#the spider senses filling my brain~~~

[miraclecherryblossomsblog]

Guess who gets to see across the spiderverse tomorrow!!

YOOOOOOOOOOOOO NICE! hope u get the best seat in the theather!

And u get some very tasty popcorn too :3c

[rememberwren]

A Girl (Not Mine) || 1

Ghost is a little obsessed with Soap and a lot obsessed with Soap's girlfriend--you.

About this: ghoap/fem!reader, suspension of disbelief regarding anything military related is actually necessary for enjoyment, canon-typical trauma for Simon, intrusive thoughts, slut shaming, voyeurism, fingering, accidentally seeing nudes not meant for you, poor writing unless you squint, try squinting. 4k

-

“I’m so glad I got a girl to think of, 

Even though she isn’t mine.”

-

The first time Johnny mentions you, the 141 is fresh from a month-long leave.

Ghost has a love-hate relationship with time spent off duty. He’d like to enjoy it—to do fuck all, to hike through Clayton Vale twice in a day if it suits him, to drink tea for every meal. But all leave does is remind him of the glaring emptiness in his life, the one he usually fills with violence. So he spent the month climbing up the walls and crawling out of his skin, waiting to be called back like a dog brought to heel. 

Here was his comeuppance for craving something to fucking do instead of relaxing the way Price had told him to do. Now they were on their way to San Lorenzo in Ecuador dealing with Ghost’s least favorite flavor of criminal: drug cartels. 

It’s too close to Mexico. Too close to that which he would forget gladly if it didn’t come with the loss of so many valuable skill sets. He’s crawling out of his skin for a whole new reason, watching the water fly by beneath them, deep in memories. 

Ghost takes all those feelings, fears, remembrances and swallows them whole. Lets them sink to a sour, dark place in his belly. He sits tense on the helo, still except for the rise and fall of his chest, his rifle a familiar weight across his knees. Sometimes he has to shut his eyes, swallowing against the rising nausea. 

He only has half an ear on Garrick and Johnny’s conversation beside him, but it is all he needs to follow along. 

“—lass of my own now,” Johnny is saying around a laugh, his accent thick enough to chafe at Ghost’s skin in a way he doesn’t want to examine, one that leaves him feeling raw but not necessarily hurt. “So no more picking up the barflies back in Hereford.”

“She making an honest man out of you, Tav?” 

“Aye, you could say that.” Johnny sounds proud of the fact. It all is so far from anything Simon has experienced in his life that he feels no distant stirring of empathy, not even a muted sense of familiarity in the words. Honest men do not exist. 

Not to mention, Simon’s never had a woman (willingly) and he never will. 

“You love her?” Garrick asks, earnestly interested to hear the answer. Ghost couldn’t care less.

“Aye. There’s something special about her.” 

“What, she’s cool with anal?”

Johnny crows with laughter, and now Ghost does feel something: annoyance, cloying, creeping up his spine like a spider in a web headed for the wiggling maggot of his brain. 

“Will you two ever shut up?” he snaps. “Not a moment’s fucking peace since we boarded.”

“Sorry LT,” Johnny says, sounding genuinely apologetic. Ghost cuts his eyes toward the other man, assessing for honesty. Johnny’s face is too expressive: brows lifted, eyes wide and earnest, mouth tipped into a tiny grimace, like the thought of irritating Ghost gives him real pain. Between the two of them, Ghost can’t help but think that it’s Johnny who needs a mask if he wants to survive in the world. 

Ghost doesn’t have the energy for this. He goes back to watching the scenery pass by. They are over trees now: thick lush jungle, the scent of which he associates with pain—plenty of which was his own. Plenty of which he caused to others. 

“What about you, LT?” Johnny asks, calling out over the sound of the helicopter blades. “Do you have a woman back home?”

Ghost lets his head turn, slow and dangerous. Johnny’s audacity never fails to surprise him. “What do you think, Johnny?”

“Honestly?” 

“Go on, then.”

“You look like if yeh’ve got a woman, she’s probably locked in yer basement.” 

(right where she’d belong.)

Garrick slaps Johnny’s thigh, his face mottled with panic. He hisses under his breath, something like, There are faster ways to die, Tav! Less painful ways, too, Ghost thinks. He fixes Johnny with a dead stare. The silence stretches, growing long and thin and dangerous, like the blade of a knife, until Johnny looks away. 

