @whatsamongus @littlemissmentallyunstable

@anintellectualintellectual @lovethornes @maybxlle @sheisntyou @emelia07

 @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @charsoamerican @hxress23 @imaseabear 

@clarissaweasley-10 @off-to-the-r4ces @thelov3lybookworm @graysw1fe @lanterns-and-daydreams 

@hermesenthusiast @elysianwayy77 @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @apollosmusee

[soo0hee]

Fun Time

Pairing — Chwe Hansol x afab!Reader

Summary — Visiting your brother you met one of his member. To bad that you liked to have a little fun... Requested by @cyd0129 , i hope you like it!

Genre — fluff

Warnings — none

Word Count — 1.1k

Rating — sfw

A/N — @tusswrites & @svtiddiess thanks for brainstorming this with me <3

Disclaimer: this fic is written and copyrighted by ©soo0hee on tumblr. do not rewrite or repost on any other plattforms without my permission.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED!

Visiting your brother at his job was always fun. Watching him turn simple melodies and beats into full fledged songs that would maybe, possibly, end up on an album of their group always gave you a sense of calmness that you rarely ever got to feel.

And while the Universe Factory was almost like a meeting point of Seventeen members, you had never gotten to meet every single one of them. It was funny almost but Woozi had always been a little mysterious when it came to his family, so neither you, nor the members who knew about you were surprised about their producer keeping this detail to himself.

And Woozi wanted to protect himself from the chaos that was doomed to happen if you and certain members of his were to ever meet eachother.

To protect his piece of mind, is what he told you once over dinner at your apartment. You had cackled at his serious expression but accepted his reasoning knowing that you indeed could be a little menace if you wanted to.

With your from your brother requester personal lanyard dangling from your neck and bubble tea in your hand you walked through the lobby of the Hybe Building. It surprised you how well recognition system worked as you remembered last times visit where you had needed almost 20 minutes and a staff members help to actually get inside.

Walking up to the elevator with your earbuds blasting music straight into your brain, you took out your phone to text your brother of your incoming arrival when you noticed the text he had send you a bit ago.

Universe Factory is empty. Am in Studio 7. Meet me there? – received 2:31 pm

For a moment your brain blanked just as the Elevator arrived with a Ding.

The Universe Factory you knew where to find, Studio 717 however you had no idea. It was a practice room, that much you knew, but when it came to the location, you were absolutely lost.

Maybe you should ask someone? One of the staffs? No, they had already stared like you had frown to heads when you walked in with your own Lanyard! There was no need for you to receive those stares a second time.

So you pressed the Button with the number 7, hoping that the first number of the studio was the indicator of the Level you had to go to.

The doors closed and you went up just to stop at the second floor.

A familiar face appeared behind the door. A face that you had seen a million times already on press pictures, photo shootings or the group selcas Woozi loved to send you every then and now.

A few that had yet to meet you however.

Vernon was one of those members that you were being hidden from, until now.

The hip hop team maknae only nodded in acknowledgement, eyes fixed on the lanyard to verify that you had the right to be there.

He pushed the button to the 9th floor.

“You going to the finance department?” Vernon asked smoothly in korean.

An idea struck you that couldn’t passed up.

Fanning confusion you stared back at him and answered in perfect English with, “I’m sorry, what?”

It took Vernon a second to make the switch in language before asking again if you were going to the finance department. This time in english.

“Uhm, no. I was actually searching for the Studios… I have an appointment there.” You said without feeling bad for lying, internally groaning that your hopes of your destination being on the 7th floor had been crushed just like that.

“The Studios are on the 8th floor.” Vernon answered, eyebrow raised in suspicion.

That one you knew. But-

“And the practice rooms? I need to be in 717 to meet someone.”

Now that made the Rapper curious. 717 was their Practice room! What was a stranger like doing in their practice room?!

Admittedly, a very beautiful stranger, but a stranger none the less.

“Uhmm, I could take you? It’s where I’m headed right now! But only if you tell me what kind of business you have there.” He offered. You could clearly hear the teasing tilt in his voice.

You played along.

“I’m a new choreographer. They called me to take a look at a choreography for what I’m guessing is your group if you are headed there. Preparation for a new comeback?”

The elevators door opened on the 7th floor.

Vernon swallowed. A new choreographer meant changes to the already existing choreo and he prayed that wasn’t the case.

The elevator closed.

He hummed quietly, agreeing with the last part.

“Yeah, I’m from Seventeen. Vernon.”

“Nice to meet you Vernon. I’m y/n. Pleased to meet you.” You grinned and bit your lip to prevent laughing out loud at the dumbfound face he made.

Vernon on the other hand had trouble to keep his composure. Something about the way you smiled at him and the accent of your English had his ears heat up.

Once the Elevator opened again, he almost fled out into the hallway while you slowly followed with a snicker hidden by your head over your mouth.

“This way please!”

The member od Seventeen were known to be a magnet for chaos and this was proven again when you could hear the loud screams of who you guessed would be Seokmin and Mingyu behind the closed door.

Vernon snorted at the sounds his members made inside. Reminding him of a seal at times like this.

Like a gentleman Vernon opened the door and let you inside. There were only a few members of the group, one being your brother and almost none of the staff.

“Did someone know that we have a new chorographer?” he yelled in korean towards the guys, thinking that you weren’t able to understand him like this.

It was comical how fast all heads whipped around to stare at him.

Woozi groaned upon seeing you standing behind Vernon while grinning like a cat.

The few members who had recognized you smiled in amusement.

“Aish! Lee y/n! Did you prank him? Vernon-ah, this isn’t a choreographer. She’s my sister.” The producer sighed and rubbed his forehead.

“Ah Jihoon-ah, why rat me out so fast?” you complained with a whine.

Vernon, confused and a little dazed at the turn of events had to pick his jaw up from the floor. Stammering at you with a pout. Joshua patted his back while passing him.

“I see you have met y/n.”

“She- she’s not a-“

“All she is, is a brat!” Jihoon answered and slapped the back of your head gently with his bag slung over his shoulder, ready to leave.

“You’re no fun Jihoon-ah.” You called after him.

“Just come with me so we can get some food!” was the response echoing from the hallway.

You turned back to Vernon.

“It was nice to meet you, Vernon. I hope I’ll see you soon.”

With a wink and a flip of your hair you were out the door and gone.

The American slowly turned to Seokmin who didn’t bother holding back his laughter.

“And? What do you say?”

“Hyung…” the younger forced out star struck. “I think I’m in love…”

[sweetheartsaku]

(BLLK) just say the word.

𝜗𝜚 MIKAGE REO: RANUNCULACEAE.

a/n: [fem!reader] OMGG exam szn is finally over gais i am free!! i still have so many tests to do tho🙁 AND YES the title is a keshi reference

when mikage reo has a crush on you, he’s the type of boy to use your initials as his math variables. you’re all he ever thinks about, ever since he’s been rotted by the sugars of your kindness and presence. you were like his first and last breeze of air mixed in with love and refreshments. he had been enchanted by your soul, knotting his head and heart with yours. you’re all he ever wants to be around, and you have unconsciously seeped into his life like blood into a white sheet. a love that just keeps leaking, changing its colour completely.

SAY THE WORD, AND I'LL BE YOURS

when mikage reo realises, he can’t help but stare at you lovingly. his eyes are glued to you focusing on your tutor work he had given you, your pencil rapidly yet gently moving across the paper. his eyes are so tender and earnest, staring at you like you had hung up the stars yourself. reo finds himself instinctively caressing a stray hair from your face, his violet eyes still endearingly gazing. instantly, a pink hue graces across his face as his eyes meet yours.

THE LOOK YOU'RE GIVING ME GIVES YOU AWAY

when mikage reo steals your heart, he’s the type of guy to take his time into untangling your silver necklace. the one he had gifted you on your 6th month anniversary, that glistens in the sun. it’s chains are pristine, yet tangled tight, just like the way he had found himself when he fell for you (and does everyday). he smiles at the thought as his tongue sticks out slightly in concentration, one of your favourite habits of his. as a tease, you like to kiss the spot his tongue is before he can pull away. he loves to feel your face close to his, because it feels like his soul is too. he takes the time to untangle your necklace with his initial on the simple charm, even before the date’s expensive booking, he is gentle in unstringing every weaved chain.

YOU FINALLY FOUND THE HIGH THAT YOU'VE BEEN CHASING

when mikage reo falls impossibly deeper, he calls you all the time. not texting, because he knows you won’t listen. reo will call to make sure you eat lunch. reo will call to make sure you have your medicine. reo will bring you your favourite beverage and makes sure to remind you to take a break. reo will do everything he can to take care of you, because to him, when you came into his life, time is definitely more expensive than money. reo will take the time to make sure you are well fed and rested. his favourite part though is when you’re apart. don’t get me wrong, he hates it, but when you’re calling him and quietly telling him you miss him, his heart pounds against his chest a little more. and yes, he lets out a boyish chuckle once you’ve fallen asleep.

ONLY ONE MORE CHOICE YOU GOT TO MAKE

when mikage reo who never forgives himself when you have your first fight. after 6 gracious years, he finds himself living the day he could never fathom. yes, he had forgotten to buy your favourite snack at the convenience store, and he says he swears he will never forgive himself. how could you ever love him again? is what runs through his mind as he curls up against the couch, knees on his chest not feeling privileged enough for a blanket, nor feeling privileged enough to lie down with you in the bed in the room nearby. till then you, realising your fiancé’s absence, cluelessly searching for him, you gasp softly as you find reo all small on the couch. you sit next to him, but he inches away. he can’t help but confess his sins, but it all melts away when you lightly giggle at his silly habits.

I NEED YOU TO TELL ME 'CAUSE I

when mikage reo gets to be held in your arms, he melts completely. he feels his body go putty, his eyelids struggling to stay open to stare at your stunningly sculpted features. his teeth feels like he’s rotting, and his heart aches with an abundance of love. reo nestles his head in the junction between your chin bottom of your neck, absorbing every molecule of love he can. there is nothing he would want more than to unwind, cozily tucked into the embrace of his most beloved, sweetheart, and future wife.

