#sketchy kitchen shit

[homunculus-argument]

If I had more money than I'd ever spend in a lifetime, I'd spend my life operating a pizzeria at a loss. Something with the slogan of "it ain't italian but you're hungry" - and a statement of how this is not authentic italian pizza because the owner's estranged aunt's italian ex-husband would not serve pizza in his italian restaurant because as far as he was concerned, a pizza is the "just throw that shit together" dish that you make out of leftovers, and he would not serve that to paying customers even if they wanted it. True story btw.

But I'd just like to run a place where the staff is allowed to tell rude customers to fuck off. And if they're scared to do that, they can summon me downstairs to do it myself (this fantasy involves having my own apartment upstairs of the restaurant), because you don't fucking disrespect my staff like that. Develop a reputation as a place where You'd Better Act Yourself or you get nothing, which elevates the quality of the food in peoples' minds because it's human to assume that more work=more worth, and if a pizza place can afford to simply throw rude customers out, that clearly must mean that the food is just that good that going back is worth it anyway.

Hiring enough people to get the work done in a leisurely pace and occasionally have the time to chat with each other or customers. You just do the job I gave you in the time I gave you, don't steal anything and don't watch porn off your phone anywhere where the customers can see you, you're good. Don't care if you quit school at 16 if you can still mop floor. Don't care if you've been to prison because you killed some guy, as long as you're not doing that here. Don't care if you deal drugs on your free time as long as you don't bring your business to your day job. This place is exclusively for pizza business.

Have an item on the menu called "random pizza" - and if you order that one, they'll just throw in a mix of whatever ingredients we've got too much of, like if the bell peppers gotta be used before they go bad, every single random pizza is going to have them until they're either gone or need to get tossed. If you've got dietary restrictions or allergies, you gotta specify that while ordering, because other than that, random pizza is just whatever ingredients we need to get rid of. Surplus ingredients du jour.

Building a reputation as a place that's somehow simultaneously sketchy as hell but also remarkably high quality, getting five star restaurant customer service from a waiter with blue hair and stick-n-poke tattoos, there's a homeless guy at the back of the kitchen eating an order that nobody picked up, every surface is spotless and no matter how important of a suit-and-tie you are, if you won't behave yourself the owner will personally physically fight you.

[nanaslutt]

so i just read like… ALL your gojo stuff.

now imagine… gojo not being able to hold back and wanting to breed you after you both try those aphrodisiac chocolates… ahem…

i am absolutely terrified of getting pregnant yet have the words most insufferable breeding kink, we exist

Contains: fem reader, aphrodisiacs, masturbation, no prep, spanking, rough sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, multiple orgasms, SOOO much dirty talk, praise, so much cum.., whiped!gojo, established relationship

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

Gojo was talking soooo much shit when you sent him a link to some aphrodisiac chocolates you saw online. He would not stop dismissing that they didn’t actually work; saying none of that shit that advertised any kind of enhancement in sexual arousal ever did.

So of course you had to order the chocolates and really test it for yourselves, making a challenge out of it.

If the chocolates truly had an effect, gojo would do whatever you wanted, and if they didn’t? vice versa. Gojo was game, of course; because he didn’t think anything would happen.

“Bleh- they taste like shit too,” Satoru grimaced, chasing the horrible flavor with a strawberry soda.

“That’s probably because there’s something in them satoru…like the aphrodisiac…,” you shook you head, swallowing the bitter chocolate.

“Orrrr; crazy thought; it’s just some cheap chocolate marketed as aphrodisiacs to make a ton of money off of people like us.” he drawled, throwing his hands up in the air and waving them around when he spoke.

“I really thought you out of all people would find this kind of thing fun satoru.” you said, trying to push his buttons a bit.

“We’ll of course, chocolate and sex? I’m all over that,” he said making you laugh, “but me and suguru tried something like this for fun back in our student days, it was some kind of pill though,” his face twisted in discomfort as he spoke, “just ended up making us super sick tho, yaga got pissed, heh” he laughed, remembering the memory.

“Knowing you two it was probably some cheap boner pill you got in a sketchy bag at the convenience store.. so that might explain it.” you snorted,

He rubbed his big hand over the back of his neck, “yeah, there was like 5 other pills in the bag with it now that I think about it..” he said quietly, making you hunch over in a laugh.

The two of you went about your evening like normal, watching some comedy movie that was on and cuddling together on the sofa. When it ended you went off to change into something more comfortable as you started off to finished the laundry.

You haven’t felt anything extremely out of the ordinary yet; remembering that the package said it might take long for women to feel the affects; but gojo on the other hand was feeling mildly uncomfortable.

His face and neck were feeling warm, throughout the entire movie his big hand was placed on your upper thigh, like always. What was unusual though, was how his skin tingled when he placed it on yours, palms sweating more than usual; he just chalked it up to all the junk he had been eating throughout the day, probably upsetting his body.

When you moved back into the kitchen and started on the dishes the two of you had created in the sink, Gojo couldn’t help but hyper focus on the fat off your ass peeking out of your night shorts.

The way you moved your hips as some r&b music played quietly from the tv. He watched your muscles and tendons move together when you twisted your body around, watching your ankles cross; one behind the other; getting comfortable from where you stood.

Satoru was feeling hot all over now, a large hand coming down to grope himself over his pants when you bent over to put the dishes into the washer, poking out your clothed mound towards him, the fabric of your shorts squeezing your curves just right.

His jaw dropped slightly, breathing heavier as he got off on watching you do such a mundane task like the dishes.

You inserted the pod into the dishwasher, completely oblivious to satoru’s shenanigans as you stood up straight. You noticed when washing your hands that you were starting to feel a warmth washing over your body, and a sort of warm coil tightening in your tummy.

The lightbulb went off in your head when you realized it was probably the work of the chocolates. You quickly shut off the water, towel is hand as you whipped your head behind you to tell gojo what was happening to you; and to inform him that you were going to win this challenge.

Your motions were stopped short as you bumped straight into gojos chest, “Oh! Didn’t realize you were-“ Your words getting cut off when gojo grabbed the bottom of your face, bringing your lips to his, and kissing you hungrily.

Gojo used his other had to slide his arm around your body, pressing you hard into him, letting you feel his erection against your tummy.

He pushed his tongue into your mouth, swallowing your words that tried to excape, “Sa-mm- Satoru-“ you got out between kisses. Gojo shoved his knee between your legs, putting delicious pressure on your cunt as he kissed you like it was his last day on earth.

You had to grip his hair and pull his face off of you to speak, this didn’t really phase him as he targeted your neck instead, biting and sucking on the skin there, “Fuck- s-satoru slow down-“ you moaned when he sucked on a particularly sensitive spot.

“Cant, need you-“ he spoke in between his rushed love bites on your neck, moving his big hands to hold your hips as he made you rock your cunt back and forth along this thigh.

Your head was spinning a mild a minute, still trying to wrap your head around the current situation. You expected this to happen; being on the side of ‘pro aphrodisiacs and all; you just didn’t expect it to happen so soon, and for it to have such a strong effect on someone like Satoru.

“S-shit- those chocolates have you m-more worked up than me,” you tried to laugh, voice cut short by a moan when his knee nudged your clit at a particularly mouthwatering angle.

“Need to be inside you,” he ignored you, groaning against your pulse point, hot breath tickling your neck when he spoke.

Gojo was breathing so heavily, his cock feeling like it was about to rip a hole in his pants at how hard he was. “Take em off, now-“ he whimpered, referring to your bottoms as he started pulling them down your legs, panties following suit.

You helped him, gripping his hair and keeping his lips pressed against your neck while you kicked off your shorts off from around your ankles . His hands dropped down to remove his own sweats, too impatient to fully take them off as he pulled them down just enough for his cock to spring out, jerking himself off with one hand rapidly between you; hand holding your hip with his other.

“Let me put it in, please, need to be inside you now-“ he groaned, finally pulling back from your neck; and he looked absolutely wrecked.

This whole situation was giving you whiplash, but you felt bad for him. Satoru’s hands were shaking, face flushed completely crimson, and he was sweating and panting like he just ran a marathon.

He continued stroking his cock, eyes flirting between your pussy and your pretty lips while he waited for them to move, voicing your consent.

His cock was dripping so much pre it looked like he already came. Hard cock still dripping steadily onto his hand and fingers, making his strokes emit loud ‘plp’ sounds into the air.

“Yes, please, give it to me toru,” you spoke, making him let out a moan of satisfaction. You wrapped your arms around his neck when he lifted you suddenly, burring your hands in his hair and face in his neck as he slid his dick into you with zero prep, all at once.

You were greatful the aphrodisiac was in affect, making you so much wetter than normal, and in turn, making the stretch a whole less painful then it would’ve been without it.

You whined at how his massive clock split you in half effortlessly, “Sorry baby- m’ sorry-“ he apologized with a groan against your bruised neck; whatever consciousness he still had left being aware that that might’ve hurt you.

“Shit it’s o-okay toru, just give it to me- fuck-“ You tipped your head back, jaw dropping and releasing a loud whine, giving him more access to mark up your neck while he fucked into you like a mad man; legs dangling over his arms as he held you in his strong grasp, hoisting you up and down on his cock like you weighed nothing to him.

“Holy fuckkk” he whined, vibrations going through your skin, “Need to fill you up, need to fuck you full of my cum s-shit-“ Gojo was working himself up with his words, already on the brink of his orgasm only a couple thrusts in.

He was truly using you like a cocksleve as he fucked into you at an inhumane pace, heavy balls slapping against your ass, strings of your combined wetness connecting to your ass each time he thrusted inside.

He sucked harder against your skin as he felt his first high rapidly approach him. His eyes repeatedly rolling back in his skull at the rhythmic pulsing of your pussy around him.

“Shitshitshit- gonna c-cum, need you to take it all f’me” his deep voice reverberated through you, all you could do is cry and moan our strings of his name and “yesyesyes” while he fucked his first load of the night into you.

“T-take it f-fucking take it yessss” Gojo felt like he was on cloud nine, he had never felt anything like this before. Of course he loved cumming inside you when you had sex but this was different. Every neuron in his brain was telling him to fuck load after load into you; to get you pregnant.

Gojo didn’t actually want kids right now, and you were on the pill so the possibility of him actually knocking you up was low- but not if his aphrodisiac brain had anything to say about it; he would make sure to fucking try.

Ignoring the overstimulation he felt as he humped his cum into you with heavy thrusts, quickly picking up his speed again when he finished spurting the warm ropes of cum into you, making you squeal at his quick recovery.

“Pussy feels so fucking good, so fucking wet sh-itttt” he groaned, dick twitching and abs clenching as he fucked himself through the aftershocks of his orgasm, sending him straight twords another one.

“T-toru o-oh my god-“ you wimpered, body flopping around limply at the intense pleasure. His cock was drilling straight into your sweet spot and making you dizzy. You tried not to pass out as he manhandled your body, gripping you roughly and marking up your skin everywhere his insatiable lips could reach.

“Gonna knock you up baby- g-gunna give you my babies- get you fucking pregnant, yeah? you want that?” you cut off his filthy mouth by using the grip you had on his head to press his mouth against yours.

“Yesyesyes, give me your babies toru- gonna make you a daddy-“ he groaned into your mouth at your mutual need for him to fill you up.

Gojo felt drunk hearing the nickname bounce around inside his head. Gojo never thought he had a daddy kink, but in this scenario? The nickname had him feeling like he was about to come again already.

By this point, the aphrodisiac was affecting you just as much as it was him, everywhere his body touched yours felt like your skin was on fire. You tried not to lose your sanity as he was pushing your towards your first orgasm without so much as even grazing your clit.

He set you down on the ground and in one swift movement spun you around so you were facing the counter. Satoru used his massive had to grab hold of his cock, slipping it back into your drenched walls.

You both groaned in unison at the sensation. Gojo gave you both a couple seconds to relish in the feeling, pressing his balls hard against your ass before he picked up his same ruthless pace as before.

“Good fucking girl- gonna look so fucking pretty with ur belly all round with my baby shiiit” he groaned when he felt your cunt clench around him at the idea.

He brought his massive palm down feeling your cunt squeeze him, leaving a heavy spank against your ass and gripping the fat between his fingers.

“Pussy tryna fuckin’ milk me down here” he laughed, biting his lip when he watched your hand come down to rub your clit in quick circles, “Yeaahhh fucking touch your pussy for me baby, make urself cum all over my dick while i fill you up.” he instructed, clenching his jaw.

“Shit- g-give it to me daddy- cum inside me-” you mindlessly babbled, there you go again with that fucking nickname that had his balls tightening.

You feet the coil wind itself up quicker than normal at your enhanced sexual arousal from the chocolate and the now added stimulation of touching your neglected clit.

“Come with me baby, gotta feel you cum around me- please” he begged, leaving another loud slap against your ass before pulling you back on his dick roughly by your hips.

“S -shit it’s coming it’s coming i’m- fuckfuck- ngghhh” your warned, voice cutting out as you started to come around his girth while he fucked you through it.

“yeeeeeess baby- fuuuuck- milk my fucking cock fuck-“ he watched intently as your little hole clenched around him, his first load spurting out around his cock with the pressure of your orgasm, making the white ring around the base of his dick get even messier.

“I’m coming again baby- take it for me- need you to take it all, gotta make sure it t-takes” he whined, getting you pregnant still on the forfront of his brain.

Your legs would’ve collapsed on the floor if he wasn’t holding up a majority of your weight by your hips. Your nails slid against the marble as his cock rammed against your cervix, making you dizzy, broken moans getting forced out of your mouth at the feeling of getting repeatedly impaled on his cock.

You tried to gain a little bit of brainpower back to help gojo through his orgasm just like he did for you, “y-e-sss toru’ cum inside me please- i’ll take it all- be a good girl for you-“ your voice squeaked out, words getting louder at the end with how rough his thrusts were,

He leaned over your back, pressing his sweaty chest onto you while he wrapped you in a tight bear hug, not ceasing his ruthless hips, “Need you t-to kiss me baby- go-nna be instense” he whimpered against your shoulder, waiting for you to turn your head twords him to give him access to your mouth.

When you did he wasted no time in pressing his lips to yours. The two of you swallowed each others moans as his pitch got higher and higher; his tight grip was sure to leave dark bruises on your body as he held onto you for dear life at his impending orgasm.

When the coil finally snapped, he shook violently against you, hips stilling against your ass, pressing his hips as deep as he could into you while hot ropes of cum filled you up even more than his last load, making more cum spill out around him at how full you already were.

His breath was hitching into your mouth, lips doing their best to kiss you back as his jaw kept falling open as the waves of his high washed over him.

He whined and dropped his head against your shoulder when he started to come down. Gojo panted heavily against your skin, twitching in the aftershocks of his high.

“D-don’t move please” he requested, fucking his softening cock into you a couple more times to make sure his cum was as deep inside you as it could go.

“Fuck toru- feel so full right now..” you wined into the marble, wincing in overstimulation at his final few weak thrusts.

After a couple seconds he finally pulled out his cock, gulping hard as he watched his cum start to dribble out of you; making you whine at the slightly uncomfortable feeling.

He used a couple fingers to spread your pussy lips; admiring his work for a second before he used to fingers to scoop his cum back up, stuffing his thick digits back inside of you, “Gotta get that plug of yours to keep it all in,” he said, biting his lip at how soft you felt around his fingers.

“Or you could let me cockwarm you,” you giggled, turning your head back to look at him while he looked enthralled with your cunt.

“God I love you, smartest fucking girl I know.” he praised.

You fell into a fit of giggles when he scooped you up in his arms, peppering kisses onto your face while he headed twords your shared bedroom.

You wrapped your legs tightly around his waist while he walked, keeping them snug even when he dropped the two of you on the mattress together. Gojo’s large frame laying on top of you as he reached his hand down between you to slide his semi-hard cock back into your oversensitive walls, making you hiss at the feeling, “Sorry baby- almost in,” he promised, kissing your cheeks while he fully bottomed out.

He rolled his eyes at how warm and soft you felt around his dick, sucking soft hickeys into the crook of your neck while you pet his damp hair.

“I’ll clean you up in a second my love, promise, you just feel too good right now.” he let out a short laugh against you.

“‘S okay toru, makes me feel good too.” you tipped your head forward and pressed kisses onto the top of his scalp.

“We gotta be careful with those chocolates,” he laughed, “Might acctually knock you up one day if we keep eatin those,”

“That doesn’t sound half bad,” you confessed, squeezing your legs harder around his hips.

“Dangerous words to say right now pretty girl,” he warned, smirking into your skin,

“Oh right, guess you won the bet,” he remembered, “Whacha want ur big strong boyfriend to do for you?” he asked teasingly,

“Cum inside me again, right now,” you requested after a beat, emphasizing your need by squeezing your pussy walls around him, making him inhale a sharp breath between his teeth.

“Fuck… you serious?” he smirked, lifting his head to look at you.

“Don’t keep me waiting, give me my prize toru,” you pouted your bottom lip at him, making his brain short circuit as he felt his cock twitch back to life.

You ended up taking a plan B the next morning… just in case…

[cascadianights]

Update on this: I added some lavender essential oils to mine and tea tree oils to my partner's, it works AMAZING at keeping mosquitoes away and soothing the various scratches and bumps I get covered in.

I didn't realize how well it was working until my partner accidentally knocked the rest of my mini batch over and I had to go a week without it - I got covered in bites over a few days.

I want it more solid at room temperature so I'm adding another 3 cups of beef tallow to the main batch, and taking the opportunity to steep some more healing herbs into it - rose petals, mallow root, mullein leaves and root, Calendula flowers, self-heal; then some more fennel peppermint and spearmint for smell.

It smells amazing, I'll post pics once it's ready to be filtered and jarred

Making anti-mosquito lotion with herbs & "weeds" from my garden

For good smells & repellant:

Lavender flowers & leaves

Lemon balm leaves

Garden thyme leaves

Garden sage leaves

Fennel leaves

Rosemary leaves

Mint and Peppermint leaves

Chives

For soothing existing bites:

Dock leaves and roots

Cannabis roots

Calendula flowers

Using beef tallow (bc I just finished rendering and purifying some) w olive oil as a carrier, but I'd like to add some beeswax in the future

[redflagshipwriter]

Fast Car Three (of four)

masterpost

“Why would I ever need help from Victor?” Danny scrunched up his brow and puzzled aloud after his passenger got out. He didn't mean to be rude but he was genuinely confused. Vic seemed nice enough, but he was kinda delicate, wasn't he? He was scared of Batman. What for? He was just some guy who was so risk-averse that he wore a motorcycle helmet out in public. He probably held the world's record for diagnosed anxiety disorders or something. 