“Think less about my private life, Sergeant,” he warns him. 

“Not often you tell me to think less, LT.” 

Ghost just grunts, finished with the conversation, returning his unseeing eyes to the trees and slipping back into his own memories. 

-

That should be—well, not the end of it. He expects Johnny to become insufferable about it; that’s just the other man’s way. Still, Ghost had never expected to see you. 

He’s doing paperwork in the rec room, too stifled by the tiny, enclosed space of his office to remain there. Paperwork and debriefing are always his least favorite parts of an op. Give him a gun with which to kill and he will gladly kill; give him a pen with which to write and he spends half the time thinking about burying it in his own eye. Garrick and Johnny are there nearby fucking around on their phones having finished with their easy portion of the work ages ago. 

A phone is what Johnny thrusts beneath Ghost’s nose. It takes all of his mental fortitude not to flinch away from the unexpected action (or, more likely, not to rip Johnny’s arm off and beat him half to death with it). His eyes flicker down to the screen on instinct and—there you are. 

You have one eye squinted shut, your hand up to create a visor against the overbearing sun. The picture shows you from the bust upwards, and Simon sees it for approximately one full second before he grips Johnny’s wrist in a brutal hold and forces the hand and the phone away. 

It’s already too late. He’s committed you to memory. The way your hair sits, its color in the blistering sun. The curve of your lips (fuckable, he thinks against his will) as you give Johnny behind the camera an exasperated smile. The arch of your nose (images now—fingers pinching noses shut, forcing mouths further down his cock just to watch them choke and struggle)—

“Get that out of my face,” he grits out through his teeth. His thoughts won’t stop, not now that the floodgates have been opened, and it makes him feel like a dog backed into a corner, frightened-violence rising up in the back of his throat like bile. 

—the smooth line of your throat (and his hands around it, choking the light from your eyes just to fuck you when you’re soft and pliable and he doesn’t have to listen to you crying and begging)—shut UP!—

“It’s just my girl, sir,” Johnny laughs, his own eyes flickering back down to your image on the phone, like they are drawn to you. Like it is hard to look away. Ghost doesn’t have that problem—he has some  discipline left. “And it’s not as if she’s naked.” 

Ghost grips the pen in his hand so tightly that the plastic shell cracks. He’s barely keeping it together, sick and afraid and horrified and angry that Johnny has done this to him—has done this to his own girl—

His voice is rough when he croaks out: “What makes you think I care to see her, Sergeant?” 

“‘S it wrong to share the most important person in my life with the other most important people in my life?” Johnny says, eyes too guileless to be taken seriously. 

“Share less,” he snaps. 

“Been saying that to me an awful lot lately, sir.” 

“A good Sergeant would take my words to heart.” 

“A good lieutenant would know a futile lesson when it’s biting him in the arse.”

Ghost’s eyes narrow. “Careful, Johnny. As much as I hate paperwork, I’d write you up—gladly.” 

Johnny gapes. “What for?”

Ghost grins without mirth, mask stretching around his features. Even grinning cruelly like this, his face feels unused to any expression that is adjacent to happiness. He swears darkly: “I’ll find a reason.”

It would send anyone else running. Even Garrick looks fearful, though fascinated: the same look a man wears when he’s watching a car crash in progress. But if sense were dynamite, Johnny wouldn’t have enough to blow his nose. Instead, he just flops down on the couch close enough to flutter the pages in Ghost’s lap. Close enough for their knees to brush. 

“Jesus, you’re a tadger today,” Johnny says quietly, boot knocking against Ghost’s, a touch he feels all the way up his leg. “Shove off some of that paperwork on us. What’s the use of being a lieutenant if you can’t lord it over your sergeants?”

“I’m sorry, us?” Garrick asks. 

“I don’t shirk my responsibilities, Johnny,” Ghost says coldly, gathering his papers. His elbow brushes against Johnny’s ribs, the firm, burning warmth of the other man’s body. He jerks away. He’ll take the stifling seclusion of his office, that makeshift coffin, before he subjects himself to any more of this. “You’d do well to follow my example.”

-

Ghost resolutely does not think of you. Not during quiet lazy moments on base, not during the frustration of training recruits, especially not during the eerie calm of missions. You do not cross his mind. 

