#some of it genetic some of it earned

[elllisaaa]

EARNED IT - P. JONGSEONG

KINKTOBER DAY 4 - PRAISE KINK + MARKING

SUMMARY : after you did a successful presentation for jay's class, he feels the need to reward his favourite student in a very inapropriate way.

-> pairing : teacher!jay x student!reader

-> words count : 1.9k

-> genre : smut

-> warnings : fem!reader, soft dom!jay, praise kink (obviously), marking (on both), little bit of teasing, dirty talk, begging, use of 'good girl', little bit of dry humping, clothed sex, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, implied oral (f. receiving) and cum eating

+ the way i'm depicting jay does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction

-> 18+ content bellow, minors DNI

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.

-> masterlist | ateez masterlist | kinktober 2024

“- And that’s basically how genetic modifications work. Thank you all for listening to my presentation.”

You smiled at the class as some applause erupted, but your smile was mostly directed to Jay. His own smile responded to you, his eyes glimmering proudly behind the lenses of his glasses, and you felt your stomach do flips as he stared at you. 

“- Thank you very much Y/N, you can go back to your place. Next is Sunoo, you can go up to the board and start whenever you’re ready.” 

Despite Sunoo being in the middle of his presentation, Jay couldn’t help stealing glances your way. After all, he did promise you a reward if you did good this time. You kind of failed your last presentation for his class, and Jay knew that you could do a whole lot better if you had the motivation to do so. So he effectively found something that pushed you to give the best of yourself this time - and it worked. 

You were restless for the remaining time of the class, looking at the clock every two minutes in hopes that time would pass by quicker, and nervously clicking your pen. And the fact that you could feel Jay’s eyes on you the whole time didn’t help either. So when he finally announced the end of the class, you were up on your feet almost immediately, though you had to resist the urge to pack up your things too quickly, letting everyone get out before you made your way to Jay’s desk as he locked the door behind the last student. 

“- So… How did I do this time Sir ?”

Your tone was a little teasing, with a hint of suggestion, as you walked closer to him, bypassing his desk, your head tilted to the side as if you were really waiting for an answer from him - an answer you already had.

“- Better, much better. You can be proud of yourself, I can tell you worked hard for this. And I’m proud of you too.”

His words had you clenching your thighs together as a smirk grew on your face. Everytime some praises fell from Jay’s lips, your knees grew weak and you felt yourself melting. It was crazy how little work he needed to put in to make you fold. 

“- I’m glad I’ve met your expectations.

- You did even better than that, Y/N. Come here, so that I can give you what you deserve for being such an excellent student.”

Your eyes sparkled with lust as you took a step closer to Jay, sitting on his lap and letting yourself go to the feeling of his lips devouring yours. You were already wet, your panties soaked both from how much you anticipated what was coming and from how much his encouraging words had turned you on. The frame of his glasses felt uncomfortable against your skin as you tilted your head to the side, letting Jay explore every inch of your mouth, but you didn’t care about that, you just needed him to tell you that you did good. It was something you became addicted to - the way he always found the right words to make you go dumb on him.

And you always did your best when it came to Jay, be that during his classes or when you were on your knees for him - no matter the time, you just had that urge to be good for him, you were always eager to please him. And Jay loved that, loved how you always put your all into your homeworks, and even more when you were doing your best to take him whole. But today, you deserved a very good reward and Jay planned on making you cum over and over. 

His hands roamed all around your body, slipping under your cute pleated little skirt to squeeze at the flesh of your ass. You moaned into his mouth, your back arching and your breasts pressing against his toned chest. You always reacted so vividly to every one of his touches, always squirmed under his fingertips ; and Jay liked to know he had such an effect on you. 

“- I’m gonna make you feel good princess, gonna make you cum on my fingers, and then on my tongue, and then on my cock, yeah ?

- Yes, please…”

Your voice was shaking, interrupted here and there by pants as you unconsciously grinded against his thighs, eyes filled with a desperate lust that made Jay want to ruin you even more. 

“- I don’t ever need to ask for you to say please, such a good girl.”

Jay smirked as he heard you whine at his words. He knew exactly what they did to you, exactly how to rile you up and make you want him more. Your hands were tugging at his shirt in a vain attempt of undressing him, in a vain attempt to touch his naked skin, but Jay pushed your hands away as he lifted you in arms, wrapping them around your waist as he stood up to drop you on his desk. 

“- No touching me this time baby, let me just make you feel good, okay ?”

You nodded as you bit down on your lips, watching closely as Jay slipped back his hands under your skirt, his palms running across your thighs as you sighed in relief. You knew better than to argue with him when he had an idea in mind - and especially when this idea involved you and your pussy. Finally, he pressed against your clit over the material of your panties, bringing you a rush of pleasure that made you whine under your breath.

“- You’re already soaked… So fucking perfect for me.”

Every one of his words made you more desperate, and you both knew it. So when Jay ended up pushing your underwear out of his way to insert one of his fingers inside of you, neither of you were surprised about the way you immediately threw your head back, whimpering his name. And when he added another finger not too long after, you were already trembling on top of his desk. Maybe it was because you were very sensitive, but Jay was also too good with his fingers for you to keep it together. 

“- Jay…

- That’s it princess, let it go, yeah ? Be a good girl and cum for me, cum on my fingers.”

You didn’t need more than that to tip over the edge, clenching around his fingers and making it difficult for Jay to keep moving them, his thumb intensifying the pressure against your clit to compensate for it. He kept his thrusts steady until you were telling him that it was too much. At this point, Jay was barely holding on - seeing you come undone from his fingers only, moaning his name, sitting on top of his desk made something snap in him. He quickly unbuckled his belt, not caring about undressing himself completely, simply getting his cock out and spreading your legs wider. His tip bumped against your already sensitive folds, making you whimper once again as he coated his dick in your slick.

“- You’re ready to take me, baby ? You’re ready to show me that you can be even better for me ?

- Yes, yes, I’ll be good Jay, please…”

Your begs were all that Jay needed to push his whole length inside of you, not thinking twice as he took a hold of your waist for some leverage, instantly starting to thrust into you. You wrapped your arms against his neck, burying your face against the crook of his neck to muffle your moans as his rapid pace made you lose your mind already. 

“- You feel so good Y/N, so tight and nice around me, it’s like you were made for me. Taking me so well… Fuck, your little cunt looks even better when I’m filling you up…”

Everything he said was getting to your head, your hips moving along to match with his thrusts. He wasn’t able to go as deep as usual because of the position you were in, but his thick length felt even better this way - you could feel every drag of his shaft against your walls, stimulating all the right areas to make you moan against his skin. You knew you were being loud, that someone could easily hear the both of you from outside of the classroom, but you didn’t care enough to do something about it. Still, you started to suck some hickeys on the exposed skin of his skin, biting on the flesh sometimes, but it was more in order to mark your territory than for silencing your noises of pleasure.

“- You don’t know how crazy that skirt made me go, all I wanted was to bend you over my desk and fuck you just like this, shit… You’re so perfect, squeezing me so good…”

Jay was more rambling than trying to be coherent at this point, and he knew you were getting closer by the way you were hopelessly holding on to his shoulders as his hips snapped forward at a steady pace. And he was glad because he knew he won’t be able to hold back for much longer either, the way you were marking up his skin was driving him crazy with want, with the need to feel you up and mark you in an even more intimate form. 

“- Are you close princess ? Are you going to milk me dry ?

- Hmm… Y-Yeah, ‘m so close… Please, don’t stop, please…

- I’m not stopping, come on, cum like the good girl you are.”

Jay felt your teeth dig into his neck as you squeezed around him even tighter, and you both moaned in harmony as he let go too, painting your walls white. Your legs were trembling on each side of him as your orgasm crashed over you like a hurricane ravaging everything on its path, and for a moment, you felt like you were floating in another dimension. It was only when you heard Jay call your name that you finally opened your eyes again, you looked up at him with a dazed smile that made him want to fuck you up all over again. But instead, he pulled out of you and got down on his knees, spreading apart your still shaking thighs. 

“- This pussy looks even prettier when it's covered in my cum, don’t you think ?

- I love it too.”

Your words were coming in short breath as you were still trying to come down off your high, but Jay heard them perfectly and he loved the sound of that. His lips soon followed the same trail his fingers had traced before - going from your knee and raising up higher on your inner thigh. Every spot he kissed and licked at was left with a deep, red mark. And every new spot he attacked made you squirm and whimper in his hold. Some of these bruises were going to be impossible to hide behind your little skirts, and your heart swelled with an emotion you shouldn’t feel for your teacher at the thought of someone else seeing them, at the thought of him having the exact same marks on his neck, some marks that you had left there. 

“- Gonna make you mine again. Gonna make you my perfect good girl.”

You moaned again at his words, letting Jay bury his face in between your thighs to eat you out like a starved man. And it didn’t matter if your roommate caught on the marks and asked you about it, and it didn’t matter either if another student called out Jay for the bruises that were visible above the collar of his white shirt. It didn’t matter because you were his good girl.

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my work.

kinktober masterlist (comment or dm to be added) :

enha masterlist (fill in this to be added) :

@bbgnyx @hann1bee @heevllog @puppy-minnie @binniesbabygirl @foxinnie8 @lala-----------lala

@d-dilemma @bath1lda @anxiousskylar

[nymphomatique]

simulacra

atsv!miguel x fem!reader x comic!miguel

im no geneticist so please forgive me for any incorrect science terms 😁 i have no words for this one i wrote this with my pussy. enjoy! 

cw: bunch of word vomit before we get to the sex, miguelcest? two miguel’s like eachother very much, comic!miguel x fem!reader x atsv!miguel, boys kissing, reader fujoshing out, cunnilingus, ass eating (f receiving), blowjobs, ball sucking, handjob, fingering, squirting, voyeurism/cucking?? idk one watches for a bit, double penetration, anal fingering, unrealistic anal 🫡, nipple sucking (f), cum eating, honestly just vibes all around!

wc: 7.9k. im sorry.

—> so this was originally supposed to go up like several weeks ago with a note that i would be gone for school + summer classes (that i just finished!!!) but turns out i drafted it instead of queuing it like a fucking idiot 😁!!!!!! nonetheless, i’m so sorry for the wait. enjoy. 

“This is ambitious, even for you Miguel.”

“The worse that could happen is there’s no other dimension, then we take our dinner after this experiment.”

“You’re paying.”

“Only if I’m wrong.”

Geneticist by day, interdimensional scienctist by night, Miguel O’Hara proceeds as one of Alchemax’s brightest employees. A ground breaking research paper with a thesis on the future of genetics and their ability to be bioengineered and spliced with those of non-mammals earned him the title of lead geneticist, nothing short of prodigal in comparison to his peers. 

You and Miguel met two years ago during your internship for Alchemax, studying yourself to become a geneticist after reading Miguel’s thesis paper in your freshman year of college. Miguel is a famed alum of Nueva York University,  the science department’s crowning achievement in all its years of standing. When you had heard that the genetic science department had opened internship applications for Alchemax, you had been ecstatic. Not only would you have a chance to intern at the company of your dreams, but also get the chance to meet one of your academic idols. Needless to say, when you had read the words “Congratulations! You have been accepted and offered an internship position to study within Alchemax’s genetic science and engineering department.”, to say you were excited would be an understatement.

In the two years you’ve spent interning at Alchemax, you and Miguel have developed a close relationship to say the least. It had been a divine stroke of luck perhaps when you learned that you would be working along side Miguel as a lab technician, you had felt like you died and gone to heaven. Seeing framed photos of the scientific genius in his earlier years had no comparison to seeing him in person. To be crass, he was fucking sexy. Tall, extremely tall, broad and muscular in stature, and tan all over. Brooding eyes and a seemingly permanent frown of dissatisfaction present on his round lips, it was safe to say you had developed a slight workplace crush. 

Nevertheless, it seemed to be an unrequited infatuation. Miguel never seeming to want to talk to you about things beyond the study of deconstructing cells on an atomic level or changing the structure of somethings molecular composition, he seemed beyond disinterested in you. Still, you enjoyed the stolen glances and the misinterpretations of a touch or a word or a glance. It’s like a secret you have kept to yourself. 

It wasn’t all distaste on Miguel’s part however, after some time with him he began to share some tidbits out his personal life, rather reluctantly however. You caught him one day in the lab after hours, you had decided to stay late to work on a test subject, a spider with more than one type of species’ cells, an epigenetic experiment of yours. You were about to leave the lab when you saw Miguel hunched over his desk in his office fidgeting with a gadget you’ve never seen before. A rather crude looking watch, various types of wiring and exposed circuits coming together to form it. 

It was then he had explained to you his after hours personal project; inter-dimensional travel. To think he was ambitious was the least of your thoughts, you concluded in your head that he was downright stupid to think something like that is feasible on a level of understanding basic science and physics. But after witnessing the messy blueprints and nights of coffee and energy drinks, night after night, seeing how truly dedicated he was at just wanting to believe the idea of inter-dimensional travel, you had no choice but to indulge in him, your bubbling crush gave you no choice to object. 

So nights of him alone hunched over his desk, became late nights of both of you hunched over his desk together, fidgeting with formulas and logistics of opening a window to an entirely different universe. 

Sometimes you brought coffee, and sometimes he brought late night dinner (that he made in his kitchen) for the both of you. Regardless, the both of you had developed a work relationship, platonic of course, in the two years you’ve been present at Alchemax. You had even shared with him a draft of your own personal work for your final thesis before you graduate; the possibility bio engineering spider DNA with human DNA after your successful test of cross species creation of two types of spiders. To your surprise, Miguel had taken great interest in your work, even helping you with your thesis. It made it hard to not develop feelings for him under circumstances like this.

Tonight has been no different than any other. The two of you sat together in his personal office, gearing up to test a new iteration of the dimension opening watch, more sophisticated than one of the prototypes you walked in on Miguel tweaking at all those months ago. 

“Did you set up the tripod?”

“Check.”

“And the-“

“Yes, Miguel,” you drawl out, “the recorder is set as well. Can we get the started now? I’m tired and hungry. I’m counting on that burger.”

Miguel’s face goes stale and you hold in a laugh. You really love how easy it is to piss him off. “Get in position so we can start.” The fluttering thought of you and Miguel setting up and getting in position for a different type of movie crosses your mind and you blush a bit. Focus! You move behind the camera set up, and press record, signaling for Miguel to start the video log.

“Miguel O’Hara. Time is 22 hundred and 27. This is watch prototype 14-B. With this experiment, I hope to be the first person on earth to discover inter-dimensional travel.” 

You give a very subtle clear of your throat behind the camera and Miguel sighs and rolls his eyes. “I’m also accompanied by my lab technician.” You peek your head around the camera and wave with a smile. Unmoved, Miguel prepares to start with the experiment. A nervous glance to the camera and he twists the mechanism of the watch to the on setting. There’s a moment of silence, the room tense with anticipation, the silent clanking of gears filling the room, until its stops. There’s a short pause in hoping, anticipating something would happen but nothing. Miguel breaks the silence. 

“Attempt number 34 is a conclusive failure.”

“Knew you’d be buying me dinner tonight,” you quip, walking away from the camera, ignoring to turn it off. 

Miguel rolls his eyes at your comment shucking off his lab coat for the day. “Hurry up so we can catch the cafeteria before it closes.”

You’re hot on his heels, leaving the lab sauntering behind him.

“Attempt number 34 is a conclusive failure.”

“Knew you’d be buying me dinner tonight.”

Miguel was perplexed. Where are those voices coming from? 

Sat in his apartment, a glass of scotch on the rocks in his hand, with soft jazz lulling in the background. After a long day of hero work, the unwinding was needed, so such a rude interruption calls for investigation.

“Lyla?” He calls out softly, and with flitting of light she appears. Soft features and blonde hair all an illusion of light. 

“Yes?”

“Inspect where those voices are coming from.”

“On it,” and she’s gone once more. 

A sip of scotch luls the bulging nerve beginning to head at Miguel’s temple. With a sigh, and another curt sip, he gets lost in the soft jazz, the saxophone carrying him away just for a moment. Until..

“Miguel?” Lyla rouses him from his reverie, and he’s reminded of where he is. “I’m not sure where the sound is coming from. But I am sensing waves of molecular abnormality and instability, suggesting that someone could be-“

“Dimensional travel,” Miguel cuts. “Shock. Who do you think’s behind this?” 

“I’m not too sure, but I am worried. I’ll look into it further.” Lyla disappears once more within a moment. 

“For shock’s sake,” a sigh and thick fingers come up to pinch his nose bridge. This is the last thing he needs. He stands from the couch and is suddenly taken aback at the intense shaking in his penthouse. “What the sh- Lyla!” he calls out, but as the shaking continues she’s nowhere to be seen. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. A bean of light shoots up from under the ground and blinds Miguel. He’s so fucked if he ends up in the hands of some villain. The floor splits from under him, swallowing him and spitting him out into a void-tunnel-like space, an amalgamation of orange, yellow, red, and pink lights. He feels like he’s everywhere and nowhere, all and nothing at once. He simply closes his eyes and braces himself for wherever this decides to drop him. 

Glass breaking alerts Miguel all the way from the cafeteria. 

“Did you hear that?” He stalls mid conversation. Quiet. Listening. 

You’re confused. “No? How good is your hearing you think you hear things from down here?”

“Sensitive hearing,” he says, still unmoving. There’s another pause, until he starts packing up his food to go. “Stay here. I think someone is in the lab.”

Your eyebrows pull together. “You don’t know me as well as I thought. I’m investigating with you, let’s go.” 

Miguel looks at you and any argument dies with the deadpan look you give him. Silently, he walks back to the lab and you’re just as silent, following behind him.

First, Miguel thinks he’s in a hospital. The white lights and broken vials he landed on making him think he fucked up some poor doctor’s office. Then, he looks around and he knows it’s not a doctor’s lab. The bunsen burners and scribbles upon a rolling chalk board riddled with math. Then, he sees the abandoned lab coat embroidered with the word ALCHEMAX. How did he end up here? That’s when he hears it. Hulking footsteps, followed by a lighter tread. Shit. Shit. Shit. He had no gear on. The footsteps were getting closer. He thinks fast, grabbing a piece of a broken beaker in his hand. 

The lab door swings open and that’s when he sees the both of you. Him and the stranger in front of him look at each other. Perplexed. You’re like me. Different. It’s unspoken. There’s a pause before you emerge from behind the large man and Miguel looks at you up and down, glossing you with his eyes. Cute, he muses silently. You raise a brow at him blatantly checking you out before you speak.

“Care to explain what’s going on here, or should we call security and let them deal with you instead?” A hand rests on your hip as you pose the question. A feisty one, he can tell. 

Miguel sits up and drops the glass. “I.. don’t know how I got here or how. One minute I was in my house and the next..” he shrugs and looks around.

You freeze, looking at the tall man before you both. “You don’t think.. do you?” And he freezes at the question a beat after you ask it.

“It worked.” 

“So, uh,” Miguel clears his throat. “Care to clue a guy in?”

You think you’re losing your mind. You can’t believe it worked. A person, a man, from another dimension is here. In your lab. You and Miguel did this. You want to burst with excitement and vomit in fear at the same time. 

Holy fuck, dimension travel is real. We did it. We fucking did it. 

You introduce yourself and your lab partner to the strange and is face goes staunch.

“What did you say..?”

“This is my- my lab partner Miguel. Miguel O’Hara.”

“No shocking way.. I’m Miguel O’Hara.”

It’s your turn to go staunch next. “You’re- what?”  It’s now you take a moment to look, really 

look at the other Miguel. First thing you notice is he’s drastically shorter that your Miguel, sitting at five foot eleven compared to the staunch six feet and nine inches of your Miguel. Then, you look at his face. Same brown tresses but less wavy, coiffed in a messy side look instead of the slick back you’re used to seeing. Still, you can’t deny his attractiveness looking at him. Some things seem to carry on between dimensions, like the same thick eyebrows, slightly tanned skin, and soft looking lips in a pout. You trail your eyes down his strong nose to his thick shoulders, muscles visible even through a plain white tee shirt. The small of his waist and the thick of his thighs strained against his denim jeans have your mind trailing off for a moment, with very inappropriate thoughts to have about a coworker and a stranger. 