‘I’m lucky he's so reactive,’ Danny chided himself not to be ungrateful. ‘If he wasn't, like, hyper-vigilant I might have had to talk to Batman. Horrific.’

He shuddered at the thought. He had planned to work a little more, but Danny decided to go back home and rest for a bit. His nerves were a little shot after the excitement of the morning. 

Oh, right. He hadn't checked what his tip was yet. Danny unfolded the bills and his eyes bugged out. “This is fifty dollars,” he said incredulously. “He paid me fifty dollars to take him like 10 blocks, with a 50 block detour.” 

Was Victor, like, okay? Danny cast a dubious look back in his rearview mirror and caught the barest glance of Victor's ridiculously jacked form disappearing into one of the murder warehouses. What a guy. Why'd he do-

“He was hitting on me?” Danny's voice reached a whistle pitch. Ah! Ah!!! Holy shit. What the hell? His face burnt red and he floored it back to his apartment complex, trying to get his heart rate under control. 

It was so obvious in retrospect! The weird awkward pauses in conversation! The huge tips! Asking for his number! 

Danny pulled to a stop at a yellow light rather than run it explicitly so that he could bang his head against the steering wheel. 

“I don't even know if he's hot,” Danny wailed. Instantly he knew it was a lie. He didn't know what Victor’s face looked like. He didn't remember what the photo had looked like anymore and the information was long gone. But he knew that Victor was tall, fit as fuck, and had really nice hands. 

Danny bit his lip and howled sadly. It helped, a little. He stole a glance at the receipt with Victor's phone number on it. He couldn't help but memorize the number. 

“I'm not going to call,” Danny told himself. Even if it was flattering. Victor might be a sketchy guy! Only sketchy people were out at the hours Danny worked. Danny couldn't afford association with anyone like that because he needed the authorities to never ever look at him. 

Also, and probably more importantly: you can't go to medical school if you have any kind of criminal record. If Danny was going to be Doctor Fenton the fourth and be able to provide his and Ellie's medical care, he needed to be a model citizen. He couldn’t trust that Vic would keep him out of whatever weird shit he was involved in.

Well. It wasn't like he was complicit in anything. Danny parked his beloved shitty car in the garage and took the stairs up to his apartment. He opened the door, saw Batman in his kitchen, and closed the door.

“Fuck.” 

Danny turned intangible and dropped like a rock through the floors. He was back in the driver's seat in less than 5 seconds. He turned it on and called Victor with one hand, because he'd just gotten the guy's number and he didn't exactly know a lot of Gothamites. “Hey, what do I do if Batman is in my apartment?” He said as soon as it connected. He turned the car on and peeled out onto the street.

“Wha- move, I guess. Is he there for fucking real?” Victor's electronic voice somehow managed to come across incredulous. “You probably shouldn't go back there. You're in your car?” A horn honked in the background. “You're faster,” Victor said. His confidence gave Danny a little. “I'll send you my gps point. Come to me and we can strategize how to get him off your tail.”

Danny swallowed hard. “Okay,” he said, and violently repressed the part of him asking why this nervous ass Gothamite would know any better than he did. At least Victor was a local. His phone pinged and he opened up the address. “Got it.”

“See you soon.” Victor hung up. 

Danny burnt rubber out of there, heart all the way up in his throat. Why was Batman after him? What did he know? He gasped for air, feeling like he was choking. He needed to be normal. He needed to- to get his degree and get his career and never ever have a whole fucking militaristic brancho of the government after him. He was one guy. When he was 14 he'd thought it was a funny game and the GIW were a bunch of chumps. But they were a bunch of chumps with money, weapons, and numbers. He couldn't afford to fuck with them. The fact that his parents gritted their teeth through associating with the GIW was the only thing that kept suspicion off of Danny.

He cycled through a panic attack and then into anger. What the hell, dude? Danny got that Batman had a bee up his ass about metahumans “in his city” (like he fucking owned it??) but Danny wasn't causing crime or fighting it. He was going to classes and trying to survive. Batman had no right to get involved in his business. 

He was steaming mad by the time he pulled up to where Victor was waiting for him. Victor hauled open an old style garage door and ushered him in quickly. Danny parked inside and sighed over the steering wheel. It took a few moments to center himself and then he got out. “Hey.” He lifted a hand in greeting and then shoved it in his pocket, feeling unimaginably weary. It wasn't even 5 am, jeeze. What was his life? “Thanks for answering.” He cleared his throat and bumped his butt against the hood of his car. “Helluva morning,” he complained dryly.

“It's no problem.” Victor seemed a little stiff and uncomfortable, standing in the middle of the other parking space. Either that or he was posing. “It's not your fault.”

Danny let out a snort. “It's not, but what does that matter?” He shrugged. And then he realized- “Wait, do you know what I am- scratch that.” He made a hand gesture to wave that away. Victor had known what Amity Park was offhand and he'd had a chance to see Danny phase the car through solid matter. “I guess what matters more is why Batman is on my ass. D’you think he knows?” 

Victor looked at him for a long time. “No…” 

“No, what?” Danny narrowed his eyes up at the taller man. 

“I don't think Batman knows that you're…” Victor made a gesture at Danny that explained nothing. “Whatever you are. I think he wants to ask you what you know about me.”

Danny stared blankly at him. “About you,” he echoed. He gave Victor a dubious look. “Why would he care about you?” 

Victor lifted a gloved finger and pointed at his helmet as if that was supposed to mean something. Danny tilted his head to the side like a bird and raised one eyebrow. “Because I'm the Red Hood?” Victor said dubiously. “You know that, right?” 

“You're Victor,” Danny said. He furrowed his brows. “Is - is The Red Hood like, your drag persona or something? Cool for you but it's not really relevant -” 

Victor tore off the helmet to reveal a face that was a lot younger than Danny had anticipated. “It's not a drag persona,” he snapped. “It's- I'm the Red goddamn Hood! You have to have seen me on the news!” 

Danny mutely shook his head. He thought about saying that he didn’t watch the news, but he sort of felt bad for the guy. It was probably safer not to comment.

“It's been non-stop,” Victor said, and Danny could really tell how incredulous he felt without that goofy voice filter effect removing the pout from his voice. “I dropped 13 human heads off at the police station yesterday. Come on!” 

He blinked. 

Wait.

One.

Second.

“You had me take you to the police with contraband?” Danny roared, incandescent with fury. 

“Uh.” Victor looked a little shifty now, even with that dweeb ass mask covering from his eyebrows to his cheekbones. “Yeah, I guess-”

“I'm going to go to medical school!” Danny roared, and suplexed the bastard. Victor went down with a howl and a valiant attempt to dig out Danny's eye with his bent index and middle fingers. Danny went selectively intangible and rolled them both over to start slapping Victor on his stupid face. “I-” slap “can't” slap “have” slap “a criminal record!” He leaned so far forward that his lips were nearly touching Victor's. “Capiche?” Danny jabbed a finger into Victor's stupidly ripped chest. 

“Um.” 

“Capiche? Understand? Do you get my meaning?” Danny howled. “I am an illegal entity! My paperwork is suspect!” He dug his knees a little harder into Victor's sides, struggling to control his strength. 

“Hey man, me too,” said Victor. He seemed mildly surprised by this commonality. “That's why I can't get a driver's license.” He put his hands up by his head. The movement made his incredible biceps sort of…pulse. Bulge? 

Danny blinked, attention caught by something about what Victor had said. “How'd you get your Uber account verified without- oh my god!” He threw his hands up in disgust. “You're not even Victor, are you? Your first word to me was a lie?” 

Not-Victor laughed. Danny was surprised enough that he loosened his grip. But the other guy didn't try to get out. “You're fun,” he said. He had a nice smile, crooked and kissable. Oh, fuck.

Danny felt his whole face burn red. Shit. Abort. He scrambled up, suddenly mortified that he was sitting on the other guy. “What's your name?” he demanded, trying to sound unaffected and mean. 

“Jay.” 

“You're sure this time?” Danny managed to work up a little more indignation. 

“Hands to god, on my grave,” Jay promised. Danny sort of hated that he believed it. 

Danny relented. “Fine.” It wasn’t like he had any moral high ground to stand on about maintaining secret identities, if he was honest. He huffed and crossed his arms. “How do I get Batman off my ass? I'm guessing you don't want me to talk to him about you.”

[motherlvr]

Your Morally Gray Neighborhood Spider-woman

SPOILERS FOR ATSV, this includes the plot of ATSV

Word count: 2.9k

Pairing: Prowler! Miles Morales x Spider-woman! Reader, Earth 1610! Miles Morales & reader

This is a continuation of Part 1 but may be read as a stand-alone. this will probably be the last part of this for now, thank you for reading!

Summary: During a minor identity crisis, you question your morals. Further adding to your list of problems, it seems like Miles has a twin brother he failed to mention to you.

Warnings: nothing too serious, established relationship with Prowler! Miles, possessive miles, Major spoilers for ATSV, not canon, minimal cursing, jealousy, reader is so silly sometimes, i got sappy at the end sorry, fluffy ending

A/N: just know that if u interact with any of my works then i literally love u with all my heart

You weren't sure where your morals lie, but you assumed they were in the gray area. Matter of fact, you must be colorblind.

Could you even be considered a Friendly Neighborhood Spider-woman anymore? You were sure it was against your moral code to be dating a guy that you had previously described as a "cold-blooded killer." Who were you now? The Morally Gray Neighborhood Spider-woman? It wasn't nearly as catchy. Maybe you were an anti-hero now. Is it possible for a Spider-person to be an anti-hero? Surely not, you thought.

Interrupting your thoughts was the buzz of a phone. Miles' phone. You soon realized your present state, burrowed against your boyfriend on his bed. He had a suffocating grip on you, like he was afraid you'd disappear if he let go. Letting you get a breath of air, he loosened his grip on you to check his notification.

He slowly unwrapped his arms from around you and started to rise from the bed. He pressed his lips to yours before saying, "Lo siento, mami. Uncle Aaron needs me." He started putting on his Prowler gear.

To be frank, you were sick and tired. You've heard the same excuse over and over from Miles. At this point, you didn't understand why he was being so cryptic. What secret is there to hide if you already know he's the Prowler?

"Miles, enough with that vague shit. You keep acting like you're Batman or something." You sass, rolling your eyes at him and laying up in his bed. It was surprising how much he let you get away with. If anyone else had said that to him, he'd claw their throats out, surely.

"Let me come with you, Miles." You suggested, immediately jumping off his bed to follow him. He didn't like that idea. Not one bit, and it was clear on his face. "Hermosa," Miles started, but you interrupted him, pointing a finger at his face. "You know damn well I am fully capable of protecting myself. Just let me into your life, Miles. I want to see what's so important that you have to go and ditch your girlfriend yet again." You dramatically sigh, hoping he'll cave. After a few moments, Miles eventually gave in. "Fine. C'mon, princesa." He sighed and gestured for you to follow him.

He led you to what seemed to be a sketchy, dull, and grimy basement. If he wasn't infatuated with you, you'd wonder whether he was plotting to murder you down here. Upon further inspection, it was actually an apartment. As your eyes scanned the eerie room, you noticed chains hanging on the walls and an abnormal amount of weapons. However, there was also a large flatscreen and a kitchen. You could only assume that this was their Prowler Cave.

Other than the random civilian tied up on a punching bag, it looked like a fairly normal room. Almost cozy, if you were being generous.

Speaking of, why was there some poor boy restrained on a punching bag? You could barely see him due to the punching bag being larger than him, but from your current standpoint, you could only assume he was around your age or younger.

Miles stepped in front of you, holding a hand out to prevent you from taking a step further. Curling your lip in a frown, you shooed his hand away and continued walking, but stopped before the hostage could spot you. He stayed behind, lurking in the corner.

Miles' uncle greeted you both, "I've got a surprise for y'all." Apparently, Miles had let his uncle know in advance that you were welcome into his Prowler cave.

Miles, ever loving his dramatic entrances, jumped down from the corner he was lurking in. You had to stifle your laugh.

Uncle Aaron rotated the punching bag, revealing the unfortunate boy that got restrained upon it. Your jaw fell to the ground. You couldn't believe what you were seeing. How was this possible? You started to wish you had paid attention during Physics.

Attached to the punching bag was a near-identical copy of your beloved boyfriend. His eyes were wide full of fear, and for a second, you felt pity for him. Uncle Aaron left the room, leaving only you and the two Miles.

"Your dad is still alive?" Miles asked his impersonator, astonishingly unfazed by the fact that there was a copy of him staring him directly in his eyes. "What?" The impersonator questioned. "Your father, you said he's still alive." Miles repeated, his voice piquing with interest. "Yeah." The copy replied in a low voice. His face had no remnants of fear, it morphed into confusion instead. "Who are you?" The fake Miles asked, his eyebrows furrowing. He reminded you of your boyfriend in that way.

Your dearly beloved Prowler opened his mask, "I'm Miles Morales. But you, you can call me the Prowler." He said, his accent exposing. Those simple two sentences had more of an effect on you than they should have.

"If I don't go home, our dad is going to die." The fake Miles says with fear in his voice. "Your dad." Miles interjects coldly, lacking sympathy. The hope was slowly fading from the other Miles' face. He shook his head and said, "Please, you have to let me go." with more assertiveness than before. Your boyfriend leaned closer to the fake, "Why would I do that?" he inquired.

Deciding to interrupt their stare-down, you stepped out of the darkness and made yourself known to the fake Miles.

His face lit up with recognition. He whispered your name, "Is that you?"

"First off, how do you know my name?" You questioned, raising a confused brow. This whole situation was starting to creep you out. As you stepped closer to him, both of your spider-senses went off.

"You're like me." You both said in unison.

Your boyfriend was watching this interaction, narrowing his eyes. The fake Miles was only giving your boyfriend more reasons to keep him confined here.

"Look, you've got to help me. In my universe, you were my girlfriend too. Except you weren't Spider-woman. Don't you have a sense of morality? Hasn't anyone told you that with great power comes great responsibility?" The poor guy was practically begging you. You were sure that if he wasn't tied up on a punching bag, he'd be on his knees pleading with you. Which would be a fun sight to watch, you think.

You scoffed at the fake Miles Morales and replied, "You said it wrong. It's, with great ability comes great accountability." Rolling your eyes. This impersonator couldn't even get the quote right.

"That's not-" He cut himself off. "Whatever. You've got to help me, please." The fake Miles pleaded with you. He started to glitch, this universe was taking a toll on him already. As you stared into his eyes, he reminded you of a miserable, dejected puppy. Unbeknownst to you, the less-menacing Miles Morales was only stalling to charge up his venom strike.

Fortunately for him, he didn't need to resort to his venom strike just yet. That would only make this situation harder for him to get out of. He wasn't planning on getting on the bad side of another Spider-person.

"I think we should help him." You broke the silence, turning to your Miles. He was about to argue with you when you continued, "Not only because he's a fellow spider-person, but also because it's harder to resist someone when they look exactly like you, Miles." You grinned, teasing him.

As always, Miles couldn't deny you. He growled to his other self, directing the clone's attention away from you. "You're lucky my girl was here to save you this time, spider. I would've had no issue leaving you here to watch you rot."

As you untied Miles from the punching bag, he mouthed a "Thank you" to you and said,

"Do you guys happen to have a watch that can teleport me back home?" in all seriousness. It was almost comical. "No, but maybe I could help you out." You responded. "I have a good friend, Peter Parker. He's a scientist that specializes in quantum physics, I bet he could help. He works at Alchemax." His eyes seemed to lighten, "You know a Peter Parker?"

On the way to Alchemax, your boyfriend decided the phony version of himself was getting too comfortable with you. He was asking you way too many questions such as,

"How did you become Spider-woman?" The same way you did, Miles.

"How long have you been Spider-woman?" Ever since I got bit by a spider.

"Why are you with the Prowler?" He's not such a bad guy. A few seconds passed and you said, Nevermind. But that's what makes it exciting. You wink at him.

And that's when your lover decided to step in. He interrupted whatever Miles #2 was going on about. "Shut up for once." He snarled at him, towering over his clone. Within a second, your boyfriend had his copy in his grip with his razor-sharp claws in his face, a warning. You noticed sparks flying from the other Miles' fingertips. Why don't I have electric powers? You pondered. Not wanting to witness a homicide today, you pulled your boyfriend away before he could get the chance to slaughter himself. Or at least the morally good version of himself.

Your Miles snaked his arm around your waist possessively. He glared at the other Miles through his screen mask, but you were sure Miles #2 felt his sinister stare. He and you were walking a few paces ahead of his duplicate.

Some days, you weren't sure whether you wanted to kiss him or throttle him during his sleep. Although you couldn't deny that a part of you liked seeing him like this.

“Settle down, babe. He’s not my type.” You reassured him. He almost felt appeased, until he rethought your words. “Not your type? Mami, we look almost identical.” Your Miles said with irritation in his tone. You laughed at his confusion as you shook your head.

Although they were nearly identical in appearance, you noticed clear differences. For instance, your Miles had an intimidating and menacing presence. While the other Miles had more of a "Friendly Neighborhood Spider-man" energy to him.

"No, I mean, he's a little too dorky for me." Your boyfriend seemed to approve of your response, gazing at you. You shivered under his watch.

“I heard that." Miles #2 muttered, following behind you two.

Miles’ gaze was still set on you. He didn’t intend on breaking it any time soon. Although you couldn't exactly see his eyes, you could feel his stare. Nervously glancing the other way, you avoided eye contact. Because you knew that if you looked at him again, you'd pull him in and wouldn't be able to pull away. You felt like you were pinning for him all over again.

You glanced back at him, "Miles, stop staring at me. I might kiss you.” In an instant, his mask was off. He pulled you into a searing kiss, cupping your head with his hands. You reciprocated immediately.

His kiss was demanding and forceful. You could hear the thump of your heart, increasingly becoming louder. It was only a few moments long but felt like forever. He pulled away sooner than you'd liked, leaving you desiring more. “Had to show him that you’re my girl. Sólo mía. Right, princesa?” He stared into your eyes, making your heart pound impossibly faster. You cheekily nodded, the words being lost on your tongue. Miles smirked in satisfaction and closed his mask as you all approached Alchemax.

You strode into Alchemax like it was your second home and looked for Peter's office. Your boyfriend treaded right by your side, while the other Miles strayed behind you like a lost puppy. Which essentially, he was.