IN MY ARMS FOR A SECOND

when mikage reo finally has you for himself, his brows twitch at the sight of your gorgeous figure, walking down the aisle. tears brim at the bottom of his eyes as you smile at him, taking your last steps in front of him. glitter highlighting the apple of your cheeks, lashes fluttering through the brown mascara and the necklace he untangled 5 years ago dangling off your collarbone. there was not a single moment in the world he would trade for this one. he finally smiles through the tears that stream down his cheeks, sliding the silver ring across the hand that once wrote tutor worksheet answers. it glistens in the sun, he thinks, just like you do.

BABY, SAY THE WORD, AND I'LL BE YOURS

mikage reo’s breath hitches. this is where he is. he is currently playing with his one-year-old, her incoherent babbles filling the silence strung into the air. reo finds himself laying on his stomach on a soft carpet next to scattered toys and various oils and creams for his little version. everything about this surreal moment had all gathered together to grasp onto the base of his neck, clenching onto him as tight as they can, making a lump form in his throat. his little version gently pats his nose, confused why her dad suddenly stop activating. he can’t help but tenderly smile at her, swallowing the lump as he lets a tear fall. your one-year-old innocently wipes it away. she must’ve got her kindness from you. he smiles, because thats what made him fall for you in the first place.

now, your initials have changed. guess he’s gotta fix those math equations, huh?

JUST SAY THE WORD.

[lazyjellyfish300]

H-hey mootie

So it’s my birthday this week

So if you would make a blurb about drider!Miguel killing readers shitty husband then fucking her 🕷️

I would love it 🥺🥺🥺

Yes it’s Halloweeny that’s cause I didn’t have the energy to write it myself no matter the word count or format I know you can do it Justice!! Love ya!!

YES U CAN MY WONDERFUL MOOT. 🎉🎂 Dedicated to the amazing moot 🖤 HAPPY BIRTHDAY ILYYY 🕸️🕷️ @cullen-rutherford-wifey

Huge thanks to my moot adqui for the Spanish translation help, and to @politemenacephd for the inspiration and their flawless Drider!Miguel smut in Arachnophilia that helped me a ton with this fic. 🖤

can I be him

CW: MINORS DNI, X FEM!READER, MONSTERFUCKING, SMUT, P IN V, LOTS OF CUM, NIPPLE PLAY, LIGHT BONDAGE, SPIT, BREEDING, CREAMPIE, ANAL PLAY(idk if that's what it's called) EDGING, DRIDER!MIGUEL, ANGST, MUTUAL PINING, SLIGHTLY STALKER ISH BEHAVIOR, GRAPHIC BLOOD AND VIOLENCE, DOMESTIC DISPUTE, YOU HAVE A SHITTY HUSBAND, MURDER, INFIDELITY, A DARKER PIECE PLS PLSSSSS MIND THE WARNINGS.

Words 6.1k

Miguel shouldn't be doing this. But he can't help it. It was wrong to watch you like this. To want you like this. 

The warm glow cast by the screen floating in front of him softened his chiseled features as he gazed longingly at you through the portal of dimensions that kept you apart. 

A gorgeous, living variant of his own version of you that he could not save. The only one out of thousands he had come across. And believe that when he first lost you, his unfathomable grief kept him searching, scouring, waiting, hoping for months that there was one more universe out there where death didn't rip you away. 

And the first he discovered just had to be one where you belonged to someone else. 

Dated for almost five years now. Married for going on three. And the kicker was that bastard didn't even deserve you. 

The multiverse was cruel. In every other reality, tragedy irrevocably tainted the legacy of Miguel O'Hara. 

Always so close, and yet, never finding peace in any set of cards he was coldly dealt. 

In this particular dimension he was watching you from, he was a mutant with his top half being that of a man and the lower half, that of a spider. A large abdomen adorned in fuzzy black hair with eight enormous thick legs like a tarantula and venomous fangs, irises of bleeding crimson to match. He was a drider. A monster, as far as he was concerned. 

But there were times when he'd watch you that he'd allow himself to be crazy enough to dream that you could love someone like him.

At least in his mind he wasn't chained back by his fears and insecurities. At least for now in the sanctity of his office, your shitty husband didn't exist and you weren't lightyears away in an opposite plane of reality. You could be free to be all his, monstrous features be damned.

A version of you loved him once, would it really be all that far fetched to think you could possibly learn to love him again?

---

Another long day ended. You exhaled a weary sigh as you left the cold of late fall that was descending quickly into winter in the icy world behind you. Closing the door to your house that seldom felt like home these days. 

You supposed your life was okay, but still you wouldn't have chosen it had you known this feeling of monotony would haunt you everywhere you went.

From your job, to sometimes family, but most of all your marriage. Nearly all your life, you felt out of place, but never quite like this. You supposed it started as early as nine months into your relationship with your now husband. 

When he stopped buying flowers, when his texts became fewer, hours at work became longer, his patience shorter. You chalked it up to the unpredictable ebbs and flows of love.

"Love isn't perfect. Not all rainbows and butterflies," you were told time and time again. 

When your husband wanted to, he could be great. When he was bad, he could be exceptionally worse. But how could you be so sure? With practically nothing to compare it to, you supposed this was simply the path that was carved out for you. Mediocrity may be disappointing but passion alone couldn't keep a roof over your head. Stability was still a wiser thing to choose than comfortability. 

Even so, on the eve of your birthday, the empty spot next to you in bed that you slowly became accustomed to delivered that sharp reminder of just how lonely you really were. 

Tears fell and seeking solace, you shamelessly indulged and allowed your mind to visualize him. That mystery man from afar who haunted your dreams and took up permanent residence in your mind with his bewitching crimson eyes. Sometime around when you suspected the love your husband once had for you had all but ceased. 

You don't know why, but this being seemed to call for you, seemed to speak to you. To that forgotten part inside that for the life you couldn't explain why it remained empty.

It was almost like a cosmic bond to him, an adept yearning. An invisible lining etched into your very being that somehow recalled him in a different life. That gorgeous face without a name. 

Miguel. 

----

Miguel stirs awake, realizing he was a victim of sleep while watching you. His attention is called immediately to a growing spat between you and your husband. 

"I asked a simple fucking question, John. Where. were. you."

"And I GAVE YOU A SIMPLE FUCKING ANSWER. Don't. fucking. worry. about. it." 

Miguel sits up, high on alert, spider senses kicking in. Something about John's tone this time was highly unsettling. 

"You know what, I've lost count by now, John..." You flung your hands in the air, weary, defeated and broken down by the endless disappointment, tear soaked trails running from your eyes that hadn't stopped since last night. "But of all the days out of the year...you just couldn't keep it in your pants on my fucking birthday..." 

"Do you fucking hear yourself??" John screamed.  "Nobody said anything about cheating! Where in this entire conversation has there ever even a hint about cheating? I'll fucking tell you: NONE." He points an accusatory finger. "You brought this all on yourself, not me!" 

"It was Carla again, wasn't it." You nodded with a tearful sob, pacing around the living room.  "Carla, fucking, Carla..."

Maybe fixing these pillows could distract you from the agonizing realization that you were reliving the nightmare of John's infidelity. Going on three for three when you thought the first and second time he had learned enough. 

"I didn't sleep with goddamn Carla!!" John grabs a mug and hurls it at the wall. 

That's it. Miguel draws a portal immediately. His yearning had reached a breaking point, and this fight was all the push he needed to come to shove. Miguel O'Hara normally obeyed the rules, but this version of him was unlike the others. 

No rule was above being broken when it came to the lengths he would go for you. 

"Real fucking mature, John. What are you gonna do huh? Gonna hit me, choke me?? Maybe then you'll actually be half the man you think you are!" 

"Ohhh you fucking little..." 

But before the worst can happen, an otherworldly threat makes itself known with a random buzzing orange window opening, allowing an enormous half man, half spider through. 

You and your husband scream in horror, your conflict between you temporarily forgotten. 

"Shit shit SHITTTT!!! WHAT THE FUCK!! John what's happening??" 

"I don't fucking know..." John mumbles in disbelief, flinching as Miguel's long legs pound on the hardwood floor, echoing under his formidable size. His eyes appeared menacing, deeply laced with venomous dislike as he glowered at John, but seemed to soften, if not only for just a fleeting moment when they landed on you. 

"If...if we both don’t get out of this. I need to tell you something" John mumbles almost incoherently as your fingers dug into his arm. 

"W-what?" You turn to look at John, at this face that housed a soul inside it that you once knew but no longer recognized. Almost wordlessly appealing to whatever final shred of respect he had left inside for you as a last ditch effort to give you some semblance of the man you once loved. 

"I ruined everything. Your sister and I fucked. Just know, I'm sorry..."

And before you could even have a moment to compute that final godforsaken dagger he had the nerve to drive into your heart, he shoved you in the way of the monster like a piece of meat so he could save his cowardly ass. 

"JOHN!" the sound was wretched and broken. Devasted by betrayal. You shrieked in fear and brought your arms over your head, prepared to absorb whatever immense pain was about to wrack your whole body, praying frantically for a quick death. 

But, you gasped in alarm when no such fate arrived and Miguel charged headfirst at your fleeing coward of a husband, pinning him to a wall as nearby photographs came down with crash of splintering glass. 

His head hit the wall with a deafening crack, a dark pool of maroon beginning to leak from behind him and drip out of his nose. 

He yelled but the sound was quickly muffled as Miguel's calloused hands wrapped around his throat, a couple trails of blood oozing down his fist.  

"B-babe....aacghkk...please m'ergh sorry, I'm..." John tried to choke out, his teeth now coated in sheer red from where he bit his tongue, quiet trickles audible as the blood from his head seeped onto the floor underneath him.  

Miguel was only moments away from crushing his windpipe, but he untensed his jaw when he heard you trying to catch your breath on the floor. He turned, taking note of how helpless and fearful you looked. 

Though it would have given him immense pleasure to pull the plug, he had to think of you first. 

"Do you mind?" He merely asks, his eyes cold as his fingers tightened just a bit. 

"P-please..." John croaks. "Please...Babe..."

You're still reeling from anger that was slowly turning to anguish. As you looked at John, for the first time you felt nothing. It only took years and him nearly sacrificing you before himself for you to wake up and realize the sorry shell of a man he had turned into. 

"Goodbye, John." You uttered like venom and turned away as you heard the sickening crackle and then wet sound of choking blood as Miguel snapped John's neck in half. 