Miguel, your Miguel, has barely said a word, brooding over you and his tether silently. “Yeah. And this is Alchemax, yeah? My father owns this company where I’m from, the piece a’shit. Lyla would lose her head at this.”

Miguel decides to speak finally and it scares you a bit. “Did you say Lyla? As in Lyrate Lifeform-“

“Lifeform Approximation, yeah.” 

“Brother?”

“Gabriel, the pain in the ass he is.”

Miguel’s in disbelief. “No way this is- I did this.” He looks at you for a second and away, like he’s thinking, contemplating.

“Are you.. do you take it too? Rapture?” he chooses his words carefully, and you’re confused. Rapture? 

“Yeah,” he nods. 

You look between the two men, a bit flustered to be honest, and clear your throat, trying not to blush when they look at you. “Sorry to be that guy here gentlemen but uh- how do we get him back?”

“I think the pretty little scientist is right here, my brother. I think you know as well as I do why I can’t stay here for too long.”

He does. A dirty little secret he’s kept from not only you, but all of Nueva York, is that he’s the one and only Spider-Man. Not only does rapture need to be sated, but crime doesn’t allow for vacation time in this line of work. Left to its vices, Nueva York may very well burn itself from inside out.

“Get me the watch,” your Miguel asks you. You twiddle off to the office with broken glass and loose paper rattled all over the floor, picking up the watch in all its fried-wire glory. You grimace, before getting up to leave when you notice the camera from the video logs on the floor tucked away behind a fallen chair. You remember that you forgot to turn it off before you left for lunch. You bring it in jest, hoping maybe there’s something valuable on film. If not, you get to watch Miguel look incredibly handsome in his lab coat again, and you can’t complain about that. 

It’s quiet between the pair when you return. You can’t help but look at them, thinking how ludicrous this whole situation is, truly. “I still can’t believe you guys are the same person,” you muse aloud, dropping the broken watch on the counter along with the camera. “I forgot to stop recording, might be something worthwhile on that thing.”

“Thanks. We’ll clean up and uh, head to my place. S’getting late,” your Miguel says, dropping the watch in his pocket.

In the two weeks the other Miguel has been here, you’ve learned two things: One, Miguel, the both of them, are Spider-Man. Other Miguel had let it slip, and your Miguel confirmed it to you. Following a brief moment of shell shock, your mind began to race. His stamina is probably incredible, and he’s so big and durable, I wonder what he looks like under that suit. Speaking of that suit, you’ve never not noticed the bulge but knowing it’s been Miguel under there the whole time you bite your lip. You’re so fucked. Second, you were beginning to develop a bit of a crush on the other Miguel. You delude yourself into thinking it’s an enamourment that’s returned, the flirty jokes and wandering exchanges shared between the two of you.

This was something that unbeknownst to you didn’t fly under your Miguel’s radar in the slightest. When all three of you are together, you notice the way his muscles in his face pull at the borderline vulgar double entendres his doppelgänger makes towards you. The twist of his lips, the hard swallow in his throat. Is he… jealous? 

“Red or white?” you hear the other Miguel over the couch ask, and the question grounds you. You’re over at Miguel’s place, in attempts to figure out what missing code is needed to finally send Miguel’s other back to his original dimension. You had showed up on time, but Miguel had been running late with Spider-Man duties, so you and his tether found yourself plenty occupied within the wine cabinet, stocked with aged reds and whites. 

“Red,” you reply back. “What bottle is that? If it’s expensive he’ll kill you.”

“Chateau Cheval Blanc. 1947. Aged to perfection,” Miguel says, walking towards you at the couch with two large rounded glasses in hand accompanied with a rather expensive looking wine bottle. When he rounds the couch you quirk an eye at him. “All the bottles he has are expensive. And technically, they’re my bottles too.”

You roll your eyes and can’t help but smile. With a pop, the champagne bottle opens, and the smooth pour of amber liquid fills your glass. 

At the first sip, it’s tart, a slight edge to the wine. But with each sip, the notes of fruit and full bodied taste of it begins to hit your taste bud. As you sip, conversation between you and Miguel follows. He tells you about his own perils as Spider-Man, his troubled home life, romantic life, and everything in between. 

You laugh. You sip. Your glass empties, and he refills it. You’re warm. Your eyelids become heavier. You’re blinking slower. You’re chewing your lip. You’re nervous.

You’re nervous to be alone with Miguel like this. You’re scared of his charm, his dry humour. His chiseled jaw and rounded lips. You really wanna kiss him.

You realize he’s been talking to you this whole time, sat across the couch, droning on about his own LYLA. You feel the heat in your stare, and you wonder if he can too. You can’t help but look at his lips while he’s talking, his tongue peeking out in a flash of pink to wet his lips after a prolonged sentence. 

Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me. 

Your hand slowly comes up towards Miguel’s face and the words slowly die out of his mouth until he’s silent, staring at you like you’ve been staring it him. 

“S’good wine,” you say, rubbing soft circles into his cheek. 

“Yeah?” he asks, and you nod and bite your lip. “How comes, baby?” You blush. He’s teasing you now. This is exactly what you wanted.

“Makes me feel warm.” 

You’re meek in your speech, and Miguel finds it adorable, building up the all too palpable feeling of attraction. “Just warm?” he prods, his turn to run circles onto your skin. You’re glad you worse a dress, you think, as his hand trails slowly up your thigh until his fingers are just centimetres away from where you really want them. Then he begins to caress your upper thigh with his thick hand. You’re beyond the point of wanting a kiss now.

You shake your head slowly. “Not just warm. Needy,” you sigh out. Your hand leaves his face and falls on top of his hand on your thigh, and you pull it up ever so slightly until he’s touching you where you really want it, his fingers simply resting against the fabric of your panties. “Feel needy here.”

“Oh, baby..” he drawls, and he pulls you in with a kiss with his free hand. You feel yourself melt into him, a little dizzy. Whether it’s the wine or Miguel, you’re unsure, but you savour this feeling, scared for it to end. Your lips exchange taste, his mouth tasting of the wine, mint and cigarettes. You can’t help but grind yourself into his fingers, and he finally gets the hint and rubs against the crotch of your panties, coaxing the wetness out of you. Your lips don’t leave eachother, the moment you’ve been waiting for being fuelled but the weeks worth of desire for this Miguel, and years worth of repressed feelings for the other. Your hands comb through his thick brown hair, holding onto him as if he’ll disappear if you let go. Your lips leave his to whisper your words of desire into his ear. You can’t wait anymore.

“F-fuck me, please.”

He groans, his lips making his way to your neck to suck, and when your field of vision clears up you freeze. Miguel is home. Standing in the doorway to his apartment, watching you suck face with his tether. You feel like a kid whose hand got caught in the cookie jar, the strong look of displeasure, anger, at catching you in the middle of defiling his couch. Other Miguel eases up off of your neck with a satisfied face that falls flat when he sees the expression on yours, eyes fixed over his shoulder. He sits up and turns around and freezes once he sees what you see.

It’s unbelievably tense in the room. Your mind feeling like it’s going a mile a minute, while also feeling like you’re unable to produce a coherent thought, a combination of Miguel’s touches and that damned red wine. 

Your mouth opens and closes over and over, until you blurt out some half-coherent apology for making out with his indimensional counterpart in his home. 

“I’ll um- leave.”

You get up and grab your purse, walking past your Miguel on your way to the door, but you’re met with a strong hand on your shoulder. His strong hand on your shoulder. “Sit.” 

It’s all he says. And you do. 

You slowly stalk back to the couch, sat in the middle trying to keep a respectable distance from the other Miguel, considering the embarrassing position you were caught in. Miguel makes his way over to the couch, looking at the wine bottle and wine glasses on his glass centre table. 

“1947. Good year,” he smirks, and you’re feel your stomach twist. What is he playing at?

Finally, Miguel sits beside you, and you feel your face heat up at your predicament. Stuck between a rock and a hard place. 

“I’m not upset about what you two did in here,” Miguel states plainly. He runs his eyes down your neck at the drying spit in between the juncture of it and your shoulder. You look down in embarrassment, but his hand lifts your chin up to look at him once more. “I’m just upset he wasn’t going to wait for me,” he says, brushing his fingers across your cheek and down your chin. You barely have a moment to process what the fuck is happening before his lips crash into yours. Your wine-muddled brain is swirling with so many thoughts but the only one you listen to is the one telling you to kiss him back, so you do. You kiss him back softly, letting him lead you into it. His tongue slips between your lips when you let out a soft moan, and the kiss breaks. Miguel chuckles at your face. He looks beyond you and eyes his twin. “You gonna join or what?”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” other Miguel muses, and grabs your chin to kiss you next. The difference between the two kisses has your mind spinning. One soft but dominating, the other hot and heavy. You want to feel them both forever. You feel another pair of lips on your body, your neck specifically, softly kissing up and down the plane of skin there until the soft kisses turn into lingering nips, and the nips turn into bites and sucks that have you writhing against the couch.

Other Miguel breaks the kiss to move his way down to the juncture of your neck, littering it with bites and kisses as well. The stimulation on both sides feels so good, you can’t help but moan and tilt your head back. With lips preoccupied, a set of hands moves to life your shirt, exposing your bra and the swell of your breasts. Palms move through cups of your bra up, freeing your breasts. They’re only free for so long until a palm envelopes one, and a pair of lips from your neck migrates to your unattended nipple. Your eyes have been closed this entire time, the sensation and sheer circumstance throwing you for a loop. You open your eyes and look down, to see your Miguel sucking and pawing at your breasts, while the other continues to lick and bite at you. You feel sharp teeth graze your nipple and you hiss, your hand moving to the back of Miguel’s head and running your fingers through his brown hair, gripping slightly. He peeks up at your face with a smirk, biting one nipple and pinching the other. Your back arches and you inhale shakily and he chuckles. “Naughty fucking girl. Strip.”

It takes you a moment before your brain processes the words you just heard, but after a moment you realize what he said. Strip. You get up, back facing the two, and you undress slowly, and you become privy the sound of them stripping along with you. you sit back down between the two, hands in your palms and nervous. You’ve had sex before but never this intense, or with two guys at once. 

“Can you get on your hands and knees for me, mama? I want your ass this way.” Your Miguel asks.

Ever so pliant, you obey. Ass up, face down in the other Miguel’s lap. You take the time to look at his dick from where you are and your eyes bulge. He’s not the longest but fuck is he thick. He’s well groomed, his curly pubic hair kept primped and cut at his base. In your reverie, you feel something wet lick up at your slit and it sends a chill down your spine. He’s eating your pussy. Miguel is eating your pussy. 

“Taste so good down here too,” he muses from behind you, inhaling you before diving his tongue deep within you. Your lower body feels like it’s been set ablaze, your nerves on edge and Miguel’s prodding and licking and sucking and rubbing. His fingers circle your clit slowly as he eats you out and you feel like you’re in heaven. 

“I see you’re feeling good, huh baby. Make me feel good too, yeah?” Other Miguel says, caressing your hair away from his face. You nod, and grab his thick cock in your hand, beginning to slowly jerk him off. “Yeah, just like that baby,” he sighs, watching you intensely. You jerk him off for another moment before you lift your head up and lick haphazardly at the tip of his penis, twitching and leaking already. You look up at him as you give his tip kitten licks, and then put the tip in your mouth. “Fucking vixen, you are,” he groans, his hand coming to sit at the back of your head. You bob your head up and down slowly, trying your best not to scrape your teeth against his shaft while your Miguel eats you out so feverishly. You’re sucking and licking as best as you can, reaching a hand around to cup and massage Miguel’s balls, and his hips twitch up and push him deeper in the back of your throat. You moan, at both him and the Miguel behind you, and Miguel notices. He holds your head more firmly before he starts to thrust up into your mouth, fucking your face. Your mouth produces obscene noises, leaking spit around the base of his cock and down your lips. You moan as he fucks your face and suddenly you jolt. A thick finger breaches in you and starts thrusting against your walls, and you can’t help but moan, feeling already full from both ends. One finger becomes two, and Miguel finger fucks you to the pace of other Miguel’s hips. “Taking us so fucking well, baby. Good girl. So good. Take it for us.” You don’t know which one says it, but you keen at the praise. You want more. Your throat feels tight, like you’re gonna suffocate on this thick cock, but you hold out, feeling so good and hot inside. “Almost there baby. Swallow it all.” You muster the energy to flit your eyes up and see Miguel’s eyes closed as he fucks your face voraciously. You feel hot, both at the fingers inside you and the face Miguel is making. With each thrust, your nose hits his pubes and it makes him moan increasingly louder until he thrusts one final time and groans. “Take it for me, baby. Don’t swallow yet, fuck. Fuck!” he moans. He pulls his dick out of your mouth until it’s just the tip your lips wrap around. You breathe deeply through your nose, finally. You let Miguel’s potent cum spurt in your mouth until he finishes and pulls out. 

“Show me,” he breathes. 

You open your mouth and stick your tongue out, showing him the white ropes of cum in your mouth and how groans, pulling you up to his lips to kiss him messily. You’re dumbfounded before you can even realize that your Miguel pulls you away and towards him next, pulling you into a kiss too. His tongue swirls in your mouth before he pulls away from you. “I told you I wanted to share,” he says, before kissing you again. Your head is spinning. You’re not even sure this entire thing isn’t some mega fucked up erotic dream you’re having. You can’t find it in you to care if it is or not for another moment when you feel Miguel grab your hand and wrap it around his cock. Your fingernails barely touch around the girth of him so you look down and holy shit. 

Miguel chuckles at your reaction to his size. He must get this often. His cock is definitely proportional to the rest of him, long and thick all over with a trail of curly dark hair at his base. It’s not as groomed as other Miguel’s but you don’t mind. The leaking, uncut cock in front of has you pulsating inside, and you bend down to lick the precum from his dick. “Such a good girl for me. I don’t even have to tell you what to do,” Miguel says, stroking your hair. You hear movement behind you before lips lick from your clit to asshole, and it takes you by surprise. Your lips pop off of Miguel’s cock and you turn around to see the other Miguel, already semi-errect with a smug smile on his lips. “I-I’ve never.. not there,” you stutter. “Just relax baby. M’here to make you feel good,” a says, rubbing his hand across your right ass-cheek. You nod and go back to sucking off Miguel, feeling the wet tickle of Miguel’s tongue against your asshole. You can’t help but tense as him placing kisses back there. He brings his other hand up to your other ass-cheek and spreads you apart. So vulgar, but you can’t help but find a part of you that likes it.

Miguel spit on your asshole, causing a squeak to leave your stuffed lips, before his plunged his tongue in the hole. Your head starts to fly back before Miguel’s hand stops you and pushes you down, two thirds of his dick down your throat.

“Ah ah, baby. Be a good girl and show me how you suck me off,” he says, rubbing the apple of your bulging cheek with his hand. Be a good girl and show him. With Miguel’s thrusting tongue in your ass, you keep forward and try and fit more of Miguel’s dick in your mouth, sucking him and jerking off what can’t fit in your mouth. “Just like that, baby. Yeah. Make your master happy.”

Your stomach contracts at the word master and something flips in you. You suck his cock until you feel like your jaw is about to dislocate, letting yourself get lost in the praise and the pleasure, feeling an orgasm build up from getting your ass ate. You begin your tremble at the constant stimulation, sucking even harder. Your feel Miguel’s dick twitch in your mouth, an almost there slipping from his lips as you suck and lick and jerk him off. Your hips start to shake when you pull off his dick, placing the tip against your tongue and jerking him, wanting to milk him of his seed.

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum.” Miguel pants.

You brace yourself and open your mouth even wider, jerking him as he cums in your mouth. Miguel’s tart cum falls against your tongue, falling down the side of your face as you hold your mouth open for him. He groans above you and curses. “Swallow it.” And you do. Miguel groans before he leans down to meet you in a dirty kiss, and you can’t hold it in anymore before you’re groaning into his mouth and shivering into him from your orgasm. Other Miguel doesn’t stop licking you, licking up the liquid leaking from your pussy with a salacious sounding moan. “Sweet fucking pussy,” he moans between licks, and you’re trembling at the overstimulation, sending you into a second orgasm. This time, you feel your body tense up, and before you know it, you’re squirting into Miguel’s mouth. You gasp, and move your hips from Miguel’s face, feeling your own liquid leak down your leg. 

“Yeah, baby. So fuckin’ sweet,” the words make your clit tremble, the sheer base in Miguel’s voice twisting and turning, prodding and pulling at your nerves. “Don’t run, lemme finish, yeah?”

Your hips buck up and away wildly but to no avail, Miguel proving to be an immovable force to your constant movement. With every suck and lick, you feel your energy depleted as the pleasure crosses the threshold of pain, the overstimulation making your body go both numb and still. You’re engulfed in a haze, your body going limp against the couch save for your pelvis held up by two very large hands.

Distantly, you hear skin slapping and you flit your eyes up for a moment to see your Miguel jerking off at the sight of you, surrendered fully to them both. Your eyes roll towards the back of your head when you feel the wetness of Miguel’s thick tongue lick up from your clit to your ass, prodding the tight rim of muscle lightly with his tongue. Before you can register what’s about to happen, you feel a gush of wetness leave you and you groan, utterly exhausted simply from foreplay. Your ears pick up on the increased speed your Miguel took in jerking himself off, a groan leaving his lips shortly after your own does. You picture him covered in his own cum, white sketched across his tone and tanned abs, and the mental picture is enough to get you excited again, despite the way your muscles protest.

“Such a good girl, taking my mouth like that.”

You suppose you should answer, but your tongue is limp in your mouth, unable to force a sequencing of words out. Instead, you let out a pathetic sounding moan.

“I want a taste too. Holding out on me, baby?”

You half expect the stimulation to start again, tensing up, anticipating a touch to your sensitive clit. After a beat, you finally notice you’re untouched still, and a part of you is graceful for this recovery time, but the shuffling behind you has you finding the strength to lift your head up and—

Oh my fucking god.

Your brain short circuits for a moment, trying to make sense of what you’re seeing above you.

Your eyes flutter open and close a few times, somewhat of a quick blink to make sure you’re not riding off some ecstasy high that has you imagining things, that has you imagining both Miguel’s kissing. 

It’s slow, and messy at the same time. Your fluids are being lapped up and exchanged by the two men, who lap up and exchange their own saliva as well. You’re struggling to make sense of the eroticism of it, and sheer absurdity of two Miguel O’Haras making out, both mouths wet of your pussy’s nectar. The cognitive dissonance starts to kick your ass a bit, rationalizing the logistics of self incest and it being plain out sexy. 

They break apart, both slightly flushed. Your Miguel eyes you with low, brown eyes while your gaze is transfixed at his wet lips, a singular web of saliva connecting both of the men’s lips as they pull apart. Your breath is caught in your throat and you’ve immediately made your decision about the bullshit logistics of this dimensional anomaly. It’s making you so fucking wet. 

You’re sure Miguel notices your face, as a breathy laugh leaves his plump lips, wet with both you and him and another him.

“Knew you’d taste good.” He winks and smiles a smile that has your legs regaining feeling once more. 

You slowly sit up, straddling yourself in Miguel’s lap. “Want you in,” your hands wrap around his strong shoulders and you lay your cheek against his chest, grinding your sensitive wet lips up and against his dick slowly. You have other Miguel in your line of sight, and you see him watching you both, cock straining against his stomach. It has you feeling warm, thinking of how he unwound you from the inside like that earlier with only his mouth. You can only imagine how it would feel with him inside you. “I- I want you in me too. Please..”

Your voice comes out as meek, but the raunchy display of your hips grinding, face flushed, is anything but. 