Successfully finding Peter's door wide open, you knocked. He looked up from his pile of work. Peter greeted you with a smile, "Come on in. It's great to see you, kid. But, uh, why is the Prowler in my office?" He said to you, his voice barely above a whisper. The Prowler in question was menacingly yet quietly standing in the corner of Peter's office.

Peter looked slightly green, but you consoled him. "Oh, don't mind him. He's my boyfriend." You shrugged. Peter shot you an extremely concerned look, judging your taste in guys, no doubt.

You simply smiled and patted him on the shoulder, "But anyway, Peter. This is Miles, he’s from a different dimension." You pointed at Miles, who stood stiffly next to you.

"We were hoping you could help us create an inter-dimensional teleporter. Or rather, a watch that can jump universes?" You told Peter.

The scientist seemed fascinated by this information about the multiverse. “That's a specific request. Lucky for you guys, I've been working on a prototype. Be wary that it is just a prototype, so there's no guarantee it'll work." Peter said.

"Great! I just have to make sure I get out of here before I either glitch to death or Miguel and his spider-team show up to beat me to death." Miles awkwardly said, scratching the back of his head. His glitching issue was getting worse the more time he spent in your universe.

Spider-team? No one's ever told you about this. If this "Spider-team" really did exist, why weren't you invited? No, you take that back. You could name a couple of reasons why you weren't invited, starting with your boyfriend who was standing next to you in his full Prowler suit. This is what you deserve for not being a Friendly Neighborhood Spider-woman, you sigh.

"Let's hope this works then." Peter says with an unsure tone. He cuffs the watch around Miles' wrist and changes the settings.

Silence falls upon the room as you all observe the watch flash for a moment, and then go dim again. How anti-climactic.

"Oops, sorry guys. Wrong settings." Peter Parker awkwardly laughed and fumbled with the watch again, and then said "Alright, this one should work."

Suddenly appearing to your right is a captivating portal of sorts. It was in the shape of multiple hexagons and had an orange hue. You couldn't take your eyes off of it, you'd never seen something so alluring. Other than your boyfriend, that is. You chuckled at your inner monologue.

Peter was ecstatic, “The other scientists doubted multiversal travel existed, but this is a critical discovery in the history of science!”

Miles, the Spider-Man one, was bewildered. He could finally go home and save his father. “Dude, this is awesome! I can't thank you guys enough. Maybe I'll see you guys again sometime." He smiled, referring to Peter and you.

Miles #2 seemed to be leaning in for a hug when your boyfriend interjected. He stood in front of you and glared at the phony version of himself, "Not too friendly now." he scowled.

“Chill, man! I didn’t mean it like that!" Instead, Miles gives you a two-fingered salute and fist-bumps Peter. "See you around." He finally says, jumping into the portal and wasting no additional time.

The portal closed behind him and you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. Maybe you weren't a morally gray neighborhood spider-woman after all.

Who were you kidding? You're dating a murderous asshole. You must've been guilty by association.

You just hoped that the dorkier version of your boyfriend made it to his universe, and wasn’t sent to a completely different one yet again.

Shaking off the thoughts, you told the scientist, "Thank you, Peter! You were a big help." You hugged Peter and waved him goodbye. "Anytime, kid." He replied. Your prowler followed you out, his hand settling on your waist.

As you returned to Miles' house, you sat on his bed with him and said, "You know, your cooperation has to count for something. Even if you were just brooding the whole time."

"I'm the Prowler. I wasn’t brooding, ma.”

"Whatever you say." You rolled your eyes at him. "Anyway, you didn't kill him, so that's a start. I'm proud of us!" You gleamed at him as you mentally patted yourself on the back.

"You know I love you, ma. But you talk too much." Miles said, pulling you by the waist into his embrace.

You knitted your eyebrows as you replied, "Babe. It runs in every Spider-person. Didn't you hear how-" This time, Miles was the one shutting you up by pressing his lips to yours in a surprisingly soft kiss. His gentle lips moved against yours, and you couldn't help but melt into his touch.

You smiled into the kiss, deepening it. You didn't need words to show him how deep your affection for him lies. If you could, you'd freeze time to forever stay in his hold.

-----------

Dating the public’s enemy number one had to be diminishing your PR. Not that you had one, anyway.

Initially, you worried that your terribly different lifestyles would inevitably lead to the end of your relationship. The Prowler and Spider-woman was an unlikely combination, after all. You snuck out at night to fight crime and restore justice, while he snuck around with his uncle to be a hitman of Kingpin. But you loved him like no one else could.

He invoked emotions in you that you weren't completely familiar with. Your mind was consumed by thoughts of him. You couldn't breathe with him around, nor could you control how fast your heart throbbed. But you would gladly suffocate if he was the one taking your breath away.

And you had a feeling that your sentiment wasn't unrequited.

-----------

hermosa - beautiful

lo siento - i'm sorry

sólo mío - only mine

princesa - princess

[dumbslvtforethan]

∞︎︎ PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE ethan landry

- summary: please please please music video inspired ethan imagine!

warnings fingering, possession, mentions of murder, Imk if i missed anything 722 words

𐙚 mdni!! ↓↓ 𐙚༘⋆ೀೀ

YOU’VE BEEN DATING ETHAN for a while now, you loved him, you loved the way he spoke, his dorky behavior, you loved the ethan you fell in love with. you didn’t even budge when he told you that he was ghostface, perhaps you were just too blind to care about his obsessive side, psychotic even.

you two meet through the friend group, your childhood friend, mindy, had joined blackmore and since then you’d gotten along with tara, quinn and sam. you would always observe ethan from afar, you found it weird, you were weirdly attracted to him, weirdly drawn to his personality and behavior. what you didn’t realize at the time was his manipulation skills, he would do anything to get close to you, to make you want him. “wanna grab a drink?” he whispered in your ear. you two were at a halloween frat party, you were matching costumes, you were an angel and he was a devil, a metaphor you didn’t realize made sense at the time.

you nodded your head and took his hand, leading the way to the kitchen. the party was crowded and an awful alcohol smell filled your nostrils, you were grabbing some vodka and talking to ethan. you didn’t know why but ethan looked behind you in disgust, anger “babe whats wrong” you settled your drink down “ethan?” no answer. you looked behind you to see 2 frat guys chatting “lets go” you grabbed your drink and pulled ethan away from the kitchen “would you stop?” you grabbed ethans chin away from the guy’s gaze after a few minutes of staring “they were saying some gross shit about you” “and why does that matter?” you couldn’t understand “because you’re mine y/n.”

he proceeded to stare them for a second, then was going towards them “stop ethan, please, i beg you don’t embarrass me” you pulled his arm back and pulled him into a kiss, a heated one his anger slipping away to give his body room for a different sort of heat “ill kill them.” you took that as a sick joke, not expecting what you would find the next morning. “two college students found dead in a deserted parking garage” the headline read. when ethan confessed he was ghostface you haven’t really processed that he killed people, not until he killed for you. a few hours later he barged into your dorm, looking bloody and sweaty, his curls sticking to his forehead “what did you do?” you turned to face him “what i said i’d do babe, you’re mine.”

you found it a bit sketchy but you had to play along. “maybe we should stay inside today, have a movie night or something?” you suggested “sure, let me just take a shower first” he chuckled. you were making popcorn while ethan was choosing a movie “can we watch stab please?” he looked at you with doe eyes “again?? can we just watch a rom com or something? why does it always have to be gory and shit?” you took a sit on the couch next to him “because you always jump and end up on my lap” his whisper sent you chills “you know, we don’t have to watch that for me to end up on top of you” you straddled his lap moving slowly “lets go to your room” he leaded you.

he trowed you on the bed and got on top of you, moving your pajama shorts and panties to the side, stroking your folds while still kissing you “you know im the only one who can touch you like this right?” his words were breathless, he sped up his movements, even the thought of some other guy touching you made his blood boil. at the paste he was going it didn’t take long until you reached orgasm. he layed down beside you and you hugged him “your mine, i mean it” he gave you a forehead kiss. i guess you dozed off because when you woke up ethan was nowhere to be seen and the only thing left was a post it on your fridge “left early, had to deal with something, love you, ethan.” you knew him, you weren’t expecting nothing less than a terrifying news article tomorrow morning “i told you to not embarrass me motherfucker” you mumbled

@jchampionsgf on tumblr

a/n: IDK WHY BUT I CANT ATTACH THE REQUEST FOR THIS ONE ON THIS POST BUT HERE IT IS REQUEST

[temporarywelcome]

Turkey - Spencer Reid

Word Count: 2k

Summary: JJ's son, Henry, loves his Uncle Spencer and Spencer's girlfriend, so JJ invites the two over for some holiday crafts.

WARNINGS: some swearing? mostly just fluffyness

A/N: technically a continuation of my little "Smooth Criminal" series though this can 100% be read standalone. If you want to know why Girls' Generation is mentioned, perhaps read "Babysitting", tho you really don't need to

____

Look, she didn’t hate kids.

She just didn’t like them.

Y/N didn’t hate Henry, but she wasn’t exactly a fan either.

Spencer adored the kid to bits, being his godfather, and as Spencer’s girlfriend, Y/N saw Henry quite often. She had won JJ over, another member of the BAU that was able to look past her sketchy past as a kleptomaniac. All that was left was Rossi. 

Winning JJ over wasn’t as easy as Garcia, Morgan, or Prentiss. Hell, Y/N found getting on Hotch’s good side to be easier. She helped with a few cases using her knowledge from her life of thievery, helping them catch a few unsubs. Hotch didn’t mind her.

But with JJ? It took multiple days of babysitting. 

And Y/N didn’t like kids.

But it paid off in the end, she could assume. 

November had just arrived, and Spencer being the holiday fanatic he was, had their shared apartment decked for the season.

This was the most orange she had seen in a while. 

This was their first November living together, so she let him have his fun, just like for October. Being the sucker she was, anything he wanted, she let happen.

But this time it was JJ who had a request for her. Well, both her and Spencer.

Like most days Spencer wasn't out on a case, Y/N had driven off to the FBI building's parking garage, sitting in her usual parking space to pick him up. She was exhausted from her own responsibilities at the theatre, busy at rehearsal for hours. 

She was reviewing her lines, because she always took work home with her, tired and cranky as hell. She already knew Spencer was probably going to be equally tired and cranky as hell, and he was always annoying as fuck when he was, well, tired and cranky as hell. 

Noticing Spencer approaching from the rearview mirror, Y/N grinned. She was already excited to just go home and cuddle in bed with her man. Her smile faded when she saw JJ walking next to him. Not like she had a thing against JJ, she just wanted to be in bed already. 

Spencer slid into his designated seat in the front, but he didn’t close the door, “JJ has a proposition for us,” 

“Does it involve a bubble bath and wine and then my nice warm bed?” Y/N deadpanned. 

JJ, who was standing to the left of Spencer, answered, “Unfortunately no. However, Henry really wanted to do some holiday crafts with his Uncle Spencer this weekend but also wanted you to be there too, Y/N,”

She paused, shocked, “Me? Henry wants to do some holiday crafts with me?”

“Yes, he really likes you,” JJ replied, “And it would mean a lot to Henry and Will and I if you came.” 

“Er,” Y/N scratched the back of her neck awkwardly, “I don’t see why not,”

Spencer’s eyes brightened, “Really?” he expected her to make up some lame excuse not to go, pleasantly surprised now. “Great! I-”

“Alright, g’bye, JJ,” Y/N grumbled, reaching over Spencer and closing his door, “Sorry, I’m exhausted and ready to bite someone’s head off,”

“That someone is going to be me,” Spencer sighed, leaning back in his seat.

“Oh, please, you’re always getting pissy with me when you’re tired-”

“Okay but you get pissy even when you’re not tired-”

“So we’re lying now? Okay, fine-”

“You two have fun,” JJ muttered, leaving them to their bickering. 

It was like that for the whole car ride, which led to Y/N and Spencer grumbling to themselves and dramatically stalking off to separate rooms. Within minutes, they both felt like shit. And so Spencer scurried to run her a bath with those bubbles she wanted, and when he went to get her a glass of wine, he found her in the kitchen, making him a late-night snack. 

They made eye contact, very well aware of what the other was doing. Y/N spoke first.

“You’re so fucking annoying when you’re tired, y’know?”

“So are you.” he shot back with a huff. 

“Yeah, but you let all your crankiness pile up until you’re in my vicinity to let it all out on me,” she explained, still chopping up some fruits as she spoke, “At least I take out all my anger equally onto everyone,” 

“How nice,” he rolled his eyes, “...I ran you a bath,”

“I made you a snack,” she held up a bowl of freshly cut fruits, his favorite kinds. He slowly took it.

“...I love you.”

“Love you too, fucking pain,” she said dryly, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before walking off for her bath, smirking slightly. That was usually how their arguments went. 

___

On Saturday, Y/N and Spencer arrived at JJ’s place at around noon. JJ was the one who answered the door, but before she could even greet them, Henry pushed past her.

“Y/N! Uncle Spencer!” He exclaimed. He was known for being extremely… loud. “You're here!”

“Hey, buddy,” Spencer grins, hugging back as Henry ran at him, “Of course we’re here,”

Once Henry was tired of Spencer’s hug he jumped on Y/N next. She choked, eyes widening before awkwardly patting the kid’s back. It was funny. She was usually the affectionate one and Spencer shied away from physical touch. But with kids, Spencer was always giving them love while Y/N was ready to jump out a window to get away. 

“Guess what, Y/N?!” Henry said in his usual annoyingly loud tone, “I’m going to be in a Thanksgiving play at my school!” 

When Spencer and Y/N had babysat Henry for the first time, Henry was a monster, and Spencer got overstimulated within the first hour. So Y/N had kept Henry distracted with her usual fix of Girls’ Generation and then put him on MTV for a while. Y/N had a career in the arts, and from what JJ has said, it seemed like Henry was becoming interested in it too. 

“Oh, really?” she asked, ruffling his hair, “I did a few when I was in elementary school,”

Henry’s eyes lit up, “REALLY?! I’m just like you!” he then skipped off inside of JJ’s home. Y/N debated running off into the street. 

“He really looks up to you,” JJ grumbled, clearly in a Don’t Mess This Up way. 

“Me? B-But I’ve only seen him a few times,” Y/N scratched the back of her neck, suddenly feeling this responsibility (that she did not even want). 

“Well, you made an impression on him,” JJ replied, “Now come on in. Will just made some lunch,”  At the word lunch, Y/N was off inside the house and Spencer went to follow, JJ stopping him, “Did you two have the talk yet?”

His brows furrowed, “Like sexual education-?”

“No,” she couldn’t help but laugh, “The whole kids thing…”

Oh. That. 

During that one babysitting adventure, Spencer had admitted to his girlfriend he had wanted kids, but didn’t think he would be a good dad. She had assured him, saying she was sure he would be a great dad and even said as a mom she would definitely pull as much of the weight as she could. 

But she doesn’t even want to be a mom.

She only said those things to calm him down.

They had agreed to discuss the whole kids thing after, something they probably should have done before they got serious with each other. But never did. He was terrified, and he was sure she was too. 

So they never did. 

“No,” he looked down, fiddling with his fingers, “We have not,” 

JJ sighed, “Reid.” Here we go. “You two have to talk about this.” 

“I know,”

“Then why haven’t you?”

“I just…” he shrugged, still not making eye contact, “I don’t want to lose her,”

“Spencer, if you guys have different wants, no matter what happens, you’re going to end up resenting each other,” 

She was right, and he knew that. He knew that if they didn’t have any kids he would probably start to resent Y/N, and if they did have kids, Y/N would probably start to resent him and the children, which he wouldn’t be able to bear. 

But he won’t be able to bear losing her either. 

“I know, I know… I’ll talk to her about it, promise,” 

“No you won’t,” JJ shook her head with a sigh, and with that, she let him in.

____

“I can feel you lookin’ at me, I know what you see. Any closer and you feel the heat,” Y/N and Henry were singing obnoxiously as they cut up little turkey body parts for a little arts and crafts project, sitting together at the kid's table.  

Spencer, JJ, and Will were seated at the “adult” table, occasionally giving each other glances as they watched the scene unfold before them. The way both Y/N and Henry looked equally concentrated on their turkeys as they cut the paper, brows furrowed with tongues sticking out in determination. 

“For someone who doesn’t like kids,” JJ mused, “She’s good with them,”

“Yeah, because she’s like one,” Spencer scoffed, sipping at his coffee, “That’s like her third turkey,” 

“He still hasn’t had the ‘kids’ talk with her yet,” JJ told Will, who tutted in disappointment. 

“Do you gossip about me?” Spencer’s mouth dropped. 

“A bit,” 

“Wow,” 

“To be fair, it was Garcia who told him about it,”

Spencer rolled his eyes with a soft chuckle, “Of course it was her. She blows up everything in my relationship,”

“She does it with love,”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah-”

“GIRLS GENERATION MAKE YOU FEEL THE HEAT-”

“-I hope it works out,” Will said, always the earnest one (also ignoring the practical karaoke in the living room), “I feel she’s good for you-”

“-AND WE’RE DOIN’ IT, WE CAN’T BE BEAT-”

“-Yeah, you need some fun in your life-,” JJ agreed with a grin. 

“-B-BRING THE BOYS OUT-”

“-Sometimes it makes me want to scoop my brain out of my skull via my nostrils,” Spencer grumbled, wincing at the loud yell-singing, “I have to deal with this pretty much every day-”

“-WE’RE BORN TO WIN, BETTER TELL ALL-” The singing suddenly stopped, and a child plus an overgrown child scampered on over, showing off their turkeys. 

“Look, Mommy!” Henry shoved one into JJ’s face, “It’s you!”

JJ surveyed the turkey with the colored in blonde hair with a smile, “Aw, it’s beautiful-” she paused, “...why does it look angry?”

“You get angry a lot,”

Will immediately covered his mouth to stifle a laugh. 

“And I did you too, Daddy!” Henry handed Will his turkey.

“Why is his smiling?” JJ grumbled before laughing softly, petting her son’s hair. 

“Because he smiles a lot,” Ah, kids with their zero filter. 

“Look,” Y/N slapped down her turkey onto the table in front of Spencer, eyes bright like the overgrown child she was. 

Spencer looked down at the turkey and grinned, already knowing exactly who it was.

“It’s you, pretty boy,” she said proudly, doing jazz hands like the theatre freak she was. 