----

"You okay?" 

"Fine."

Miguel could tell you were lying. After swiftly disposing of the body in a different dimension and washing up, he had came back to discover you hadn't moved an inch from your spot on the floor. Your numbness kept you anchored, gazing into the haunting abyss of the blood spatter that remained on the wall. 

"Hey, easy now. " Miguel murmured as you finally began to stand up. 

"I can handle my own, thanks." 

"Of course, I mean..." He clears his throat, stomach uneasy when you became short with him. "Sorry."

You two sat opposite each other in the living room with you and on the couch and Miguel on the floor as that was the only space that could accommodate him. 

Sometime during the seemingly infinite silence, you realized all of this bullshit your now dead ex managed to put you through in his final hours on earth made you profoundly indifferent to the fact a literal drider broke into your home. 

"Who are you?" You ask at last. "And why didn't you kill me too?"

Miguel looks at you quickly, glad the empty silence was broken at last. "My name is Miguel." He looks down, shame in his expression. "And I, well.."

He doesn't think he should divulge all of his secrets yet. Surviving near death by drider and having your husband's cheating revealed shortly before his untimely death was more than enough burden to bear. 

"I'm not from around here." 

"I gathered that." Your eyes rake over his enormous form. You should be beside yourself. This man creature just killed your husband after all. But something about his voice was calming. Oddly soothing. Dare you say it was, rather attractive?

"So what are you, half spider?" 

For the first time, an inkling of amusement shows on his face. "What, did my eight legs give it away?" 

"Just a little." You hum, bringing your knees to your chest as you allowed yourself to relax. 

"You know, you're...eerily calm about all of this." 

"Heh...I know. Guess I kind of feel like I'm still asleep and I'm gonna wake up any minute." 

"Wanna test that theory?" Miguel quirks a brow. 

You pinch yourself while keeping your deadpan stare, holding it for a moment as if it would do anything. "Nope." 

"Wow." Miguel says sarcastically to which you can't help but snicker. "So, do weird occurrences like this happen to you often? Still doesn't explain why you're not completely hysterical about all this." 

"I watch the news." You shrug. "Crazy shit happens in New York all the time. What with Spider-Man being a thing and all. Just a step above normal, I'd say." 

"Ah." It made sense. Miguel should've known your dimension had its own spider. A little bit of relief washed over him. At least this made things a bit less messy on his end. He falls silent again, stealing little glances of you now and then. 

You were fucking ethereal in person. Being this close was something he only dreamed about. Now that it was happening in real time, he was wracking his mind desperately for ideas on how to drag it out as long as he could. 

"So if I may: how'd you become half spider?" You ask the hard question at last. 

Miguel raises his eyebrows, somewhat relieved you took the first leap. He proceeds to tell you about his lab accident, and how he became spliced with spider DNA.

He tells you about the multiverse, and how there are many versions of him out there with the same story, but his cursed him with the lower half of a mutant unlike most. 

"So, if there's a whole multiverse out there, are there multiple versions of myself too?" You lean your chin on your hand like a curious pupil. 

Miguel nods stiffly, trying to disguise the weight of the information he held. "Yeah. "

You go silent again, then you ask, "Did you know me in your own universe?"

Miguel's heart pangs subtly at the reminder. "Yeah, I did..." He looks away from you but you can't help but continue to stare at him. 

He really was so pleasant to look at. That brown, wavy hair that curled just slightly at the ends you could only imagine would run like silk between your fingers, eyes a hue of red that couldn't be replicated anywhere except the deep center of the rarest rose, lulling voice that dripped from those full lips. This formidableness about him that crumbled into gentleness only when it came to you did absolutely nothing but pull you closer to him. 

For the first time, those unconnected dots in that unanswered part of you in your dreams might be falling into place. 

"Was I quite close to you?" Your heart steadily begins to pick up. 

Miguel shook under his desire to just let the facade fall away and pull you into his arms. But he remained still as he looked back at you, silent plea from behind his words that was only articulated in those eyes that put bleeding sunsets to shame.

"You meant the world to me." 

The pieces coming together prompted these strong emotions you weren't expecting, coming out in broken tears. "So that's why you found me..." You shook your head. 

Miguel's heart tugs outside of his chest. He stands up, drawing closer, then his legs folded as he leaned in to where you sat on the couch. When you didn't pull away, he got the courage to cup your face in both his hands, gently wiping the wetness away. 

"Why didn't you come get me sooner?" It clicks at that very moment. That tender gaze that graced you now could not belong to anyone other than your starcrossed beloved who visited every time you closed your eyes. 

"I wanted to." Miguel must suppress his own tears at this point. Oh how he wanted to, how he ached to.

"Believe me, I really did, mi vida.." 

His term of endearment for you just encourages you to liquify under his touch even more. "But why didn't you?? I was so miserable. I waited for you. I thought you weren't real. Thought you were never coming..." 

"I know, I know." Miguel closed his eyes when your foreheads met at last. This feeling of touching you for the first time elated him, shedded him of his internal torment. He felt like he was soaring.

"You were married and I was..." He sighs deeply, pulling away just a little, "I was... well, me." 

"What do you mean by that?" You furrow your brows, your heart panged by hurt, trying to understand why. Why he deprived himself of this thing you both clearly wanted when it was right there. 

"Nobody as beautiful as you would ever love someone who looks like me.." 

A pit falls to the bottom of your stomach and you immediately shake your head. "No...no, that couldn't be further from the truth, Miguel..." 

You sit up, leaning in as you took his face in your hands again. His eyes went wide in disbelief. "W-what are you..." 

A million chills erupt in Miguel's body that become embers of warmth as your lips touch for the first time. He holds his breath, then sighs. The little break in between the kiss and the low, gentle sound coming from him just encourages you to meet him again, and again. 

Your fingers wind their way into his hair and his own hands couldn't do anything but pull you even closer as the kiss deepened under the weight of the burning passion. The longing was set free, a million questions answered that just kept confirming to Miguel over and over that this couldn't be more right.  Canon be damned, rules be damned as your lips and your hands became a slow dance of sensual exploration. 

"Miguel..." 

"Please I-mnghhh..." He pleads then relents immediately as he lets his head roll gently back, allowing you to continue blazing tantalizing trails of kisses all over his neck. Because of the size difference between you both, he scoops you into his arms off the couch. He can't help but indulge the feeling of your body pressed against his, using his grip on your thighs to grind you ever so lightly against his abdomen. 

The pressure delivered from the press of his body shoots directly to your core and you shamelessly take that as permission to roll your hips slightly as you straddled him, releasing that first moan into his mouth when your lips came back up from exploring the warmth of his neck. 

That delicious little sound you make nearly wrecks him in the best way. Miguel moans equally louder as his kisses dial up in intensity. His teeth begin nipping intermittently as the kiss morphs into a passionate exchange of saliva and collision of lips on lips. The potent venom laced in his fangs pools with the building zeal and it seeps into your mouth, leaving sweet aftertaste whose foreignness only fuels your arousal. 

An enormous thud echoes as Miguel falls backwards, but it does absolutely nothing to deter the flame lit under you. You both find a comfortable rhythm as his hands guide your hips as you ride his large spider abdomen while your makeout session riled with fervor. The coarse bristly hairs were a delicious addition to the addicting friction with each slow roll of your body. Miguel's lips fall open and his eyes falter. You relish this feeling of power over him, this enormous drider who all but became a weak weak man when he was underneath you. 

You bite your lip as each heavenly movement inspires you to leave all shame at the door and start to put on a show. You card your fingers in your hair, moving it in your eyes in erotic display, groaning as you rolled your head every which way in careless abandon, letting your fingers dip in your mouth, squeezing your breasts. 

"Fuckkk me..." Miguel breathes out. "Fuck me, you're so...God, you're so beautiful..." He hands continue to knead the swell of your ass, gritting his teeth as his grip locks down even harder and he feels you humping directly over his slit where his phallus was hardening underneath the ocean of fur to the point of ache. 

His hands then move to play with your breasts, your eyes widened when the spot on your hips is quickly replaced with two of his smaller forelegs, one of them teasing the waistband of your pants as his human hands quickly unclasped your bra. 

"Miguellll...." You mewl as one of his forelegs holds your hip steady while the other works little circles through your clothed clit, all while you felt his warm, wet tongue flatten and tease your left nipple. All you can do at this point is moan and let him wreck you completely, this pleasure that was smoldering you from all sides. 

You gazed down, amazed and aroused to discover that the lower half attached to this beautiful man you were tangled in only fueled the desire, this taboo. Knowing fully well that he was capable of bloodshed, but for now he only wanted to fuck you. You grinded harder against him, answering his soft ministrations of your clit with eager gyrations of your hips. 

"Me vas a terminar matando..."(You'll end up killing me) He weakly chuckled, "So, so perfect..."

Miguel is intoxicated by your breasts, circulating and squeezing them together, while his lips dribbled and slobbered as he sucked them both greedily into his mouth in messy alteration.

Soon both round globes were coated in a dripping sheen of his venom, working the thickening syrup in sloppy circles over both nipples that tingled and numbed you so deliciously along with the teasing circles of his thumbs that it made your back arch to the heavens. 

He leaned back momentarily to admire his handiwork, lower jaw shiny with a mixture of venom and spit, a steamy yet filthy display of his subtle ownership he now felt over you. 

His. 

His rightful claim when he snapped your sorry ass excuse of a husband like a twig. Each little noise you made all for him only swelling his pride and confirming his suspicion that the loser couldn't make you cum like he could. 

Speaking of cumming, you were damn near close. Miguel doesn't want to be greedy and would love to let his sweet little darling cream and squirt all over his stomach right now, but the thought was more appealing for this first time being on his tongue or, if you were up for it, his drider cock. 

"I wanna cum, Miguel, please I wanna cum..." You whined, temporarily losing that sweet spot as he removed his forelegs from their massage on your clit. 

"I know baby, I'm gonna make you cum..." He kissed you. "You'll cum for me. Many times, I'll make sure of it..." He panted, moving a finger underneath your chin. "How do you feel about taking my cock?" 

The straightforward nature of his question answered itself in the further dampening spot in your panties. "Please...Y-yes pleaseee, Miguel. Want you to fuck me...want you to give me your cock..." 