“Gotta go slowly, mama. You ready?” Miguel asks you, his large hands resting at your hips now, slowly increasing the friction of your wet pussy lips against his thick cock. You moan a bit, and nod in his chest. The thick tip of Miguel’s dick stretches its way inside your pussy, burning slightly despite how wet you are. You wince in pleasure, savouring the burn of the stretch. Other Miguel sits up and makes his way behind you, kissing your back and neck as you sink down onto your Miguel’s cock.

“Fucking tight,” Miguel groans, just as aroused and affected as you are in all the hazy pleasure. Once you’re fully sat, you can’t help but sit up and look down at your lower stomach, a slight bulge in your lower abdomen. “Holy shit,” you moan. You’re pushed back against Miguel’s chest and you squeak at the sudden movement.

“Gonna fuck your tight little ass, baby. Okay?” 

It’s rough the way he spits it out into your ear from behind you. You can hear the arousal and anticipation in Miguel’s voice. He spreads your cheeks, spitting on your taut hole. “Gonna have to relax f’me, baby. Gonna be a real tight squeeze.”

You wince and hold onto your Miguel as the other one enters you from behind. While his size isn’t as big as your Miguel, he’s still insanely thick and long in his own right. It takes a lot out of you to withstand the entrance. Soft kisses to your temple and shoulder, sweet nothings and whisperings of “You’re doing so well”, “Good little girl” tickle your ears. From who, you’re not sure. But the verbal praise makes the pain worth it with the way a concentrated heat builds in the depths of your stomach from their charged words.

“I’m all in baby, tell me when you’re ready.” You blink once, twice, and exhale a curt puff of breath. You can’t wait anymore. 

“M-move, but slow.”

As soon as the words leave your lips, the rocking of hips start, and you feel everything. The pain, the pleasure, the push, the pull, the sheer unnerving hot heat and sensation the two men bounce you between.

After the initial moment of processing the moment you’re having with these two men, these two Miguel’s, you feel your body become both wracked and accepting of the pleasure. The cant of hips get rougher, the spill of moans and breath get louder, and you start to feel yourself get lost in the raunchiness of it all. Your hands roam up a plane of firm musculature and it has you reeling. Miguel is so manly you can’t help but let it turn you on. 

“Feeling good, hm?” Miguel’s full lips are pulled into a smirk as he fucks up into your pussy and you simply grip onto his biceps as he drives into you harder. One particular thrust has you sitting up and leaving back into the other Miguel, head tucked away into the juncture of his neck as he fucks your ass from behind. “I think- fuck- we broke her, man. Can barely speak.” You can hear the smirk in Miguel’s voice as he says that, but you can’t be bothered to protest, because you feel like if you let them fuck you any longer you’ll enter comatose. 

Hands from behind you roam up from your hips to your breasts, squeezing at the expanse of your chest tenderly. Simultaneously, thick hands plant themselves on your hips, squeezing as they bring you down in time to the upwards thrusts of hips. “Oh my god- I’m gonna c-cum,” you breathe out, feeling your body wind itself up, preparing for another explosive release. The hands at your breasts start to squeeze your nipples, pinching and pulling the sensitive and erect buds, and you squeal. 

“So fucking sensitive, baby.” You know that’s the other Miguel, his lips are directly next to your ear. You turn your face towards his and plant your lips against his, desperate for a kiss. Your lips tingle as he kisses you back and you moan in his mouth, your hands running through his thick brown hair and gripping gentle for support. You’re sure that if you were to let go you’d fall face first into your Miguel’s chest, which wouldn’t be all bad now that you’re thinking about it. 

Your kiss with Miguel breaks when you feel something warm and wet wrap around your nipple- Miguel’s mouth. You gasp, feeling yourself tighten around him inside of your pussy as you watch him suckle at your breast. Lips trail up against your neck and they suck and Oh my god- he bites your nipple and you moan so loud it almost startles you. That signature smirk doesn’t cease to appear on Miguel’s face even with your nipple between his lips, and you’d smack him if he wasn’t fucking you oh so well.

The lips sucking hickeys into your neck stop and the cold air drying the spit there makes you shiver. Miguel chuckles behind you and you feel the reverberation of the sound in his chest up against your back and it makes you feel warm inside. You can’t hold on for much longer if the two keep teasing you like this. “P-please let me cum, I can’t anymore,” you heave out, both exhausted and inexplicably excited.

“What do you say, Miguel. Should we let her finish?” A voice behind you. Your eyes squeeze close at a particularly intense thrust to your ass.

“Mmm, I don’t think she wants it enough.” A gravelly voice from your front says. He unlatches from your nipples. Thick fingers tease at your clit and you keen forward. 

“P- please oh my gosh please let me come I want it so bad-“ You feel like you’re on your knees, begging to two unmerciful gods to turn your punishment into something considerably comparable to a torturing pleasure. 

“Hold on for juuust a little, baby. We’ll make you feel real good, real soon.” 

The thick fingers teasing your clit, which you’ve deduced belong to the Miguel behind you, move on from their teasing to rubbing strong circles into your clit and you feel your legs begin to tremble. The feeling of your body getting ready to unwind feels closer and closer and you feel your ass and your pussy get fucked harder and harder until- 

When it happens you feel disjointed from your body, watching from third person. You can see yourself, squirming and twitching and shaking and squirting again all over Miguel’s couch and lap and they’re still fucking you because they haven’t cum yet. Your body begins to go slack and you fall against your Miguel’s chest, lips grazing his nipple as he continues to fuck up into you fervently. 

“Looks like we fucked you numb, baby,” he laughs and you hear it- feel it in his chest, and you moan lazily. “Oh baby, I know. I’m almost ready to cum. Just a little more.”

“F-fuck, I’m gonna burst back here,” Other Miguel grunts above you. His hips pound roughly for two- three- four more thrusts before his stills into you and you can feel his cum spurt into you and you shiver. Right behind him your Miguel follows fucking his cum into your pussy with a deep and heavy groan. 

“S-So deep…” you breathe out, relishing in the stillness between all three of you. Heavy breathing weighs in the air for few moments before you feel Miguel slowly begin to pull out of your ass, his cum leaking out of you lewdly. You inhale a sharp breath as he moves to sit down on the couch, and that’s when your Miguel lifts you off of his semi-softened cock and onto your back on his lush sofa. 

Your chest rises up and down and your eyes flutter closed as you struggle to catch your breath and wrap your head around what happened, but you barely get a moment’s rest before your knees are pushed up to the side of your head and you’re basically balancing yourself on your shoulders. Your eyes shoot open and you see two heads above you.

“Gotta taste our work, don’t we?”

One mouth against your creampied pussy, one mouth against your cum filled ass. You’re not too concerned about who mouth is where- but them sucking at your holes, licking up their cum and yours too is sending your body into overdrive with the overstimulation.

You focus on the image up above you and your eyes bulge in your head at what you see, with each lick up your mounds, the tongues between the two Miguel’s touch. With each lick their tongues touch longer, and longer, until they kiss once more, exchanging each other’s cum with your in their mouths and you’re sure you’ve begun to witness an orgasm induced hallucination. They finish kissing, lips and mouths wet and messy, and your legs come back down from your head to the soft couch cushions. 

Your mind is absolutely reeling, processing the last few hours up until moments ago, feeling warm in the face already. 

You’re so fucked going back to work.

[thebibliosphere]

Am I reading this right? You have been beating yourself up for not 'working more' and not 'doing enough', but, the mere act of being AT YOUR DESK is extremely painful? Sitting at your work station, just SITTING THERE, caused you PHYSICAL PAIN, but you were still under the impression that you should be able to just 'power through that' to do, what? How much more are you expecting out of yourself? A book a month? Its not like you've STOPPED WORKING. What time table were you holding yourself to???

Here's the thing, my body has always hurt.

Even when I was a child, I was in a lot of pain that was dismissed as either "growing pains" despite the fact that I never got past 5 feet tall at the age of 11 or "attention seeking." So, I learned to stop talking about it. (The trick is now getting me to shut up about it.)

And for most of my teens and twenties, the pain didn't really stop me too much. It was bad, and it sucked, but for the longest time, everyone kept telling me that "everyone" felt that way, so I just sort of learned to power through and hide it under the assumption that "everyone" feels this way.

Well, turns out that was a mistake because my body hit its breaking point, and what might have been a mild genetic disability that could have flown under the radar is now a severe one that greatly impacts my daily life to the point where sitting at my desk causes me pain (because everything causes me pain).

Couple that with some new-age religious trauma about willpower, positive thinking, and whatever the fuck else my parents thought I was capable of as an 'indigo starseed' and the fact that I was trained to mask my ADHD by being a hyper-competent workaholic-- I really don't know what a healthy baseline is.

(I mean, heck, I wrote the first book of Hunger Pangs while literally dying. I assumed it would be edited and published posthumously. Jokes on me because now I've got to edit the rest of the fucking thing.)

I didn't, obviously, and ever since then, I've been trying to learn what a healthy baseline looks like for me post-recovery, and I think I'm doing quite well at it and enforcing my boundaries when people ask too much of me.

But none of that makes up for the shrieking frustration I feel that I can't do the things I want.

I want to be creative and do fun things, but I can't because my body won't let me. I want to write more, but I can't because I'm swimming in brain fog most of the time. Yes it hurts to sit at my desk, but I also need to earn money so the financial burden of everything isn't solely on my partner. (Something which he argues I shouldn't even be worrying about right now, but it's hard not to worry as I watch him work himself to the bone taking care of everything because I can't.)

I promise you, I'm not hustling my ass into an early grave. There is, in fact, zero hustle about how I work. I am very, very slow these days compared to how I used to be. There's no timetable for one thing. I get done what I get done, and that's it.

I'm just perpetually frustrated that my hyperactive brain is trapped in a malfunctioning meat suit. And my blog is where I talk about it and work through my emotions because, well, that's what I've always done long before Tumblr was even a thing. It just so happens now I've got an audience.

[lucimaaie]

ellie as spiderwoman hcs ✧.* au

a/n- honestly was just an excuse for me to watch spiderman again and i took it, kind of switch between would’ve and did idk babes im just having fun atp

playlist | spidey masterlist

she'd have lost her mom at a young age and been placed with joel, who she never gets along with at first, thinking he's just a bil ol meanie who wanted an extra check every month.

that was until he showed he cared, not through hugs and affection in the traditional sense, but making sure she did her homework, picking her up everyday, getting her out of her room, checking on her when she'd been too quiet. "you okay, kiddo?" and "i heard talking helps." he'd say as he leaned on the door frame. eventually, she couldn't help but love him.

absolutely a nerd. though, when she got teased, she didn't exactly back down as expected which landed her in the detention a few times and some talking-to's. but she won and defended herself. no one could be mad at her for that. still, she was smart. she was going to be an astronaut after all. though that dream died in middle school.

high school came and she tried to straighten up. no more fighting bullies, even if they deserved it. she was better than that. she would get an internship, the internship that would line everything up, get her a scholarship so she could study aerospace engineering, get rich and get joel out of the old house on a patch of land with however many sheep he wanted. the same internship that got her bitten by a radioactive spider and shooting webs out her wrists.

words could not describe how much she worried joel when she woke up the day after, crushing her alarm clock, breaking the sink, the shower rack, everything. she skipped that day, hanging out on the rooftop of the house while joel was away stuck between having a panic attack from the sensory overload and telling someone, anyone. she decided on testing them out which earned her quite a few bruises joel luckily chalked up to another fight. "we gotta talk about this fighting thing sometime." she'd roll her eyes, saying something snarky before limping up the stairs. "say what you want but i win," "i heard that!"

also sidebar: ellie as a new yorker...whew. honestly ellie as anything- anyway.

hours or research ensue on cross-species genetics, spiderbites, different types of spiders, everything that made her feel disgusting. she slammed her laptop closed, crushing the poor thing.

it felt like there were a million things to do with her newfound powers but the only two on her mind was impress dina and swing from the rooftops. c’mon, she was 16 with the powers of a freaking spider. who said saving people would the first thing on her mind? she felt powerful, even weirder than she already felt but still powerful.

it was terrible, watching joel get more and more disappointed in her as she got distracted. “i’m a good kid! i just got distracted, gimmie a break.” “i have given you plenty. more than i should’ve. and that’s on me. that's my mistake to make you think that coming home late and fighting and blowing me off is okay.”

“i can't help how i turned out! don't blame me for being a shitty dad.” she yelled before slamming the door and stalking off into who knows where. she didn't even mean it, she was just stressed, she never meant any of it. hours later, she’d wish those words never came out her mouth.

she'd hoped she was having some cruel nightmare when she saw joel laid out on the pavement. "some help me! c-call an ambulance. don't just fucking stand there-" her voice was raw as she screamed out. "c'mon, don't die on me. y-you can't. i'm sorry? is that what you wanna hear? i'm sorry."

she hated the looks of pity, everyone's soft voices. people who never once talked to her suddenly caring. it was all fake. they didn't know her and they sure and hell didn't know joel.

she became another person for a while. quieter, more closed off. sometimes snappy. laser focused on finding the low-life took joel from her. that's when she started wearing the mask. the basic concept of it anyway and it caught on with the people, more than she imagined. ellie scoffed at the name spider-woman at first, thinking it was ridiculous. she wasn't some circus performer, she was just trying to find the killer.

dina as her mj, reaching out to her after joel’s death, inviting her over for dinner, talking to her in class, all of it. it wasn’t the same disingenuous pity she hated, she could feel she cared. so she allowed her feelings to fester. being with her actually helped. it was one more thing to balance with school and the internship and her mission, but it was more person in her life. she needed that.

one day ellie went running towards the trouble. not because joel's killer was there or cause of some adrenaline rush, but because she needed to do something. to not be helpless for once. she wasn't helpless. she hadn't felt completely in control of her body as she webbed a whole bridge back together and pulled cars back onto the surface, but in the end it was a like a high. it still ached to see kids running to their parents and everyone running to their families, but they were all safe. she did that. and that felt better than getting revenge and letting it suck the life out of her. so she'd wear the spandex and the mask and go by the stupid name. only cause it meant something now.

thank you for reading!

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Headcanon/Preference # 35

Gifs NOT mine.

Year posted - 2024

Rating - SFW & NSFW

Reading time (roughly) - 18 minutes

It's been a minute since I've watched all the Resident Evil movies, so some stuff might not be super accurate. Just roll with it my lovelies.

------------------------------

SFW

• You are really Weskers one and only true weakness, and he is both terrified, and enraged by the thought of someone exploiting that fact.

• So obviously he is very tempted to inject you with the virus. But he's worried that it might not bond with your genetics like his.

• So he runs like a million different tests, without your knowledge, to find out if it would undoubtedly bond with your genes.

• When he comes to the conclusion that it will in fact bond with your genes, he feels as if a weight is lifted off his chest...

• Now he's just got to figure out how to convince you to take it.

• If push comes to shove... He might just inject you against your will.

• If that's the case, he will do whatever it takes to earn your forgiveness, and make you understand that this was for the best.

• Wesker would burn a thousand world's to protect you okay. He'd abandon everything he's worked for, if it meant keeping you safe. You are his world, and his one and only.

• He would die for you if he had to, and he will fight to his very last breath to get back to you.

• You literally can have the world on a silver platter. If you want it, simply ask and it's yours.

• Money, power, jewelry, clothes, his attention, hell you simply want food? Weskers gonna pull out all the stops, and make you an amazing dinner.

• Can't bring yourself to ask for what you want, and you'd rather leave hints? No worries Wesker can read you like an open book, consider it yours already love.

• On that note. Wesker is an amazing cook, like seriously good. You'd think he took culinary classes before he got into working for Umbrella. In reality it's just a natural skill he was practically born with.

• He makes cooking complex meals look easy, and to him it is easy, second nature really. And he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy cooking for you, doing anything that makes you happy, makes him happy in return.

• You're also the only person that can get him to open up and talk more. Something's he won't tell you about from his past, but those things he claims are better left in the past.

• Wesker loves reading to you, but he also loves listening to you read to him as well. And when you both wanna read your own books, curling up and spending the evening together reading quietly is perfect to.

• You make him so unlike himself at times. Sometimes even he wonders how you have such an effect on him. Not that he's complaining, he loves it in fact, it goes to show how special you really are.

• If you ever want to just go and get out of the infamous bunker, simply exploring what's left of the outside world. Wesker will let you, he knows you can look after yourself.

• But is he back at the bunker pacing back and forth like crazy? Yeah he totally is... For about 20-25 minutes before he decides he can't handle not knowing, and he goes after you.

• However he won't let you know he's there, he'll simply shadow you unless you really need him. He just needs to be certain you're okay, infected or not he still worries.

• He definitely teaches you how to fight. Hand to hand combat of course, but along with teaching you how to use just about any weapon he can get his hands on... Which is a lot.

• He'll teach you how to drive if you never learned, how to operate a helicopter, small plane, and even a fucking tank just in case.

• Don't know how to swim? No worries love, Wesker will take however long necessary to teach you. Don't have great endurance? He's got you covered.

• He's actually a very good teacher. He pushes you, but he never pushes you to far. He's fair. And he's driven to help you, become an even more amazing you. He's very patient, and very encouraging.

• Wesker loves everything about you. Anything you consider a flaw, he considers incredible. His praise is through the roof. He practically worships the very ground you walk on.

• As stated before Wesker can read you like an open book. So whenever you're scared, he's there to comfort you. Or if you're stressed, he's happy to draw you a warm bath.

• Maybe you're just tired? You know the kinda tired no amount of sleep can fix. Well he's there for you, holding you, letting you rest, and assuring you that he loves you.

• Despite how incredible he is, and how mush pride he has. Sometimes he can't help but feel a bit insecure at times. Are you afraid of his eyes? Of him perhaps? Will you grow bored of him and leave? Is he worthy of you?

• It's rare that these thoughts occur, let alone bother him. But sometimes late at night, while holding you in his arms, he can't help but wonder.

• He pushes those thoughts away, and the following morning you always manage to unknowingly, reassure him that he has nothing to worry about.

• Arguments with Wesker are pretty seldom. When it does happen, typically it's you hollering at him, and him sitting there silently waiting for you to calm down.

• He has raised his voice to you once, but it was brief, and he apologized almost immediately. The only reason he raised his voice, was because he was worried when you did something extremely reckless.

• Wesker is extremely patient, and understanding with you. He knows sometimes you're not quite yourself, whether it's because you're tired, you're hurting, or simply overwhelmed with something.

• If something is bothering you, but you don't want to talk about it. He'll quietly scoop you up into his arms, take you to bed or nearest couch, and simply lay down with you atop him. Petting your hair and simply letting you relax.

• He's seen you cry many times, and he's never once thought poorly of you for it. He knows you've been through a lot, and adapting to this new world isn't easy for you.

• You've seen him cry once. There was an accident while exploring the outside world, and Wesker thought he'd lost you, that he'd failed you, and you'd paid the ultimate price.

• Even as he looked up at you from his position on his knees, tears continued to roll silently down his pale cheeks. You were alive and well, but he was so close to losing you.

• You held him in your arms, and simply let him get it all out in silence. His strong frame, typically as unfazed as a brick wall, shaking as his heart wretched in his chest.

• He'd never known pain like that before, and he was grateful you didn't think any less of him for it. Hell it brought you both closer together, and strengthened your bond in ways he had never considered before.

• Wesker encourages every one of your hobbies, even if it's something he doesn't quite see the appeal of. It makes you happy, and that's good enough for him. He'll find you supplies whenever he leaves the bunker, and really anything he thinks you might like.

• The beginning of your relationship was odd. Before you started dating, Wesker would follow you around like a grumpy cat. Acting like you mean nothing to him, but always insisting on being near you.

• Actually there are a lot of reasons you could compare Wesker to a cat. And if you ever tell him that he denies it admittedly, all the while practically purring as you toy with his hair absentmindedly.

• He'll literally be staring at you without his sunglasses, and his slit pupils are now wide and round. And the moment his attention is drawn elsewhere they shift back into thin slits.

• Wesker has a secret sweet tooth, and again if he's called out on it, he'll deny it to hell and back. Even if he has a sweet in his hand, or even his mouth. You can't prove anything!