The turkey was definitely him, with a silly hairstyle colored in and some glasses, accompanied by a sweater vest. 

“Why does my turkey have no pants on?” he asked like some art critic.

“Because it’s a turkey, I bet pants would be uncomfortable.”

“But glasses wouldn’t be?”

“The turkey won’t be able to see without glasses!” 

He laughed, looking down at the turkey again. He complained a lot, he was well aware of it, however, there was nothing in this world that could make him dislike the woman in front of him. 

And so he pulled her down, not bothering to stand, planting a kiss to her lips. 

“EWWWWW!” Henry gasped, covering his eyes, “What are you DOING?!”

When Spencer pulled his lips away, Y/N smirked, “You should totally make a turkey of me now,”

___

song is "The Boys" by Girls' Generation

[littleredwing89]

FAMOUS [PART THREE]

Bodyguard!Jason Todd x Singer!Reader

Summary: There was something about the way the dim light softened his features, made his usual tough-guy exterior seem more approachable.

Warnings: None really. Building tension between you & Jason.

A/N: So here is a very-very-VERY long overdue part 3 - Wooo!! 💛💛 if it makes you all feel better - I have completely written this story (40k words approx) so I’ll just post 1 or 2 chapters a week for you. I’m sorry this took so long my loves 😘😘 - sending all my love & please enjoy the next chapter - I really hope it was worth the wait.

Elle xoxo ❤️❤️❤️

———

HARDER THAN NECESSARY

———

***

The apartment was eerily quiet, the soft hum of the city beyond the window the only sound filling the space. You tiptoed across the hardwood floors, your oversized college sweater hanging loosely on your frame, hoping to make it to the door without disturbing the brick wall of a man currently asleep down the hall.

Just as your fingers brushed the doorknob, a loud click echoed through the room.

“Freeze,” Jason’s deep, gravelly voice commanded, his gun trained on you in an instant. His eyes were sharp, scanning you for a threat before recognition dawned on his face.

“Holy shit,” you gasped, raising your hands slowly. “Slow down, cowboy.”

Jason cursed under his breath, quickly holstering the gun. “Shit. Why are you sneaking around your own house?”

“Because!” you snapped, not wanting to admit why you were really sneaking out. The idea of telling him you were trying to repay him for the burger and chips he got you last week was… embarrassing, to say the least. “I am… I just…”

Jason rolled his eyes. “Why are you dressed sketchy?”

“It’s comfy, sue me,” you huffed, tugging at the hem of the oversized sweater.

“Don’t tempt me,” Jason muttered, crossing his arms and planting himself between you and the door like the human wall he was.

“Look, just go back to bed,” you sighed, trying to push past him. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

But Jason didn’t budge. “You’re not going out.”

“Yes, I am,” you shot back, frustration bubbling up. “Alone.”

Jason’s expression darkened, his body language shifting from casual to protective in an instant. “No—I’m going with you. Let me just get a jacket.” He reached for his brown leather jacket draped over the kitchen barstool.

“No!!” you blurted, panic rising in your chest. You hadn’t planned for him to come along. “I’ll be fine! I do this all the time on my own! I really don’t need an escort.”

Jason’s eyes narrowed as he grumbled, “This is why Mr. Sionis hired me. You can’t do this shit alone anymore—it isn’t safe.”

“Roman’s an overprotective idiot,” you muttered, arms crossed over your chest. “He doesn’t know the half of what I do.”

Jason sighed, clearly losing patience. “We either go together, or you don’t go at all.”

You looked down at the floor, knowing you were defeated. All you wanted was to repay Jason’s kindness from before, but now it felt like the universe was against you. Keeping your emotions in check, you let out a long breath. “I’m not used to this…” you muttered.

Jason softened just a little, sensing your frustration. “Let me go with you. I’ll pay. If we pretend it’s a date, people are less likely to even recognise you.”

Your face flushed pink at his suggestion. “What?!”

Jason fumbled, his own face heating up. “Just—just pretend! Look, I’m here to stay, okay? Mr. Sionis wants you safe, so we should probably get to know each other better. I mean, I am living in your box room down the hall.”

You shot him a look. “It’s not a box room—I gave you a room with a nice view of Gotham.”

Jason smirked, clearly amused. “You’re deflecting.”

With a dramatic sigh, you threw your hands up. “Fine. But I’m driving.”

Jason tossed you his keys, surprising you. “Don’t scratch it. I just got it fixed up.”

You smirked, twirling the keys in your hand. “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt your baby.”

Jason’s face flushed slightly as he looked away. “You better not, or you’ll be paying for her next paint job.”

You grinned mischievously. “Her? Does she have a name, tough guy?”.

Jason ignored your teasing, shrugging on his jacket. “Come on—I thought you were hungry.”

Stifling a laugh, you headed out the door, calling back over your shoulder, “Yes, sir.”

Jason bit back the smile threatening to spread across his face, trying to ignore the way that “sir” made his stomach twist in a way it definitely shouldn’t.

——

The diner was quiet, the low hum of neon lights flickering above as you and Jason sat across from each other in one of the old booths. When the food arrived, Jason reached for his wallet, but before he could pull it out, you quickly slipped your card over the machine with a smug smile.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Jason grumbled, clearly caught off guard.

“I know,” you replied, giving him a teasing smile. “But it’s nice to repay the favor, y’know?”

Jason gave you a rare, small smile. “Thanks.”

You nodded, a little flutter of satisfaction warming your chest. “However, if I’d known that, I would’ve ordered more,” Jason teased, leaning back in his seat.

You rolled your eyes, playfully scoffing. “Jerk.”

“Eh, sue me.”

You tried to focus on your food, but your eyes kept drifting back to Jason as he casually leaned back in his leather jacket, looking more relaxed than you’d ever seen him. There was something about the way the dim light softened his features, made his usual tough-guy exterior seem more approachable.

Jason noticed you staring and raised an eyebrow. “What? Is there something on my face?” He wiped at his chin, checking for stray ketchup.

Flushing red, you shook your head quickly. “No! No… sorry, I just zoned out. I was thinking about a new song I’m working on.”

Jason smiled, the edges of his lips tugging upward. “Yeah, I heard some of it last night. Or, well, early this morning.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh shit, sorry—I didn’t realise the noise carried that far down the hall.”

Jason shrugged, his smile still lingering. “It’s not a complaint. It sounded great.”

You were about to say something in return, something sweet and appreciative, but Jason—being Jason—slurped his drink loudly through the straw, completely killing the mood. You furrowed your brow, muttering, “Mood kill.”

Jason looked at you, confused. “What?”

“Nothing,” you said with a sigh, glancing at the clock. “We should probably head back.”

——

The drive back to the apartment was quieter than usual, but not uncomfortable. Jason had his elbow resting on the car door, his other hand draped casually on his thigh, looking out at the city lights. You glanced at him every now and then, trying to shake the lingering thoughts of how natural it felt having him beside you.

As you stopped at a red light, you couldn’t help but ask, “So, you really heard me working on the song last night?”

Jason nodded, glancing over at you. “Yeah. You’re good. Like… really good. You’re not just some pretty face in a band.”

You felt your face heat up. “Thanks, but you don’t have to say that just because you’re protecting me.”

“I’m not,” he said, his tone more serious than you expected. “I mean it. You’ve got talent. Don’t let Roman’s overprotectiveness make you forget that.”

The compliment caught you off guard. Jason wasn’t the type to throw praise around carelessly, and hearing it from him made it feel different. More genuine. You smiled, turning back to the road as the light turned green. “That means a lot coming from you.”

Jason shifted slightly, as if uncomfortable with the sentimentality. “Yeah, well… don’t get used to it. I’ve got a tough reputation to keep.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, the sound filling the car. “Sure, big guy. I’ll keep your secret.”

The rest of the drive passed quickly, and soon enough, you were pulling into the underground parking lot of your building. You killed the engine and sat there for a moment, neither of you moving to get out.

Jason was the first to break the silence, clearing his throat. “You really didn’t need to sneak out earlier, y’know. I get that you like your independence, but… I’m here to help. You don’t have to do everything on your own.”

Your hand hesitated on the car door handle, his words sinking in. He wasn’t just talking about tonight. He was talking about more than that—about your habit of handling things solo, even when it wasn’t safe. You bit your lip, looking down at your hands. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate the help… It’s just hard to adjust to having someone around all the time. I’m used to taking care of myself.”

Jason watched you carefully, his voice softer than before. “I get it. But you don’t have to anymore. Not with me.”

You glanced over at him, meeting his steady gaze. The sincerity in his eyes made your heart skip a beat. It was as if he wasn’t just saying it because it was his job—he meant it, and that scared you a little.

“Thanks, Jason,” you said quietly, feeling the weight of his words.

He gave a small nod, reaching for the door handle. “Come on, let’s get inside before Roman tracks us down.”

As you both stepped out of the car and made your way toward the elevator, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between you. It wasn’t just the professional relationship anymore. It was different…in a good way.

When you reached your apartment, you turned to face Jason before unlocking the door. “Hey,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “Thanks for tonight… and for everything.”

Jason gave you a half-smile, his eyes softening just slightly. “Anytime, princess.”

***

[nikkeora]

High Enough (Without the Mary Jane)

summary; 'in every other universe, gwen stacy falls for spider-man. and in every other universe, it doesn’t end well'. you don't want to be a mary jane anymore.

or, in which you were the mindy s. mcpherson to miles's prowler

pairing(s); e-1610! Miles Morales x fem!reader, e-42! Miles Morales x fem!reader (r is referred to with she/her pronouns, no physical description.)

warning(s); fem spanish terms are used ('hermosa' etc.), reader’s hand is smaller than Miles’. author can’t write action sequences for shit.

may be ooc but we haven't seen a whole lot of p!miles yet so there isn’t really much to go off of

implied/mentioned parental issues with reader, not proofread, written (mostly) at ao3 hours

a/n; according to google the sinister 6 of e42 are doc oc, vulture, electro, rhino, sandman and scorpion, although i've seen some other ppl say that the eastereggs are vulture, rhino, scorpion, sandman, shocker, kraven and electro. i'm going w the google one, maybe kraven and shocker are their own thing. also they're prolly rich aholes since their signs are on buildings n stuff, so that's what i went with.

also reader was sent to earth 42, but like, a few days before 1610 miles arrives, kind of like how gwen was sent to 1610 a week before she found miles

Miles — or, who you assumed was Miles, anyway — took you back to his place, going out of his way to avoid alleys where there weren't many people around and sticking to the bigger streets. You found it kind of weird. Back home, you and Miles used to cut through backstreets and even some sketchy buildings all the time to make it home before curfew.

You felt him steal glances at you the whole walk, and you’d be lying if you didn’t do the same.

This version of him just felt so.. different.

Once the two of you reached your destination, he let you up the stairs first before quietly calling for you to stop once you reached his floor. You hesitated for a moment on the steps. It was a higher level than Miles’s flat back home, and the building had looked a lot different from what you’d seen just half an hour ago, even if it still felt familiar. You’d chalked it up to the multiverse doing multiverse things at first, but he was starting to act a little off.

Having been around your Miles for years, you knew all his tells. You could see how his weight shifted on his feet as he unlocked the door. You could see he was overall standing straighter and more tense. You could see the hesitation before he turned the key.

Miles was lying to you. And he felt guilty.

But what were you going to do?

This universe was new to you. Sure, everything seemed just about the same, but it was all so foreign at the same time. There where skyscrapers you’d never seen before, new graffiti on the streets of the same couple people over and over again - all of whom you were sure you’d seen somewhere before but couldn’t quite grasp where. The sight of buildings blocked by yellow tape and more in the process of repair after seemingly being burned down or blown up were common in this world, like it was an active war zone or something.

You really didn’t have a choice but to follow along.

He opened the door and waved you in, closing the door rather hastily after the both of you.

You took a glance around the room. There were metal bars on the windows, to keep people out or trap them in you couldn't quite figure. There was a DJ setup near them that looked awfully familiar. Hooks hung down from the unfinished ceiling, some holding chains and others oddly shaped items haphazardly wrapped with what looked like brown lunchbag paper. Wires and ventilation just about everywhere, most of the wires leading to either monitors or gadgets you assumed were in the progress of being built. An old, beat up couch and some gym gear by the wall, an open kitchen-slash-workshop area straight ahead.

The only source of light was the neon red from the signs outside the window, and even then the farther bits of the apartment remained a dark purple hue.

Then someone came out of the other room.

“What's this?”

The hell—?

From the shadows, Aaron Davis emerged.

His beard was more grown out then you'd ever seen, and his features looked sharper, almost rougher. His shoulders seemed more broad, though maybe that was the heavy jacket he wore making him look bigger than he actually was.

“¿Tío?”

Miles had taken you around to his uncle's a couple of times, which you now realized was why you recognized this place. Aaron raised an eyebrow at you, surprise flashing across his face before it was quickly wiped out. He looked over you, taling in your appearance.

“Miles.” He asked again.

“I dunno,” the boy replied, stuffing his hands deeper into his pockets and avoiding his uncle's gaze. “Just found her on the way home.”

“Found her?”

Aaron glanced at you, then back to Miles, then back to you, his eyebrows furrowed in either confusion or frustration. He finally looked back at his nephew, the two of them having a silent conversation you couldn’t read.

“…Fine.” Aaron sighed, turning around—

You felt like you were dying, or being born, or possibly both at the same time. For a split second, you were nothing but particles, your skin and bones and just about everything being ripped apart then sewn back together. Your vision was a mix between TV static and rapid fire neon colors, and it was about the same deal with your hearing (which was concerning, since you couldn't usually hear colors).

Miles had taken a step forward, letting you grab his arms to keep you from falling over as he said something you couldn’t quite hear. Aaron had whipped around so fast you wondered how it didn’t give him whiplash, fists at the ready in case he needed them.

“What was that?” Miles’s voice finally got through to you, the high-pitched screaming in your ears dying down. You blinked at him as your mind went blank.

“I don’t—” You cut yourself off. Wait, was it..? Had you just..?

“Complete cellular decay.” You recalled Miles’s countless retellings of the multiversal mess that had happened just about two years ago. “I’m glitching, aren’t I?”

“Right, and you know this because..?” Aaron asked, his hands now at his sides but not eased yet. He eyed your face as if he was expecting you to grow a third eye or something. Honestly, you couldn’t blame him.

“Okay, so, this might sound crazy,” You started, “but I’m from another dimension.

“We had something like this happen back home a while back — except, y’know, people came into our dimension rather than people from ours going somewhere else.

“The people that came, they were glitching, too. Their atoms were displaced and decaying.”

“So you’re saying,” Miles spoke up, his grip tightening around your forearms just slightly. “If you stay here too long—”

“I’ll die, yeah.” You said, the reality of the situation hitting you like a KTX. “Disintegrate, to be more accurate.”

Silence filled the flat as all three of you processed the information. Miles was frozen, his gaze fixated on the spot where your hands grabbed onto him as if he was scared you’d disappear if he looked away. Aaron crossed his arms, his eyes darting from left to right like he was reading some invisible text.

As for you, you felt unreal. Your body didn’t feel like your own anymore, your vision more like looking at the screen of a first-person shooter. Were you going to die here? You didn’t want to die yet. What would your dad think? Would he file a police report? Would Miles’s dad send out a search party to look for you? And Miles—

You hadn’t even said goodbye to him at the party.

You hadn’t said goodbye to anyone.

I don’t wanna die I don’t wanna die I don’t wanna die I don’t—

“Hey,” Miles says, his voice softer than earlier, snapping you out of your spiral. His hands slide down your forearms and slip into your own, giving them a firm squeeze. “No vas a morir.”

You’re not gonna die.

“Te llevaré a casa.” The boy said, his deep brown eyes bore into yours, slowly bringing you back from feeling like you’re looking at a video game to feeling more like you’re lucid dreaming. It wasn’t a total fix, but it’s a start. “I’ll get you home, I promise.”

You took a deep breath, trying and failing to ground yourself more.

“What’s five things you hear?” Miles asked gently, tilting his head and leaning ever so slightly closer to you. You just blinked, overwhelmed with everything.

“Mi vida,” he said again. “Five things.”

You paused for a moment.

Sirens outside.

Yelling from the streets.

Chains clinking in the breeze from the open window.

Aaron shuffling around in the other room. When had he left?

The buzzing of the lights overhead.

“Good.” Miles said encouragingly. “Now, four things you see.”

Miles.

A pan on the kitchen stove.

The DJ table by the windows.

Tio Aaron pulling out the couch to make a sofa bed.

“Three things you can touch here.”

Miles.

The ground if you bent down, you guessed.

Some trinkets on the table just over there, but you’re not gonna touch that.

“Two you can smell?”

Rusted metal. There’s tons of it around; on the walls, the ceiling, tables, even on the shelves. What was that chest plate doing back there, anyway?

That pool smell, which is kinda gross since it came from the chlorine in pool water mixed with all the gross stuff that came from human bodies.

Miles smiled as you said that. “Vuelves a mí, mi sol.” He squeezed your hands again. “One thing you can taste.”

“I dunno, soda? We had a ton of it at the party.” You wiggled your fingers. It was like you were stepping into your body for the first time — nothing was a perfect fit just yet, like a pair of knitted gloves with too much room at the ends of the fingers. You’d have to get used to it again.

It’s then that Aaron called Miles over, the boy reluctantly leaving your side and following his uncle to the other room. He told you to make yourself comfortable on the couch before he went, though, so that’s exactly what you did. The spring cushions feel oddly comforting under you, the familiarity of home twisted just slightly out of proportion.

There’s really nothing to do alone here. You tapped your fingers on your leg. Thankfully, Miles and Aaron came back after just a few minutes.

The first thing the boy said to you, “I’m gonna get you home.” A firmer, more certain repetition of his promise from a minute ago, albeit there’s a bit of a strain in his voice as if it physically hurt him to say it. In a clumsy yet swift motion, he quickly leaned down and kissed your cheek before making his exit rather hurriedly.

You felt the heat rush to your face, your hand coming up almost immediately to touch the spot.

Aaron chuckled and shook his head.

“So,” he said. “You as smart as she was, too?”

-

You tinkered with the gauntlet of a prototype suit that Aaron had dug out of storage somewhere, the man himself working on the main body. The helmet — or was it more of a mask? It was a bit bulkier than Miles's Spider-Man mask, a bit more tech-y. Probably more similar to an Iron Man helmet, now that you think about it, albeit lower in its level of advancement — was plugged into one of the many monitors strewn about the flat.