"Yeah?" He groaned, hands slinking all up and down your body, under your clothes, stroking your breasts. "I'll give it to you then, baby...fill you up so good..." 

He paused then kissed you deeply once more. "You're gonna have to trust me... We'll have to try something different so this can work..." 

You nodded. "I trust you, Miguel." 

"Okay..." He whispered. "You're still okay with this?" 

"Yes, I'm okay..." You breathed back. "I'm okay, baby. I want you so badly. I'm willing to try anything so you can be so deep inside of me..." 

"Fuck, me too..." He groaned back against your lips. "Okay, hold on f'me..." 

He set you back down on the couch and you were floored as you watched your beloved turn into an artist, spinning an elaborate web that stretched from floor to ceiling, almost like a swing that was anchored solidly on both sides to the wall. 

"Mi vida..." He offers you his hand like a gentleman, helping you up. "Can I?" He whispers as his hands disappear underneath your clothes. 

"Yes..." 

He strips you carefully and slowly like fine china, letting the anticipation build as every patch of skin slowly became revealed to him. 

Somehow letting him undress you, sliding the rest of your panties off and simply letting his eyes roam freely all over your body felt like the most intimate thing you had done all night, even more so as he still remained fully clothed in his top half as he stood back and drunk in the sight of you like wine. 

"You're simply stunning, love..." 

His hands ghosted low on your hips until they rested on the bare curve of your ass. You jumped and wrapped your thighs around him, Miguel tensed his jaw with a smirk as he kneaded the plump flesh of your ass, hardening again when he felt your bare slick he drew out of your pussy earlier against his stomach. 

He nestled you into the makeshift swing that was soft and sticky as the fibers clung to your bare skin in a natural adhesive. He spun more webs around your ankles, opening them slightly. 

"Is this still okay?" He asked gently again. 

Exhilaration washed over you but you nodded, grinning and easing your legs open in further tease to demonstrate your own building excitement for what was to come. "Yes..." 

"Good." His voice went halfway between a groan again at your pretty pussy blossoming like a flower in front of him. 

He stood back, eyes cloudy and trained on you as he removed his shirt, letting it fall in a quiet heap to the ground. 

You drank him in as well like an offering, moaning audibly when the slit in his fur low on his abdomen opened to reveal a long, thick, hard red cock with pulsating black veins adorning both sides. It curved upwards, and it throbbed, making your mouth water. 

This only made the full sight of your monstrous lover even more alluring as he stood before you in all his drider glory, towering over you even now when you were closer to his eye level in your makeshift swing, with your thighs spread and your silky cunt begging to be filled. 

He shot a web onto your belly, pulling you in closer while you still sat settled on the swing, giggling as he smirked playfully at you, until just the tip of his cock kissed between your folds. 

"Hi there..." You chuckled, tilting your head up, wetting your lips seductively. 

He groaned quietly in a stew of lust as he saw your tongue rake over your bottom lip, 

"Hello, sweetheart...fucking gorgeous thing, you..."

He gently pinched both sides of your cheeks between his thumb and pointer finger, immediately bringing you into a deep french kiss. 

The feeling of his warm tongue sliding in your mouth shot directly down to your cunt, only amping up in electricity as he teased his plump girthy head of his cock all around your pulsing clit. 

"Miguel....fuck me..." Your spine arched and your nails dug into his shoulder, aggravating the raging arousal he was simmering for you all over his body. "Don't tease me like this, baby..." 

Miguel released a mischievous chuckle that tapered into another one of his low moans that goaded you even deeper into all this pent up frustration you wish he'd take out on your now sopping pussy already.

"Ten paciencia, mi vida, por favor... " (Be patient, my life, please) He cooed sweetly at you, lightly brushing his nose against yours "Gotta get you nice and ready to take me..." 

You breath became choked in your lungs when he begins to massage the fat tip directly over your velvety clit, grunting as he felt another drip of arousal leak and coat all along the thick head. 

"Besides..." He murmured heavily though soft parted lips, entranced with hooded eyes. "The more I edge you, the more pleasureable it'll be when I finally make you cum all over my cock..."

"Baby, please..." The crescendo of arousal swelled in your belly, making your eyes water. You coaxed your body against him faster, desperate to reach that peak, but your movements were minimal due to the webbing. The feeling of emptiness covered you but was quickly eased when he promptly removed his tip from your clit again, this time dragging it down to your dripping entrance. 

"Kiss me..." Miguel murmured and he didn't need to tell you twice. His tongue rolled and rubbed with yours as he began to circle his cock into your wet opening, inch by inch filling you ever so slowly. You gasp into his mouth, realizing this whole time what he was talking about. You felt every rigid vein, every solid groove as his drider cock slowly pushed into you, stretching you beyond comprehension. It was unlike any you've ever taken before. Fuck, it felt better than any you'd ever taken before. 

Once you got past the daunting size, the addicting feeling and pleasure of having his cock inside you set off a new chorus of breathy moans from your lips. You sighed deliciously as you greedily accepted everything he was giving you, so transfixed on his divine face that was watching you the entire time. 

Miguel was irrevocably smitten, completely enamored with the way your warm silky walls wrapped around him, the way you looked at him with immense rapture. Fuck, this feeling was greater than anything he felt in his entire life as your pussy molded to him like it was made for him. "So tight, cariño..." He teased then hissed as he reached the hilt. 

You two gazed at each other, completely silent for what felt like divine eternity. Simply enjoying the feeling of Miguel being buried so deeply inside you. 

"I'm gonna start fucking you..." He whispered. 

"Go slow at first, baby..." You purred back, clenching your pussy around him, biting your lip when it earned another weak grunt from him. "Wanna feel you nice and deep like this for a bit..." 

"Haah...you're a goddamn tease..." Miguel huffed. "I'll try and go slow as long as I can..." The sound that came from him next was downright pathetic as he looked down at where he had you stuffed to the brim, feeling along the emerging bulge in your belly. 

"You feel so fucking good, it's hard not to just fucking ravish you right now..." 

"Mmm...just kiss me, then..." You murmured and he quickly seized onto that opportunity as he slowly began to pump inside you with lengthy, meaningful thrusts. Every movement was so wet and sloppy with drenched noises as a sea of slick began to drool from your pussy, coating his cock that slid in and out of you with greater ease as the moments passed. 

You squeezed your thighs in a death grip around his large waist as you became more hammered off this euphoria, the bristly hairs tickling the sensitive sides along your clit, goading you to grind back into each deep thrust. 

"Shit..." And Miguel's patience flew out the door with that lethal squeeze of your thighs, his hands gripped the curve of your ass as he began to completely unload on your needy wet cunt. You cried out as you took every torturous inch like the absolute whore you were for him in this moment.

It tested your limits but God, this feeling of him thoroughly fucking you nice and hard scratched that nagging, primal itch you experienced ever since you first laid eyes on him. You were practically drooling at this point, laying back and taking it, your submission just fueling his fire, unlocking that deep seated urge to fucking breed this perfect cunt for all it was worth, to ruin you and fuck your brains out so you could feel him for weeks. 

"Miguel, Miguel, Miguellllll....." The hungry, wispy mantra of his name from your lips nearly set him off the edge alone, a raw possession washing over him completely as he railed his cock into you to new limits. 

"You're all mine now, you know that..." 

"I'm all yours Miguel...all yours baby..." 

He cut you off with another fiery kiss. "Wanna cum inside you, baby, can I?" 

"Fffuck yes....yes, Miguel, fill me..." 

"I'll fill you up, baby..." His forelegs come up again, but this time one directly rubbing quick, vibrating circles on your clit, while one gently teased and massaged  the puckered rim of your ass, all while his heavy slick covered cock continued to pound your pussy. "But you're gonna cum f'me first..." 

"Miguel..." 

You nearly black out as you see heaven. Miguel locks in, dipping his head down as he swallowed onto your left breast again, tweaking and tugging the nipple of the right, his mouth salivating and more venom dousing and dripping from his tongue, soaking down your already sweaty body. 

The web renders you helpless as you have no option but to lay there and let him pleasure you past anything you thought you could handle. It felt like overstimulation as you shook and cowered and whined so loudly it could wake the neighbors. 

Your thighs trembled, tears leaking out of the corner of your eyes as you forced yourself to let go. The premature ending of all the previous other treatments he bestowed on your spent pussy piled on top of one another, making this one far more intense and overwhelming than the others. Thick cream oozed lewdly out of you, making a sticky, glossy mess of both your pubes and coating his black fur. 

"Cumming, sweetheart..." He panted, dripping sweat all down his reddened face, some of it landing in your mouth but you could care less. Everything about this encounter was so dirty and nasty already. The salacious feeling of consuming every part of one another from head to toe reduced you to nothing but a hole for him to dump his cum in, and you'd let him every time. 

"I-love-you...." 

And his heavy sweaty shaft and bulbous tip nudged your g spot simultaneously as his foreleg's massage of your swollen clit that your orgasm shuddered and rattled your bones, a new sinful coat of wetness squirting and seeping into Miguel's black fur that he soaked in like a badge of honor. 

He forgot to warn you before, but when the coil in his balls finally released and he came inside you, the thick, viscous drider cum was like lava as it spilled and drooled and leaked from your insides. Even after you thought he had emptied, another spurt of a thick rope of cum painted your drenched walls and flooded out of you. 

You both merely panted, eyes locked on each other in a display of intimacy of the deepest and most carnal kind, the overwhelming haze of orgasmic bliss made you both speechless. It almost didn't compute that he told you he loved you. 

You laid there in your spiderweb tangled underneath your drider lover in the now fully emerged daytime, world outside none the wiser of the steamy, lewd acts that took place. All the more enthralling that this became a love nest built on top of your blood lust and mutual yearning that exploded like gasoline on a fire. 

For now, real life could wait as you came back down to Earth and gazed at the flood of slick cum dripping and oozing from both of you. You felt that primal urge kick up again as Miguel smirked, softly stuffing the mess of what he could back inside the pool of glistening white that peeked between your aching folds. 

"And I love you too, Miguel.." You whispered back.

All the puzzle pieces of his scattered life fell back into place as he heard those glorious words hit him like a train. He willed this himself. Even if it meant taking you from another dimension, this thread across time, this inevitable bond was now cemented permanently with your lovemaking and the deepest parts of him that were now inside you. 