His dreams are another thing altogether. 

There are the dreams where he hurts and the dreams where he is hurting, and he doesn’t know which are worse. He only knows that they are made worse by your strange presence: your body bent and being broken in by others; you, bent and being broken in by him. He wakes in cold sweats, jaw aching from gritting his teeth in his sleep. 

He hates himself for this last place where he cannot execute control: his subconscious. 

-

“Mail?” Johnny asks cheerfully at the sight of Garrick seated on the bench outside the DFAC, a stack of papers and letters laying on his lap. 

Johnny is sweaty, gray t-shirt clinging to his toned body as he (for once) keeps a companionable silence at Ghost’s side. They have been training recruits all day—work which Ghost considers far beneath his pay grade, but which he can’t refuse when ops are so slow to arrive and when he is so eager (desperate) to keep busy. Ghost lets himself sit heavily on the bench a safe distance away from Garrick, sweat cooling on his own body. 

He’s not ready to be alone yet. 

He’s allowed to do that. To want company. Of all the people on base, Garrick and Johnny (and Price) might be the most tolerable of the lot of them. During the rare moments when the pitiful piece of humanity left inside him craves companionship, this is the least painful method to mainline it. 

He ignores the lack of letters for him. There is no mail for Ghost—there never is. 

Garrick passes Johnny no less than four envelopes. Johnny’s soft smile as he flips through them speaks volumes. Ghost can guess who they’re from: his mother likely, who writes as often as she can. One of his various sisters, surely. Take your pick.  Out of the corner of his eye, he watches Johnny flip through the letters and settle on one in particular, thicker than the others, tearing it open and tugging the letter out. 

The pictures slip from the folded piece of paper and fall to the ground. 

Johnny dives to grab them, but all it does is bring Garrick’s attention to them more. Even Ghost’s interest is piqued, his dark eyes giving up pretending to watch the recruits limp back to their barracks to shower before dinner and following Johnny’s hasty movements instead, watching the hot flush that crawls up the back of his Sergeant’s neck. 

“What are those?” Garrick asks. 

“No’ a thing.” 

Garrick lights up. He practically tosses his letter to the side. “She sent you pictures?” 

“Possibly,” Johnny says smuggly, the images—old fashioned Polaroids, a nice touch—pressed to his chest. His eyes narrow at the expression on Garrick’s face. “Don’t even think about it, Gaz—!”

Garrick pounces. The two begin grappling, both of their faces split into wide grins. Johnny can only defend himself with one arm, his other protectively clutching the photographs to his bosom. They take each other to the ground and Ghost watches, half interested and half irritated, wondering who will win. 

The pictures go flying—and fate’s invisible bitch of a hand causes them to land at Ghost’s feet. Garrick and Johnny freeze.

He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t, the same way he knows that he’s going to. Ignoring their renewed struggles on the ground as they fight to untangle themselves and stand, he leans down and reaches for the photographs.

The white of the Polaroid’s edges contrast nicely with his dark gloves as he gathers the pictures together like a deck of scattered cards. 

“LT—“

They’re relatively tame. Perhaps you knew the high risk of sending them. In one you are kneeling on a bed amongst a sea of mussed, white sheets, wearing nothing but a t-shirt that you have tugged down between your parted thighs to offer yourself some modesty. It is painful to flip to the next one, but pain calls to Ghost, lures him in. In another you’re wearing some strappy lingerie but still covered artfully by the sheets, both hands covering your eyes, a grin on your face like you are mid laugh. Did Johnny take these photos of you himself? Did a stranger? A friend? Another shows your side profile, back arched, topless, every inch of you curved and poised. 

You’re (a filthy little slut) so fucking pretty. 

“Give ‘em back, LT, please,” Johnny asks gently, like he expects Ghost to tear them to shreds. Or confiscate them. 

Ghost drops the photographs to the bench, wishing he could scrub the images of you from his mind. He shouldn’t have picked them up in the first place. It’s adding fuel to the fire of his broken brain, and he knows that he will pay for it dearly. 

Johnny is talking. “—shy, she’d just die to know you saw.”

“She’ll only know if you tell her, Johnny,” Ghost reminds him. His mouth feels numb, his brain the quiet granted by white noise, a conglomerate of screams. 