You'd managed to pry a couple bits of information out of him for the past few hours (during which you hadn't glitched again, thankfully) in exchange for some of your own. So far you knew that this universe’s Jefferson Morales had passed away a few years ago, prompting Miles to take on the mantle of the Prowler to avenge his father’s death — the details of which he stayed frustratingly vague on — and, later on, to keep the city as safe as he could.

“Wait, wait, who’s your Spider-Man, then?”

“Who’s Spider-Man?”

You blinked in confusion. “What? You don’t have a Spider-Person?”

“What, like, a part-spider guy? Nah. Scorpion’s mostly bug though, that count?”

This dimension didn’t have a Spider-Man. That was why the city was so overrun with bad guys.

You gave him a general rundown of the whole ‘radioactive spider’ thing and moved on.

Your own variant, who was Miles’s best friend and had helped make a lot of his gear, had disappeared a while after the Prowler started taking out some bad guys that were a step above villain-of-the-week, the ones who had all sorts of shady connections. Hearing about your presumed death was a strange experience.

“We know they took her,” The older man had said, jamming his screwdriver into a faulty part of the suit. “But the cops are all in on it ever since the Cartel bought ‘em out. Declared her dead after less than 24 hours.”

Oh, speaking of, apparently there was a team of villains bringing Gotham to life in New York, Brooklyn being the heart of it all. How fun.

The Sinister Six Cartel, as the Bugel had dubbed them, was the one Aaron and Miles believed to be behind your variant’s disappearance. The two were certain that the Cartel had worked out a connection between you and the Prowler. The nail on the coffin was when they sent a body double of you in the Prowler’s direction to mess with his head just a couple months ago, complete with some sort of Face Off style mask that made it possible for the fake to look exactly like you. It was only a day or two before Miles figured out it was a setup, but it had shaken him up pretty bad.

“I thought you were another one.” He’d admitted. “But then you did the whole glitchy thing. Looked horrible, by the way, real nasty. It hurt much?”

“You have no idea.”

In return, you told him about home. You told him how Miles’s dad was up for a promotion, practically Captain already. You told him about your Miles’s art and how he made a mural of him after his death. You didn’t go into too much detail about the ‘death’ part, focusing more on the peaceful aspects since it was so clearly missing from his every day life. You couldn’t really read this Aaron Davis that well since he was more guarded than he had been back home, but you could tell he appreciated it; especially the parts about his brother.

You also told him how Miles and the other Spider-People who were sent to your dimension had worked out a solution to fix their situation, and gave him a brief summary of the whole ordeal, the details of which he texted Miles since he hadn’t given you a chance to tell him about it when he left so hastily. He said something you couldn’t quite make out as he did — you caught the words ‘lab’ and ‘property’, but that was pretty much it. He only waved it off as nothing when you asked him about it.

“How’s my dad?” You asked, pushing your hand into the gauntlet to test if it worked right. It was a near perfect fit, which made you wonder who exactly it was for, since Miles’s hand was bigger than yours. “Is he doing okay? After the whole ‘declared dead’ thing?”

“He’s holding up, just like the rest of us,” Aaron replied, checking on the monitor. “Your mom — her mom’s been sticking around. Grief brings people together and all that. They’re trying therapy.”

A weird feeling bubbled up inside. While it was good to know at least one version of your parents were trying to reconcile, it bothered you that your absence had prompted it. Was that what was happening right now back home? Had your disappearance magically brought your parents back together? Had it even been long enough for that to happen, or did time flow equally throughout the multiverse?

…

Would it be better for them if you just didn’t go back at all?

“Oh.” You said, nodding slightly as you flexed and wiggled your fingers in the gauntlet, watching the way it moved. It was a lot thinner than the claws that adorned the Prowler’s hands from what you’d spotted here and there in the flat, built to be stealthier in the way it functioned. There were no clunks or clinks, just soft whirring noises that sounded almost like a cat’s purr. “That’s good, I guess.”

It was worse this time around, which you didn’t even know was possible. You felt yourself being split in a billion different directions, parts of you re-atomizing not quite in the right places. You’d never known the feeling of having space between where all your joints were supposed to connect, but now you did, and it honestly made you want to die. Not really. Well…

-

Miles came back sometime before dawn. You heard the door opening slowly, almost like he was trying not to wake his parents up as he was sneaking in past curfew. Not that he used the door ever since he could climb walls, but still.

He crept into his uncle’s flat, even leaving his shoes at the door so he wouldn’t make too much noise. He was making his way to the other room when he looked at you on the couch, only to flinch in surprise when he saw your eyes were open.

“¿Qué haces despierto?” He whispered, his shoulders tenser than earlier from the split second of adrenaline. “It’s late.”

“What are you doing that you have to sneak in?” You whispered back. The boy just shrugged.

“Oh, you know…” He trailed off, looking around to avoid your questioning gaze. “…Stuff.”

You rolled your eyes. “That has gotta be the lamest excuse I’ve ever heard.”

Miles huffed, shuffling over to you and sitting down on the floor in front of the couch, facing you. “Yeah, well, I asked you first. Why’re you up, hermosa?”

You sighed. “Can’t sleep.”

“Why not?”

“Oh, I don’t know, the thought of my impending doom, maybe.”

A couple beats passed by without a word from either of you, a bit of awkwardness hanging in the air, though it was accompanied by a familiar sense of comfort.

“Do you trust me?” Miles asked, his hand reaching out to gently grab a corner of the blanket draped over you.

“Probably.” You replied. You hadn’t known him long enough to trust him just yet, as much as you wanted to. The corners of his lips tilted up just a bit in an almost smile.

“Then trust that I’ll do whatever it takes to get you home.” He said. “I already lost you once, I’m not letting that happen again.”

-

The next day was pretty uneventful. For the most part, anyway, if you don’t count the random glitching throughout. You were advised heavily against going outside since the Cartel had eyes everywhere, so your area of activity was limited to the flat. Miles had evidently snuck back out after your little talk the night before, which made you feel a tinge disappointed since you wanted to get to know him better. Fortunately, Aaron said you could help with the suit again.

The TV played in the background as you tapped on the keyboard, giving the helmet a few final touch-ups as the sun set outside the window. J. Jonah Jameson jabbered on about this week’s biggest disasters and lamented about how ‘if only there was a hero to save this city’, which made you snort.

“He’s gonna switch up real quick if a hero does show up,” You remarked to Aaron, who looked at you questioningly. “The guy hates Spider-Man back home.”

“What, Jameson?” He said, raising an eyebrow. “Nah, he’s the biggest Captain America fanboy out there. Loves heroes an’ all that.”

He thought for a moment. “Pretty sure Miles saw him at Comicon that one time too.”

“What’s a Comicon?”

Unfortunately, you never got the answer as you heard the lock on the door slide open. You spun around in your chair to greet Miles as you knew he was supposed to be coming by sometime in the evening, but your friendly smile quickly faded as his expression turned to one of shock, catching a glimpse of what the two of you were working on.

The boy froze as he stared, wide-eyed, at the suit. “Tio,” He said, looking at Aaron as he clenched his jaw. “What’s that doing out?”

“She needs a suit.” The older man answered simply.

“What?” Both you and Miles asked, though you could tell it was for vastly different reasons.

“We need to get into Alchemax to get her home, and we can’t do that unless she has protection.”

“Which is why I came here to make a plan!” Miles shouted, his hands moving animatedly, the way your Miles's always did when he got upset. “Eso, eso no le pertenece. ¡No es para ella!”

They had a back and forth as the pieces came together as to why Miles was so upset.

The suit was supposed to be for you.

His you.

You were, essentially, fixing up a dead girl's clothes to wear.

“The Cartel isn't stupid, Miles,” Aaron tried to make the boy see his point. “Even if we somehow made a distraction big enough for the big ones to leave base, there's still gonna be someone left to guard it. Would you be able to live with yourself if she got hurt? Or worse—”

“Don't.” Miles's nails dug into his palms, leaving dark cresent moons in their wake. Aaron sighed.

“If she got hurt, you'd feel like that's on you. If you got hurt protecting her 'cause she doesn't have anything to protect herelf with, then I'd feel like that's on me.” He said, his features softening as he reasoned with his nephew. “This is the best bet.”

“We could build her a new suit—”

“And take what? Couple days? A week? Two weeks?”

He glanced at you, Miles following his gaze towards you as well. You knew what was implied. The only people you knew this happened to had gone maybe over a week before the glitching became a real problem, and they were superhuman. Who knew how long you had?

“She can wear mine. We have a ton of old ones, I'll just take one of those—”

“I'm not gonna let you get hurt for her, kid.”

“Don't call me that.”

They went back and forth for a while, and eventually Miles went to the other room to cool off and think things through. Aaron sighed, wiping a hand across his face.

“No offense.” He said to you.

“None taken.” You replied, not really knowing what to do. It felt wrong for you to be tinkering with something that was so clearly not meant for you, even if it was for a variant of yourself.

You could hear Miles pacing the other room, muttering to himself.

“Maybe I could...” You trailed off.

“You could try talking him into it,” He suggested. “He'll listen to you more than me right now.”

“...Should I, though?” You couldn't even begin to imagine what Miles was feeling. All this multiverse shit was too damn complicated.

“Look, kid, I know it's weird.” Aaron said, shoulders sagging just a bit. “But this—” he pointed to the suit— “is the best way to make sure no one gets hurt. Trust me.”

There was something he wasn't telling you, but he didn't have to for you to know what it was. Miles thought you were alive, somewhere out there. You knew it was entirely possible that he blamed himself for your disappearance, as it was your own version of him's go-to for anything and everything that went wrong. The shadows under his eyes, that look whenever he saw you... you wondered how many nights he'd spent outside, looking for some trace of you, a new lead to follow. Especially since your arrival.

Aaron thought this was the best chance Miles would ever get to let go of you. To get some sort of closure by sending you home.

“…I'll try.” You finally agreed, getting up from your seat and shuffling to the other room. You hesitated before going in, but the lack of a door made it awkward to linger, so you just bit the bullet and walked inside.

The room in question was more of a faux-veranda (which explained the no-door thing); a long, narrow space separated from the main living area by a sheet of drywall, with one of the wider walls filled with shelves of CDs and albums and the other decorated sparingly with old band and movie posters along with Miles-brand stickers.

“So...” You said, fiddling with your hands as you took a look around the area. You gestured at one of the stickers on the wall. “Did you make that?”

Slowing to a stop to face you, Miles nodded, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket.

“Cool.”

You both stood there in silence for a moment, you working out what to say and Miles trying to come up with some other solution to the problem. The boy had an unhealthy obsession, that much he knew, but he just couldn't bring himself to let go of it. Not when you could be out there, just waiting for him to find you.

“I don't want to push you,” You started hesitantly. “But.. I think your tìo may be right.”

“I know that.” He looked at his feet as if the dirt on his shoes was suddenly the most interesting thing in the world, the sight of him reminisent of a little kid getting scolded by his mother. “I know that.”

“I can't say I understand.. whatever's going through your head right now,” You said, taking a step towards him. “But he just wants what's best for you.”

“What's best for me is finding—” He cut himself off when his eyes met yours, frustration and confusion and stubbornness and sadness and who knows what else all mixing into a big mish-mash of conflicting thoughts inside of him. He clenched his fists, tilting his head up as he tried to think clearly. To his dismay, his throat closed up, the familiar sting of tears pricking at his eyes.

“I need to find her.” He muttered, putting a hand over his eyes in an attempt to stop his tears from falling. It didn't work. “I need to find you.”

“And you will.” You were sure of it. Aaron and Miles were both so sure that their you was alive... she had to be. “But right now? Right now, I need you to help me out.”

He looked at you, his gaze almost spaced out for a moment. You wondered if he saw her in you — if she had the same haircut, the same eyes, the same accent...

You could tell he was frustrated by the way that the scrunch above his nose wouldn’t go away. Hesitantly, you reached out, wiping away the tracks stray tears had left on his cheeks. He stiffened for a moment.

“...Fine.” He finally muttered, a hand coming up to grab your arm, though he seemed unsure if he wanted to push it away or pull it closer. So he just held it in place, his thumb brushing over the inside of your wrist, the edge of your palm. His posture relaxed, just a bit. “Okay.”

-

Two days later, it wasn't too dark when the plan set into action.

Security at Alchemax — once belonging to Kingpin, now in posession of the Sinister Six Cartel — was thinnest sometime around six to seven pm, when dinner breaks, shift changes and the checkout of regular scientists were prominent.

Miles and Aaron had each set up time bombs at multiple smaller warehouses the Cartel used for storage, each coordinated to go off within minutes of each other. With little to no heroes or police in the way, the Cartel had no reason to keep their lesser important stocks well-guarded, which made it easy to sneak explosives into some of the shipments, support beams and pipes.

Once the explosions were set off, Aaron would use some rip-off Mysterio tech to make projections of some new vigilante gang, with each fake member leading the forces of the Cartel away from Alchemax. During this went on, Miles would sneak you in and to the Super Collider (which, surprisingly, had not been scrapped since its change of ownership) through the vents—

“Wait, wait, isn’t there like, a tunnel that can get us directly to the Collider?” You’d asked, remembering what Miles had told you when he first told you how he became Spider-Man.

“It got sealed off.” Aaron had said. “Some sort of supercharged electromagnetic thing. They did that with all the major underground entry points. Can’t shut it off without blacking out half of Brooklyn.”

“Or getting fried.” Miles had said. “The generators powering each point are all hooked up together a single system, como una mente colmena. You attack one of ‘em directly, all the others shoot a billion bolts of energy into you. And we don’t have time to hack into and get past the firewall to shut the thing down.”

—which you would navigate by memorizing a blueprint of Alchemax that had been conveniently leaked in a mass Cartel server leak a couple months ago. Miles would then plug in the goober he, Aaron and you had made using information gathered via Aaron's 'friends', and send you home.

It was a simple mission. Maybe a bit too simple, but you didn't really have much a choice when you were on a time crunch with limited information. Besides, Occam's razor.

“Copy?” Aaron's voice asked from your earpiece.

“Copy.” You answered, followed by Miles from his own communicator.

“A-6 is a go in 3.. 2...”

Boom.

A couple blocks away, a cloud of dust shot into the air. The building you and Miles were on the roof of shivered slightly as storage unit A-6 blew up.

“A-27.”

Boom.

“C-15.”

Boom.

From your vantage point, you had a clear view of what was going on at Alchemax without the risk of anyone down there catching a glimpse of you. You could see the non-combat scientists scrambling to get to their cars and the armed guards being led by weirdly dressed villains in the direction of the explosions. Although you supposed you weren't quite qualified to comment on the 'weirdly dressed' part at the moment, since you and Miles weren't much better in your respective suits.

Speaking of, Miles hadn't talked much ever since he first saw you wearing the suit. His responses were short if he even gave one, although you could feel him sneaking glances at you when he thought you weren't looking.

Miles fixed the gauntlet on his hand one last time before shuffling closer to you. “Ready?”

His voice sounded strange to you, his actual voice coming through your earpiece overlapping with the voice coming through his modulator.

“Mhm.”

“Going in.”

You hooked your arms around his shoulders and his arm wrapped around your waist, holding you tight as a grapple shot out of his gauntlet. He used it almost exactly like how Miles used his webshooters, although his actions were a bit more... forceful? Rougher around the edges, if that made sense.

As your feet left solid concrete, the city sped by underneath the both of you, a pretty blend of neon and gray. Your suit prevented you from actually feeling the air whipping by, but a fraction of the wind managed to seep through the cracks, sending a chill down your spine as your stomach dropped at the sudden decline.

For a moment, gravity seemed to disappear. The laws of physics no longer felt like they effected you in any meaningful way. Anything and everything that had been weighing down on you — this whole situation, Miles, demanding schoolwork at Visions, your parents and their myriad of problems — no longer held you down.

It was exhilarating.

Your 'flight', so to speak, was over almost as soon as it started. You tucked your legs as you reached the roof of the Alchemax building, separating from Miles and rolling to lessen the impact. Surprisingly, the move came quite naturally to you, even without practice. You chalked it off as something you'd learned when you were a toddler, when your mom used to sign you up for all sorts of extracurriculars. You were pretty sure martial arts or something had been one of them; maybe you'd learned it there.

Your heart pounded as the sudden rush of adrenaline faded away, and you found yourself wishing it didn't. The thrill was addicting, as was the freedom that came with it. It was like a rollercoaster, or watching How to Train Your Dragon in 4D for the first time, only a hundred times better.

Miles had never taken you swinging. He'd never exactly told you why, always brushing off your request with something like a 'maybe later' or 'I can't right now', but you knew why.

Swinging together was a him and Gwen thing.

And you were fine with that.

What, like you were gonna be jealous about something as small as that? Pfft. No way. Nope. Nada.

“¿Estás bien?” Miles asked, pulling you out of your thoughts. You nodded in confirmation.

The two of you pried open a vent using the gloves of your suit, which was easier than you’d expected it to be. To your surprise, the claws that extended from them were very useful.

“We’re in.” You muttered as you crawled into the duct, hoping Aaron wasn’t having any trouble on his end. He’d been awful quiet… Then again, no news is good news on a mission, right?

Miles crawled in after you. “You remember the way?”

“Yeah.”

Together you made your way to the underground levels of the building, miraculously avoiding any possible dead ends or mouse traps. That musty smell of mold and concrete reached your senses as you reached the deeper parts.

There weren’t many people at the Super Collider, thanks to the diversion and timing. Miles gestured for you to stay put as he swiftly dropped out of the vents, knocking out the few guards there one by one with relative ease. It was strange seeing him fight; so similar to yet completely different from him. You were doing as told and observing from the vents until you saw one of the last three people — a scientist, by the looks of it — sneaking up on Miles from behind while he was preoccupied with the two other guards.

You quickly dropped down from your spot, landing behind the guard and catching him by surprise as he whirled around with his weird-techy-science gun. Dropping to the ground, you swept your leg under his, toppling him over and knocking the weapon out of his hands. You were about to knock him out when—

“Peter Parker?”

Are you kidding me?

You were certain it was him. This Peter was scrawnier, his hair more sandy blond than Peter Parker’s back home (before he passed, anyway), and he wore thick, black-rimmed glasses that perched awkwardly on his slightly crooked nose. But the ID that read ‘Peter Parker’ in big bold letters around his neck was a pretty solid indicator.

“…Yes?” He almost squeaked out.