• Will definitely steal food from you just to tease you, a playful smile on his face the entire time. Actually he steals all sorts of stuff from you just to taunt you, and he absolutely loves it when you chase after him trying to get it back.

• Will he use his power to speed away? Possibly. But he honestly enjoys letting you think you can really catch him.

• Aka he enjoys playing cat and mouse, but you never know who's the cat, and who's the mouse until the cat gives chase.

• All in all he loves you with every fiber of his being, and he would follow you anywhere, and do anything for you. It doesn't matter what you might say or do at times, you are his everything.

NSFW

• Oh and before you ask, yes the cat and mouse play, is something that occurs in the bedroom. And again it varies on who's the cat and mouse depending on yours and his mood.

• Wesker enjoys all sorts of role playing. Acting like he's the STARS Captain, that needs to do whatever it takes to get you to confess to a crime. Being the good doctor who must cure your mysterious illness.

• And even acting as if the virus has altered his mind, and made him into a mindless sex crazed beast. He especially enjoys this one, because it plays into his breeding kink.

• This man wants to breed you so so bad. It's partly a side effect of the virus, but he's always had an interest in it long before he injected himself. Now with you as his love, he feels as if he needs to breed.

• Rough sex, slow sex, quickies, you name it he wants it. His sex drive is high now that you're together, but he is very patient if you don't want sex as much as him.

• Wesker is incredibly romantic, and he loves spoiling you. He's a giver through and through. So that being said if he could live the rest of his life, with his face buried between your thighs he would.

• Oral is a must anyhow. Wesker is big, he's well aware of this fact, and he doesn't want to hurt you. So he'll spend at least a half hour between your legs just prepping you.

• And boy does he know what he's doing. You often loose count of how many orgasms he pulls from you.

• From base to tip he is roughly 7.9 inches long, and 2.1 inches wide. The tip is very prominent, and he is surprisingly uncircumcised. His cock also leans a little to the left when hard.

• His cock is a pale as the rest of his body, but when he's hard the head gets very pink. He has two very prominent veins that feel absolutely divine.

• Wesker loves cockwarming so much, sometimes he insists on sleeping with his cock still buried in your heat. But his favorite time is when you're sitting together reading.

• He's such a tease when you're cockwarming. Giving the occasional thrust just to hear you whine needily. He will pump load after load into you, and keep you plugged up with his dick, even if you are sensitive.

• Aftercare King GOD! He will massage your sore muscles, clean you up, run you a soothing bath, bring you a snack and plenty of water or maybe some soothing tea. He'll whisper sweet nothing's into your ear, praise you, and remind you of how much he truly loves you.

• You just wanna cuddle afterwards? Perfect it'll give it time for his seed to work its way deeper. Want a bath or shower immediately after? That's okay too, he'll change the sheets while you do so, then join you once he's done.

• You can always tell when he's horny, not only by the way he'll paw at you, or the evident bulge in his pants. But also because his eyes glow exceptionally bright, and the slits of his eyes are wide.

• He sounds like a beast as he nuzzles into you, growling and purring as he tries to coax you into helping him out.

• That being said Wesker is very vocal. He moans, growls, purrs, and spews praise the entire time. He isn't super loud about it, as he prefers to have his face buried in your neck, but sometimes he will get a bit loud. Typically that's when he's really needy.

• When he's extra needy, he whimpers so much. It's so fucking hot when you get him all worked up like that. Making him weak and needy, whimpering and begging you for his release. It's divine, and makes you feel so very powerful.

• He loves loves loves making you loud as fuck. His goal is to make your voice horse by the time he's done. Especially if others might be around. He needs them to know who you belong to, and ensure no one is dumb enough to try anything.

• Wesker takes so much pleasure in fucking you dumb. And when you get cock drunk, he's so fucking proud. He will make an absolute mess out of you, and then praise you for being so good for him.

• There are very few things he isn't willing to try with you. He isn't willing to share you with anyone... With the exception of a clone of himself... He will fuck you roughly, but he doesn't take it to far considering his strength, and the amount of damage he can inflict with little effort.

• He does enjoy bondage, both for you and himself. And yeah he could break out of his binds very easily, but why would he, he's enjoying you taking control, and using him for your pleasure. His favorite technique of binding you is with a straitjacket, and it plays into some of his favorite role playing stories.

• Wesker will fuck you anywhere at any given time, seriously he has no shame, just ask and he is yours. That's not to say he won't kill anyone for interrupting or catching you. Your pussy is for his eyes only.

• While he loves pumping you full of his cum, he will never pass up an opportunity to cum on your tits. Especially if you beg for it so sweetly, I mean he loves fucking your tits anyhow. So if you want him to paint your breasts with his cum, who is he to deny you?

• But if you don't ask him to cover you in his cum, or cum in your mouth. Wesker is gonna stuff you with his cock and finish in your warm cunt. Even if he only gets the tip in before he starts to unload, as long as he's inside your heat he's satisfied.

• That isn't to say he won't make you eat his cum. His favorite way of doing that, is to cum inside your pussy, finger you until you cum, and make you suck on his sopping fingers. Sometimes with his gloves on, because he knows you love the leather.

• If you're together before being locked up in the bunker, Wesker is not above letting you suck his cock at his desk. In STARS or Umbrella, he is yours to do with as you please. And if he can return the favor while you're at work, he's more than happy to.

• Wesker also loves seeing you wearing his clothes so much, that it often gets him all hot and bothered, and he's on you real quick like.

• When you inevitably fall pregnant, Wesker is the first to know. He knows before you know. He could sense the changes to your body, and eventually he could hear the extra heartbeat.

• But he'll wait for you to figure it out, and come to him. And like a good lover, he'll act surprised by the news, because he knows it'll make you happy.

• He praises every change your body goes through, some of which he seriously adores. Like how your hips widen a bit, and your breasts swell with milk for the babe.

• He will pamper you 1,000% more than he already did, waking you up most days with his tongue buried in your sweet pussy. And when your breasts grow heavy and sore, he's there to relieve the pain.

• Lactation kink unlocked!

• Initially it started with him massaging your sore breasts, but as he watched milk bead from your tender nipple, he instinctively licked it clean.

• You moaned, he growled. And within seconds your nipple was in his hot greedy mouth. Wesker groaned at the taste of your milk, tweaking your other nipple until it began leaking.

• He played with the milk for a moment before swapping breasts. Back and forth he went until he was satisfied, and the pressure in your breasts had subsidied.

• He kissed you hungrily afterwards, letting you taste your own milk. Before kissing his way down your body until he reached your sex, eating you out as if he were starved.

• Wesker fucking loves pregnancy sex. He loves holding your swollen belly as he makes slow sensual love to you. He loves how extra responsive you are, and how extra sensitive your body is.

• He is very attentive and will help you in the shower or bath, and when your all cleaned up, he can't help himself and he will finger you to climax.

• And when it gets to hard to shave yourself, Wesker is happy to lend a helping hand. Which unsurprisingly ends with him licking your pussy.

• Forgot to mention it before, but Wesker enjoys eating pussy very messily. It's so obscene the sounds he makes as he licks and slurps at your sex, growling and moaning as he dose so.

• The sounds are so obscene you often find yourself blushing like crazy. Even though you tend to suck his cock all noisily as well, something he takes great pleasure in of course.

• Wesker loves having you ride his face, when you're pregnant and when you're not. Don't worry you can't hurt him, so grind away. He'll keep a firm unrelenting hold of your hips, so you don't gotta worry about falling or anything like that.

• Once your child is born, Wesker is eager to get you pregnant again, after you've healed up of course. Although if you would rather wait a while, he'll comply to your request.

• So he'll cum on your belly, on your tits, your butt, your back, or down your throat. Wherever you want really. But he will beg you to let him breed you again, eventually. He can't help it, he needs to breed you.

• If you downright refuse, then he's gonna get you into anal if you aren't already. So he can atleast cum in your ass if you won't let him cum in your pussy anymore. But again he will still try to convince you at some point to let him cum in your pussy again.

• He needs it, don't be mean.

------------------------------

Movie Wesker is a dreamboat okay! I freaking love Shawn Roberts, and he looked so good as Wesker.

[romaevelizz]

Thinking about dad!Tenya UGH IVE HAD THISNIN MY MIND ALL DAY!!

Blkfem!reader not proofread!

.˚₊‧ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ‧₊˚.

How when Tenya gets home he sees her holding their son Elijah as she cooked breakfast. The normally loud and bubbly 3 year old sulking in her arms. His little girl sitting Elani sitting at the counter,

“Hi Daddy!” She said.

“Hi Princess.” He spoke kissing his daughter’s face.

Walked around the island giving his wife a kiss then asking “Elijah what’s wrong?” He spoke his hand rubbing his sons back giving his a kiss in the back of the head.

“He bumped his head.” She spoke leaning her head in her sons.

Tenyas gave her a look only shaking his head. “Are you okay Elijah?” He asked after earning a glare from his wife.

He shook his head. “Alright buddy how about you go sit up at the counter with your sister.” He said garbing him from under the arms setting him in the floor letting him go sit next to his sister.

After he looked at you, “you have to stop babying him my love..” he whispered his hand touching her waist softly.

“I can do what I want he’s my baby, plus he ran into a wall twice…” she said.

“He ran into a wall?”

She shook her head flipping the pancakes.

“I think we should get his eyes checked Tenya.”

“He to young to tell.” He said standing close to her. His hand still touching her, as she cooked.

“Pfft- how old where you when your mommy put you in glasses?” She smiled looking up at her husband who adjusted his glasses.

“Well..”

“Exactly, Ten I can’t have my baby running into things and look at him he keeps rubbing his eyes.” She spoke.

She looked at her husband who was still beat up from work. “My love what’s wrong?”

“I don’t want him getting made fun of at school just because he inherited on of my poor genetics.” Tenya spoke quietly watching the twins talk back and forth as they ate their pancakes and banana slices.

She only smiled softly “baby there is no such thing a poor genetics, is his ill? Is he deaf? Any diseases? no he’s just fine he a healthy little boy who has his daddy’s red eyes and the sight that comes with them.” She spoke her hand trailing up his arm.

He chuckled lightly bending down kissing her softly.

“Ewww.” The twins said in unison.

“Oh you don’t like that? Are we ruining your chocolate chip pancakes?” She teased giving Tenya another kiss.

“Mama stop that!!”

Tenya watched as his wife leaned back letting her finger tap on her chin shrug her shoulders “mmm, no.” And gave him another kiss.

“Was none for us..” Elani spoke her little lip poking out.

“You guys want some kisses?” Tenya sake moving around the counter with his wife as the both attacked the twins faces with kisses.

The Twins gigglled manically as Tenya and her kissed them.

[postazkabansiriussupremacy]

Okayyy but hear me out. Sirius as a twin dad. One girl and one boy.

The toddler years include (and are not limited to):

♡ Lots of fighting and quarrels between the two of them. Little kids have big emotions, and they aren’t afraid to express them.

“Come here, little love, let me fix your hair.” Sirius coos at his little girl, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her into his lap. “Your mummy will have my head if I let you run around with a bed head all day.”

Charlotte squirms and tries to make a quick getaway (“Noooooo, Daddy!”), but eventually settles and allows Sirius to run a brush through her tangled hair. She—like her brother—was genetically gifted with the Black family hairline: thick, wavy, and easily matted if left to its own devices.

Whilst trying to get a particularly stubborn knot out of the girl’s hair, Sirius is startled by the sudden sound of his son, Sammy, zooming by on his toy broomstick.

“Hey!” Charlotte protests, slipping out of Sirius’s grasp. “That’s mine!”

“No, it’s not!”

“Yes, it is! Get off now!”

“Oh, Merlin..” Sirius sighs, rubbing his face with the palm of his hand. “Here we go.”

♡ Parenting is a full time job, and you don’t get to clock out even after the children are off to bed.

In the midst of undressing yourself for nighttime, Sirius creeps up behind you and snakes his hands around your midsection. His stubble tickles the crook of your neck, causing quiet giggles to escape your mouth.

“Mrs. Black.” He greets quietly, pushing your hair aside and leaving some kisses along your shoulder. “Ready for bed?”

Leaning back into his chest, you tilt your head and smile teasingly. “I think so. My husband should be home soon though.”

Sirius moves with quickness and ease, scooping you up bridal style and carrying you to bed. “Then there isn’t time for waiting.”

You laugh as Sirius lies you on the mattress, neither of you noticing the little footsteps making their way into your bedroom. As Sirius climbs on top of you, he just as quickly rolls off once he hears the bedroom door click open. A little voice calls out, “Mummy? Daddy? I had a bad dream.”

“Damn.” Sirius curses quietly, earning a light slap on the chest from you. Sirius reaches his hand out and scoots over to make room on the bed, his tone shifting to comfort his son. “That’s all right, sweetheart, come on. You’re safe; Mummy and Daddy will protect you.”

Once Sam is safely tucked in between the two of you, the door clicks open once again. A second little voice speaks out, “Where’s Sammy?”

And before you know it, four bodies are squeezed tightly together on yours and Sirius’s bed. Charlotte and Sam snore quietly, and you hear Sirius whisper “You awake?”

“Of course.” You chuckle quietly, your ass hanging off the side of the bed. “I’ve never been more uncomfortable in my life.”

“I don’t know about that. Azkaban was pretty uncomfortable.” Sirius deadpans.

“Fuck you.” You grin, still whispering as to not wake the children. “I can never win when you pull that card.”

“I know.” He smiles, never happier to be where he is than right now.

[urgonnaneedabiggership]

Could you make a fic where Miguel gets the female reader pregnant and they're happy but he's worried about her safety? Maybe have a villain find out? Cause some angst?

Risk Something (You're Losing Me)

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara (Spiderman: Across The Spiderverse) x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Language. Spoilers (Miguel's backstory is mentioned). Angst! Alert!, Unplanned pregnancy!Alert.

Word count: 4.3K

A/N: Since I had already established some background and emotional intimacy, I thought I could write this as a sort-of-sequel to my previous one-shot Host of a Ghost. I was so excited to write this, especially because I don't usually write angst but I like to push my boundaries and leave my confort zone. Hope that it pays off and, of course dear anon, that you like it <3

Part III

You’d never really believed in long-distance relationships. After being witness to so many unsuccessful ones, you’d cataloged the entire concept into a box labeled “certain failure” and tucked it away in the back of your head. And yet, with an inconsistency worthy of your friend Hobie, you’d gone and gotten yourself involved in no less than an interdimensional relationship.

How? Well, that was a good question.

All it took was five simple steps:

Step one: Live a regular life. Go to school, graduate, and try to go for a Ph.D. that gets you working near genetically modified insects for just the right amount of time for you to become careless enough to let one crawl onto your backpack, take it to your apartment, and let it sting you. Throw in some negligence, forfeit going to the hospital, and go on about your afternoon. Warning, some side effects like loss of consciousness or intense headaches can be expected.

Step two: Congratulations! You’ve now become a super-powered person with abilities that range from climbing walls and performing gravity-challenging parkour to creating a sticky web-like element that helped you swing from one building to another. Toy around with your new talents, and grow comfortable with them before realizing that you can actually use them to be the much-needed help your city needs.

Step three: Turns out you’re not the only one with this kind of ability out there. There’s a whole Spider-Society full of similarly enhanced people who try and do their best to keep their own dimensions safe, and you’ve not only caught their eye but have actually been invited to join them. Let your new guide Jess Drews show you around, and explain all the benefits that come from joining a team such as theirs. If you decline, you can go back home and that’ll be all.

If you’re interested, it’ll be necessary to convince the leader but they could use some extra help so it shouldn’t be particularly hard. It sounds like an amazing chance. Information you wouldn’t have access to otherwise, mind-blowing facilities where you can polish your newly acquired abilities, possible new friends that actually know what you’re going through…Say you’ll think about it. Right as you’re about to leave, the most fucking gorgeous man you’ve ever seen in your entire life walks past without paying either of you any mind, busy while speaking to another Spider-Person. You ask who that is, turns out he’s the aforementioned leader, “will I ever have to work with him?”, you ask. “Probably, eventually” Replies Jess. Ask when you can start.

Step four: Do your best to earn your place in this elite group. Successfully improve your fighting skills, read everything available on interdimensional traveling and the multiverse. Understand it almost instantly because that’s how smart you are, kudos to you. Realize that for some reason, despite never actually interacting with you, Spider-Society leader Miguel O’Hara tends to stare. A lot. Is it because you’re progressing as fast as Jessica says or because she’s a complete liar and you’re actually doing it all wrong? No idea. All you know is that even during mundane scenarios like laughing in the hall with all the newest additions to the team or in line at the cafeteria, you feel a certain tingle in the back of your head that makes you turn around. Of course, the moment your eyes meet, he turns around and leaves. An odd one, yes. But you’ve also heard things. Rumors, here and there about his life before creating the Society. Whispers about a lost family and some video archives being the only evidence that they even existed in the first place. And, of course, the fault he had in the destruction of their dimension. You sympathize with him, despite his apathetic attitude towards you. You’ve seen him interact with those he’s closer to, and you know there’s more to him than he lets on. You’d be elated if he ever let you take just one look at the smidge of his old self that sometimes peeked out from behind the iron curtain. Well, not really. One look wouldn’t be enough. If anything, it would only cement your feelings for the man.

Step five: Curiosity killed the cat. We all know that. You know that. And yet, you decided to go snooping around Miguel O’Hara’s computer and personal files until you accidentally switch his computer on for long enough to let the videos he’s always watching start playing. He…his daughter…an entire lost life gone before his eyes. Then, before you could do the right thing and turn the computer off, an eerily familiar voice called at him from behind the camera. So, of course, you had to keep watching. Long story short? All those oddly constant stares, that coldness towards you, unwillingness to look you in the eye, was because of two reasons: first, you were a nearly identical interdimensional variant of the wife he’d lost in the dimension he unwittingly erased from existence. Two, as he’d confessed after realizing you’d found out about the truth, Miguel had come to terms with the fact that he was in love with you, not as a replacement for somebody from his past but as a new presence in his life that he’d been struggling to watch from afar, unwilling to let all his repressed feelings spill out like water from a broken dam. Until that night, of course.

Now, eight months later, you’d come to realize there was actually a sixth step you’d never actually considered until now that you were in this…situationship.

Step six: Uncomfortably avoid every and all circumstances in which interdimensional disparities and canon consistency regarding your relationship could come up. Don’t say anything like “Well, it’s been nice but I’ve got to go back to my own dimension” because that would remind him that his dimension was not yours too. That you were after all still a stranger in a strange land. Which of course also meant never inviting him to stay in your dimension.

Deep inside, you knew that all those details would eventually cause problems, especially regarding the inner conflict Miguel was always dealing with knowing what he was doing…what you were both doing, went against his strongest principle. But by God he was happy. Happier than he’d thought he could ever feel again. More than he deserved. So he just ignored those intrusive thoughts and focused on whatever task was at hand. And you were too. Even after just eight months, life without him already seemed unimaginable. He was your first thought in the morning and your last before you went to sleep, and more than once his presence beside you had been not just a figment of your imagination, but a part of your reality as you felt his strong arms wrap around your waist and pull you closer whenever you strayed too far from him in bed as he groggily whispered, “¿Y a dónde crees que vas, preciosa?”, Or when he buried his nose in the crook of your neck, lining it up with soft kisses that sometimes ended up in both of you being late for your assigned tasks. With so much on the line, you were more than happy to avoid those spiky subjects. It seemed like such a small price to pay with all you were getting in return.  

You weren’t sure of where all this was going, but none of that mattered. Right now, you were together. Inside the Spider-Society you were a great team and each one was a valuable asset. Outside, every second spent in your arms was enough to make him forget Spider-Man. To you, he was Miguel and nothing more. And that was all you needed.

Life was good. You were happy with the way things were. Until, as it usually happens, a necessary disruption came quite literally crashing into your life in the shape of a fifteen-year-old that carelessly swung around a corner and crashed into you after you’d been chasing him like the rest of the Spider-People after receiving Miguel’s message.