Johnny frowns. “Suppose so. You alright?” 

“Since Ghost saw—“ 

“No, Gaz.” 

Ghost watches the two of them enter the building. 

His hand burns, where he has palmed the picture of you topless. He stands and slips the Polaroid into his back pocket. It’s on the tip of his tongue to call out for Johnny and give him the picture back—he could find some excuse, and Johnny would believe him, he knows it—but he doesn’t. He makes for his room, feeling sick with himself. He isn’t hungry. Not for food. 

-

Ghost is compromised. 

The thought replays in his mind over and over again as he drives to Price’s house in Solihull. You and Johnny have crawled beneath his skin and infected him, dug your way into his DNA and are affecting everything from his decision making capabilities to his dreams. He knows that going anywhere where you both will be is a mistake, but it’s one he can’t seem to help hurdling himself toward at high speed. 

Nothing will happen, he tells himself, knuckles white against the steering wheel. He only does what he allows himself to do—no more. The others will be there at least, Garrick and Price and Johnny himself. Physical barriers between him and you. Human meat shields, if necessary. Ghost wouldn’t dare to lay a finger on you. (But who would stop him if he tried? Who could?) You are safe, he tells himself. 

He is the last to arrive, dragging his feet up the concrete steps to the two story brick historical home that Price owns. He lets himself in the way that Price told him to and can tell by the eerie silence of the house that everyone is already outside enjoying the well-landscaped yard. Already he sees the evidence of you: a purse (go through it) laid neatly on the dining room table. He sets his keys beside it but does not touch it. 

Ghost doesn’t bother trying to delay the inevitable. Every part of him wants to run, but that’s all he’s ever wanted his whole life. He’s used to it by now, used to being forced to walk toward the thing which terrified him. He squares his shoulders and slides open the patio door, slipping back out into the muggy heat of the afternoon, face mask in place, hood up.  

The landscaping is one of the best features of Price’s house. The privacy fence is tall and appealing to Ghost’s seclusive nature, the lawn neatly clipped. There is a hedgerow running along the southern edge of the fence that is meticulously maintained. Flower beds lined with bricks rest along the house full of geraniums and phlox. The patio is smooth stone with an inlaid fire pit that would be crackling if the weather were any milder. An iron-wrought table sits nearby surrounded by chairs, and seated there are Garrick, Johnny, and Price. 

You are over by the flowers, kneeling in the soft grass, picking phlox just a few shades darker than the sundress you’re wearing, the one that skims your soft thighs. Ghost’s eyes roam over you and away all before your head even turns at the sound of the door opening. 

“LT,” Johnny calls, lighting up. “You made it!” 

“Didn’t think you’d show, Lieutenant,” Garrick says with a smile. 

“As if he’s got something better to be doing than spending time with us,” Johnny crows. 

“Jesus, will you two leave the man alone? Wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already regretting coming,” Price says. Ghost inclines his head, grateful for the backup. 

He hears your approach, the soft sound of your flats against the patio stone. You are small (weak) compared to him, craning your head up to look in his eyes. He hates the dark part of his brain that calls you easy prey as he watches you twist the phlox stems between anxious fingers. 

“You must be Simon—” Johnny shakes his head a little, subtle, visible only out of the corner of Ghost’s eye. “—ah—Ghost? I mean—” 

“I don’t care what you call me,” he admits.

“Ghost,” you settle where it is nice and safe. “It’s nice to meet you. John talks about you all the time.”

“Likewise,” Ghost says flatly, hoping you will not mistake it for a compliment. 

Garrick snorts. “Never shuts up about you is more likely.”

There aren’t enough chairs for everyone, so you sit on Johnny’s lap, legs crossed demurely, skirt riding up around your upper thighs. He wonders about the softness of your skin, wonders if his calloused touch would hurt you or if you’re used to Johnny’s by now. He could make it hurt. The thought doesn’t come with any zing of pleasure, just the cold apathy of fact. Has Johnny ever tried that? Has he ever—

Ghost’s gloved hand clenches into a fist, curling around the iron armrest of the chair. He takes a measured breath and holds it until his lungs ache. Those thoughts aren’t his own. They come from the dark part that Roba seeded inside him, that part with creeping vines too deep to root out. That part with thorns. 