Meanwhile, Miles had dealt with the two guards, stepping over them to get to the console. “Sácalo y entra ahí.” He called, fumbling a little as he tried to figure out which buttons to push to fire up the Collider.

“We have a bit of a situation..” You said, pulling Peter up by his arm and dragging him to the console as well.

You gave him a hushed explanation of your unwillingness to hurt the guy, and how you believed he was genuinely a good person. After all, this universe was almost the same as yours, right? Peter Parker couldn’t be that different here…

“And besides, he probably knows how to work this thing. It’d be helpful.”

Miles sighed. “…Fine, I won’t knock him out,” He agreed. Turning to Peter, he asked, “How do you start the Collider?”

Peter gulped, everything in his body language screaming ‘I want to run away’. “You- you need codes,” He stammered out. “Approval codes, from—”

“Don’t care.” Miles cut him off, giving him a brief glance at the goober. “Just start it. ¿Lo pilla?”

Peter nodded hastily and got to work, pressing buttons and switching levers as you made your way down to the Super Collider. There was a catwalk that ran from one side of the machine to the other, connecting the two mechanisms. If you got to the middle of it, you could jump off and into the portal once the Collider was at full output. Sure enough, its huge metal plates clinked and clattered as they slowly sprung to life.

This was it. You were finally going home.

Just then, you heard a thunk along with some choice words in Spanish, and looked over to the source to see Peter out cold on the ground.

“He got to the panic button!” Miles said, scowling to himself as he plugged in the goober, praying that this plan would work out in the next minute or so. Bubble-like particles appeared at the two points of the machine that faced each other, the noise it emitted now making it so that you could only properly make out what Miles was saying through your earpiece.

The Collider whirred and sputtered as the bubbles grew bigger and brighter, eventually bursting into two beams of light that met each other in the middle, creating one big sphere with a bunch of little bubbles going in and out of it and surrounding it. The sphere grew larger and larger until it collapsed in on itself, sprouting thin, curvy lines.

The thing grew bigger and bigger until it was about the size of a person, you could feel it starting to pull you in. You just had to wait for Miles’s go ahead—

Ow.

What the hell?

You were suddenly sprawled on the ground, something having tackled you at what felt like a hundred miles an hour. That something — or rather, someone — skid to a halt just a few feet away from you, dragging a hand across the tiled floor and leaving… scratch marks?

Scrambling to your feet, you crouched in a defensive stance as you looked over the newcomer.

There wasn’t a single inch of skin showing, their suit covering the whole of their person. The suit in question was mostly white, with some gray sprinkled in here and there. It reminded you of Eve from Wall-E or a Stormtrooper, maybe a mix of both. Strangely enough, the mask was just a blank slate; a sleek, white panel with no features or details, kind of like one of those LED face masks.

Overall it was kind of… boring? It didn’t inspire fear nor did it seem very imposing or something of the sort, which you’d think would be a priority for a villain organization. If anything it was bland, the only thing that stood out from the suit being its hands which donned gauntlets that looked similar to yours, but slimmer and more polished, more accurately described as gloves rather than gauntlets. They had claws just like yours, albeit they looked sharper, a bit more gnarled.

“Miles?” You called, your heartbeat quickening. “What’s going on?”

You heard a grunt from his end. You didn’t look to see what was happening, not daring to take your eyes off of your attacker, but you guessed that backup from Peter’s panic signal had arrived.

“What’s going on?” Aaron echoed, his voice slightly fuzzy. Before you could answer, your attacker lunged. You managed to doge a full on body slam, but they grabbed your arm instead, using it to flip you over their body and knocking the wind out of you.

You writhed as you hit the ground, managing to rip your arm out of their grasp and landing a kick on their ankle, causing them to stumble. You took the opportunity to get up and put some distance between the two of you, though you didn’t get far before the lunatic started chasing you. They jumped at you again but you turned around at the last second, and as you were pushed back with their claws digging into your shoulders you kicked both of your legs out into their stomach just as your back hit the ground, sending them straight over your head.

“Tìo, get your nephew, now!” You shouted, rolling away just in time to avoid a punch that landed on the floor where your head had been just a second ago. “It all went to shit, get him out!”

The pull from the Collider was getting stronger, tiny scraps like bolts and papers flying through the air and towards the beam of light. You raced back to the catwalk but were once again stopped by the 29th century Stormtrooper. You yelped as you felt something grab the back of your neck, sharp claws piercing through your suit and digging into your skin as your head was thrown harshly against a metal beam.

And just like that, you were on the ground. Again. What was this, like, the third time? Fourth? Great. Just fantastic.

I’m not even supposed to be here, you thought, grabbing at your opponent’s wrists as their hands wrapped around your neck, slowly choking you. They were stronger than you were, faster, clearly more skilled. What were you thinking? You’re not a fighter — you couldn’t beat them, not like this.

Why was the universe so intent on making you miserable? You were just trying to get home, maybe not die. Not dying would be nice. But no. You couldn’t have nice things, could you? Not your own life, not Miles, your own damn parents were happier in a reality where you weren’t in the picture—

A sudden surge of anger made you lash out. The universe could go fuck itself. You weren’t dying like this. Not when your ticket home was right in front of you.

Your gauntlet caught your attacker’s mask, knocking it off.

You knew that face.

It was the same face that looked back at you every time you looked at a mirror.

Well, not exactly, you supposed. There was a certain roughness in her features, the same as how Miles looked different from Miles. But you’d know those eyes anywhere. But they were… what’s the word, fuzzy? Unfocused? It was like her body was on autopilot while her brain was off in Hawaii or something.

The thing you did next could’ve won you the prize for ‘smartest dumb decision of the year’.

In all your oxygen-deprivated brilliance, you retracted your mask.

It might shake her, was your reasoning. It would confuse anyone to see a doppelgänger in a fight.

Or, you know, it could go totally wrong and she could punch your face in. But you were already getting choked, so, what was there to lose?

And it worked.

Her eyes shifted back into focus as her grip slackened, and you quickly shoved her — or is it you? yourself? — off, gasping for air. You could vaguely make out the outline of a giant scorpion-guy going one-on-one with Miles, who seemed to be holding out pretty well. He was favoring his left hand though, when usually he used his right.

“I— wha—? Where—” You heard from your left. Your alternate universe counterpart looked around the lab, her eyes wide and movements jerky like a wild animal on drugs.

You were about to say something when a loud buzzing came through your comm, which had evidently been damaged in the whole head-beam connection thing. Miles’s voice came through in broken pieces.

“Col— get..t— ov-rload—”

The Collider. The goober could only force an incomplete system to run for so long. Your time was up.

Wonderful.

A flash of blinding light came from the machine as it malfunctioned. The goober could only make an incomplete system work for so long. You were just able to get your helmet back on before everyone in the vicinity was pushed back in an explosion. Was that Aaron—?

After your temporary blindness wore off, you made out the aftermath, a high-pitched ringing in your ear as you dazedly looked around. The glass that separated the control area from the Collider had been shattered, the Scorpion twitching as he tried to get to his feet — did he have feet? Now’s really not the time — There was no sign of Miles or Aaron anywhere, which was either very good or very bad. You decided to believe it was the former for your own sake. A short distance away from you was another you, that one unconscious but still breathing, from the looks of it.

Grabbing your variant, you ripped open a vent on the wall before the Scorpion could take notice of either of you, shoving her in before following suit and placing the vent cover back on. You had to get out of here. Fast.

[bunnys-kisses]

virtual - toji fushiguro

pairing: toji fushiguro x fem!reader rating: 18+ summary: Toji Fushiguro had his vices. He was a man of many of them, drinking, gambling, the occasional smoke, and the womanizing. Oh, the womanizing. Toji loved his fresh meat of the week, the pretty thing with daddy issues that hung onto his strong arm. But he had another vice, the kind that was nobody’s business. tags: pwp, cam worker!reader, hair pulling, biting, dark(ish) themes, toji is your number one fan, 3.1k

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Toji Fushiguro had his vices. He was a man of many of them, drinking, gambling, the occasional smoke, and the womanizing. Oh, womanizing. Toji loved his fresh meat of the week, the pretty thing with daddy issues that hung onto his strong arm. But he had another vice, the kind that was nobody’s business.

He loved a cute cam girl on a sketchy website under the username ‘DeerlyDoe’. He had seen your face a few times, but he had always seen your body. And he liked what he saw. He loved a girl with a little meat on her bones who knew how to use those curves.

He wanted to do unsavory things to you, nothing illegal or heinous. He wanted to see what those glossed lips could do. He didn’t want to hurt you, but he did want to make you scream his name.

  “Shit,” He grunted to himself as he pleasured himself in front of his shitty computer. The internet in the hole he lived in was terrible, your perfect body was all pixels but he couldn’t deny the heat in his body from seeing you.

He relaxed in his chair and stroked his cock. he was a quiet tipper, he sent tips anonymously. He didn’t need to draw attention to himself, even though the tips were large. The excitement in your voice when you saw the number was enough for him.

Currently you are riding a dildo that you stuck to the tile floor of your kitchen. He watched your body shake with each movement. It made his cock tense in his hand, thick like a pipe and solid like a brick. He groaned through grit teeth as he continued to stroke himself.

His face felt hot and a bit of drool ran down his chin in his pursuit for pleasure. The pleasure was building up in his gut the closer he came to climax. And he could tell you were getting close as well. He began to edge himself so he could have the pleasure of finishing alongside you. There were many things he’d do in order to see it in real life. To watch your body move before his very eyes.

He heard your moans get higher and before he knew it you were finishing all over the dildo. You soaked the toy in your wetness. The sounds that followed your aching pussy around the dildo brought Toji over the edge.

He created a mess to the front of his sweatpants, but he felt relaxed. He dropped his arms over both sides of the chair and exhaled deeply. “Yeah.” He said breathlessly.

-

Toji never imagined that he’d ever meet you in real life. He knew you were located in Japan, but he ever expected to see you in Shibuya. It was late spring and the rain came down in sheets, but Toji was crawling the streets looking for a way to kill time.

At a crosswalk, he noticed someone beside him. He looked over and saw a familiar sight. Now of someone that he knew, but his little fixation on the internet. His eyes went wide at the sight of you. He was in disbelief at the sight but then he noticed that you were trying to protect yourself from the rain.

Without thinking he tilted his umbrella to cover your head. What he noticed next was how beautiful your eyes looked when you gazed up at him. He never expected to run into someone to beautiful. So how the hell did Toji end up back at your place with you digging through your belongings to find something big enough to change in. He thought it was impossible for you. You were so small, and he was so big. How was he even going to fit in anything you owned?

The DeerlyDoe was in front of him, digging through his expensive wardrobe to find something for him to wear. How endearing. He watched your ass as you were bent over. He even was a little wiggle as you dug further into the wardrobe.

He wondered how expensive your clothes were, and how much would you have lost if he tore the items off of you? The thought made him smirk but he dropped it when you turned around with a simple compression shirt and shorts in hand.

  “That's all I have, it’s from an ex-boyfriend. I’m glad I didn’t throw it out.” You giggled sheepishly.

The idea of you having a boyfriend made his chest freeze. But he composed himself with a cough and replied, “Well, I’m glad you had it. There was no need to do this much for me. Thank you.”

 “You gave up your umbrella and got all wet! How could I not repay you?”

He smiled as gently as he could, “Fair point. But I am still thankful.” He started to strip his clothes off and you observed his partially naked body.

You swallowed and felt heat rise in your cheeks. There was a strange man in your home. You tried to create a little room for him to change, but he kept getting closer. Like he enjoyed your closeness. You felt your heart stammer.

What were you thinking letting this strange man into your home? But those dark eyes and that scar. He was a bad boy, and you had your little fixation of bad boys. You swallowed once more then smiled at him. “I hope it fits.” You said, “You can take it home with you.“

He chuckled softly, ”Actually, I was wondering if I could take you home. I think you'd look good on my bed.“

The blush felt like it reached your scalp as you covered your mouth with your hands. You let out a small 'eep' noise from the embarrassment. Which only in turn made him laugh.

Once he was changed, he went over to you and took your hands away from your mouth. He looked down at you as he held your wrists probably a little tighter than for someone as delicate as you.

  “No one invites strange men into their homes unless they want their ducts clean or their pussy ate.” He grinned at you, enamored by your shyness. It was so much different than the woman in the live streams. But he still loved it.

  “Mister Fushiguro, sir.” You squeaked. He had told you his name when you walked back to your home. He held your wrists to your head to keep you steady, and he leaned in for a solid kiss. Your eyes closed and you felt the hammering in your chest.

By instinct you held onto him as you leaned up to meet his kiss more. The shirt felt familiar, but the muscles underneath did not. You gasped into the kiss as he cradled the back of your head.

When he pulled away you asked, “Is it too late to ask you to clean my ducts?” You giggled nervously.

He ran a thumb across your bottom lip to see if the lip gloss stayed on. He replied, “Interesting.“

  ”What do you mean?“ You asked curiously.

  ”Don't worry. As much as I love the clothes you've given to me. I think it's best if I take them off. How does that sound?“

You looked into those dark eyes and nodded, anything for him. You saw him smile, it almost looked terrifying, like you were the prey and he was the predator. He kissed your lips once more before he started to take off the clothes you lent him.

Your heart raced at the idea of being intimate with this man. It had been so long since you had actual sex with someone. Usually you did things alone in your tiny apartment. But here was a man, a very handsome man, taking off his clothes in front of you.

The sight of his muscles as he took off the already tight shirt made you gasp. He was perfection, he wa danger, he made your head spin. It wasn't until his hands were back on you that you realized that maybe you should get undressed as well.

You felt heat in your body as you removed your sundress and left you bare in a simple bra and underwear. Your breathing was growing rapid as the heat in the main room grew warmer. You whispered, “I'm sorry if I don't look very good.“ You crossed your arms self consciously.

He pulled your arms away from you and held both wrists in one hand. He leaned in and tucked hair behind your ear, “I don't want to hear you say that ever again. If I didn't want a taste of that pussy, then I wouldn't be here now. I want you to be a good girl for me.” His breath was hot and left tingles down your spine.

He told you to leave him in the bedroom and you did as you were told. Afterall you were a good girl.

You couldn't believe what was going on, but a curious part of you went along with it. You were used to performing in front of a camera, but to have the real thing sent excitement through you. You blushed as you opened the bedroom door and Toji pressed his front against your back.

  “You want me to touch you?” He asked seductively.

You nodded, “Please, sir.” Then moaned when he started to feel up your breasts. You held onto his strong forearms, you could barely get your hands around them. You could feel his erection against your back, which made you grow even more flustered.

He leaned down to whisper in your ear, “You know, I watch you perform almost every night. You help me relax, I always wondered what that pussy tasted like.”

  “You mean-”

  “Yeah, DeerlyDoe. I know that your pussy can take a beating.” He smirked into your ear before he bit your neck. He played with your nipples over your bra, “I've had my fantasies about you, what I'd do to you. Do you think tonight we can try some of them out?”

  “I've never had sex a fan before.“ You admitted.

He chuckled, ”Don't worry, I'll go easy. Maybe you'll like it so much that you'll never even think about having sex with a fan again.“ His voice was hot in your ear as he continued to touch you. His grip was rough as he played with your breasts.

You took off the underwear you wore and got onto the bed. You laid out for him to see every curve of your body. You watched him lick his lips as rain battered your window. Your nipples were hard from his teasing and between your legs was slick from the arousal.

He smirked once more, ”What a sight. A proper whore, ready to accept any cock she's given.“ He watched you grow flustered once more and he approached the bed. His hard cock bobbed with every step, ”I hope you know, I like it bare. I think you can tell, no condoms fit me.“

You swallowed and nodded. You watched him get into bed and you felt his length graze your thigh as he got closer. Your body felt electric and hot. Your heart was racing. You weren't too sure how it was all going to fit inside of you, but you had to try. Your core throbbed for the feeling of it inside of you.

  ”Dirty girl.” He remarked as he kissed your neck. His teeth dug into your skin, hard enough to leave an indent. You rubbed your thighs together in anticipation. He groaned against you, you felt amazing. He could feel the sweat on his back as he pinned you down to the bed.

  “Please, sir. Fushiguro, sir.“ You whimpered like a puppy which only aroused him further. His cock moved against your thigh once more and he caught a hint of how wet you were between your legs.

He groaned, the time for foreplay was over. He kept your arms pinned above your head with one large hand and your legs tightly locked around his waist. He gazed down at you with lust marking his face. With his free hand he guided his cock into your sweet pussy. He felt the stretch of your sex and he groaned.

You on the other hand were tense and it ached. You couldn't grip onto the bed for support. Your back arched but he kept you pinned down to the bed. Your heart raced as he sank himself inside of you. It was a tad painful, but it felt so good.

  ”Good girl.“ He groaned, he could've climaxed so easily but he edged himself not to. With one hand on your hip and the other holding you down, he began to thrust his hips. His cock pushed further inside of you and you moaned so loudly. Your noises made a shiver run up his spine to ecstasy.

  ”Please, sir.”

  “I know you can take it, I've seen you take more than this.” He growled. He recalled every dildo and toy you ever used on yourself. You once told the stream you liked the pain. He watched you moaning as you gasped loudly.

Your eyes squeezed shut as the two on you fucked on the bed. The bed creaked from the movements and eventually Toji sloppily made out with you to shut you up. You felt the pleasure and the pain mix together in a way that left you speechless. You tightened your legs around the other man and tried to meet his pace.

Your heart raced and when he parted the kiss you said, “Fushiguro, ah, please.”

He smirked down at you, and your eyes gazed upon the scar on his lip. Part of you wanted to lick it, but he kept you pinned to the bed. You whimpered loudly some more and Toji let go of your hands but found his large, calloused hand in your hair. He yanked on the  strands to pull you up towards him.

He held your hair in his hand as he bit your bottom lip and kissed you. You whined into the kiss from the subtle pain across your lips. Your heart hammered in your chest as he dropped you back on the bed and leaned back a little to get a better angle of his thrusts.

You saw stars as his cock hit every sweet spot inside of you. It felt like his cock was in the back of your throat the way he was moving inside of you. The sheer size took the wind out of you with each powerful thrust. You were becoming addicted to his feelings for him. It was arousing.

 “Good girl.” He said with a low growl to his voice.

You were sweaty all over as your body moved up and down on the bed. You gasped loudly as his cock bulled your cervix, it was so different when it was a real person rather than a toy. You managed to get  a hold of the covers under you and anchored yourself as his thrusts got more aggressive.