He could deal with all that bullshit later; he had his love back with him where she rightfully belonged.

You both laughed to yourselves as you sauntered down this path of mutual bliss and made a plan to leave all this behind and start a new life with your Drider lover in his reality. 

But first...you couldn't help but pull him closer and he couldn't help but groan loudly as he effortlessly slipped inside you again,

"It's you and me against the stars, mi vida..." 

And he groaned before rhythmically moving his body in that sinful dance with yours, 

"But first I'm gonna prove it by fucking you all over again." 

---

[famoussharkhairdoknight]

Meet my sister P.2-Jude Bellingham

Part.1, Part.3

plot: Federico Valverde wants to introduce his younger sister to Jude, his teammate. He hoped that something romantic would be born between them seeing that their characters were perfect together but things take a different turn

wearnings: +18,handjob

Jude returned home that evening with a strange feeling, a tension he couldn’t shake off. He had faced plenty of people in his life: opponents on the field, critics in the press, even stubborn teammates. But you? You were different. Not only had you dared to challenge him openly, but you had gotten under his skin in a way he couldn’t explain.

He let himself fall onto his couch, phone in hand. He tried to distract himself by scrolling through notifications and messages, but your face kept popping into his mind: the way your eyes sparkled with sarcasm, the provocative smile that seemed to say, "You’ll never have the upper hand with me.”

“Ridiculous,” he muttered to himself, but he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

With a resigned sigh, he opened Instagram and typed your name into the search bar. It didn’t take long to find you; your profile was verified and had millions of followers. Jude scrolled slowly, studying one photo after another.

There were pictures of you on red carpets, flawless in high-fashion gowns. Shots from ad campaigns, where your intense gaze and bold poses grabbed attention. Then, more personal images: you on a beach, the sun lighting up your skin; you in a recording studio with a satisfied smile; you laughing with a disarming naturalness.

His eyes stopped on one picture in particular: you were seated on a couch, wearing a red dress that hugged your curves perfectly. Your hair fell over your shoulders, and your smile was both sweet and mischievous.

Jude smirked, an arrogant grin reflecting his thoughts. “Sexy, no doubt about it,” he muttered to himself, leaning back into the couch. But then his smirk turned into a grimace. “But insufferable. Thinks she knows everything, always has to have the last word.”

Despite the irritation you caused him, he couldn’t look away. He kept scrolling, discovering more aspects of you that trapped him in a mix of attraction and annoyance.

“How does Federico put up with you?” he wondered, though a part of him knew that your personality was exactly what drew him in. You weren’t like the other women he knew. You didn’t try to please him or impress him. If anything, you did everything you could to challenge him.

“I don’t like you. You’re just a challenge,” he said out loud, almost as if trying to convince himself. But he knew there was something more. Maybe it was the way you never backed down, or maybe it was how your laughter managed to irritate and intrigue him at the same time.

Before he realized it, he had spent over half an hour on your profile. He abruptly shut his phone, almost annoyed at himself. “Ridiculous,” he muttered again, standing up and running a hand through his hair.

But as he headed to his bedroom, your face kept resurfacing in his mind. Jude didn’t want to admit it, but he already knew this wouldn’t be the last time he searched your name on Instagram. And that realization irritated him more than anything else.

He had just laid on the bed, his hands behind his head, trying to shake off the annoyance. But that annoyance had a very specific name: yours. He was convinced that it was enough to ignore you to stop thinking about you, but it did not work. The more he tried to drive you out of his mind, the more your sarcastic smile and intense eyes came to haunt him.

After a few minutes, he snorted frustrated, grabbed his phone and almost without thinking, went back to your Instagram profile. It was an impulsive gesture, one he knew he should not have done, but it was too late.

While scrolling through your photos once more, he found one that struck him more than the others. You were sitting on a balcony, with a breathtaking view behind you, but he didn’t notice anything around you. All his attention was on you. You wore a black dress with a dizzying slit that let your smooth skin glimpse. Your legs were crossed with natural grace, and your gaze, directed into the room, seemed to challenge anyone not to yield to your charm.

Jude stared at the picture for a few seconds, feeling his breath getting heavier. He felt his cock harden. Your body was amazing, she had already noticed that, but there was something more. Your attitude, that combination of sensuality and pride, was an open challenge. It seemed you were saying, "I know you want me, but you won’t have me easily."

«Damn...» he muttered to himself, feeling a wave of heat passing through him. He ran his hand through his hair, trying to regain control, but it was useless. His mind was filled with dirty thoughts about you, and that character which irritated him and fascinated him at the same time.

He dropped backwards on the bed, phone still in hand. With his right hand he threw his cock out of his boxer shorts and began to saw himself while his gaze returned to your picture, while a grimace was drawn on his face. «You think you are untamable, don’t you?» he said in a low voice, almost as if you were there to hear it.

The image of you gave him a shiver down his spine. He felt tense, stiff, as if the thought of you had taken over his body. He was used to having control over everything: in the field, in his personal life, with women. But you were another story.

He started to stroke his cock faster as he thought you were bent like a slut in front of him while you took his dick.

«I would tame you in a second,» he muttered, almost with anger.

But he knew that the real problem was not to tame you physically, but to tame your character. Because even though he thought you were incredibly hot, your strong temper and sarcasm drove him crazy. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to challenge you or win you over.

Jobe kept looking at your picture and continued to cut himself quickly, then came with a moan.

He closed his eyes for a moment trying to catch his breath

When he opened his eyes again, Jude closed the click phone and threw it on the bedside table. But your smile kept tormenting him. He couldn’t get you out of his head, and that irritated him more than anything. Because, deep down, he knew you’d find a way to sneak into his thoughts once again.

«I hate her»

---

The next morning, Jude arrived at the training ground still irritated with himself. He hadn’t slept well, tormented by thoughts of you. Every time he closed his eyes, your face resurfaced, along with the memory of that photo. He tried to shake off the tension, but it wasn’t easy, especially knowing that Vinicius and Kylian would be eager to ask how it went.

As he tied his cleats in the locker room, Vinicius walked in with his usual sly grin. Kylian followed closely behind, just as curious. They exchanged a knowing glance before approaching Jude.

"So, Bellingham," Vinicius started, slapping him on the back. "Federico told us you met his sister yesterday."

Jude let out a sigh, pretending indifference. "Yeah, so what?"

Kylian chuckled, leaning against the locker next to him. "So, tell us. How was it? Federico seemed so excited about the introduction."

Jude stood up, adjusting his training shirt. "Not much to say. She’s... irritating."

Vinicius raised an eyebrow, amused. "Irritating? Really? So, you didn’t like her?"

"It’s not about liking her," Jude replied, annoyed. "It’s that she has an unbearable personality. Always ready with a comeback, always provoking. She thinks she’s funny, but really..."

"But really, she made you lose your mind, huh?" Vinicius interrupted, a sly grin forming on his face.

"Stop it," Jude warned, shooting him a cold look. "She didn’t make me lose anything. She’s just another girl with a huge ego."

Kylian burst into laughter. "Yeah, sure. That’s why you’re talking about her, right? You know, Jude, when someone doesn’t really bother us, we don’t mention them at all."

Jude clenched his jaw, trying to keep his cool. "I’m not talking about her. You’re the ones who keep bringing it up."

Vinicius sat down next to him, watching him with an amused expression. "You know, Jude, I’ve seen his sister a couple of times. And I gotta say, Federico’s right: she’s a bombshell. Beautiful, talented... and with a character that doesn’t go unnoticed. Maybe that’s what bothers you."

Jude turned to him, narrowing his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I mean maybe you’re not used to a girl who doesn’t fall at your feet," Vinicius replied with a smirk. "Admit it, she stood her ground, and that pisses you off."

Kylian nodded, adding, "And let’s be real, someone like her isn’t exactly easy to ignore."

Jude sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You’re making a mountain out of nothing. I’m not interested."

"Right, sure," Vinicius countered, laughing. "We’ll see how long it takes for you to come up with an excuse to see her again."

Jude stood up, heading towards the field with a neutral expression. "It’s not going to happen."

But as he walked, their laughter and words continued to echo in his mind. No matter how much he wanted to deny it, he knew there was something about you that intrigued him. And that irritated him more than any provocation.

---

The night at the club had just begun, and the atmosphere was electric. Federico, Jude, Kylian, and other teammates had gathered there to unwind after an intense week. The dance floor was crowded, colorful lights flashed in every corner, and the music vibrated in the air, making everyone's heart beat to the rhythm. As always, Jude was the center of attention, surrounded by girls trying to catch his eye, but he seemed distant, as if something was distracting him. Maybe it was the thought of you, or maybe it was the irritation he still felt toward you, but he couldn't focus on anything else.

Vinicius and Kylian were more relaxed, chatting and laughing, while Federico was enjoying himself with some friends. But the atmosphere changed abruptly when the door to the club opened, revealing a figure walking in with confidence, turning everyone’s head. It was you, of course. Your entrance was theatrical, your radiant smile, and the energy you exuded from your presence seemed to be the only thing capturing everyone’s attention.

Vinicius and Kylian's eyes lit up. "Look who's here," Kylian said, impressed by your entrance. "You can't miss her."

Vinicius nodded, watching you with admiration. "It's impossible not to stare. Beautiful, confident... and that personality that makes her even more intriguing."

Meanwhile, Jude, who had been trying to ignore you until that moment, let out a visible sigh, feeling that annoying pang of irritation grow inside him. You were moving on the dance floor with natural sensuality, effortlessly, as if the music was a part of you. Every step, every movement, drew attention, and the girls around Jude seemed to forget about him, all focused on you. Jude, however, couldn't stop watching you, despite his irritation.

"Do you like her?" Vinicius asked with a smile, noticing Jude’s fixed gaze on you.

Jude shrugged, trying to seem indifferent. "No," he replied curtly. "It annoys me how she stands out like that."

"Though you can’t take your eyes off her, right?" Kylian teased, with his usual knowing grin. "Are you sure you don’t like her?"

"I don’t like her," Jude repeated, but his voice betrayed a slight uncertainty.