“Miles?” You asked, recalling his name, which you’d actually been hearing for quite some time since the circumstances of his existence started being a problem for your boyfriend. The boy didn’t answer. He just looked at you, his eyes filled with confusion and fear until you hesitantly took a step aside to leave the escape route open for him. If anything he looked even more baffled, but when the noise of his pursuers reached your ears he rushed down the hall and you lost him after he took a sharp turn.

Before you could be spotted, you ran in the opposite direction and hid around a corner as you tried to call Miguel on your watch. Of course, it was in vain. Well, Plan B. Fortunately, this time you did get a reply.

“(Y/N)?”

“Peter! Yes, it’s me! Where are you?”

“Where do you think? I’m going after him like everybody else. I need to get to him before…sweetie, please just get back in there, Daddy’s on the phone right now…I need to get to him before- “

“He’s already left the headquarters,” You informed him.

“Wait, you saw him?”

“About a minute ago. He was on his way to the North exit.”

“(Y/N), are you sure you should be a part of this chase right now?”

“Why not? Jessica is there, isn’t she?” You replied, smiling to yourself. Good old Peter B., looking out for you like some sort of self-appointed brother figure.

“Well yeah, but she’s not running, kid. Although I don’t think she should be on one of those death machines either, I don’t what she’s…”

While he kept on rambling for a bit, you looked around and wondered if you’d ever seen the building this empty.

Empty.

Your eyes slowly ran along the pearly white walls until they landed on the hallway that led to the room where the Go Home Machine was kept. Practically unchecked, if Spider-Byte had joined the pursuit.

“P.B., I’ll talk to you later,” You absent-mindedly replied, hanging up on him without waiting for an answer as you dashed down the hallway.

You kept thinking about that poor kid’s eyes. After having all that information unloaded onto him, instead being given enough time to somewhat process everything he now had to escape from the very people he was supposed to feel safe amongst. When he sat on the floor right in front of you right after the crash, he was sure you would immediately hand him over. Maybe a few months ago you would’ve done it without hesitation but now…things had changed.

There it was. The Go-Home Machine. You thought you saw a purple blast inside that let you know Byte was still there. However, if your theory was correct, Miles would have to go through that hall and therefore, you. A few minutes later, a sudden voice booming from your watch startled you.

“(Y/N)!”

“Miguel? Where are you? I’ve been trying to…”

“(Y/N), listen to me! Miles lured everybody out on purpose, he’s trying to get to the machine. I can see your location back at the headquarters and he should be coming your way in less than a minute!”

“Alright. I’ll handle it.” You replied, ending the call before he could ask you to elaborate on that.

Sure enough, light footsteps came in your direction shortly after. Right as Miles entered your field of view, an alert issued by your watch made your stomach drop and a dreadful feeling fill your chest. However, you’d made up your mind. There was no going back now.

Mile spotted you at the end of the hall and stopped in his tracks. His eyes were determined, not as afraid as a few moments earlier. If he was there that meant he’d somehow gotten past Miguel. You fought back a smile when you wondered how pissed he’d be about it. Having his ass kicked by a teenager was something that, maybe under different circumstances, you could tease him about.

“He’s a delight, isn’t he?” You finally spoke, trying to somewhat lighten the mood while taking a step toward the kid. However, he got in a defensive stance, furrowing his eyebrows in distrust.

“It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you, I just want to talk.” You assured, showing him both your hands, “Miles, listen very carefully. This is exactly what Miguel was talking about a while ago. At this very moment. Right now, I’m supposed to stop you from getting to that machine and handing you over,”

Of course, he took another step back.

“Miles I’m not going to do that,” You assured him.

“Why not?” He immediately asked, constantly looking behind him, wondering if this was just you trying to stall him like, unbeknownst to you, he thought Peter had tried to do a while ago.

“Because I’m sure there’s a better way to go about all this. I love him so much, I do, but he’s so afraid that I don’t think he’s willing to see other possibilities and by the time he does, it might be too late for you. Now go before anybody else gets here.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice. Miles darted past you as soon as you finished talking, taking a second to look back before reaching the dimly lit room where his ticket home was. His eyes scanned your face and darted down for one second before he looked up at you, a new worry in his eyes that had you wondering whether his spider-sense was strong enough to perceive something you’d just found out yourself.  

“Are you going to be okay?” Miles asked, his eyes looking down for a moment once again. Did he know? Did he mean “you” as in just you or as in…?

“Yes, don’t worry. Now get out of here.” You insisted. With one last hasty “thanks”, he ran into the room as your left in the opposite direction. You weren’t worried about Spider-Byte. She was a good kid, and she’d do the right thing.

The right thing. What did that even mean anymore?

You’d deal with the moral implications later. For now, as you found yourself on the other side of the headquarters, your mind was set on finding Miguel. Maybe you could try and talk some sense into him, make him reconsider whether this was…

“What the hell was that?”

By now you’d gotten used to Miguel’s habit of sneaking up on you. Usually, hearing his voice coming out of nowhere brought a smile to your face. This time, you closed your eyes and winced as you felt his presence behind you.

“Don’t even try lying. I know that voice you used in the call. The one for when you’re about to ignore whatever order I’m about to give you, so I checked the cameras.”

“Miguel, I…” You began to explain yourself just to be harshly cut off.

“(Y/N), what were you thinking? Do you realize what you just did? Do you have the slightest idea of the consequences…?”

“I do realize that you just asked a fifteen-year-old child to stand by and let his father get killed right before calling his existence a mistake, Miguel. What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking of our safety, and that includes Miles’. You’re right, he’s a kid and that means he’s selfish and immature enough to endanger everything we’ve all been risking our lives to protect for years.”

“Miguel, listen to me,” You insisted, “You’re scared. I know. I am, too, but have you ever considered that maybe there’s another solution? Do we even know for sure that allowing the kid to go and try to save his father is going to cause any real damage?”

“What if it does? Are you just going to tell me “Sorry, Miguel, you were right” and that’s all? (Y/N), Dios mío, piensa. Gwen said the same thing but we couldn’t trust her with being objective because he’s her friend,”

“Wait, what do you mean couldn’t?” You asked. Miguel clenched his jaw and turned away, unable or unwilling to look at you.

“Miguel, please tell me you didn’t send her back. Not with how she left things back there,”

His absolute silence told you everything. Shaken, you took a step back.

“What is wrong with you?” You hissed the disappointed look in your eyes hurting like a sharp dagger to his chest.

“(Y/N), mi amor, I’m just trying to…”

“You’re such a hypocrite,” You angrily spat out, “You go around preaching about how important sticking to your stupid canon is and the delicate balance of the multiverse when you know damn well that what we’re doing goes against every single one of those things,”

“No, no, that’s very different,” Miguel disputed,

“How is it different?” You argued back, boldly moving closer to him wishing you were taller so you could face him, “I’m from another dimension, there is no way that we were supposed to meet from the beginning. You had your world, this world, and when you tried to live another life in a different one, an entire dimension was destroyed. I had my world, and for all I know maybe there was somebody there that I was supposed to meet but thankfully I ended up here first so I could meet you. But you know what? My universe is fine, yours is too and I swear I had never been happier in my entire life.”

“You’re right.” He muttered in deep thought.

“Yes, I am. And maybe…” You started to say, a relieved smile tugging at the edges of your mouth until he looked up and the expression in his eyes made your throat dry up.

“We’ve been messing with fire all this time. There is probably somebody you can be with without endangering your entire dimension. And this…this is the hand I was dealt and I should just accept it and live with it. You’re right. Maybe this was all a mistake from the beginning.”

“No. No, come on, you don’t mean that.” You shook your head in denial, lifting both your hands to cup his face in your hands, to bring him close like he had done the night you finally could let all the love you felt for him escape its confinement in your chest.

Miguel grabbed your hands before you could touch him and moved away from you before releasing them as he finally built up the courage to look you in the eye.

“Are you serious?” You asked, your voice quivering with anger as you felt tears begin to dwell in your eyes, “So that’s it? You’d rather sacrifice us than find a different way to solve this?”

“Well, what did you think was going to happen, (Y/N)? That this would go on forever and we’d keep pretending everything is fine and that you don’t have to wear a fucking machine on your wrist every time you come to see me because even the cells in your body know you were never supposed to be here?”  

“Oh, right, so you expect me to believe that you always knew this was going to be temporary? Then what was this? Something to take the edge off after a rough day until you decided it was time to stop fooling around and just be done with it?”

Deep inside, you knew what his response was going to be, but every inch of your heart silently pleaded for you to be wrong. To pull you into his arms and apologize for trying to send you away and promise that you’d get through this because you loved each other and that was all that mattered.

“I don’t know why you thought it was anything else,”

For a minute, you wondered if this was all actually happening. Maybe this was all a nightmare fueled by all the training simulations you’d gone over lately, and you’d wake up crying just to find Miguel asleep next to you, his wide back slowly rising and sinking with every calm breath he took. Your crying would wake him up and he’d furrow his eyebrows and ask what had happened.

“I had a nightmare, that’s all,” You’d say, wiping your tears off and trying to downplay it. But he knew better. He always knew better. He would pull you close and bury your head in his chest, placing a kiss on top of your head while warning you that he was the only one allowed to have nightmares because otherwise he’d have to start comforting you too and neither would get a full night of rest. And you would laugh softly as you drifted off, lulled by the warmth of his chest and his smell of sage lotion and cheap fabric softener.

But no. You were very much awake, and instead of comforting you with promises and reassurances, he was walking away from you after delivering the final blow to your heart.

Since he had his back turned to you, you felt free to let the repressed tears freely fall down your face as you helplessly watch him go until he disappeared around a corner. All of a sudden, you felt as if the walls of the headquarters had begun to close around you to asphyxiate you, and the sound of the returning Spider-People made you realize you didn’t want to be there for one more second.

Thanks to your watch, you were back “home” in a few seconds.

“Home”. Your empty apartment where you’d lived alone for years. Where he’d never set foot, and at least in that way it was free of his memory. Or so you thought until you looked over your shoulder at the ajar bathroom door. Inside, atop the porcelain sink, still rested the positive pregnancy test you’d left there before having to rush over to the headquarters to help with the latest anomaly.

That memory felt so distant now. As if it had happened years ago, in a different life. You suppose in a way, it did belong to another life. A life that was over now.

Numbly, you made your way toward the ragged sofa, collapsing on top of it as soon as you were close enough. It was only then that the full weight of the last day and a half sank in and, as you gently wrapped your arms around your stomach, you let the tears fall until your throat burned, the dusty cushions muffling your broken sobs.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard correctly, you did what?”

The seriousness of the situation was enough for Peter to fasten a small strap in Mayday’s baby carrier to make sure she won’t go anywhere for a few minutes as he waited for his friend’s platform to reach ground level. He couldn’t be chasing his toddler around and ripping Miguel a new one at the same time.

“I did what I had to do. It’s for her own good,”

“Right, because you’re such an arrogant…” He paused to carefully place his hands over Mayday’s tiny ears, “…such an arrogant dick that you think you know what’s best for everyone, including a fully grown, intelligent, woman like (Y/N)”

“Shit, Parker, do you think it was easy for me?” Miguel uttered, pinching the bridge of his nose before resting his face against the palm of his hand, “What I said about this being the hand I was dealt…I don’t know how I’m supposed to deal with that. Hell, I don’t even know how I’m going to keep myself from showing up at her dimension to try and get her back here the first chance I get.”

“And why would you have to keep yourself from doing that?” Peter asked patiently. It sounded like a better alternative to “Miguel, I love you man but I swear you’ve got the emotional availability of a tree stump. Beats me how (Y/N) was able to get you to admit your feelings without prying your chest open with a jigsaw to see your pounding heart for herself.”

“She was right. We were never supposed to meet in the first place. Not like this. It’s not…”

“Miguel, I swear if I hear the word ‘canon’ even once in this conversation I’m going to drive my head through a wall,”

“Just because you don’t take anything seriously doesn’t mean everybody’s the same,” Miguel hissed back.

“That’s where you’re wrong. Last time I didn’t take something seriously, I ended up just like you will unless you get your priorities sorted out. Alone, and regretting not focusing on what was important,”

“This is important,” Miguel stubbornly argued.

“More important than what you had? Look at yourself. Just forty-eight hours ago you were as happy with (Y/N) as you’d been for the past eight months. And as happy as I’ve been with Mayday and my wife who, by the way, wouldn’t even be with me if it wasn’t for that kid you just called a mistake. And do you see my dimension going up in flames? Or yours? Or hers?”

Unable to find an argument against that, Miguel remained silent, his eyes fixed on an empty spot on the wall in front of him.

“Listen, I know you’re afraid. You don’t want her to get hurt, but if you love her as much as you claim to, then you’re taking the choice of a coward right now. And you can’t afford to be one, especially now.”

“Especially now?” Miguel inquired, turning to look at his friend who, much to his surprise, pressed his lips together as if he’d made a mistake and instead focused on getting Mayday’s hair out of her face.

“My point is; I know you well enough to know you worship that woman. And she thinks you’re pretty decent too. And I can tell you from experience that you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life if you let this come between you.”

Not knowing what else to add, Peter gently patted Miguel’s shoulder before leaving the room, hoping he’d given him enough to think about. Hopefully, enough to make him change his mind.

Meanwhile, Miguel hadn’t moved since Peter left the room, mulling his words over.

Two, particularly, had stuck with him for some reason.

Especially now.

[phoenixcatch7]

I know the fandom generally hand waves tawky tawnys back story because 'powerful and eccentric gentlemanly tiger shapeshifter' is pretty cool as is, give or take a stuffed animal or two, but I looked it up out of curiosity and???

Not only does this man (tiger) have many (many) WILDLY varying backstories (on brand tbh) a lot of them deal with quite uh, intense dehumanisation (de-sapient-isation?).

I'm not even joking, in one they have him as a member of an alternate reality where humans died out and humanoid animals rule, except tigers are still kept in zoo cages and denied basic rights. Tawny nearly gets executed for wearing clothes and reading a self help book, and is forcibly stripped naked and locked up again, meeting the marvels when they're tossed into his pen under the assumption that he'll eat them. WHAT?!

In his first appearance (in the 1940s) he's a side character, a bipedal bengal tiger migrating from India to America to, quote, 'integrate himself into American society'. Despite his kindness and politeness, he's met with fear and discrimination, to the point marvel shows up and realises he's chill and helps him get a job as a tour guide for a museum. The writers surely weren't trying to say something with that, no.

Other origins include:

A normal tiger accused of killing a person, granted the ability to walk and talk like a human by a 'local hermit' with a serum to help clear his name.

Mary's mass produced tiger teddy containing a scarab necklace that contained black Adam's powers (?) that was briefly brought to life by satanus as a six legged pooka (English/Celtic/Irish ghost fairy??) to fight his sister blaze and eventually 'earning' permanent personhood from the wizards friend Ibis for being so good at his job.

Random magic tiger who joined a wartime superhero group fighting mind controlled supers and once killed the leader of the Tiger men and took his place.

Random tiger at the zoo Billy thought was cool and tried to turn into a smilodon by sharing his powers, failed. Never left the zoo.

Ifrit tiger who liked to disguise himself as a stray cat or homeless person, who helped Billy when he became homeless.

Enchanted tiger kept on a lead by Pedro, who transforms with him into a smilodon. Quality of life dubious, because this was flashpoint.

Genetically enhanced bengal tiger saved from mind control.

Meta human (maybe??)

A mystical tiger and 'servant of Shazam'

Now that is a roster. The word tiger has lost all meaning to me. Give this guy some civil rights.

I reckon in any universe where one is true tawny would tell the rest as stories to anyone who asked XD. Keep them in their toes lol.

[livelaughlovesubs]

Stay with me, forever

This one is for my lovely @rae-pss <3 but this feels less hot and more disturbing ;-; - honestly, I felt a little twisted writing this

Dom!reader x sub!michael? - Reader is gender neutral

REBLOGS ARE HIGHLY APPRECIATED!!!

Warning: a little dark (content), masturbation (mika), nipple play, doesn’t align with the canon events, reader got kidnapped, Mika mistakes you for luci - (calls you Hyung, brother), Stockholm Syndrom?

Word count: 2.6k

Each day was the same. Boring, stressful and exhausting. The unnerving quietness of heaven was pleasing at first, now after some time it has become annoying. Not a single noise could be heard, expect for the occasional fights that would break out between the seraphim’s. You didn’t need to watch to know who’d be fighting again, obviously it was the one who put you in this misery. Mindless gaze staring out of the window, wondering when you will be freed from this misery. How you earned to be somewhere else right now. Anywhere would be better. Hell, earth, or simply a few rooms to the left.

Long have you gotten too tired of this, of his possessiveness yet pitiful nature. You truly pitied that man, though in such situations who is the most pitiful, if not you? As if your heart sunk into the bottoms of the ocean, there was no chance of return. How many days have it been? Your sense of time has dulled, as well as other sensations. Excitement, anticipation, happiness. Was your appearance the cause of all of this, your genetics? No, none of it. It was sorely the fault of another. That was the aspect that angered you the most, at least it used to be. At this point you felt like you got consumed by the wild waves of reality, slowly going down and drowning beneath all this hardship.

Footsteps emerged from outside the door. Can you even call it a door? It was made out of metal with endless chains and locks, all for the sake of killing your hopes. You knew those steps all too well, that it has become a skill now. The ability to tell who it was by their walking habits. Without moving an ounce from the bed, your eyes rolled over to the side, eyeing the only exit of the room with a neutral gaze. Sounds of locks and metal reached your ears, a stimulation you haven’t experienced for a while now. It was awfully silent here.

After a while, the reason for the sounds showed themselves. The tall, black haired male walked inside, carefully closing and locking the room again. Twisted feelings swam to the surface like always, yet the negative ones were starting to subside. You didn’t care to look at him any further, turning away from him and staring at the wall. He didn’t deserve any kindness and attention from you, only bitterness. “I’m back.” That person said, like always. Voice deep and masking a soft, caring side. He got closer to you, you knew it from how his steps got louder and louder. Then you heard some noises again, before he whispered enthusiastically, “I so glad to see you, lucifer Hyung.”

How was it possible for him to mistake you as someone totally unrelated to you? Was he simply a hypocrite, or was he hallucinating? Something about you reminded him of that certain someone, and you didn’t know what. If only you could get rid of that trait, to finally free yourself. Though then the question remains; would he really let you live after finding out all of this was in his head? You didn’t want to be cruelly murdered by a being like him. An arrogant, insufferable and selfish being like that man in front of you, who loves to call himself a higher being, but bows his head to you whenever he can. Even now he was kneeling on the floor, just right next to the bed. Hands kept to himself as he stared at you with a dreamy gaze.

Those eyes of his were repulsive. The way he looked at you made your stomach curl, as if you got a stomach ache. It wasn’t a good feeling, you felt like vomiting every time. All this disaster was like fate playing cruel games with you, as if it wasn’t playing with you enough. At first you tried to escape or talk back, now you were starting to simply accept it. For how long have you done this? Right, you don’t know. Even though Michael was just inches away from you, you didn’t do anything. Not that you didn’t want to, lord, you wanted to punch him and suffocate him so bad, but that wouldn’t help your situation. The door couldn’t be opened except by the seraphs, a special spell which would be impossible to break. Killing him would only mean your own death all due to starvation.

You also remembered how you tried to reason with him, telling him you weren’t his dear ‘hyung’. Nothing was getting into his thick skull though. Ordering him around, trying to use it to your advantage was also out of the question, since he didn’t trust you one bit. Whenever you attempted that, he’d mumble, “I can’t let you leave again..!” If you weren’t before, at least now you were convinced he was mentally ill, a war murder with a broken mind. Every day went by the same, boredom gnawed away at your own sanity. Were you ever going to get out of here, and what will you be like once you do? Only time could tell. You didn’t even have to will to wish for a good outcome anymore.