He could hurt you, the same way he could hurt anyone, he tells himself. But he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to. 

He does only what he allows himself to do. No more. No less. 

You and Johnny stand, heading into the house to retrieve a round of drinks for everyone. Ghost watches Johnny’s hand dip low on your back to the curve of your ass as he guides you through the open door, shutting it behind you. 

“Are you alright, Simon?” Price asks around a cigar. “I know meeting new people isn’t exactly in your repertoire.”

“Don’t mother me.”

“Don’t have to be your mother to care about you.”

“Garrick—get lost,” Ghost barks. 

The iron chair legs screech against the stone of the patio as Garrick stands hastily. “Had the same thought, sir. Hedges look lovely this time of year.”

When Garrick is properly out of earshot, pretending to find amusement in the neat hedgerows along the fence line, Ghost says: “I shouldn’t have come. I’m… I— can’t be left alone with her.” 

“With—? Soap’s gal?”

Ghost grits his teeth in shame and nods. 

“Do you know her?” 

Ghost shakes his head in the negative, but it’s not necessarily true. He knows a thousand women just like her, soft and unexpecting. The betrayal always cuts deeper than his cock could reach (estoy preso, somos lo mismo, por favor).

He stands, chair legs dragging against the stone. “This was a mistake. I need to leave.” 

“If you say so,” says Price, knowing better than to argue. “Go around the side. You won’t even have to see them.” 

“My keys are inside. I’ll be quick.” 

“Take care of yourself, Simon,” says Price, his eyes dark and lips downturned as he watches Ghost stalk to the patio door and slip inside. 

-

He braces himself to see you and Johnny in the kitchen, but when the door slides open near-silent, neither of you are anywhere to be seen. Like a fool, he considers himself lucky. Quiet as his namesake, Ghost goes to the table and picks up his keys, palming them. 

That’s when he hears it. The unmistakable muted slap of flesh on flesh. 

(Go look.)

He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t, but that is his modus operandi these days: failing himself, doing what he isn’t meant to, seeing what is not for his eyes. His feet carry him silently to the door, which is cracked open just wide enough for him to see through into the room. It is a guest bedroom judging by the bland decor, the queen sized bed. Johnny has you sprawled on it, your sundress hitched up around your waist, his fingers buried to the final knuckle inside your cunt. Ghost can hear the way it squelches from all the way outside the door, knows that you must be dripping down Johnny’s wrist. 

“Keep quiet, love,” Johnny pants, one hand over your mouth (he’s not doing it right) to muffle the whines and groans trying to slip past your lips. “Needy little thing, aren’t yeh? Squirming in my lap, making my cock hard right there in front of my Captain, in front of my Lieutenant—“

You whine something back, but it is lost into his palm. 

“Don’t have time to get my cock in you,” Johnny sighs, twisting his fingers inside you, hooking them to press against that tender spot past your pubic bone that has your knees knocking together. He shifts his palm down to grip your neck, your panting breaths filling the room. “But you can bet this dress is coming off as soon as we’re home, do y’hear me?”

“Yessir,” you whisper, and it has Ghost’s cock throbbing. 

This is not for him. He thinks about Johnny’s words from months ago: that you are shy. There’s no chance you would ever want to be seen like this by him. Reaching out, he grips the doorknob and quietly tugs the door closed, til the sound of Johnny’s palm slapping against your clit is muffled behind the wood. 

He takes his keys and is gone before you ever know he was there. 

-

Johnny texts him later that night: 

Why’d you leave early, you numpty? We wanted more time with you. 

Ghost doesn’t respond. He’s too busy spiraling in his own flat, losing control every few minutes and slipping back into that place of pain and blood and dirt. 

An hour later, Johnny ends up adding, My girl wants me to say she was glad she got to meet you. Only Jesus knows why! Ghost definitely doesn’t respond to that. But he doesn’t delete the messages either.

[beautysamour]

ok, confession time.

pairing: miguel o’hara x reader

summary: confession time ٩( ᐛ )و

warnings: none.

a/n: I caved…

“Alright, hear me out.” “No.”

Miguel interrupts without missing a beat. You scoff as you watch him turn his back to you as he refocuses on the many projectors in front of him. “All that technology is going to rot your brain,” you mumble out under your breath.

“What?”