Meanwhile, you continued to dance, unaware of their comments. Your energy was contagious to everyone, but it seemed like it wasn’t sitting well with Jude. Every movement you made made him more tense, and every glance he threw at you made him feel strangely uneasy. He couldn’t understand what it was, but there was something about you that irritated him and at the same time attracted him, a contrast he couldn’t settle.

Vinicius and Kylian kept making appreciative comments, laughing between themselves, while Jude distanced himself from the conversation, trying to deflect the attention. But the truth was, he couldn’t stop thinking about you, and the fact that he was so irritated by you made him even more annoyed.

[lazycats-stuff]

Could you write a batfam story where the reader, who's in an established marriage with Bruce Wayne, accidentally triggers Jason? Perhaps the Wayne family has kept Bruce and Jason's past hardships a secret from the reader, thinking it wasn't important to discuss. However, a misunderstanding between the reader and Jason causes Jason to run away after being triggered of his pass. The rest of the family understands that it was a misunderstanding and tells the reader that Jason will come back and not to worry. They explain Jason's troubled pass with Bruce. However, the reader is consumed by so much guilt and sets out to find Jason. Literally the reader goes and searches Gotham top to bottom IN THE MIDDLE OF A HURRICANE! 😭The reader ends up locating Jason in a warehouse, where Jason’s freezing and the rain is pouring right through. More happens but I want the story to like end where the reader and Jason are crying together in the pouring rain and Jason realizes that he now has a loving dad that would do anything to ensure his and his brothers safety. And like the reader brings Jason back to the manor and everyone else is thinking to themselves like damn, (y/n) really is the best thing to happen to this family, literally the damn glue. Or something… like if (y/n) wasn’t there to save Jason he could have been dead… again.

I am sorry this is so long… i just couldn’t stop thinking of this story dynamic 😊

Oh, my jay bird... Of course I can do it... My poor bird. Also, 2k followers? Why thank you. Also, taking some time off to focus on college because I have some shit coming up. To say lightly.

Summary: The family didn't tell (Y/N) about Jason's trauma. And that causes problems and some broken hearts.

Warnings: Mentions of Jason's past, but nothing graphic, (Y/N) is done with emotional constipation from everyone, but he still loves them a lot, also hurricane.

(Y/N) has been in the family for a few years now. Married with the patriarch of the family, Bruce Wayne, was the best decision he has ever made. Bruce, while known to the public as a playboy at the time, abandoned that mindset, all for (Y/N). Boys accepted (Y/N), once they saw that (Y/N) wasn't marrying Bruce for money. (Y/N) will be marrying him for love.

Were there a few hiccups with Bruce being Batman and all the nightly patrols? Yes. However, (Y/N) and Bruce worked through it. And more importantly, (Y/N) essentially adopted all of the boys as his own. He saw them as his own sons rather than looking at them as their stepsons. And besides, saying that they are his sons brings (Y/N) an indescribable amount of happiness. And besides, living with 4 boys is always fun.

(Y/N) knew about their trauma, but what no one told him was the trauma that Jason went through. He had a vague idea, but never knew exactly. He didn't feel qualified to prod around in anyone's head, anyone's mind, but he made sure to let them all know that if they need to talk about something, get something off of their chest, he is the person they can come to talk to.

And it has happened a few times. Sometimes they would come after a nightmare, squeezing between (Y/N) and Bruce, looking for comfort. Now, everyone was unsure as to what to call him. Batdad or mother hen... That one remains to be determined soon enough by the boys.

It was a tough day for everyone in the household and everyone was ready to straight up murder each other. (Y/N) had an awful day at work, Bruce had a bad day as a CEO and as Batman, well, the Batman part was only the night before, but has moved onto the day. The other boys had difficult days at school and at patrol. Jason had a big problem with his nightmares and flashbacks. Not to mention, Gotham was expecting a hurricane to come over and just sweep over it. It shouldn't be bad and there shouldn't be any damage besides any heavy rain.

Gotham natives are used to rains, whether they be small drizzles or storms. However, Bruce worried about it and made sure to get enough supplies, just in case. Safe to say, everyone was on absolute edge. Closed into the same house, despite it being a manor and absolutely huge, tension could be cut with a knife.

And then, Jason and (Y/N) started fighting. It started off as bickering, but then it turned into a fight where hurtful things were said towards each other. Jason, mentally pushed to the limit by the nightmares and flashbacks has had enough and went to his car. He drove off and (Y/N) was fuming still.

But...

When the anger went away, (Y/N) was mortified. Completely and utterly mortified. He essentially crushed whatever relationship he had with Jason. Words hurt more than any punches and any kicks. No matter what Jason went through, (Y/N) was sure that Jason was hurting like hell now.

(Y/N) couldn't stop pacing in the living room, wondering what is happening to Jason at this very moment. A hurricane is going to pass through soon enough, Jason went to God knows where and (Y/N)'s own heart was breaking apart.

" (Y/N), love, you need to calm down. Jason will be fine. He just needs space. "

" Space?! In the middle of a hurricane?! " (Y/N) now yelled, upset beyond belief. He has upset his son and he was telling him to calm down? He might kick Bruce out of their bed.

Bruce then talked about all the trauma that Jason went through, before he adopted him, after he adopted him at the hands of Joker. (Y/N) was now absolutely mortified.

" Father is right. Jason needs some time to cool off. " Damian said in passing, making (Y/N) throw his hands up in the air.

" Is anyone in this damn house emotionally available?! "

Tim shrugged from the sofa and (Y/N) took a deep breath. Bruce watched intently and he could see what (Y/N) was thinking.

" Do not tell me you are going out there. " Bruce said as (Y/N) put his jacket and shoes on.

Dick and Damian paused to watch the entire thing unfold. Tim looked up from his tablet.

" I am. Jason is my son and I'm going to get him back. Tim, track Jason's phone and send me the location. " (Y/N) said, ignoring Bruce. Bruce rubbed his forehead. (Y/N) is a stubborn bastard when he wants to be. And does Bruce love him for it? Yes. Is it annoying sometimes? Yes.

" There is a hurricane! " Tim yelled after (Y/N) as he stormed out.

" (Y/N)! " Bruce yelled after his husband, but it was too late. (Y/N) was already out the door.

" He's nuts, " Damian said underneath his breath.

" And I married him, " Bruce added.

Jason has started to regret the fact that he has decided to even come out here. Sure, (Y/N) and him got into a fight, nasty things were said, but it would be better if he has just stormed up to his room and slammed his door shut. That would have been a better option than this. This damp warehouse, where there was leaking rain wherever you looked...

Jason was shivering, teeth chattering. Cold probably seeped right to his bones. Hypothermia was also on its way too, Jason had no doubt about it. He leaned back against the wall, curling into himself as much as he could and allowed himself to think about what happened with (Y/N), his dad in a way.

They were all on edge from the hurricane, supplies, wifi and all that stuff was needed just in case. Bruce made sure to make the manor proof of any natural disasters. Gotham wouldn't be hit that badly, so there was no need for evacuation, but there was advice to be cautious about it. Everyone was on edge as it is from being cooped up together too much, since Bruce didn't want them to stray too far, just in case.

And Jason being in a foul mood from his nightmares already, he didn't like this one bit. He wanted to be alone, but no. Common areas are a must according to Bruce. So the fight happened and both of them said really hurtful things to each other. And Jason felt guilty. He knew that emotions took over them both, but still... (Y/N) was always trying to be good to them all.

It was wrong.

Jason looked up at the door when he heard a slam. It could be wind. Or maybe someone trying to find shelter?

What Jason didn't expect was (Y/N), wet to the bone, looking around frantically. When his eyes fell on Jason, he sighed in relief.

" Oh Jay, I've been looking for you everywhere! Are you okay?! " (Y/N) ran up to Jason, quickly kneeling down to check to see if he had any injuries. Jason was touched... To have a genuine parent, a loving parent, alongside Bruce, but Bruce is a bit emotionally constipated so (Y/N) is essentially everything that the boys need.

" Bruce told me what you've been through... And now I know why you ran, what made you so upset. It was a combination of everything plus the hurricane. "

Jason nodded and (Y/N) hugged him tightly. Jason hugged him back just as tightly, if not more.

And the two broke down in tears, holding onto each other tightly.

Bruce was pacing in the living room, worried about (Y/N) and Jason. He should have gone after Jason too. He shouldn't have been so stupid. He should have chased Jason down the moment he left the mansion. But no, he's too emotionally constipated to deal with this. Great. Absolutely great.

He flipped his head around when he heard the front door open and then close and then two sets of footsteps. Jason and (Y/N) stepped into the living room, both soaked to the bone.

" Bruce, " (Y/N) said calmly and Bruce had a feeling he would be kicked out of the bedroom.

" (Y/N)... Are you two okay? " Bruce asked softly and (Y/N) nodded, smiling at Jason.

" We are B. Jay, go down to the Batcave. Take a warm shower and get changed into warm clothes. I'm sure the others are there too." (Y/N) softly nudged Jason to get going.

Jason took the hint and went to the Batcave. Once he was gone, Bruce turned to (Y/N).

" I'm sorry. I truly am. I should have gone after him, but I was- "

" Stupid? Yeah. Clearly. But I'm willing to forgive. I assume that the cots are ready? "

" Yup. I prepared you warm clothes, some earplugs so that you can't be awaken by the bats. And also a mask so that you won't be awoken by the lights of the cave. You know, reflectors, Batcomputer... Come on. " Bruce gently lead his cold and wet husband to the Batcave. " A warm shower is in order too. "

(Y/N) rolled his eyes, knowing that he will be forced into a warm shower, warm and dry clothes and an intense cuddling session, where Bruce won't let go, out of fear and love... How did he even marry into this crazy family?