Repressed hatred slowly build within you again, swallowing you whole. You thought you had gotten used to it by now, though you were wrong. This simply wasn’t something you can get used to, all you can do is build up a resistance and become numb to it. Eventually you turned around, sitting up a little on the soft and luxurious bed. The treatment you got was by no means bad. A room fit for royalty with the best foods ever, alongside other stuff. You didn’t have to do anything, no chores or work. One might thing this lifestyle was desirable, and it was at first. Expect by now it has become another void within your heart. Without a goal or dream, it didn’t feel like living anymore, only simply existing.

Despite the tension in the room, you finally returned his eager gaze. A blush spreading across his features as soon as he noticed your stare. His silky black hair was everywhere, eyes bearing never ending love and affection within them. Adoration you never asked for. The despicable clenching feeling returned, air becoming suffocating. You furrowed your brows, fighting the urge to scream and yell. All this cruel pain as well as laughable desperation led to pend up negative feelings your brain couldn’t process. Instead it turned all that into sexual tension and energy. Every time you’d do that you felt more disgusted with yourself, but there was no helping it considering your current situation. It was your means of escaping reality, even if it was ruining you in the long term.

You opened your mouth, about to give that angel a command. As soon as he noticed your intentions, he stopped breathing, trying to stay as quiet as possible to listen to you earnestly. If anyone were to make a single sound now, consider them dead afterwards. With a bitter yet lust ridden tone, you told him, “come here”, while you patted the bed. It was rare for you to talk to him and if you did, it’d only be short sentences. He gulped, staring at you with curiosity while he obeyed your request. Now he sat on the edge of the bed. That only lasted for a few seconds before you grabbed his wrist and pulled him closer to you. A sudden yelp escaped his throat, and he tried his best to not touch or hurt you.

He was on all fourth now, while hovering over you. A confused and flustered expression becoming visible. The way you looked at him became sharper and more aggressive, you could almost call it a glare. “I apologise, please, I lost my balance.” Michael said with a slightly nervous tone, even though it was obviously your fault he fell. Instead of answering him, you hinted at your lap. He caught on pretty quickly and sat down with a bashful smile, straddling your legs.

His lips were rosy, smiling at you so sweetly like an innocent angel. The way his cheeks have also become rosy and red, matching his lips, was very adorable. That silky black hair of his was fluttering gently, alongside the wing poking out from his neck. He was such a beautiful and perfect being, that it irked you. There were no hard feelings, only dryness and the simple desire for entertainment filling you. You stared at his body, treating him like he was merely an object of pleasure. This was all you could do while being on such a detestable stage, forced to play in an act you loathed. A moment of silence passed, awkwardness replaced the boldness you felt earlier. Then you said in a belittling manner, “you are unbelievable.”

How his face turned into one of horror, saddened by the fact that he displeased you. “I’m sorry…what should I do to make up!?” Terror played his voice. Even this annoyed you. His attitude was getting under your skin, like an insect crawling around your organs. Aside from that weird dynamic and obsession he has over his brother, how he made it seem like you were the one trapping him made your blood boil. Instead of answering him, you just averted your gaze. Talking to a nutcase like him wouldn’t raise your mood. Maybe you should kick him out soon. His company wasn’t wanted after all.

When your eyes met his again, his body tensed and he gasped. Pupils shrinking slightly and hands clenching his own shirt tighter. The desire to puke returned as soon as you noticed what was going on down there, alongside a weird feeling of fascination. You were irritated with your own emotions, and what in the world your brain was doing, as if it wasn’t working properly. Despite him getting a hard on in such an unfitting situation, you encouraged him to take care of it, saying, “go on, put on a show for me to see.” Shouldn’t you have felt grossed out by him? So why didn’t you? Maybe because this wasn’t the first time? Despite everything you were the one who got him out of his cage, never would you have guessed he’d repay you by locking you up in a cage too.

An almost inaudible whine left him upon hearing your voice again. It took him another minute to register what you told him, before the blush across his features darkened by a few shades. Michale nodded, quickly unzipping his pants and freeing his erect dick. His hands trembled slightly while he did that, a sign of his nervousness and shyness. You almost chuckled at that, a bitter laugh to remind you of this new life you received. If you were to ever meet god, you were going to return all this suffering tenfolds.

Your eyes stuck to his crotch, watching him with a tired gaze. The angel apologised a few times more, uttering the words, “I’m sorry.. I’ll take care of it, Hyung,” as his hand creeped around his shaft, hesitantly pumping his cock. He was too embarrassed to look at you, yet he was too aroused to stop, so he stared at his hands. One glance was all you needed to tell he doesn’t do this often, due to how his movements were so inexperienced. His other hand was bawled into a fist, then it moved up his torso and started to grope his own breasts. Pinching and toying with his pink nipples. “Uh..uhm-..!” Small whimpers could be heard from him, muffled by himself.

Despite his inexperience, it seems like he was feeling good. Exposing himself in front of someone, touching himself inappropriately. His dick was twitching in his hands, precum dripping down and accumulating. “Ahhh..! NgHhh..” more moans erupted from him. You watched as his eyes became foggy with lust, facial expression melting into one of bliss. Squelching sounds filled the room, and he threw his head back. Shoulders raised to his ears while a thin layer of sweat covered his skin. Not to mention how he shook and trembled, panting as if he just ran a marathon.

His hand was dirties by his own fluids, still jerking himself off without a rhythm or tact. Some of it even got onto you. Before you even noticed it, he apologised for that, “sorry… lucifer Hyung, for being filthy…haaaah..” You doubted he was being sincere, judging by how happy he looked. A face full of ecstasy and bliss, undeniably pleasure coursing through his veins while he did shameful things under your watching gaze. “Ah.. please, brother, watch me more..! mhHhmm..- I’m so close.” Now the was just spitting nonsense. The name he called you by made you uncomfortable, though the show he put on was quite enjoyable. Especially because he looked just the right amount of pathetic for you to be amused.

Michael squinted his eyes, lips parted while lewd moans left him. He has never done anything like this, so all those new sensations were a first for him. Tingles filled his stomach, and a strange satisfaction and calmness washed over him. Tears dropping down his face from both eyes, his wings flapped occasionally too. The expression he saw behind your pupils was still one of nonchalant and pity, the same as what he remembered in a faraway memory. Hands speeding up subconsciously, voice getting louder too. The thought that someone might hear him never crossed his mind. Why should he think about anything else when you, his beloved Hyung was right here?

“Haa..ha, ah-nghh, mhmm..!!” Short and erratic gasps left him, paired with groans that bounced off the walls of your cage. “Pleaaasee…I-i want to cum..” A slight stutter slipped itself into his sentence while he wore a mindless expression. As if not a single thought plagued his brain, losing himself in all those feelings his nerves send to his brain. His heart pound like crazy, a testament to the pleasure he felt. Like a mad lad who lost any grip on reality, he repeated words of apologies. Pleading with you and begging while his release hit him, rendering him to a mess beyond recognition. The despair and desperation made you feel like you had power over him, offering a moment of comfort to you.

“I’m sorry.. ah-aAAHhh..! Please,- oh, please.” Michael whispered once more. White liquid spurt out from him, most of it landing on your belly. It’d be a lie if you said you didn’t enjoy it a little, though you were still disappointed and disgusted by all of this. Especially now that reality hit you right in the gut, with how his semen was all over your tummy and making contact with your skin. You pulled a grimace, eyeing him up like he was a filthy animal, most of the time you did believe he was. He clung his dress shirt with all his might, slowly getting down from his high, before he slumped down and hugged you. This sudden boldness and act of intimacy from him made you freeze, muscles tensing up. He crashed down on top of you, arms holding you tightly while he continued to pant loudly.

Still crying, and barely able to breathe steadily, the angel said, “I’m.. haaa.. so happy you are here with me, brother lucifer. Stay with me, forever.” He wasn’t asking, he wasn’t begging. It was a statement. A confirmation that this will become your cruel reality for god knows when eternity will end. Sorrow replaced the previous mixed emotions, and a deep sense of resentment filled your heart while you laid there, staring at him with a growing emptiness residing within you.

[felinefractious]

Thoughts on the GCCF making the Transylvanian an official breed? :o

I’m very excited, it’s nice to see the budding breed earn some mainstream recognition - especially from a registry I actually respect. Looking at you TICA. Spits on you.

The GCCF is the Governing Council of the Cat Fancy and is the primary registry of the United Kingdom, they’re not perfect and I disagree with them on things (iirc they’re… lenient on the issue of outdoor cats) but on the subject of breed health they put many others to shame.

Sticking to the subject of breed health specifically here is a list of unrecognized breeds and the reason why they aren’t recognized. Some are eligible but aren’t presently recognized for whatever reason, others aren’t eligible for arbitrary reasons like not being distinct enough from [x] breed, etc…

But I want to draw your attention to the red breeds.

Some of the red-listed breeds I may not agree with and some I may agree with but may be generally controversial but them being one of the only mainstream registeries to stand against multi-mutation breeds, dwarf breeds and the incredibly popular and widely known Scottish Fold has earned them a great place of fondness in my heart.

The karpati mutation was only discovered in 2014, there’s always the chance we can discover some weird associated health problem down the line… but fortunately coat color related issues don’t seem to be as present as cats as in other domestic species and nothing has been reported anecdotally in relation to karpati, and more importantly they’ve based their assessment of the breeds health on research done on four generations of Transylvations done by the amazing Dr. Leslie Lyons to vet the health of the breed prior to acceptance.

The GCCF is also big on responsible outcrossing and keeping inbreeding to a minimum so I expect they’ll be good about promoting genetic diversity in the breed and starting the Transylvanian’s mainstream debut off on the right foot.

They’re a gorgeous breed with a very moderate body type, true to their street cat origin. You can see my tag for them here!

[bonefall]

Bit of a random one but rereading the parable of the squirrels got me curious: how would clan cats (or just thunderclan in particular) view black/melanistic squirrels? Have any of them ever seen one? Im not sure how common they are in the uk, but i know they can be relatively prevalent in areas that have them sometimes

Black squirrels are nothing more than a simple morph! They get common in areas that have melanistic genes present as a result of simple genetic drift, though I've seen it proposed that black fur is an advantage in cold areas.

The gene is rare in the populations the Warriors come across, so they almost never see it. In spite of ShadowClan's unwillingness to control the gray squirrel population, ThunderClan is so aggressive about it that the pool stays shallow. Red Squirrels (pishkaf) do not have this gene. Only Gray Squirrels (chakchak) do.

So every time a black squirrel manages to occur, it's treated like a dire omen. Even ShadowClan takes it seriously.

Black as a color is associated with day and night cycles, because of Moon Shadow, Sun Shadow, and Shadowstar. Gray Squirrels are associated with war and benefit at the suffering of others. These things together herald great upheaval-- so cataclysmic that it would likely not be an "honorable conflict."

If you came to your Cleric with this omen, they would be struck with a look of terrible alarm. They'd be interested in its context, what it was doing, if it was eating anything, what its surroundings looked like. Someone like BB!Runningnose, interested in supporting Brokenstar's ambitions, might spin it as a positive sign.

Most Clerics would announce that the squirrel needs to be killed IMMEDIATELY, and launch a massive hunt to destroy it. What would come next would likely depend on the culture of the time, but for the most part I can imagine some sort of mass "purification" ritual. The whole Clan trying to identify how they can avoid the cataclysm, one of the few times where they see a glorious war as a bad thing.

The cat who kills the squirrel would likely earn an Honor Title. It's also very likely that the body of the animal is treated as a very powerful material-- burned to ash to prevent its use in forbidden magic or carefully preserved and made into something special, no in-between.

(Thinking about it... thanks for the idea I'll totally do this for Brokenstar's Cataclysm lmao. The sinew of the black squirrel is probably used to re-string Runny's acorn necklace.)

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Cute Spider Society Headcanons:

[a long post of random headcanons about the fun stuff at Spider Society HQ - all cool things for your Spidersona to do]

There's absolutely regular talent shows and battles of the band every quarter or so.

Spider-people usually aren't the most popular back home on their Earth's, so Miguel permits having shows and activities like this so Spider-people can bond and relieve stress between Canon Events

Hobie has won multiple times - His and Gwen's band won last quarter, BUT they don't always win. MetroSpider is another past winner.

The rule is Spider-members only. But if your powers help your music, you can use them (ie, Hobie can play guitar without an amp-)

Training is a HUGE thing.

And it's mandatory even between missions. Time trails, Web strength testing, problem resolution training, weekly classes - It's a lot.

Your training schedule isn't always the same, and your classes are determined by your skill, specific powers, and universe

Money isn't used on campus. It's banned actually, and mostly useless when everyone is from a universe with a different exchange rate, political climate, tender etc.

Instead, The main currency is based on a points system connected to training/missions.

The more missions you do, or the more you train (therefore making you a better hero to your universe), the more points you earn

Things like the cafeteria and dorms are completely free. But points can be used to earn perks like suit upgrades, or things from the commissary

The Commissary is a store on campus where you can buy authorized items from other Earth's.

They have everything from training materials like mechanical webbing - with different properties/effects - to leisure things like cool video games from Margo's world or music from other time eras, vintage things from old universes, etc

Points can also be used for a number of other stuff such as:

Extra jumps on your watch. The more missions you do, the more jumps you can buy, allowing you to go to other universes on your off time (to hang with friends)

Suit Upgrades. Your suit is surveyed and upgraded for free at joining, and it gets upgraded with every class you gain (C Class -> B Class -> A Class -> etc.)

However, you can use points to upgrade or even just redesign your suit. There is a Suit Center where fashionable and genius Spider-people will help you design and adjust your suit based on your universe and villains

There's support groups, a lot centered around Canon Events.

For teens and young Spider-people there's an Educational Program

It can be done part-time with active mission work or full-time on campus

You train in multiversal research, Spider genetics, and other technology such as Doc Ock technology and Green Goblin biology

You can be offered a job on campus after completion - Margo is a graduate of this

If your participate in Educational Program, Lyla will be your mentor and you'll report to her

Educational students live in separate dorms, and the program is kinda intense, but VERY fun

There are different focuses in the program

Spider-Geneticists have a short residency after, they help take Spider vitals and oversee Training

You can also specialise in Spider-medicine - in which you work in the Infirmary

There are some CRAZY (secret) Parties all over the Spider-verse.

Disco-Spider loves a good party. Her and Pavi through insane ragers, a new one in a different universe everytime

Miguel has no idea

But partying on the walls and ceiling while Spider-people play super-human live shows in the world's craziest mosh-pit -

Spider-parties hit different.

It's one of the only time everyone is unmasked around each other

There's a really loose dress code

You DO NOT have to wear your suit 24/7. What is someone gonna do, rat you out in your universe?

Everyone is in their suit for ATSV cause Miguel asked them to be completely professional that day (as an intimidation tactic)

That's why Jess, Gwen, Peter, and Hobie are all fine showing their faces as soon as they get to campus.

If anything it's usually seen as weird to be wearing your mask all the time

Casual clothing is allowed. Skirts and dresses without anything underneath aren't allowed (you'll be upsidedown.)

You're expected to have two suits (one main, one spare - you get these at joining) for missions and a separate training outfit for your classes

There's super sports teams

Spidey Football (European not American) expands the rules to all four walls with a ball engineered to stick like Spidey-people do

Track & Swing Team - which Pavitr is a star member of

A small swim-and-dive team for the swimmers, and a small Roller Derby league for the skaters

Pavitr is also a star on the gymnastics team

There's also things like ballet groups, though Gwen doesn't take part

There's a REALLY GOOD Glee club. Spider-strength gives some crazy lung-capacity.

Disco is on the Glee club, and they take it very seriously

Living on campus doesn't threaten your home verse - you'll still be on call!

Lyla monitors all universes for anamolies - sending Anamoly Teams of 2-6

However if your universe experiences a non-anamoly, your watch will be pinged for a mandatory report, and you'll be sent to your universe to handle it

As such, your watch is like a doctor's pager. You can be called for anamolies or your universe at any time (If you're an active member in your universe, living on Society Campus, or have a contact negotiated for that. Class S members like Hobie can negotiate to be Selective Active members)

There's a little underground Spider-market

If you ask Hobie, he can definitely hack your watch for you.

If your Electro has been beating your ass, you can get your hands on electro-resistant webbing without spending points.

The Society has a small group of people willing to trade you for anything you've got, or even just help you out for the hell of it.

You just have to know where and who to ask

There's a couple Spideys that don't pay electric because someone hooked them up with a super clean Futuristic generator

MJ's, Black Cats, Osborns, and Deadpools are allowed on campus with clearance, a daypass, and a chaperone (their Spidey)

Only for short periods, or if they're super injured. An MJ might pop in when Peter forgets his lunch.

Aunt Mays are not.

It's considered very rude to call them by their 'base names' - ie. calling MJs 'Mary-Janes' or calling Black Cats 'Felicias'

Not all MJs are Mary-Janes

Though, using the term 'a Parker' is common on campus to refer to large Peter Parker population

Roughly 45-50% of the people on campus are named Peter.

There's other 'groups' - such as 'Not-Parkers' (Non-Peter iterations like Pavitr), and 'Duplicates' (Hobie Brown, Gwen Stacy, MJs, Felicia Hardy NightSpider etc)

Though calling them these things are way less common or accepted than calling someone a Parker ('Not-Parker'is neutral. 'Duplicate' is offensive)

[chaostudee]

the secret of us, chapter two.

warnings : abuse, language.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

thursday, media day in the paddock, the highlight of the race weekend for aspiring journalists. a smile adorned your face as you strolled through the paddock, filled with fans galore and mechanics preparing the cars for the race weekend.

with your lanyard around your neck fellow journalist nodded at you in greeting to which you did the same. today claire had assigned you to interview some drivers and sure you were nervous but confident with what experience you had from yesterdays encounter. a blush creeps up your neck when you remember how his piercing hazel eyes latched onto yours and how his smile had enraptured you.

from the moment you walked into the paddock in the early hours of the morning you had been keeping a lookout for him, just to catch a glimpse. would he acknowledge you or had he forgotten you even existed?

"hey y/n you are here finally" claire sighs in relief upon seeing you walking towards her. she looked exhausted yet her makeup and outfit were on point, you could hardly notice which made you question your own clothing choice. she effortlessly always looked flawless.

"sorry am i late?

"no no i just wanted to give you some time to prepare before they come" she adds as she flicks through her briefcase for something.

"em well can you tell me who it is......"

"oh yes um george and lewis i believe".

you chuckle to yourself. of course it is.

claire was not in the dark about george being your brother but she understood that being in the public eye was not your cup of tea and she didn't feel the need to advertise your personal business. and for that you trusted her.

"okay so mercedes reached out and they just briefly want you to ask them personal questions like what they do to relax or like favourite food you know stuff like that, you get me?"

you nod in understanding. just as you are about to open your mouth you see lewis and george walk into the room. air catches in your throat once you clock lewis. he was known to convey his own style during media day and today was no exception. you admired his adventurous clothing style.

george gives you a subtle nod and you smile back. you couldn't believe you had made it to this position. you were finally interviewing drivers and although it was all still on a trial basis you were proud of this accomplishment.

the cameramen came in to set up their equipment which increased your nerves as you shuffled through your notes and fiddled with your hair.

a few metres away george was conversing with lewis about the strategy for the weekend and to avoid suspicion he nodded and said yeah because his eyes kept drifting to you. he was aware that you were nervous because you had the same mannerisms as last night. he wanted nothing more than to assure you that there was nothing to be worried about but instead he vowed to make you feel as comfortable as possible.

"action!"

that call causes you to sit up straight and clear your throat.

"hi i'm y/n and i'm here with....." you extend your arms to the boys anticipating their introduction.

"hi i'm george russel"

"and i'm lewis hamilton"

the two wave at the camera before turning their attention back to you.

"okay by the way all these questions are by fans so please don't cancel me for any of these, these are their word not mine"

this earns a laugh from george and a small smirk from lewis.

"okay this first question is for george, everyone wants to know your hair care routine". you try to hold back a giggle knowing damn well that your brother uses the cheapest shampoo and showers like 2 or 3 times in a week.

george claps his hands together clearly eager to answer this question. "okay well truthfully anyone who knows me i acc don't use a lot of products so ig its's my genetics" he answers proudly. lewis looks at george weirdly causing george to start laughing. "mate what it's the truth". lewis hands up his hands in defense.