He groaned against you as he continued to move his body. His thrusts became erratic in a pursuit for climax. You gasped, moaned and whimpered which only encouraged him. His body throbbed with a need for release. This felt like nothing he had ever felt before, and he had his fair share of pussy.

He could tell why you were so good at what you did. His breathing was rapid as he held onto your hips with both hands and pushed his cock as deep as it would go. Sweat dripped from his hair down his back muscles.

There was so much he wanted to do to you, right now was just the taster. He licked his lips with want as he watched your heavy breathing. You were a total slut, you loved anything that would stuff those holes of yours.

He wanted to bite, bruise and mark you. To make you his. He'd let you do your shows but maybe his name tattooed on your thigh would be a reminder to your viewers that you were a taken woman. The thought made his cock throb. Maybe he could convince you of that. But first he'd have to break your brain while fucking it out of your skull.

He hunched over and dug his hands into the bed under you. He growled as he felt the pleasure race through his body. This felt good, you felt good. His muscles moved with each thrust of his hips. He knew he was getting close.

As were you.

The sex was rough, extreme to an extent. But you were both lost in the vastness of pleasure that you two kept going. You reached out for him and made out with him once more. He groaned into the kiss and put one hand in your hair again.

He pulled on it and you groaned into the kiss. Your pussy clenched around him and he made a noise that came from deep inside of him. That felt good.

The best continued to creak as the two of you fucked like two horny animals. The feeling was becoming overwhelming and you knew that you were both going to orgasm soon. You pulled away from the kiss and panted wildly.  

  “You're so good.' He grumbled, “Such a good hole to fuck. I might have to keep you to myself. See what else those hips can do. I'll need a good fuck after the work I do.” He grabbed your breasts so tightly that you knew they were going to put purple bruises come morning.

You whined and arched your pain from the pain, but yet it still made you core throb for him. With another heavy thrust you came all over his cock, you coated it in your wetness. You let out a high-pitched moan that was more erotic than anything that he ever saw online.

You went laxed on the bed but still held onto the sheets as you let Toji use your body to achieve his own orgasm. The bed continued to move, with it hitting the wall. Your breathing was heavy and your mind felt hazy.

With a few more thrusts into your tight cunt. he finished inside of you. He groaned as he did so before he leaned forward once more and gave you a searing kiss. You two made out with his softening cock still inside of you as the both of you came down from your orgasms.

  “Sir.”

  “Good girl, I hope you're ready for more because I'm not done with you. Now be a good girl and get on all fours for me. I want to see what ass.” He groaned against you before he pulled you in for another searing kiss.

You knew that you'd be seeing a lot of Toji Fushiguro after this, he may have been a fan but now he's making you feel really good and not from high donations.

[fairyysoup]

the devil i know

chapter six: i don't need to feel the sun, let me touch your skin

(repost)

fic tag | fic playlist | fic masterlist

pairing(s): crossroads demon!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: Eddie's dumbassery brings the cops to… a door. Not exactly his, though.

cw: fem masturbation mention, demonic shenanigans, mean!eddie but not to reader, murder, there are multiple minor character deaths and death mentions, gore, blood, animal death mention, eddie says ACAB, smoking, implied bullying/harassment towards reader, deal with a demon, inspired by american and european folklore, sacrilegious themes, dead dove: do not eat

please check masterlist and individual parts for content warnings before reading. this fic contains dark themes. this entire work is explicit. your media consumption is your own responsibility.

ALL OF MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

Eddie steps– read: stumbles– through the dusty mirror on the back of the closet door. This house he picked is one grade A shithole, but it’ll work for his purposes.

Ohhh, he’s so fucking mad. So mad. He would have stayed with you all night. He would have been there to force you to drink some water, eat some chocolate. Now that you’ve given him a chance– now that you’ve decided you want him– he would have stayed with you until you were crying from pleasure. You’re so fucking precious when you beg, and he’s a creature of pride. And lust. And gluttony and all those other fucking sins– something about becoming a demon has made them all multiply within him. 

If he’d stayed with you, he would have taken you to pieces. Pulled you apart and molded you to his whim, given you anything you asked for and more. Maybe he’d even coax you to another orgasm in your dreams; who knows? The possibilities were literally endless. 

But he’s not there with you. 

He’s here in Fuckass, Nowhere, because the cops decided to dig into your so-called ‘high school sweetheart,’ Eddie Munson.

Why the fuck he gave you his real name, he doesn’t know. Maybe because he wanted you to know it, to have it in your mind the way yours is in his, constantly. But he didn’t imagine the cops would try to look into it. 

But, of course they would, because shit like this never goes easy for him. And, of course they would decide to do it the day that he’s got a hot date to take care of.

Fucking cock blocks.

He had to leave you in your post-orgasmic haze to cause a power outage at the department of investigation before he could construct a fictitious Eddie Munson, who’d grown up in or around Eastwick. Sketchy background, a few minor felonies that don’t add up to shit, but warrant at least an arrest record. Something believable without being too on the nose.

The lamp lights flicker on and off as he moves through the trailer. The TV switches on without any physical force directing it to. He picks up a yellowing, half empty box of Marlboro reds from the end of the kitchen counter, and pulls one out of it. 

The previous owner of this house rots in a lake a mile away, a few months too late for the party. One of the good things about being a demon is that you can construct an alibi so easily, change names on house deeds and pay stubs and tax forms with the flick of a wrist. Make it so that something you say happened actually did happen, on paper. Erase something you don’t want there. 

The rug beneath his bare feet is rough, indoor-outdoor carpeting that the poor idiot who owned this house didn’t bother to switch out. Eddie’s dark jeans hang low on his hips, his chest bare and his hip bones jutting out at odd angles. He looks down and all his old tattoos are there, just the way he likes them. Your taste is still on his tongue, in the corners of his mouth, behind his teeth, reminding him of where he’d rather be. 

Eddie lights himself the cigarette as he peeks out of the kitchen window. In the yard, the coppers are rounding the rust bucket of a Volkswagen bug sitting in the tall grass.

He sits on the rickety wooden dining chair beside the door, listening to their footsteps as they mount the porch, whispering to each other. He hates cops. Always did, for obvious reasons, when he was human– but now that he’s beyond worldly measures, all they do is stick their noses in where they don’t belong.

Normally, he wouldn’t do this. A normal demon would allow the consequences of the deal you’d made to catch up with you. A normal demon would let you swim or drown when it comes to dealing with the repercussions, take their share from the deal and run away, allowing the contract to claim your soul. Just like his own demon did to him.

The thing that Eddie failed to mention to you when you cut that deal with him is that he would steal the sun just to keep you warm. He had already decided that he was in love with you when he got your petition, and he doesn’t know how to love passively. 

So, this is a walk in the park for him, all things considered.

Three knocks against the door cut over the sound of Scarface on the TV. Eddie shakes his head in solidarity at the house ghost floating in the corner, watching him with hollow eyes and creating a black hole where a lamp is supposed to be.

“Watch me fuck this up,” he whispers to it.

“Edward Munson?” The small one, Officer Leony, peers up at him with a blank expression when he opens the door. 

“Uh… yeah?” 

He stares down at her, leaning a naked shoulder against the doorframe, not bothering to extinguish his cigarette. He sucks in a long drag.

Christ, this thing tastes like ass. They don’t make ‘em like they used to. Cigarettes taste better when he just conjures them himself.

Eddie exhales a cloud of tobacco, somehow without pulling a face or retching. He’ll smell like smoke no matter what, and he’s sure that the heat of his hellfire radiates from his bare skin into the muggy air. Best to pretend it’s because he’s nothing but a smoker. He can feign mortality up to a point, and that’s where the uncanny valley sits. 

Seemingly to support this, Leony rocks back on her heels, but doesn’t step back the way she wants to.

“I’m Officer Leony, this is Officer Casey–” she gestures to the taller man beside her. “There’s been a disturbance at a town upstate, and we’re here to ask you a few questions about it, if that’s all right.”

Eddie shifts in place. Oh, no, he couldn’t have predicted this. “Can’t see what I’d have to do with something upstate.”

“Y’ever been to a little town called Eastwick?” Casey asks mildly. 

“I grew up a town over. Across the river.” Eddie lies. It gives him a certain thrill to lie to the cops again. It’s like riding a bike– you never really forget how, but sometimes you miss it when the weather’s right.

“Ever met a man named Andrew Montgomery?”

That piece of shit motherfucker. “Never heard of him.”

“He’s dating– dated– someone we think you may know,” Leony begins.

“You’ve got her name on your chest,” blurts Casey, who seems to be having trouble keeping his eyes on Eddie’s face, in favor of the glaring mark. “Nice, uh. Nice scar.”  

“It’s a brand.” Eddie can’t help the smirk that comes to his face when he glances down to see the raised tissue on his own skin. You’d only said that he burned your name on his chest, but he took that a step further and placed it over his heart. Go big or go home, right? “Not as pretty as she was, but it’s not like I can remove it.”

“Right.”  

A few paces away, in the trees, a pack of hounds snarl and bark like they’re having a real field day. 

“What’s that?” Casey nearly yelps, peering into the trees. He sees nothing. “Wolves?”

“No, those are just my dogs.” Eddie shrugs at him. He fights off a nervous laugh. “They get a little rowdy sometimes, y’know. No worries.”

Leony clears her throat. “Mr. Munson, we’re sure that given your… history, you’re no stranger to automotive accidents.”

Eddie’s eyes flick to her. “Accidents?” Accidents, referring to the spontaneously combusting car that a certain Edward Munson was held in custody for perpetrating, but was acquitted for lack of evidence.

Or something. He doesn’t exactly remember the wording he used on the fake case file. Not too on the nose, right?

“See, Mr. Montgomery’s vehicle exploded earlier today.”

“Shit, is he all right?” Pfffft. 

“Why would you assume he was harmed?” Leony asks, looking like she’s just caught him in a lie.

Eddie’s eyes flutter in annoyance. “I know cops. You don’t drive into the middle of nowhere to question someone for a bit of damaged property.”

Leony huffs. “You’re right. Mr. Montgomery is in the ICU, unfortunately. Severe burns all over his body. We just want to rule out any foul play. If you know anything at all…”

“Like I said, I’ve never heard of the guy before now.”

Leony nods, sucking on her teeth. “And, when was the last time you spoke to your ex-girlfriend?”

Eddie puffs out his cheeks, overdramatizing it. “Probably, uh…” Could be talking to her right now. “Five, six years?” 

“And you haven’t been back to Eastwick since then?”

“Why would I want to go back to that fuckin’ place?” Eddie growls. His anger isn’t entirely fake– he hates small towns. 

“I can think of one reason.” Leony’s eyes fall to your name burned onto his heart. “Mr. Munson, I’m sure you’re… aware of your ex-girlfriend’s reputation within the town.”

“Reputation,” Eddie parrots.

“As a witch.” Casey says it so frankly, as if it holds some kind of merit.

Eddie bristles and looks back and forth between them. “R’you telling me that two cops actually believe in that kind of horseshit?”

“Witchcraft isn’t illegal, even if it… were real…” Leony explains hesitantly, while Eddie tries to keep smoke from blowing out of his ears. “But rumors like that don’t form in a vacuum. We have reason to believe she may have tried to harm Mr. Montgomery. If the rumors are true– which, usually they are in these cases, she has a bit of a reputation for being unusual. We just wondered if you can recall any sort of odd behavior… besides the obvious.”

Another pointed look at the brand on his chest.

EDDIE.

Eddie glances up at the moon in the evening sky, waxing its way to full. It’s a little more than halfway there.

EDDIE. EDDIE. EDDIE.

You’re calling him. He can sense the need in your body, sees flashes of your hands moving down your stomach and dipping beneath the fabric of your pajamas. You’re just lying there, focusing all your energy on him. 

Touching yourself to the thought of him.

Your voice is ringing in his ears, screaming for him to leave this place and go to you. He fights not to wince at the volume of it. 

EDDIE I NEED YOU RIGHT NOW RIGHT NOW RIGHT NOW–

Fuck, he wishes he didn’t have to do this shit. 

Eddie clenches his jaw, squeezing the door jamb so hard that he leaves scorch marks in the plaster in the shape of his fingerprints. He’s mad that he can’t be with you as soon as you call, and he hates that this is keeping him away from you.

He hates what they’ve done to you, ostracized you the way that his own small town did to him. Witchcraft. Devil worship. Unusual equals murder. Even if you are a witch, even if he is the closest thing to the devil you’ll know, he hates the way that these cops talk about you like they know you, or what you’ve been through. 

“Believe me,” he snaps, letting his temper get the better of him, “If she ever did anything unusual, it’s because she had a damn good reason to. Hell, I’d rather burn that whole fuckin’ town to the ground than see her suffer in it anymore.”

Leony’s mouth twitches up at the corners. “Is that so?”

Eddie blinks.

You fucked it up, comes the whispering voice of the ghost in the corner.

“Shit.” Eddie presses his lips together, and tosses his burning cigarette into the dead grass next to the porch. He lifts his two fingers to his lips and whistles loudly. 

Snarling and barking, a pack of shadowy dogs bound out of the trees. Red eyes glow from each smoky figure, varying in size and shape, but all made of the same infernal aether. 

Casey tries to run. Leony tries pulling her gun. The juxtaposition between the two officers is laughable, but ultimately, they both meet the same fate between the jaws of the hellhounds that swarm them. 

Eddie doesn’t see where Casey gets dragged off to– somewhere in the trees, the shouts take a little bit to die down. Leony’s throat gets ripped out first, so all he hears from her is a faint gurgling that slowly gets overshadowed by the sound of crackling as a fire catches on in the grass. 

“Never trust a demon to make things easy,” he sighs, and takes a seat on the porch. It’ll take a few minutes before the fire really gets going on the wood, and by that time he’ll be gone. 

He’ll make sure this doesn’t get back to you. It just means another trip into the computers at the department of investigation, and those wires are really fucking tight to squeeze into.

Eddie whistles shortly. “Cerberus. Stop it, you’re making a mess.” 

The Doberman spirit drops the decapitated head he’d been using as a chew toy, flinging blood all over the yellow grass. Instead, the German Shepherd spirit beside him immediately snatches it and throws it across the yard before chasing after it. 

Eddie glares. “Sauron. Bad dog.”

Out of the mix of shadowy dogs and flying body parts, a tinier hellhound than all the rest trundles up. It’s the newest of the bunch, still in need of training– but Eddie’s not entirely sure that he wants to train it to be like the rest. 

Dogs will be dogs, even in the afterlife. He chose the others for their ferocity. Most of them were the losers of dog fights; innocent animals that never asked to be put through the pain and torture that they got in life, but were trained to be killers nonetheless. They’re protective, loyal, and at times bloodthirsty.

This one is different. This dog has never killed, never maimed, never hurt anything in its little life. This one chose Eddie, sought him out, wandering through the Otherworld as a messenger with a piece of copper in its mouth.

Lacey crawls up into Eddie’s lap on her tiny legs, her little red eyes blinking slowly as she settles down onto his thighs, just like she did when she’d delivered your petition. She’d found him lounging against a tree, emerged from the mist and dropped the copper into his outstretched hand. Made a home for herself in his lap as the details of your petition rolled around in his mind, and all at once he decided you were beginning and end of everything for him. 

He would have given her back to you– she’s the one that you miss, but she’s too young of a spirit to be able to manifest as a physical dog yet. 

But she’s a cuddly thing. He can understand why you loved her so much. He feels a little bit of that love well up in his own heart, underneath your name branded across it.

His hand pets her smoky back as the fire in the grass reaches the porch. 

EDDIE WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU EDDIE EDDIE EDDIE–

Shit, you’re persistent.

[theemporium]

Heyyyy, love all your works i’ve read so far, and i am still scrolling through your feed.

I wanted to request a Daniel x sunshine, where they have pregnancy scare, and daniel wasn’t in a right mood so he kind of had a bad reaction but then they end up alright because he apologises and tells sunshine how it was all because he had a bad day.

Thank youuuuu, take care💚

whoops this is a bit of a long one but thank you!! and thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

To be frank, Daniel had a shit day.

He had been dragged into the factory at an ungodly hour—far earlier than he was meant to be—and it started off his day in a grouchy mood. The meeting seemed pointless in his opinion, but he was still forced to sit through it regardless and fight the urge to doze off. 

Then, it had been a day jam-packed full of media duties and sponsorship promotions that he was in no mood for. Everybody had their off days, even Daniel Ricciardo and the people on set could tell. Unfortunately, there was a deadline to be met and they couldn’t keep putting the filming off. 

And to top everything off, you had been blowing his phone up all morning, forcing him to turn it off for the rest of the day when the team started to get a bit irritated at the constant interruption.

By the time he headed back to your shared apartment, he was downright exhausted, hungry and in desperate need to just sit on the couch for five minutes before he did anything. He expected you would either be in your office working, or in the kitchen whipping something up for the two of you.

He was surprised to find neither of those options. 

Instead, you were pacing around the living room, lost in your own world as you muttered away to yourself. Your head snapped up when he shut the door behind him, your eyes wide like you were a deer caught in headlights. He waited for you to saunter over, press a kiss on his lips as you greeted him like you usually did. 

But you just stood there. 

“Can we talk?” you eventually blurted out, and a part of him sensed the heaviness in your voice. He knew it wasn’t going to be some silly story, and he didn’t think he had it in him to have the conversation right that second. 

“Baby, I just walked through the door, at least let me shower,” he sighed as he shuffled further into the apartment, dropping his backpack near the door before he shrugged his shoes off and placed them beside the others. 

“Danny, please—” you started but the exhaustion within him finally snapped, hitting the last dregs of his patience. 

“Please, I’ve had a long fucking day at work, I don’t need to hear whatever you’ve been nagging me all day about right this second,” he muttered, his words a little harsher than even he intended. “Just please, give me like thirty minutes alone.” 

You blinked before clearing your throat, your eyes instantly looking anywhere but him. He felt a twinge of guilt rush through him.

“Baby—”

But you just shook your head, making your way past him and towards the door as you shoved your feet into the first pair of shoes you could find. “It’s fine, I needed to get something from the shops anyways.”

Daniel sighed. “Sunshine—”

But you were already out the door.

Daniel ran his hands over his face, letting out a small groan before he started making his way deeper into the house. He would make it up to you once you returned, he would make sure of that. But right now, he needed a hot shower and a change of clothes, and maybe some food to help him feel a little more human. 

However, when his hand reached out to flip the bathroom switch, the last thing he expected to see when the lights turned on was the plastic stick lying on the counter. 