[steviestits]

In The Family Way - Part 3.2

Written for an anon prompt, which can be read in its entirety on this fic's masterpost.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Background Argyle/Jonathan Rating: T Summary: The Munson family has never had the typical values that most modern Americans have as they find thrill in all that's mysterious and spooky. Steve Harrington, a black widow omega, hadn't known this when he mated with the family's eldest alpha, Eddie, and thought that he'd be another easy mark that he could kill to inherit the millions that Eddie owned. However, not only do all his murder attempts fail, but Eddie actually enjoys them! And to make matters worse, the alpha wants to try for a pup! Steve has to find a way to off Eddie for good, before he gets pregnant and maybe actually falls for the death-crazed alpha. (Addams Family Values au set in the Omegaverse after the events of the movie with Steve as Debbie and Eddie as Fester) Trigger Warning: Attempted Murder as a love language, Mpreg

(Link to previous part)

As time went on, however, Eddie noticed that Steve’s heats never came, and Eddie never felt even remotely close to going into a rut. If they were unmated, there wouldn’t be any correlation, allowing Eddie to go into one as his primal instincts searched for an omega to breed. Since they were mated, the alpha in him would only allow his omega to bear his pups, so him not feeling an oncoming rut, meant that his omega wasn’t getting close to his heat.

Worry slowly set into Eddie that something was wrong. The reason Steve’s absent heat could’ve been because he was already pregnant, except all the tests Steve took came back negative. Eddie kept reminding himself that all omegas were different, but the alpha in him couldn’t help fretting over his omega. What if he was sick and needed medical attention? Wouldn’t he be a bad alpha if he didn’t get the utmost care for his omega, and get that care promptly?

The war between giving Steve his privacy and checking on the omega waged inside Eddie’s mind until he reached his breaking point. They weren’t doing anything out of the ordinary as it had become their routine to wake up in the morning then grab a pregnancy test to see if one of their previous attempts had taken. It had become something didn’t even have to discuss anymore, with this simply becoming a part of their routine.

There was one difference today, though. Steve typically waited in the bathroom, but now he sat with Eddie in the living room. He nervously tapped a lighter against his forearm. Neither of them smoked, at least not cigarettes, and Steve’s lighter had been used more often to help light Eddie himself aflame than anything else. In fact, Eddie could see a glint in Steve’s eyes that he was planning to torch the alpha at any second now.

“Maybe we should stop,” Steve said suddenly. “Stop taking these tests. They’re never positive, so this is just a waste of fifteen minutes of our time. We could get to fucking a lot sooner if we stopped checking for something that wasn’t going to happen.”

Eddie’s brow furrowed in concern. “Why isn’t it going to happen? You never know, my pet. We could get lucky.”

“Because I know,” the omega snapped.

Hearing the absolute certainty in Steve’s voice made Eddie feel more concerned for the omega instead of backing off as the threat clearly stated. The alpha inside him stirred with restless energy, knowing something was wrong with his omega. It was then that Eddie couldn’t hold back his curiosity any longer. He needed to know what was the matter with Steve.

“I’ve noticed you haven’t had your heat yet,” Eddie said, biting his lip as he cautiously brought up the sensitive topic. “You should’ve gotten it by now.”

The omega bared his teeth. “Have you been tracking it? How do you know that I should’ve had it by now? I told you it was sporadic. Don’t you believe me?”

“I do. Well, I want to, but...” Taking a deep breath, he continued. “But I can’t help but feel concern for you. I’m worried that something is wrong. While I love pain, I never wish to see you in any that hasn’t been caused in the throes of passion.”

Steve started, and the lighter slipped then fell to the floor. Sparking, the lighter set the rug beneath the omega’s feet alight. Eddie’s body moved on its own, and he smothered the flames with his hands, not caring that his hands were burned. He actually liked it, especially because it was done in the name to save his omega.

“Eddie...” Steve sighed, and he took the alpha’s hands into his own, inspecting the burns. “Why do you care so much about me?”

“Because you chose me to be your mate,” the alpha answered easily. “You’re as beautiful as deadly nightshade. You could’ve had any alpha you wanted, but instead, you chose me. I, of course, am obligated, to worship the ground you walk on.”

The omega’s gaze remained steadily focused on Eddie’s hands as he all but whispered, “But what if I was defective? Broken? What then?”

“Never, my pet. I would never think that you were broken or defective. You’re the most perfect creature that I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

“But what if I am? You know that I’ve been mated two times previously-”

“And both of those alphas were weak and undeserving. What alpha is killed in a simple car accident? Why, me and Argyle used to play in traffic all the time when we were children. They were the broken ones, not you. Never you.”

Lip quivering, and eyes watering, Steve glanced up at Eddie finally. Eddie could see the disbelief in his gaze, but also the hope. He remembered the slide show presentation that Steve had put on for them as he prepared to kill them. The omega had been tossed aside by all the alphas in his life, which was what lead to each of their untimely demises. Maybe Steve hadn’t realized that Eddie remembered that day, and that he truly didn’t care that he was a murderess.

“I can’t have pups,” Steve confessed suddenly with tears streaming down his cheeks. “At least, I don’t think I can. I’ve been on suppressants since I first presented. My parents didn’t like that I presented as an omega. But even after I killed them, I continued to take them.”

Eddie wrapped his burnt hands around Steve’s, ignoring the exciting sting of pain he felt from the touch in order to comfort his omega. Steve sniffled, so Eddie used his thumb to help him wipe away the tears that were falling. The sweet, murderous omega was much more than Eddie deserved in a mate, yet he couldn’t help want to hold onto Steve more, wrap his being around the omega until he had him completely to himself.

“It’s alright, my pet. Hopes not lost. Even if it’s true that you can’t bear pups, which I don’t think it is, here’s an old family recipe that Grandmama Joyce knows. It could help.”

“And if it doesn’t? What if it doesn’t work?”

“Then I’ll keep loving you and looking forward to your every vile attempt at my life for as long as you let me live.”

“You swear it?”

“I give you the word of a Munson that nothing in this world or the next could stop me from loving you as my mate.”

The omega looked away then nodded stiffly, showing that he understood. More tears were streaming down Steve’s face, so Eddie did the only thing he could do. He sat next to Steve on the couch and pulled him into a tight embrace, stroking Steve’s hair while whispering soothing words to him. For once, Steve didn’t resist and allowed Eddie to hold him as an alpha would hold their mate, with as much love and care that the alpha could give.

Part 3.1 ~ Masterpost ~ Part 3.3 (Coming Soon-ish)

A/N: Going to let them have sex on last time after this then end the chapter, so stay tuned for sweet, fluffy sex in the next part.

[darkkitty1208]

This art has been on my mind since I saw it, so... *drops this* *runs away*

~

It's a new thing, this relationship of theirs. Serizawa has never felt more nervous or thrilled about anything in his life.

Reigen and him are, well... a thing, now, he supposes. They've never really talked about putting a label on it, but what he's sure of is that they're definitely past calling each other friends and most definitely past what Reigen used to make him assume is a normal, professional coworker-to-coworker relationship. Which for the record, their previous so-called coworker dynamic wasn't exactly the conventional kind.

There's only one problem, though. Despite going out for dates sometimes, staying over each other's apartments, holding hands and sharing meals and kissing a few times... perhaps kissing a lot of times—neither of them have ever really... confessed. The traditional kind. With the three, simple words that seemed so climactic in romance movies.

It's not like he's afraid that Reigen won't say them back—their time spent together is proof enough that his feelings are reciprocated—but it's just that... the words feel too precious. Too intimate. Something meant to be reserved for grand, special moments. Something climactic. Like in romance movies.

Sometimes Serizawa finds himself holding the words back. They’re always in the simpler moments, too ordinary for something that holds far too much meaning. In evenings where they cuddle on the couch as the TV drones on, neither of them really watching. In times where Reigen laughs or smiles—the genuine kind, not just the ones he puts on display for clients—and Serizawa finds himself breathless at the sight.

In times like this, after they've gone out of their usual bar with one too many drinks; or at least, Serizawa drank three glasses of whiskey and is a little tipsy but holding himself pretty well, and Reigen drank a non-alcoholic lemon sour and is currently tripping balls.

It's raining when they left, and Serizawa's glad he has an umbrella on himself at all times. When they're sharing it like this, under the canopy that is the umbrella, clumsily making their way back to Reigen’s, he can't help but be hyper-aware of their proximity. The way the three words wait at the tip of his tongue, desperate for release. 

Reigen's babbling. Loudly, so he could speak over the rain, but Serizawa isn't really listening anyway. He's too busy tracing the lines of his face with his eyes, the barely comprehensible jumble of words coming out of those lips. There's something endearing about Reigen like this, slightly disheveled and hilariously talkative. More so than usual, really, but Serizawa has never had a problem with that to begin with.

Maybe it's the liquid courage in his bones. Maybe it's because he's not just a little tipsy. But this time, Serizawa finds he can't hold those three, precious words back.

"I love you," he blurts out before he knows it. And then the realisation hits him—deliberately, as the alcohol in his system slows everything to a trickle—and immediately begins to panic. "I— I mean, you— you don't need to say it back or anything, it's just—"

"I love you, too."

Serizawa's head turns to look downwards so quickly he has to reel himself in from the whiplash. There, under the shade of the umbrella, the gentle orange light from the streetlamp overhead casting a glow behind him, with a light dusting of pink on his cheeks that could be from the chill or the alcohol or... something else, stands Reigen, staring back at him with parted lips and a look of something like wonder.

"I love you, too," he repeats, slightly lower enough he would've missed it amidst the loud rain if not for how close they are, and Serizawa feels his own cheeks heat up.

Reigen's pupils remain steadily on his face as Serizawa's dart around to search his, and the next moment, they're kissing. He doesn't know who initiated it first; he leans down the same time Reigen reaches up on his tip toes, and their lips meet like it's the most natural thing in the world.

Distantly, he hears the clink of the umbrella as it slips from his hold and onto the wet ground, but he can't bring himself to care enough about the downpour subsequently wetting their suits and hair when Reigen's hand reaches up to cup his jaw. He can't bring himself to care enough about the chill that goes down his spine from the cold when Reigen angles their heads to deepen the kiss, pressing their bodies flush to each other until all Serizawa can think about is every point of contact between them. The way they mold together into one piece. Like two, perfectly fitting puzzles; made for each other.

His hands find themselves gripping onto Reigen's waist, trailing one backwards to the small of his back and up along a shoulderblade to push Reigen impossibly closer. His heart is thundering loudly in his chest that he's almost sure Reigen can hear it even with the rain loudly beating against the concrete.

It feels a little cliché. Like he's in one of those B-rated romcom movies Reigen likes to put on sometimes. It’s something he’s imagined so many times. It doesn’t feel as climactic as he had expected, if anything he feels the same way to Reigen as he had before, and it’s not anything he would even consider particularly special, but it still makes butterflies erupt in his stomach and his heart burst like confetti. It’s perfect. He wonders stupidly why he’s waited so long to say those words. 