"okay moving on," you giggle "um lewis what is a before race ritual for you?"

lewis smiles at you and brings a hand to rest underneath his chin. "um honestly i just like to listen to some music or something and a couple of stretches or what not"

"what kind of music?".

lewis is surprised you continued the conversation but is happy to oblige. he sits back in the chair and hesitates. "well you know it honestly depends on the day butat the moment hip hop and rap have been dominating my playlist".

the way he is looking at you as he as his arms crossed makes you feel flustered and you hope no one can tell but you are sure they can because you feel heat rising to your cheeks.

"c'mon ask me another question" george whines which causes everyone to laugh and makes you totally forget about lewis. as requested you ask george another question and repeat the process until you find yourself at the end.

"okay thank you everyone for watching the video hope you enjoy byeee"

you sigh in satisfaction as the camera switches off and everyone starts clapping. you are happy with how today went and especially when claire embraces you and admits she is proud of you.

"hey you did amazing today"

you turn to find george in front of you. "thanks idiot". he holds his arms open waiting for an embrace and in george's hold you look up to see lewis walking out with his team, only to your dismay.

you and george pull apart and he ruffles your hair and in response you give him a light tap on the shoulder. george consults his watch and when he notices the time he frowns. "okay sorry i got to go to another interview but good luck with rest of today"

"okay bye see you later"

he gives you a small side hug before running off in the same direction lewis went.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

just as you are finishing up your last few bits before heading home you are greeted by a familiar face. "hey y/n how's it going?" charles comes up to you gives you a hug and you reciprocate.

"i actually haven't seen you much around the paddock where have you been?

"i've actually been doing a couple of interviews" you say with a smile as you sling your bag over your shoulder.

his eyes widen. "omg no wayyy i'm so happy for you". charles had always been there for you to support you throughout college when getting your degree and now throughout the motorsport industry.

"thanks charles"

there is a silence as charles debates whether to bring up the topic or not. "i heard you and lewis were talking yesterday"

this catches your attention. "oh". you try not to sound too intrigued to where this conversation is going.

"i told lewis to stay away from you"

by those words you feel slightly hurt. i mean you did know that nothing could happen between you two but the fact that charles went out of his way to prevent it felt like a stab in the back.

"i'm just trying to protect you" charles says placing a hand on your shouldler.

"yeah yeah i know"

"it has only been a couple of months since ian......". at the mention of his name you shudder and charles notices.

"i'm sorry for bringing it up"

"it's okay but i know what you mean about the whole lewis thing and i get it it's fine"

charles nods and hugs you into his side.

you smile feeling comfort in his embrace. ever since george and charles had become friends you fell into the friendship also and would now consider charles one of your closest friends.

a ping from your phone causes you to pull away from him. your mouth goes dry and your breath hitches when you see the text message. ian had tried to reach out to you before but he had never threatened you before.

charles looked at you worried when he was aware of your shocked expression. "you okay?"

"um yeah yeah i'm fine but i should probably get going now"

charles is not sure if he should just let you go because he can tell something is bothering you. "um yeah okay"

you give charles one final hug. "see you tomorrow". you manage to throw him an uncertain wave and a half smile.

as charles watches you walk off he can't help but feel that you were lying top him but maybe he was just being superstitious.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

lewis is packing the last few bits into the boot of his car, feeling satisfied with todays outcome. just as he slams the boot closed he hears a noise that causes him to pause in his action.

it seems it is only coming from a few mere metres away. cautiously he walks closer to the noises, it sounds like screaming which put him on high alert. he wasn't prepared for what he would see in front of him.

you were holding a palm to your cheek as tears spilled down your face. a man held you by the collar shouting in your face.

lewis stood there in shock for a moment but it only took a matter of seconds for him to act.

"hey get the fuck off her what the fuck do you think you are doing?!"

the man turns once he hears the voice and pushes you away from him causing you to stumble and fall onto the ground.

lewis runs to stand in front of you protectively.

the man chuckles. "is this your new boy toy y/n?" he chuckles. "i always knew you were a slut like god we've only just broken up and you're onto the next guy".

lewis was trying to restrain himself, his fists in a ball, but that was his last straw. he brings his balled fist to meet the man's cheek causing him to stumble back and hold his injured face.

"i said get the fuck out of here" lewis repeats now through gritted teeth. this time the man doesn't argue and trudges away not even taking a glance back.

lewis immediately kneels down to check on you. "y/n are you okay?". he hated to see you like this and if he could he wouldn't beaten that guy to death. who the fuck would ever want to do that to someone, especially you.

you look up at him your cheeks tear stained and one bright red. you hiccup through the crying. "i'm um i'm fine t-thanks for that but you really didn't have to".

lewis helps you up and then wipes a stray tear from your face. "i did have to, i couldn't just let you get hurt".

"did you know this guy?"

you sigh and cross your arms around your body. "he was my ex"

at those words lewis puffs out a blow of air and brings his hands to his head. "why the fuck would he do that to you?" he points to your face.

you don't respond.

lewis bites on his lip unsure what to say to you as it is clear you are hurting. you still seemed pretty unsure around him but he wanted nothing more than to just hold you and wipe your tears until you had stopped crying.

"okay well there is no way you are driving home in your state so i'll give you a lift" lewis grabs the keys from your grasp.

"no"

"what do you mean no, this isn't an offer" lewis counteracts.

"i can drive myself home" you say bluntly.

"y/n please just let me-"

"no lewis you have already done enough stop trying to get involved an leave me alone" you couldn't let him get close to you, like ian had. you wouldn't let yourself get hurt again. ian had said he would always protect you so why should you believe a word lewis had to say you grab your keys from him and quickly hop in the drivers seat and before lewis can intervene you hit the gas.

lewis stands there in disbelief his hands over his head. he didn't know what to do. part of him wanted to report this to the police and to hope that the guy ended up behind bars but hell he didn't even know your last name. but you even so he cared. he cared so much that he picked up the phone and called charles.

taglist ⭑.ᐟ

@lottalove4evelyn

@sweetestgirlintown111

@rafeyybabyy

[leggerefiore]

HCs for Giovanni, Archer, and Colress with a shiny charm S/O - they just have unreal luck with shiny pokemon they catch them bc they know they're rare and tend to just gift shiny mons to them (which I feel like for Giovanni and Archer that's such a bad idea those pokemon are getting sold or something) Bonus thought just rolling in my brain - Giovanni and S/O with matching shiny Nidos - or S/O having a shiny variant of the character's ace mon - I just think it's cute

cw: fluff, mentions of pokemon selling in Giovanni and Archer's parts

characters: Giovanni, Archer, Colress, Grimsley

🚀Giovanni🐈

🟥 He finds this trait quite valuable, naturally. Pokemon of any rare colouration will fetch a higher price even if they are common pokemon that most will barely register as important. Whether he believes you are a living shiny charm… He just assumes you are talented in seeking out these pokemon. There are many legends and rumours about things that make these genetic anomalies more likely to occur, of course. He had messed around with a few himself to see if it were at all possible. Unfortunately, he decided that was not the case. Or, perhaps the difference was not worth whatever it took to procure the supposed lucky items. Unfortunately, most of your gifts to him are passed along to his sellers, but he does keep quite a few nonetheless.

🟥 When you gifted him a blue, male Nidoran, you had somehow pierced his cold heart. A rare genuine smile crossed his lips as he regarded the pokemon carefully. It seemed you were aware of his tastes. He appreciated the gift thoroughly… The pokemon would join his team quite quickly, earning its place among his other pokemon. The blue Nidoking almost becoming something like an ace to him. Of course, your purple female Nidoran sparked a certain kind of joy in him. Something between a quiet claim on you and your obvious interest in matching with him. The green Nidoqueen almost represents a certain status you have within his organisation, even if you were not officially a member.

🐕Archer🚀

♦️ Your talent intrigues him, no doubt. Whether this is before or after Giovanni disbanded Rocket, he is always looking for a way to increase profits, and your generous gifts certainly give him a hand there. He is aware that he should feel worse about giving away the pokemon that you so lovingly gift to him, but he has dedicated his whole self to Rocket... Assuredly, you would come to understand. You give him so many since you seem to attract them. Part of him wants to study how you do it and imitate you, but even you seem unaware of just how you did it. It was frustrating, but he supposed it mattered little since you kept a nice supply to him. He is quite like his boss in many regards to this… There is a fake apology from him if you do seem hurt by his actions. The last thing he wants is for you to run off or lose your gifts.

♦️ He does keep some of them, though. Archer is not stupid enough to let things that clearly mean a lot to you slip away from him. And besides… Part of him does appreciate that you clearly adore him so much that you would give these gifts away. A green Zubat stays with him alongside a blue Houndour. The fact you gifted him such pokemon... He understood. They would even possibly join his team to reflect his position as an executive. (Though, only if Giovanni himself had a few shinies, too.) When you show him your bright blue Houndoom, he lets himself have a genuine smile. How cute. You wanted to match with him. Your love was clearly secured. He lets himself breathe and sends out his Houndoom. The two pokemon seem to reflect the relationship you two had in no time at all.

🥼Colress🛸

🧪 He is not necessarily sure he believes in your luck as a superstitious thing, but there is clearly something about you that does seem to attract shiny pokemon to you. Colress was fully aware of rumours about shiny charms and breeding pokemon from two different regions to increase the chances of hatching a shiny variation. There was scientific documentation even, but the increased chances were never something potentially high enough to warrant it if you were a normal person and not a breeder. He pondered what about you could attract these pokemon. Luck was something that was calculable and could be broken down, but he doubted it was just that. He is fascinated in your existence as a scientist, and he is documenting everything related to your outings. His current theory is a pheromone. Do not even ask how he got there.

🧪 Your gifts of shiny pokemon are thoroughly cherished. His research should naturally include multiple kinds of variations and variables related to pokemon and bonds, so having the chance to work with such rare pokemon gives him a chance to explore as many opportunities as possible. They are well taken care of, too, naturally. It is not in Colress's nature to be unnecessarily cruel. When you start gifting him shiny variants of his own team, his eyes light up. Even better to compare… He is utterly fascinated. When you show up with a beige-toned Klinklang, he is further elated. You chose one of his choices of pokemon species to keep as a partner. His bond with you must be quite strong, as well. There will be lots of data to observe… Prepare to be followed around by Colress and his tablet. You have entirely caught his heart and scientific interest.

♠️Grimsley❤️

♤ His intrigue is certainly up there. There was a certain theory he had about you being a good luck charm, but this was clearly some further expression of it. He fully believes that you must be some strangely lucky person due to the sheer number of shinies that you encounter.  Part of him wonders if he should strap you up with a shiny charm, have you do a certain pokemon breeding method, and see what profits are to be had. He starts internally betting your odds, wanting to figure out just what percentage you had to gather. Anything can become gambling for him, and your odds of finding a shiny Audino seem just as good as playing roulette. Really, he is simply astounded that his read on you had been even more correct that he initially intended.

♡ Your gifts of shiny pokemon are appreciated, and he takes the time to care for everything you give to him. Unlike some people, he actually enjoys gifts from his partner, and the fact that you trust him with these pokemon does mean a lot to him. Grimsley is aware of how shady he seems but feels glad that you saw through it. The shiny Purrloin you gave him was truly something cherished. He lets the blue kitten curl up in his lap any time, not caring about the fur that takes over his suits. Part of him wonders if your luck transfers over to the pokemon you gift… He supposes he could find out by training them. When you appear with a red Liepard rubbing into your side, his smirk becomes uncontrolled. Oh, is that it? He easily makes the cruel pokemon purr while meeting your eyes. It seemed you wanted to match. He was more than happy to do so. But… Well, his Liepard was a bit too jealous to do anything in the end. How unfortunate.

[nekovmancer]

Do not make a sound

word count: 6139 sorry not sorry warnings: nsfw, gn!reader (afab), not fully proofread so ye, language, porn with a small plot, d in p, fingering, (kind of) public sex, implied cheating and infidelity, gabriel and his messy genetics (but we’ll use it in a sexy way), MINORS DNI !!   based on this request + AO3 mirror

It’s needless to say Cole began it all, the motherfucker. 

Despite your name doing fine, thanks, he insisted that you’d need an alter ego after joining Blackwatch, and did he had an extensive list of suggestions. Before you knew it, everyone was referring to you as the Whisperer. Ha ha, thanks Cole. Though it was indeed a fit since you’re not very familiar with the faces of your new division, meaning you’d stay quiet and observant most of the time and avoid any kind of eye contact, not to mention physical touch, even if it was a simple handshake… eek. 

Damn. You missed Amari’s late night teas and Reinhardt’s thunderous laugh filling the silent spaces you’d leave. If it wasn’t for Cassidy himself, you could’ve been working with a bunch of cold stones without being able to point a single difference. 

Time. All you needed was a little time to adjust, to get to know them better… and so you let it go by, reassuring yourself it would do the job to ease your nerves, and make your shyness slowly drift away. Needless to say the cowboy was your first acquaintance, followed by Genji, and even Moira became toralable, despite her side glances still being enough to make a freezing cold descend your spine bones. Everyone was… fine. Except for your commander. 

You would never understand Gabriel Reyes even if you tried. You knew little of him, and never felt like wanting more information on his infamous persona, because you’re sure the man despised you, and that was reason enough for you to never stand close and just follow his orders blindly during missions. To be honest, just now you came to understand why people claimed Morrison was so much better as a leader; as Reyes bossed people around, Jack guided them. The difference was glaring.

Yeah, you’re pretty petty about the man yourself, being quieter than usual whenever he was around and feeling tense if he spoke directly to you. But hey! Who could blame you? His handsome face was something already, but it was totally wrecked from the way he frowned and his lips twitched, every single kind of disdain showing up without a second thought. He could be tolerable, but he wasn’t, so why would you be the one making efforts alone?

“Boss just needs to be laid, I’m telling ya,” that was the regular response you’d earn for Cole whenever you voiced him your complaints; no different this time. And a puff of smoke right to your face, which was becoming rather enjoyable, fuck it. You don’t even scold him anymore, just let the scent fill your lungs as if it was some wicked sort of soothing incense. It could be kind of hot… if it wasn’t for your annoying friend being the one to do it. 

“Isn’t he married or something?”

Cole shrugged, inhaling the heavy smoke of his cigar before lazily diverting his sight to you with a grin, one that was enough to state that nothing good would leave his lips. But with that you’re used to: Cole languidly saying whatever shit he got in his mind. Maybe the reason why you felt so comfortable around him, knowing he would be the last person to be judgmental, and the first to say something stupid that would certainly make you laugh.

“Have you ever been married, darlin’?” he knows the answer, and you still lower your head before motioning it to indicate a no. There was no shame in not being in a stable relationship, right? Right? Thank God it wasn’t a question on how long you haven’t been laid. “If Reyes fucks his wife once in three months you can name me the pope.”

Your mouth falls agape, a strangled breath of pure disbelief leaving it before your incredulous chuckle found its way out. “If he ever heard you saying this shit…” 

“Saying what?” you freeze in spot, turning around to meet your commander’s, the devil himself, stern gaze. Cole didn’t seem bothered, but your wide eyes were enough proof of your guilt. “Would the two knuckleheads cut off the useless chit chatting for once? We got work to do.”

“Sorry, boss,” Cole tapped his index finger on the cigar, leaving a trail of ashes behind him as the fire ceased, one last blow of smoke hitting your face. “Whisperer here is having a hard time with a jerk. I was just advising them to fuck the grumpiness out of the idiot.”

That said, you don’t find the courage to look up to check out the expression on Reyes’ face at the response, but you do hear Cole’s chuckle as he begins to leave, your feet hot on his trails before a firm hand grabs your shoulder, making you stiff.

You dare to stare at your commander with an innocence that doesn’t belong there, a single brow arching above your eye. “Yes, sir?” you hate the way your voice cracks when the sentence is almost done, and the warm feeling of his hand resting on your shoulder… with slightly more pressure than necessary. It burned you inside out, an indistinguishable feeling making itself home in your guts.

“Cole is not an example to follow. I know you lose your tongue around him, but remember this,” you could’ve sworn you saw the edges of his eyes softening a bit. But no, there it was: the veiled anger that always lurked around him, as a shadow in the commander’s back. It was dense, oppressive almost. That thing inside of you twirled, and you unconsciously moved a step far. His hand kept still nonetheless. “I’m your commander. If you ever have a problem with something, I should be the one to know. Not Cassidy: me. Understood?”

“Agreed,” your reply is dry, but you can feel your tongue tingling, a sharper response resting on its tip. You could let it go, simply as that, and maintain things easy as you always did, but why? Who the fuck was he to demand you told him shit when he was the problem? “I will let you know when I fuck the guy then.” 

────────────────────────────────────────────

Let’s just say biting back at your commander wasn’t the best of the ideas.

Cole had been out for weeks on a mission, barely having time to reply to your several texts. You’ve overheard his brief talks with Reyes in the commanding room, but aside from that… no news at all. And you’re sure that was your punishment for retorting Reyes. Not to mention your brand new training schedule, which left no time for you to meet your friends, or anyone else except the Blackwatch team.  

Fucker. 

You peek at him from your co-pilot seat, still a bit bitter for being the one summoned to the mission along Reyes alone. He had insisted Moira wouldn’t be necessary, since your targets wouldn’t be able to cause any damage if they were dead already. Plus, it was a weak security system to break through, and he’d need you just to have his back and make sure the path was clear; meaning he trusted your skills to get the job done.

Not that you’re happy about it anyways.

First of all, you’re not one to start conversations with anyone else but your friends, leaving the three hour flight trip in a dead silence that was becoming rather awkward. Second, the one person in Blackwatch that made you comfortable enough to chat was out of league, thanks to your jerk of a commander himself. That’s why your expression was worse than his, for the first time, and Gabriel seemed fucking smug about it; one side of his lips turning upwards in a crooked grin.

Oh, what a surprise! Your misery meant his bliss. Son of a…

“Keep that anger boiling for the guards,” is that a hint of humor to his tone? Maybe. Cole would’ve said something similar if he was with you, but the sentence wouldn’t be over before he tossed a single darlin’. “It will be more useless than directing it at your commander.”

“I’m not angry at you,” your reply came quiet, almost a whisper. But casting a side glance at him, it’s clear Reyes didn’t buy it. “It’s just…” drawing a deep breath, you try your best to steady your voice and don’t make things worse. You don’t need another week apart from your best friend. Oh, wait- have you just thought of Cole as your best friend? Nah, leave it for now, “you can be difficult sometimes, sir.” 

“Tell me about it,” Reyes scoffs. “I’ve never had a single conversation with you that wasn’t strictly monosyllabic, but Cole had a lot to say about the way I treat you. Funny, isn’t it?” 

Your whole body tenses at his words, and suddenly your stomach feels cold as if you're dead; you’re so perfectly still that maybe that was the case. Was his grumpiness actually resentment all this time? It’s not like you did it on purpose, but as much as you don’t know nothing about him, little did Reyes know about you; so your quiet manner may have been mistaken by antipathy. 

Worse, what did motherfucking Cole tell him? For someone who seemed so unbothered whenever you had plenty to say about the commander, that was indeed a surprise. You had a lot to say for yourself now, but the words got stuck in your throat, a lump that you can’t swallow, nor puke. 

“Listen, kid, it’s fine,” Reyes sighs, and you can tell by the harsh sound of it alone he’s terribly tired. Cole’s voice telling you he needs to be laid pop up in your head, and you shrink instantaneously. Damn intrusive thoughts. “You don’t need to fucking love me. Just do what you have to do and we’re cool.”

The urge to respond telling him you’re no kid and, fuck, you’re sorry for the misunderstandings hit you like a punch in the face. Your lips tremble, parting themselves enough for you to spit it out, even if it’s another goddamn whisper or whatever. But you’re still choking on what you’d like to say instead of pouring it out. 