His blood ran cold. 

He knew exactly what it was and he didn’t need to step any closer to know. It was a pregnancy test. You had done a pregnancy test. And then, just when he thought he could breathe again, everything started clicking in place. 

The phone calls throughout the day. The messages that went unanswered on his side. The sketchy behaviour when he walked through the door and the insistence to have a chat. 

You wanted to tell him you were pregnant—with his child—and he had snapped at you.

Daniel swore he could have thrown up there and then as he quickly exited the bathroom, his mind whirling with a million different thoughts as he made his way to the living room. He sat on the edge of the couch, staring at the door as the seconds ticked by like hours as he waited, as he waited for you to come back home, as he waited to say a thousand and more apologies the second you stepped a foot into the threshold of your shared apartment. 

When you turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open, the last thing you expected was to be ambushed by your boyfriend into a tight hug that almost made you drop the tub of ice cream you bought. 

“Danny—”

“I’m sorry,” his words came out slightly muffled. He then lifted his head, his expression wary and his eyes glossy with tears as he continued. “I’m so fucking sorry. I should have never snapped at you and I should have answered your calls—”

You gave him a sad smile. “Babe, it’s fine—”

“No, no, it’s not,” Daniel said with a shake of his head as he cupped your face in his hands. “I’m gonna be there for you, you hear me? I might have been a jerk earlier but that’s gone now. I’m gonna be here for you, to do whatever you need. I’m gonna be here for you and our baby and—”

“Daniel,” you repeated, gripping his wrists to catch his attention. “I’m not pregnant.” 

He shook his head. “Sunshine, you don’t have to lie, I saw the test—”

“It’s negative.” 

He blinked, feeling as though the air had been wiped out of him. “What?”

“It came back negative,” you told him, letting out a shaky breath. “I’d been feeling shit the last few days and realised that I was late. I started freaking out and panicking, and I tried calling you on the off chance that you’d be able to come back home.”

Daniel’s eyes softened. “Sunshine.”

“I’m sorry,” you muttered with a sheepish smile. “I was shaking so much, I couldn’t even drive to the shops. I walked, bought the tests and a litre of water and just…chugged it on the way back.” 

His thumbs gently caressed the apple of your cheek.

“Those three minutes were the scariest three minutes of my life,” you confessed to your boyfriend, swallowing back the emotions you felt in the back of your throat. “I mean, I don’t even know if I’m ready to be a mother and I just—” 

Daniel waited. 

“I just wanted you there,” you whispered.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured and he wrapped his arms around you, bringing you close and tight into his chest. It was the comfort you had been seeking all day. “I’m sorry I wasn’t with you, and I’m sorry for being a jerk earlier.”

“It’s fine,” you muttered. “You were stressed.” 

“I shouldn’t have taken it out on you,” Daniel retorted and pulled back so he could look at you again. “One day, I hope you will be the mother of my children, and I hope I will be by your side when we find out.”

Your lips twitched. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” he grinned softly. “I’m in it for the long run, Sunshine.”

“Me too, Ricciardo,” you whispered before giving him a teasing smile. “Even if you’re a jerk sometimes.”

He laughed softly. “I’ll make it up to you, Sunshine, promise.”

But you just smiled. “I know you will.”

.

[fluffy-little-demon]

ayo (if you feel like it) write a fanfic about your fav slasher's reaction to y/n stealing their shit like a lil goblin rat; could be a shirt, a jacket, a fav dessert, their hat etc, etc lol

I am so sorry this took so long 😭 I hope this is ok and you like it 💕

I did Rusty Nail, Bo Sinclair and Michael Myers (I had peepaw in my head but I guess you could read this for any version)

Rusty and Bo call the reader baby Bo also calls the reader a little minx

Rusty Nail

Gif by @tinalbion

Rusty had put his jacket on the couch momentarily while he went to fetch his phone from upstairs. He came back down and went to grab his jacket only to find it had gone. Rusty chuckled to himself as he walked towards the kitchen where you were making a cup of tea.

"Baby could I have my jacket back please I gotta go."

"But I'm freezing and this is really warm plus it smells like you."

"I could just stay here but then we wouldn't have anything to eat"

"Can't I just come with you. Pleasee?" Giving your best puppy dog eyes.

Rusty rolls his eyes pretending to be annoyed "well come on then, hurry up and put some shoes on."

You quickly but carefully poured your tea into a travel mug to drink on the way into town. Putting your shoes on while Rusty went upstairs to get another jacket.

Bo Sinclair

Bo had come back home from working in the gas station to have some lunch. He was in the middle of making a sandwich when he felt arms wrap around his waist from behind.

"Hey baby" he says as he turns around in your grasp to kiss your forehead. "You had food yet?"

"No, I was planning on taking some and Jonesy to that lake in the forest."

"M'kay, just be careful"

"I will" you place a quick kiss on his lips before making your own sandwich. You also pick up a packet of crisps and a can of pop.

"I'mma get back to work, ya gonna be ok?"

"I'll be fine honey" giving him a sweet kiss before taking his hat off his head and it on yours.

"Oi ya little minx, that's mah hat"

"I gotta go byeee" you wave as you walk out the door.

Michael Myers

Michael was looking around for the new hoodie you brought him last week. He had checked the bedroom, the entire wardrobe and the drawers had been emptied, their contents lying all over the floor. He had checked the washing basket. Picked it up and emptied it on the bathroom floor. His hoodie wasn't there either. Michael walked into the living room to ask if you knew where it was, only to find you curled up on the couch wearing the exact hoodie he was trying to find. Michael let out a sharp of air out of his nose before deciding to lie down on the couch and pull you on top of him.

Tags: @sketchy-rosewitch @rottent33th @phantomcat394 @lanamiller comment or send an ask to be added or removed from the list.

[delilaahh9]

Fictober day 8! 🤎

Giggles and ghosts - Luke Hughes

(Also featuring Jack Hughes)

October 30th, 2023

9:03 am

“Luke!” Jack shouts from his room.

“What?” The boy calls back and sees his brother appear from the doorway.

“Did you go on my phone last night” he asks.

“Jack, why would I go on your phone”

“I don’t know but I woke up and the battery is pretty much drained and it’s not on airplane mode”

“Why did you have it on airplane mode?”

“The radiation” he responds as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world and walks away while saying “Don’t touch my stuff”

Luke sighs but goes on with his day, he really had nothing to do since y/n was busy working.

But he decided couch rotting wasn’t a good idea and got up to get ready for the gym since he couldn’t spend time with his girlfriend.

12:30pm

Luke came back and something seemed odd, he smelt something burnt, but Jack left shortly after him. So he checked the oven and sure enough, it was on.

*Calling… **Rowdy🕺*

“What’s up Luke?” He says into the phone, before connecting it to the car.

“Why the fuck is the oven on” he shoots.

“The oven… what? I didn’t even use it”

“Well it doesn’t just turn on, on its own”

“Luke I swear I didn’t use it, i don’t know how it turned on. I’ll be home in 20”

“Whatever man” the younger boy sighs and hangs up. Going on about his day and deciding to take a shower.

When he was done and back in his sweats, he went and sat out in the living room to watch a movie but the tv remote wasn’t working.

“Jack why doesn’t the remote work?” He asks.

“Batteries?”

Sure enough, the battery’s out of the back we’re gone and Luke was fed up because he had just put new ones in yesterday.

9:43 pm

After all the weird stuff that has happened today, Jacks phone, the oven, the remote - even the wifi kept flickering- Luke was starting to think his apartment was haunted. So he sat in the dark living room re searching the building with his girlfriend on the phone.

“Luke why have you been staring at your screen the past 10 minutes, what are you doing?” She asks and he flips the camera.

“My house is haunted, so much weird shit is happening y/n it’s so weird-“ he noticed a smile start to make its way onto her face as she tried to stifle laughs.

“What- I knew you would think it’s stupid” he sighs and she couldn’t hold the laughs anymore.

“I thought it would take more to get your scared” she laughs and Jack comes out of his room.

“what are you talking about”

“Well I was bored at work yesterday and decided to plan this epic prank on you- which I had so much more stuff planned you suck! Jack helped me to”

“you- he- what?!”

Jack is laughing in the kitchen and she is calming down.

“How did you do that to the wifi tho?!” He asks.

“You live in the hood of jersey, that happens everyday” she spits.

“Hey!” Both and Jack and Luke shout but she’s not wrong, there are is sketchy.

But Jack will never find out why his battery was drained and his phone was off airplane mode…

[alaskan-wallflower]

I really do hope that more evidence is coming forward soon because I do admit, the fact that both Brody and Trevor are out for the week does seem sketchy. But so does the way that all of these allegations came out. It only seems to be talked about on Instagram and Reddit and nowhere else.

that’s what i’m saying-all of this is so sketchy. maybe it’s inconvenient timing? but there’s so many things wrong with this that point me to believe it isn’t true

First off there’s so many inconsistencies within the posts. Nobody has shown any actual proof other than someone claiming they know where Brody went to college. But since I’m a bit of an ‘I need evidence’ kind of person, I figured I’d check it out. They claim he went to UF but I found nothing about him going to UF online. Second, why is it JUST Brody they’re going after? They’re claiming the cast is “full of r*pists” but they aren’t focused on anyone but Brody.

Second, you think that there would be a news outlet talking about this. I mean, rape allegations are serious and should be handled as such. So it’s weird that Instagram is the first place this all came out. The night after the Tony’s nonetheless. There was no concrete proof either. This chick just said that she ‘knew it and that everyone else did too’ when she was contacted by the actual musical themselves (at one of the producers at least)

Third off is the accuser’s response to any form of criticism. Normally in a case like this, it would make sense to show evidence when faced with criticism and skepticism and be like ‘okay, yes, this is why this happened’ and instead she doubled down and said shit like ‘oh where’s your address so I can mail you a clown suit’ and ‘everyone knows it’ without proving anything.

Fourthly Angelina Jolie is the producer of this. She stands with victims and is fairly open about it. If there was even an inkling that Brody did this don’t you think she’d fire him on the spot? There are also claims of police involvement and investigation but I’ve found no such thing. The original accuser fails to provide sourcing-which is also suspicious. You’d think she’d provide sourcing on where she gets her information but she doesn’t. You’d think she would have solid concrete evidence rather than just doubling down and saying ‘that’s what happened’. That’s the kind of shit you do when like-your sibling hits you and they’re lying about it by saying ‘oh it happened everyone knows it’ without providing solid evidence.

Fifthly, there was another post that the cast was talking about how they were gonna win best musical and everyone else could leave-you saw the video of Brody ripping his shirt off and speed changing into his tux for the Best Actor Award. There was no way he had any involvement in that at least. And secondly, I seriously don’t think any of them had time for that. I really don’t.

Sixthly, I met some of the cast when I went. They were all super nice and when they saw me with my cane they asked me if they could do the face touching thing and were perfectly okay when I said no. And from what I’ve heard Brody is like that too and asks for consent before touching a fan. Heard this from a few people.

It’s really suspicious that this all only comes to light after they won best musical. It’s more suspicious that they’re only going after Brody and nobody else. They say the cast is full of r*pists but then refuse to provide names other than Brody Grant. And there were people that were super pissed that Suffs and Hell’s kitchen didn’t win the Best Musical Award. So it could be plausible that people are trying to take them down for whatever reason. Maybe because they’re men and won. I dunno.

I’m of course not saying it didn’t happen. I was SA’ed when I was younger by my late grandfather. I know how hard it is to want to come forward about these things. But it’s extremely sketchy the way these things played out. I do admit that Brody taking a step back is awfully suspicious too. But I don’t have insight on that and I don’t feel like stalking this poor man’s whereabouts. He could be taking a break-I mean, it’s been a few months. He could be on vacation. Who knows? And there have been many, many times that people have lied about rape for clout. Like the Kwite situation a few years back. Now am I saying this didn’t happen? No. No Im not. Am I saying this is extraordinarily sketchy and that there’s no solid evidence this girl provided? Yes. Yes I am.

I’m not saying anyone did or didn’t do anything until it’s been proven by an actual news source and not some girl on IG. But if these allegations are true, of course I hope Brody gets fired and serves prison time for what he’s done. If not, I hope her IG account gets taken down and she serves time. Accusing an innocent person of r*pe should be just as illegal as the crime they’re being accused of. That could ruin someone’s whole life.

This whole thing is sketchy. That’s where I’ll leave it.

[EDIT] I’ve been looking into it. It’s not uncommon for actors to take breaks after the Tony Awards. I don’t blame him for taking a break. I can’t say much about Trevor though. Apparently Shoshana Bean is taking a break too.

[astarionfreak]

For the smut game

1 and/or 13 with A.A. x Gale please?

Oh, fuck. Great idea! Yes. 🧛🧙

1. "I need you inside me."

13. "Please, please let me come."

!! Warning: This deals with chronic pain (Gale still has the orb). Ascended Astarion appears soft on the surface, but there is some sketchy shit going on behind the scenes tbh.

Snippet for the smut ask game. | Previous answers here.

There was no denying that the ascension changed him. Gale sensed the difference immediately. Astarion seemed sharper, leaner, hungrier.

There was also no denying that Gale found him very attractive. Before the power, but even moreso now.

Astarion walked in the sun without fear. The appetites of man returned to him. He ate food in addition to blood -- and although he often chastised Gale for cooking, "There's no need for you to ever lift a finger again, my love." -- Gale found pleasure in the small act of service.

Gale busied himself in the kitchen, putting together one of his favorite meals, when pain got the better of him. He stumbled back from the stove and gestured for one of the many servants to come take over. Wordlessly he retreated to his chambers.

As luck would have it, the aching void that gnawed away within him had remained relatively stable. However -- to put it simply -- it hurt. Some days were worse than others. Today was one of the more difficult ones.

Gale only intended to stay in the Crimson Palace for a tenday, two at most. Just until he located the Netherstones. Then he would return to Waterdeep, where he planned reforging the crown. For himself. Obtaining his own power.

He promised to make a place in the Heavens to share with Astarion. Together, they would be Gods. Better than the ones who had turned their backs on them.

Better than Mystra. Stronger.

Unfortunately, despite numerous attempts, they had been unable to locate the stones. 

Meaning the orb remained. An ever growing threat and -- quite literally -- a painful reminder of his shortcomings. Each day it got worse. The fetid thing was hungry again.

And while Astarion could not hide his displeasure when Gale consumed magical artifacts -- he did continue to provide them when necessary. For that, Gale was extremely grateful.

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t jealous. Astarion had power in abundance while the cursed magic that lived within Gale slowly robbed him of everything.

Gale stumbled into their bedroom, stripped himself of his robes, and lay, clad only in underwear, between soft, silk sheets in their bed. That is where Astarion found him hours later. Curled up into himself, in the quiet, dark room.

Astarion slipped between the sheets. He pressed his firm chest against the other man’s back, one arm snaking over Gale’s body to pull him close. Astarion pressed a ring against Gale’s chest. “I stole this from a patriar today. The absolute fool had the gall to demand I bow. Can you imagine? Me? Bowing to anyone? At least he was considerate enough to be wearing this ring when I cut off his fingers.”

Gale held his breath as he let the magic flow through him, feeding the angry pit. Just enough to settle the storm inside. It wouldn’t be long before it demanded more though.

More. More More. Always hungry. Never sated.

“His mistake is my gain, I suppose,” Gale mumbled. It took him a moment to settle back into his body, the pain subsiding enough to allow him to breathe through the fog. “Thank you for this.”

Astarion’s hands wandered down Gale’s body, beneath the hem of his underwear, fingertips dragging across his skin as he approached his cock. “Well, I simply can’t have you wasting away in bed all day now, can I? It’s unbecoming.”

Gale sighed softly and pressed closer. “I am beginning to suspect something is wrong with me beyond my . . . affliction.”

Astarion bit gently at Gale’s earlobe. “There is one thing we’ve yet to try. I’m positive I could get past the taste if you would just allow me —”

“No, Astarion.” Gale rolled onto his back and met Astarion’s eyes. “We have truly no idea how the orb would react to me becoming a vampire — a spawn, no less. I will forge my own path to immortality.”

“Yes, the Netherstones. You have all but dredged the Chionthar and yet — nothing. Aren’t you a bit curious as to why?”

“Curious? What are you saying?” Gale stiffened as Astarion’s fingers curled around his cock. His lips parted and he gasped as Astarion’s deft hand pumped once, twice over his length. “Is there something you aren’t telling me, Astarion?”

Astarion propped himself up on an elbow, staring down at Gale with a smirk. “I have my . . . theories. Perhaps I’ll divulge them after we’ve indulged in each other.”

Gale tried to study Astarion’s face, searched for the man behind the mask — but it was hard to think when Astarion’s hand was on his cock.

It became even more difficult to think when Astarion pressed his lips against Gale’s. Despite the orb’s increasing instability, he still had this. No amount of excitement seemed to trigger an explosion.

There was little hesitation between them, much unlike the first time they kissed. Now, when they were together, it was with total abandon. As though nothing else mattered. Perhaps that was true.

Gale found himself gasping into Astarion’s mouth when he shifted to straddle him. Then he kissed, down Gale’s jaw, his chest, his stomach. Lower, and lower, tugging his underwear down past his thighs to expose him completely.

Astarion’s eyes were dark with lust. “One rule, darling,” he purred. “The same rule as always. Do you remember?”

Gale curled his fingers in the sheets, prepared to hold himself steady. “I shall not come without permission.”

Astarion smiled, breath warm against Gale’s erect cock. “That’s my good boy.”

Astarion always made unraveling Gale seem so effortless. In this bed, the very words he relied on often failed him. Astarion always reduced him to a whimpering, submissive thing. Tonight was no exception.

Even when the head of Gale’s cock was bumping up against the back of Astarion’s throat, Gale knew he was not the one with control. He would not break their rule. Even if the threat of punishment did seem alluring, at times.

When the sweat dripped down the back of his neck, when his breathing was labored, and when the sheets had become a tangled mess from his squirming, that’s when Gale finally broke. That’s when he began to beg.

“Please, please let me come, Astarion,” he choked out between moans.

Astarion dragged his tongue across the head of Gale’s cock, then looked up at him with a devious grin.

“Perhaps I will. Perhaps I won’t,” Astarion teased. “I could be convinced if you tell me what else you need.”

Gale licked his lips, staring down at the flawless man before him. He knew what Astarion wanted to hear. He wanted it too. “I need you inside me,” he whispered.

“Then you’ll get everything you need, my love,” Astarion purred.