It must be ridiculous to an outsider; two businessmen, fully suited but drenched from head to toe with rainwater, kissing under the rain as an umbrella lays casually on the ground beside them.

Serizawa can't help it, then—he pulls back, a sudden giddiness bubbling in his stomach and rising up his throat, and he giggles. He can barely blink his eyes open, assaulted as they are by the rain, but he can still make out the look of slight surprise in Reigen's face before he, too, is giggling.

And now this must look even more ridiculous to an outsider than before, and that just makes him giggle even harder.

He's breathless by the time Reigen wraps his arms around his neck, pulling his head back down until their laughter mingles together in the slight space between them and their wet foreheads bump to the other's. He can't tell whether he's tearing up or not from how hard he's laughing as the rain continues to drip down his face. Reigen only seems to pull them closer together.

"God, look what you've done to my suit," Reigen loudly complains, shoving his shoulder playfully with a sluggish hand. "We're so drunk. This is ridiculous."

Serizawa's laughter has reduced to small, rumbled chuckles now. With a gentle direction of his fingers, he floats the umbrella back up to hold it above them.

"Sorry," he says, but grinning still. 

“Oh, won't you kiss me on the mouth and love me like a sailor?

And when you get a taste, can you tell me what's my flavor?

I don't believe in God, but I believe that you're my savior

My mom says that she's worried, but I'm covered in this favor…”

——————————————————————————

Hi tumblr, it’s been a bit but I wanted to share this today! So take SeriRei but kissing in the rain

[deleteddewewted]

Learning Control

MDNI

NSFW

S: Titus is learning new things about himself, especially that he does in fact have a sex drive now that he's been given some time to rest which is a rarity for him. A serf who has shown him nothing but kindness since she started working for the Ultramarines has caught his eye and now he can't help but wonder what it would be like to taste her. To have her. Low and behold Titus finds that the feeling is mutual and he is put to the greatest test. Controlling himself as this lovely serf makes use of his dick for the first time in his entire life.

W: Dom! Reader, Sub! Reader, Virgin! Titus, Cockwarming, Riding, Serf! Reader, Age Gap (Only in the sense that Titus is 300+ and Reader is in their 20's - 30's+)

Titus didnt know that Astartes could feel sexual pleasure in any capacity. He had spent the entirety of his life never having a desire to masturbate or even have sex with anyone before so when he started experiencing episodes of great physical restlessness, he thought he had come down with some kind of illness. He tried fixing the issue on his own. His hands would rub against his penis in an attempt to hide his growing issue but the more he did the harder he became and he grew frustrated. He eventually went to an apothecary when the issue persisted and he was walking uncomfortably.

The apothecary, rolling its eyes at him, explained that his affliction was a baseline want. This initially distressed him, he didn't know what to do nor did he want to find out if he would enjoy releasing his problem. Would it mean he was defective as an angel of death? Did the Rubicon surgery go awry with him? He had no idea.

He didn't try to release himself until he met you. You had been cleaning his room, and as you moved about as he waited patiently for you to finish, he noticed the way your clothes hung over your body. He couldn't help but inspect the way your nipples perked and poked at the fabric of your cloak or the way your body arched as you cleaned below his bed. He desired you more than anything else in this world and the more time he watched you the more his desire grew.

He started following you more often than you followed him or his brothers. He began starting conversations with you in hopes that maybe your voice would grant him some relief from his ever present issue. He had you sit on his lap after you where done cleaning his chambers. He would ask to hold you just to inhale your scent to then in the privacy of his chambers rut into his mattress in search of some relief. He allowed you to clean his face from sweat and dirt just to be able to feel your skin against his own. All of this culminated into the day he would ask you to fuck him once though he didn't know how to ask for this exactly. He approached you and asked you for some personal assistance with an issue of his and once in his chambers, with the door closed shut and locked, he took of his armor and peeled off his body suit. His cock sprung out, the tip red and dripping with cum already. His balls were full and hung heavy as he removed his clothes.

"Please... aid me, y/n." He begged. His voice almost came out as a whine as he bucked his hips at you in hopes you would know what to do. Thankfully for him you did. You began to slowly pump his cock and watched as the once fearsome warrior reduced into nothing but a groaning moaning mess.

You eventually found yourself cockwarming him. You had him sit at his desk and read the codex while you rolled your hips and seeked your own relief while forcing him to remain composed. He bucked and let out breathy moans as you moved.

“My heart, please…. Tell me what to do.” He would moan out. He would beg, face flushed and fucked out.

“Fuck! I’m cumming! Let me-“

“No, be patient Titus.” You argued. And so you sat there, unmoving until his orgasm dissipated. Titus whimpered as your walls tightened around him. You were torture. He loved it but he wished he wasn’t so inexperienced so he could make you feel just as good.

You began to bounce up and down his cock just as he started reading again. You ordered him to read out loud so that you may also learn but you could care less. You searched for your own high as his dick split you in half. He was thick and it made you feel over filled with every thrust. The sound of your ass meeting his thighs turned you on even more. Titus, not being able to stop himself, placed his hand on your stomach just to push you back against his chest. He was close and he begged in between breaths.

“Please….Please…..!” He gasped as he came. He buried himself deeper inside of you, filling you insides with his thick cum. He didn’t want to pull out, you were just so warm and your body was just so welcoming.

You were spent and tired, your legs shook as you tried composing yourself post orgasm. You turned your head and kissed him which he reciprocates back. You both stayed there until you felt like you could walks again and he could steel his expression so he could afec his brothers again. He licked you clean, his tongue rough on your pussy but ever so welcoming as it cleaned the cum that spilled out of you. He went to shower but before he did he promised to properly court you. That he wanted more from you and he hoped you’d want more from him as well.

[leifyposting]

Klee’s fortnightly sleepover at the Gunnhildr mansion, originally some scheme cooked up by Lisa to force Jean to bed on time at least once every two weeks, has devolved somewhat into an opportunity for all the people who love Klee to gather for dinner at Jean’s place and swap stories and gossip far too late into the night.

But now Klee is in bed and the dining room is quiet, and Albedo, who is the last one out, having had the honour of putting Klee to bed tonight, is stepping out into the crisp fall air.

He turns around and looks up at the figure of the Acting Grand Master silhouetted in the doorframe. She seems softer, like this, with the strong lines of her body blurred by the golden light of her foyer lamp.

“Thank you for coming, Albedo,” she says. “I had a lovely evening. I know Klee did too.”

“It was my pleasure,” he says, the polite human response coming instantly to his tongue. 

It is almost too easy, these days, blending in among the humans. He is a far cry from the awkward, socially inept homunculus he was only a few years ago, the one whose mannerisms marked him out as other even if not necessarily as inhuman. The vendors in the marketplace smile at him now when he passes — and, which is more, he finds himself smiling back.

And he forgets, day by day, little by little, who he really is. And he forgets that he does not belong here.

Which is perhaps why he says: “Master Jean, can I ask you a question?”

She shifts, her head tilting. “Of course.”

“How far would you go to protect Mondstadt?”

She blinks down at him, apparently thrown. “How do you mean?”

“I mean,” he clarifies, “if for some reason Mondstadt was in danger because of me. Or, to make it more tangible, if I had put Klee in danger somehow. Would you kill me?”

She makes a tiny, horrified noise. “Why are we talking about this hypothetical?”

“I’m a man of science,” he says, letting his voice tip halfway to joking. “Humour me.”

He watches the protests hover on her tongue before she swallows them down. “Walk me through the scenario again.”

“It’s quite simple,” he says. “The context doesn’t matter. All you need to know is that I have put Klee and the rest of Mondstadt in danger somehow, and the only way to save her is to kill me. Would you?”

Jean swallows, but he can see her answer in the set of her jaw even before she opens her mouth. “Yes,” she says. “I would.”

Albedo nods. This is the answer he was looking for. He is the anomaly, the transgression, the liability; she must be willing to kill him to save the people they both love. He shouldn’t feel as betrayed as he does.

“Still,” Jean says, before he can thank her and turn to leave, “there must be other options.”

“Pardon?”

“Either I kill you or I let Klee die. Why are those my only two choices?”

“I…” He trails off. “Just because.”

She shakes her head. “From a man of science, that’s not very scientific.”

He laughs a little incredulously. “I suppose I never saw any other way forward.”

“Well, the forced dilemma is part of the fun,” Jean allows graciously. “But real life is messier than that.”

“I think, in this hypothetical, there would be no other options.”

She makes a low, noncommittal noise. “I’m not saying you’re wrong. I’m just saying that maybe you aren’t seeing the whole picture.”

“How do you mean?” he asks, echoing her earlier words.

“I mean…” She pauses. “Eula is out in the field a lot, so she sees much more of the day-to-day workings of the Knights than I do. But as the Acting Grand Master, I have a bird’s-eye view of the organization as a whole. As a result, when faced with a quandary, she often offers solutions I would never have come up with on my own, and vice versa.” She makes a small motion with her hand, like she’s going to touch his shoulder, then drops it again. “That’s why we have people around us. So they can catch things we miss.”

“I see,” Albedo says. 

Jean’s blue-grey eyes, shadowed in the dim light, search his face. He fights the urge to look away from that piercing gaze. 

“I would hope,” she says finally, her voice low, “that if you believed you were a danger to yourself or others, you would come to me. I’m not saying I can always help. But the Knights look after our own, Captain.”

“I see,” Albedo says again. His chest is tight. “Thank you, Master Jean.”

She scrutinizes him for a moment more, then smiles a small smile. “I hope my answer was satisfactory?”

“Very much so.”

She looks relieved. “Oh, good. I was worried I wasn’t making much sense there.” 

“You made perfect sense,” he reassures her, strangely endeared by her earnestness. “But now it’s late, and you should get to bed. I’ll take my leave.”

“Very well. Have a good night, Albedo,” she says.

He turns away, and watches the sliver of golden light from the foyer fade into shadow as the door shuts. The chill autumn air threads around his ankles as he sets his feet towards home.

If he ever loses control, she will not be able to save him. He knows that already. 

Still, it is nice to know that she would try.