You risk glancing at him again, and there are no shadows surrounding Reyes now. Bloody hell, he seems tired without the menacing aura. Up in the sky, the light found his face in a way that revealed something along the wrinkles of his expression, something you couldn’t read from your distance.

But that’s not of your concern, is it? 

You could’ve said anything, really anything, or maybe reached your hand a bit and patted his shoulder. Instead, you keep yourself straight, almost motionless until you’ve met the mission’s destination. And once there, it’s not like you’d have plenty of time to discuss your twisted kind of a relationship; if you could call it so.

Yet that doesn’t stop it from bugging you. Was it all a mistake? You search for that anger inside of you, the heat that once threatened to consume even your bones, but you don’t find it. There’s an empty space there now, one that echoes a tepid fever and still feels nothing but cold.

Reyes takes the lead, and also takes down a feel guards on his way forward. He doesn’t look back, not even once, and you found yourself wishing he did. What he would find, though? Not worth a peek. You’re sure the Blackwatch’s commander doesn’t need anything from you, let aside your pity, so you follow him as silent as a phantom, dealing with whatever is left.

He takes a subtle shift, disappearing from your sight in a blink. Standing a few steps behind, you put your back against the nearest wall and motions to follow, taking a few slow steps to make sure no menace remains on your backs… and that’s when a hand covers your mouth and pulls you to the shadows. 

After a few frenetic heartbeats, you’ve come to realize you’ve not been pulled to a dark corner, but you’re surrounded by darkness itself. A massive shadow takes hold of you, one hand keeping your mouth shut and the other gripping on your waist, so tight you can feel its fingers sinking in your skin over the cloth of your uniform. 

Your eyes could’ve popped out of your head at any minute by now, until a couple of errand guards pass by. If it wasn’t for the shadow, they would’ve spotted you and Gabriel in a minute, leaving you both outnumbered and… fuck. He couldn’t have simply disappeared when you blinked, right? And a living shadow out of nowhere wouldn’t be your savior, unless… 

Smelled like Moira’s doing. 

Your muscles still ache when you gradually begin to relax, and the shadows around you begin to collect their form, letting their grip loose. The hand covering your mouth was removed, but the other kept there, holding you impossibly close. You feel a solid frame pressed against your back, despite still cold enough to erupt a chill down your spine. Lips trembling once more, you let a question alone slip, so quiet it wouldn’t be heard if it wasn’t for the lack of space between you. “Commander?”

You thought you’d be afraid to hear the answer, but you’re longing for it. Each passing second marks a rise to the cadence of your heartbeat. One, two, three… “Do not make a sound,” it’s Reyes' voice, too close to your earshell for your heart to sooth with relief; its pace just gets more frenetic as his fingers move around your waist, as if they’re contouring your bones. Your body spasms, and his grip gets sharper. “I’ve said quiet, Whisperer.”

The shadows twist over you, a heavy mist that would dissolve around your fingertips if you tried to hold on it, and yet you could feel something substantial lurking behind, strong enough to keep you steady despite the slight trembling cursing through your bodies. Was it all Reyes? Everything? Shit, if you’ve bothered to get to know the man better, maybe it would have spared you from your heart kicking your ribs, leaving your breaths shallow and your heart racing as they’re now. 

He didn’t feel human now, but he was a human, right? 

You try to move, shifting your weight for one leg to the other, but even that smallest movement had him squishing you closer to his body; or whatever part of it that was still solid enough and not puffs of smoke that you could breathe in. The guards’ voices echoed further on the corridor, fragments of their conversation still audible for you both. A wrong turn and they’d find their colleagues unconscious bodies dropped on the floor, a single step even… and the mission would fail. 

Was it the reason you couldn’t think straight? The adrenaline was rushing through your veins, warming your skin as your heart lost its pace again. Or was it Gabriel’s hand resting on the curve of your hip? You try to collect your thoughts, closing your eyes for a moment, but the smoke invading your lungs had the scent of musk and… the muscles of your inner thighs trembled in response as you recognized it was Reyes’ scent, his fucking cologne or something. 

“They won’t spot us until it’s too late. Stay quiet and we’re safe,” Gabriel sounds like he’s trying to reassure you, unaware of the real cause of your reactions, but it doesn’t help at all. He’s still too close, and why? It’s not like you will be running to the idiots if he let go of you. But when you open your mouth to reply, it’s not a protest. Why, again?

“I’m not worried about that.”

“Are you scared then?” was it… no. You were always one to suppose things about him, and won’t assume yet another possibility fabricated by your brain is the absolute truth. Gabriel Reyes of all people wouldn’t be insecure about what you thought of him in… this state. He’s just keeping his tone down, to prevent you from being heard; to keep you safe. 

Regardless, you need some time before coming up with a reply. There was this strange feeling inside you, traveling down your stomach and inflicting more pain to your already sore muscles, tight with tension. But you wouldn’t name it fear. You were more scared for the sudden pull than of him, surrounding you in a cloud of massive shadows. Amazed wasn’t the word, still… Reyes groaned, and you shivered. “You’ve startled me, yes. But I am not scared of you.”

Another grunt, yet this echoed through his ribcage to yours. You could feel it, the shadows becoming dense once more and what could be his chest squeezed tight against your back as the feeling of his hands became fainter. You dared to look down to see nothing but darkness enclosing you, moving swiftly around your fists. With a gulp, your voice is heard again. “We should get going, sir. This is not…” right. That’s what you should’ve said. But you didn’t, ‘cause a minor part of you, growing bigger from each strangled breath you take, was enjoying it.

Now is Gabriel who takes his sweet time to come up with a reply. You’re aware of his ghostly presence a mere breath apart from you, so close you could let your mind wander a little… How long has it been since the guards passed by you? How long would it take for them to come back, if they ever did? What was he waiting for? But what he says next doesn't answer any of your questions. Instead, it brings up more. “Has anyone told you how beautiful you are, Whisperer?”

You swallow hard, feeling his form drift once more; nothing but a cold empty space left after. You notice just now you’re supporting your weight on him, almost dropping to the floor the second he swifts and leaves nothing for you to hold on. “Cole surely did,” his voice is everywhere, surrounding you in hisses that could cut through your skin. “I bet the boy didn’t mention I was the one to bring it up.”

Thankfully you feel a pair of solid hands taking hold of your wrists, ‘cause you felt on the verge of crumbling to your knees. Gabriel Reyes thought you’re beautiful and admitted it out loud for a reason you can’t point out nor predict, and right now you can’t think of anything else but it, the inconsistent feeling twisting inside your guts as his words echo in your mind. A turmoil begins, and you ask yourself if he perceives what he’s causing inside of you. 

You quiver, and Gabriel’s hands roam further, finding the way down your inner thighs. “All the fucking time I was the one who got my eyes on you, and the cowboy takes all the credits because he calls you darling?” no, you never thought of Cole that way, and you suspect he doesn’t see you as such either. Not that you’re willing to turn Gabriel down when the jealousy in his voice sounds deliciously sweet for you. If you tasted it on his tongue, maybe it would be honey flavored.

Fuck. To think of his lips when Reyes had his hands all over you, traveling up and down and making you whole body shiver in anticipation… sinful would be one definition, heavenly would be another. 

You’ve wronged him, yes. But you’re looking to make up to that, why not? Everyone makes mistakes.

After all, how could you ever figure out every time you’d eyed him from the corner, he was looking back when you turned around? Oh, just to think of it was glorious, as glorious as his hand running along your thighs, then up to linger on the waistband of your pants, enough for you to hold your breath before he drifted away. “For fuck’s sake, say something now.” 

The lump on your throat goes undone with that simple command. You’re always one to follow his orders without questioning, after all. “I don’t know what the fuck I should say. As far as I’m concerned, you hated me until… a few minutes ago?”

He grips the limp skin of your inner thighs, squeezing it so hard you see stars blurring your vision. Before your mouth can even open to echo your pain, Gabriel’s hand covers it again, taking the opportunity to bring you even closer. You feel something hard brushing against your lower back, and you know just right what body part of his it is.  “Do you want me to show you how much I hate you, Whisperer?”

You repeat the question to yourself, your lips following the words but not making a sound. Do you? He doesn’t even sound like himself. Worse, the shadows lurking behind you shaped the form of a ghost, haunting you into the verge of the abyss. A one time thing, a way with no return… gulping, of course the answer would sound pathetically broken when it left your lips. “Y-yes.”

Gabriel doesn’t need you to say it twice, less a touch of politeness to the sentence before he complies. Next thing you know is he’s all over you, pulling your body towards what it seems to be a small storage room, with space enough to fit you both between piles of boxes. Still, not enough space to leave a single breath in between. 

Light is scarce, making it impossible to see his features clearly even if you squint your eyes nearly shut. The contours of his frame, still, are very clear — and solid. They’re outlined faintly in the darkness, not a part of it anymore; a man, not a phantom. Your hands rest on his torso, testing the waters before delving in, and Gabriel’s fingers encircle one for your wrists, indulging it to travel further as he guides your path.

You cannot see Gabriel, but you can definitely feel him. The tension in his muscles is palpable, and you wonder how much of this is your fault. The bulge on his pants certainly is. You accidentally brush your thigh against it, and the grip on your wrist suddenly intensifies, earning a hiss in response. 

The teasing is right there, resting on the tip of your tongue… if it wasn’t occupied with Reyes’ now, you’ve vocalized it. And he does not taste sweet as he kisses you with an insatiable hunger. Your commander tastes fucking sour, consuming all your mouth with the flavor of his with each twist of his tongue, demanding for an equal response. 

Something lights up in that once void space on your chest, the very same anger from before rising its flames and burning everything that dares to stand on the way. The ardor devours you, extinguishing any reservations holding you back before you bring one of your hands to snake inside his pants. 

Gabriel’s length barely fits your palm as your hand motions a few strokes, his stone-hard cock responding to the warm contact with a twitch as your fingers describe a painfully slow pace up and down; taking measures of the damage there’s yet to come. Gabriel groans, a sound you take too long to take as the warning it was.

Still, your rhythm remains steady. Deliberately more confident as your other hand does the work of removing any garments restraining him, meaning no more pants confining his erection. It seems the goddamn world around you was holding its breath at this very moment, watching the point you’ve reached, one that meant no return. 

Your eyes finally search for Reyes’, but the scarce light barely shows a thing, making it impossible to see his blown pupils staring directly at you. But it’s the strangled breath leaving his lips in a snort that makes you aware of how naive you were; a little lamb who dared to linger too close to the wolf. And the hunger that crawls inside Gabriel can’t wait no longer to be satiated. 

You stumble over the boxes in the ground when he moves further and further, cornering you against a dusty shelf before you can blink. Too late to verbalize anything but a moan as it’s his time to toy with you, teeth grazing not so gently against the skin of your neck before his hand resumes its position, steadily resting on your hips and restraining your every move. 

You had your chance to get the upper hand, wasted and hopeless to recover. Your pants now find their way down, resting just above your knees. The bare feeling of the pooled cloth is enough for a chill to erupt, leaving goosebumps on its trail down your skin. The anticipation is effervescent, burning like a fever that can never be cured. Your thoughts are anything but cohesive now, a tangled mess of never finished phrases and assuming pictures of how it would end. 

But your body is too egoistic to care for logic or anything else but your pleasure: it wants him. You want him. Every small fiber of your being is building up with tension as Gabriel fucking Reyes presses his thumb against your clit, describing a small circle that earns a spasm from you; one that makes the shelf behind your back tremble. 

Your part open lips echo a moan that scratches your throat, reverberating in your ribcage. The sound is muffled, briefly terminated by your commander’s hands swiftly moving to cover your mouth, the ghost of his touch still lingering on your hips. “Keep it quiet,” he censors you, despite holding to a tone that you would consider quite loud itself. “I don’t want to kill anyone while I’m fucking you.”

Shit. Why does he have to sound so hot?

Maybe it’s because of his heavy breathing caressing your face, the tip of his cock smoothing your thigh and leaving a thin layer of precum on the skin, but… no. It’s his fingers, working you out in a hurry, as if you’d both explode if he didn’t devote himself to fuck you with his digits, pumping them inside of you without a care.

He didn’t bother to stretch you up, to care for any niceties but rubbing loose circles on your clit, not even a second kiss to your lips to be tasted. Gabriel was being crude, a sour flavor that should be spitted; yet you’re taking it, tasting it on your tongue as if he was the sweetest of honeys. And fuck, your moans are even more obscene when muffled by his hand. 

It’s hard to breathe, to not grind your hips against his palm when he delves too deep and his index finger hits a spot that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. It reaches a point where you were physically there, but your mind is elsewhere, reaching a fucking nirvana or something, going numb with the pleasure consuming your thoughts. He’s destroying you and you absolutely adore it.

You don’t know what will be left when he’s done with you, and fuck you do not care. If you did give a shit about anything, you wouldn’t be fucking your married commander in a storage room during a mission. 

Speaking of which, you nibble your teeth against his wet palm, and it’s enough for Reyes to remove it. Your face is damp with sweat, and the heavy air fills your lungs in between parted gasps. “I can’t—” he doesn’t take the hint to stop fingering you. Instead, his pace fastens, leaving an unfinished sentence hanging in the air as you bite your lip to restrain yourself. Takes a while for you to remember how to speak, meanwhile avoiding a scream that would certainly give up your hiding spot. But the bastard is doing such a marvelous job finding your sensitive spots the words find their way out of your mouth unevenly, strangled phrases shifting from mutters to high pitched statements. “I don’t want to cum on your fingers.”

“I wouldn’t mind if you did,” Gabriel’s response is sly, and you can hear the smile on his voice. A masochist to the bone, the fucker, who has been rubbing his dick against your thigh all this time, almost fucking the small gap between them when you whole body would tense and quiver from his touch. “Didn’t I say I would show you how much I hate you? That's just how.” 

To nominate every way in which Gabriel hated you: first, there’s his mouth, hovering just above the curve of your neck, pecking the skin ever so gently a chill runs down your spine. Second, his fingers are still thrusting inside of you without a rest, getting sloppy and sloppier as your wetness makes it hard for them to not slip and lose track among their thrusts. Your best evidence, of course, was his erection throbbing against your skin. 

And you want it inside of you so bad it’s a shame.

You can’t even get yourself to moan. They die in your chest before even getting the chance to be vocalized, sounding as hoarse groans or quiet whimpers. Fuck, a million times fuck. Tears flood your vision when the reaching point of tension is met with a violent tremble of your tights. 

The world around yourself dissolves as if Gabriel made everything into shadows, the mist of him crawling inside of you and still scratching from the outside; making everything turn into nothing, and filling once void spaces of coldness with a warmth erupting from your very core. 

It takes a single blink for the tears to fall down your lashes. You fumble through the nearest surface, feeling the wooden shelves and the dust covering them dirtying your fingers. Still, you can’t see anything: your mind is back to place after the bliss, but the darkness remains. Impenetrable, surrounding you, and now leaning for a kiss. 

He’s not desperate anymore. Gabriel’s kiss now tastes more as a triumph, guided by patience of someone who knows they’ve winned. What you don’t know yet, but as his tongue moves languidly against yours, there’s no room for anything else. He can take this one, it’s not like losing feels bad at all. 

Reyes cups your face with one hand, the affection of it enough for your body to crave for his violence once more. You don’t want his soft side, the light kisses and all that shit: forget about. A single rough tough of his is enough. 

The passions we burden ourselves with… you couldn't have been more careless choosing yours, legs already parted for him.

The tip of his cock brushes lightly against your sensitive folds, and you shiver hard enough for your teeth to collide mid-kiss. He doesn’t care, and neither do you. Your legs spread further, a silent invite that remains ignored while he busies himself with the teasing. “Reyes, really?” you breath out, exasperated as you part away from him, his tongue insisting to trace your lower lip while you state your frustration.

“If you wanted me to fuck you so bad you could’ve asked before,” he mutters in reply, and you can hear the grin in his tone again. “Right… you didn’t. Too busy gossiping with Cole about me to admit that you were the one who needed to get laid” you would’ve bitten back if Gabriel hadn’t chosen this precise moment to finally slide his cock inside of you, leaving little to no time for you to think of or at least try to swallow the moan erupting from your throat. The sound echoes through the walls, and Gabriel chuckles.

You didn’t care for an apology. If you were heard, it meant you had a few minutes before being spotted, and you intended to make the best out of it. Screw everything. What if your targets found you fucking your commander didn’t sound like a terrible possibility anymore, but a thrilling one.

Gosh, what did he make out of you?

Precisely, a mess. 

You groan, planting your feet on the ground and trying to remind your body on how to properly stand, but each smash of his hips against yours weakens your legs and has you almost slipping to the ground.

Fuck, he fills you so good. The length is not absurd, but damn he’s thick. At least his fingers did a great job at stretching you out so there’s no pain, just the overflowing feeling of being whole. The emptiness once aching to be filled is now gone, leaving space for something else to crawl under your skin.

Something feels utterly wrong, and controversially right at the same time. Gabriel is vicious, maybe that’s why. Despite the burn from your sore muscles, you don’t see yourself wanting him to be done any soon. Every ache is a distant echo in comparison with the higher volumes of your pleasure, whilst the afterglow is still lingering on your body, making every sparkle of sensation a burning fire. 

Gabriel’s breath is also hot against your face. His gasps for air are out of pace, getting deliciously worse whenever he stops after thrusting deep inside of you, nibbling on the skin of your chin and muttering nonsense to the curve of your neck.

You’ve never heard him like that, voice almost breaking within each syllab, struggling to finish a simple sentence. But the cursing… well, that you are familiar with.

“This fucking sweet cunt of yours,” Reyes would stop to grunt and catch his breath, the guttural reverberating through your body with an intensity that would make you quiver. “I’ll be filling you up sooner than I would like, damn you.”

“Can’t you quit the complaining not even when we’re fucking?” not you actually complaining, though. You’re so used to being around your commander when he’s tossing charge after charge that you’ve come to find it kind of hot, now that you’ve come to admit it.

“It could be worse. I could make you call me sir,” he sounds so damn smug replying, shit. If it wasn't for the dark room already, you’ve felt the urge to hide your face, swallow your pride and stay quiet. But it was so easy to retort when you can’t actually see him, nor expect his reaction. Gabriel is fucking you so good he could’ve say whatever comes up to his mind and you’d still be soaking wet for the man. 

“Fuck you, sir.”

“I’m busy fucking you already,” he smack his hips hard enough to earn a warm pain on your lower stomach, and you gasp, choking on whatever you’d say. “Tell me you’re not loving it.”

You can’t say shit in such a state despite your best efforts, which you think are better invested in keeping your feet to the ground and ease your struggle to stand when his thrusts flutter between intense and erratic. 

It’s overwhelming. Too much to take, but you do without a flinch. It was meant to be your anyways: his fleeting rage, the shallow breaths cursing out your name, a momentaneous passion that would burn until it consumed itself. The beginning of an end, starting now.

Gabriel’s body trembles on top of you, and all you can think of is holding on to him for dear life. Everything is still dark, but you close your eyes nonetheless and leave it for your body to fill the empty spaces; for him to bring oblivion upon you. 

That’s when everything else fades. You can still feel Gabriel inside of you, your walls clenching around his length and the impossible hardness of it. But there’s nothing else for you to hold onto: he’s gone again; a shadow. It touches your skin, a cold specter hovering above you; fucking you.

With a gasp, your eyes snapped open in astonishment and your body jolted forward into the dark, cold mist. Into Gabriel. Your voice calls his name, nothing but a forgotten plea, the echo of a memory losing itself in the void. You can’t get yourself to say nothing else, or think of anything but him while he cums inside of you.

You don’t know how long it takes for the afterglow to disperse, but you do know you can touch Gabriel again, hold him in your arms while his irregular breath is the only sound filling the silence.

What’s the best thing to say to your boss after he fucked you during a mission? You thought you had it figured out, but before you could say anything, Reyes’ voice cut through your thoughts. “You’ll have a hell of a story to tell Cole when we’re back.”