“Nothing. Anyways,” you curl your two middle fingers inward towards your palm as you direct a web to the floating island Miguel was on. “As I was saying, hear me out.” You hear a distressed sigh coming from the man in front of you but decided to brush it off. He was going to hear you out.

He remained silent, an indirect indication for you to continue your thoughts.

“Being stressed all the time is going to do no good for the spiderverse.”

“Arachnoid humanoid poly multiverse.”

“Yeah, that, so as I was saying… having one dinner wouldn’t doom the multiverse.”

Another sigh was let out this time, but this time it was out of exhaustion. He calls out your name causing your back to straighten as he finally turns to face you.

“The fate of the multiverse,” he begins before getting cut off by a web, coming from you, connecting with his torso and jerking him towards your direction.

He tilted his head at you once you stopped pulling him closer, leaving probably three centimeters of space between you two.

He wasn’t surprised by this action, no, you’ve done this multiple times. Pulled him too close for comfort, causing all logical thoughts in his brain to short circuit as it filled with thoughts of you.

You could hear his heartbeat. It’s one of the pros that come with being a spider person, your heightened senses. In moments like these where your own heartbeat was far too hard for you control you’d rely on his to calm you down, however it seemed to have done the opposite.

Why was it so fast?

Hearing your name managed to take you out of your momentarily dazed self.

“Is everything alright?” Miguel, whose body was practically leaning on yours, lightly shook you for he was disturbed by your suddenly quiet self.

“Yeah,” you replied far too quickly as you forced yourself to take a few steps back to create some distance between you two.

“Anyways,” you stuttered out, “I was just going to say how you always loose me whenever you start talking about the multiverse. Yeah, always manages to make my brain shut off.”

Miguel stared at you confused as you start to awkwardly ramble on about how the very premise of the multiverse is strange.

“And it’s so weird how technically-“

“Stop talking.”

You immediately close your mouth.

For the third time tonight, Miguel lets out a sigh as he closes the distance between the two of you. One second your mouth is opening to question why he’s taking more steps than necessary, and the next it’s occupied by the mouth of his.

When you don’t push him away and instead lean into his body, his hand travels up to your neck and his thumb presses against the area where your adams apple would’ve been to tilt your head up slightly more.

The one to end the kiss first is you, Miguel attempts to follow and close that distance once again but gets interrupted by the hand you put on his chest to stop him.

For a second Miguel starts to think he read the entire situation wrong. But you leaned into him so what does that mean-

“Miguel,” you begin saying softly and you looked up at him, “how did you know,” when he gives you a blank expression you let out a small snicker before continuing, “that I liked you.”

He tilts his head again as he looked down at you, “You thought I wasn’t able to sense your heartbeat? Cariño, even though I don’t have the spider sense that you have, my senses are still heightened.”

“Oh,” you say dumbfounded. Right.

“Yeah,” he says quietly as he tries to kiss you again.

“Wait,” you interrupt. “So, do you…like me too?”

“…We just kissed.”

“Yeah but, friends with benefits exist-“

Miguel groaned as you began to ramble on about how kissing doesn’t mean requited feelings, and while he understood what you were saying he’d much rather feel your lips on his than watch them speak about a scenario that wasn’t the case with this situation.

“Ok, then how about we get dinner.”

You widened your eyes at his words, a smile threatens to show on your face but you try to keep your composure, “…Ok. So…is this a date?”

“Yes,” he exhales, “Yes, it will be a date.”

“Ok.” You say excitedly before connecting a web with the ground beneath you two and jumping down, “See you in…?”

“Does thirty minutes sound good?”

“Yeah,” you start to smile, “yeah, thirty minutes sounds good.” You give him an actual smile before turning around getting ready to run through the halls of hq to tell Peter and Mayday all about this interaction.

“Ok,” Miguel says under his breath as he watches you leave.

“Why are you so awkward?”

“Lyla shut up.”

[igotanidea]

Too hot to handle: Jason Todd x reader

SMUT MDNI!

As usual sorry for all the typos, grammar mistakes etc. I really had to post it XD

***

Y/N was fuming.

For no reason at all, falling down the internet hole, she found herself on some stupid forum for stupid horny women who couldn't keep it in their pants.

Clearly those bitches were getting hot and bothered for Red Hood, shamelessly sharing their dirty thoughts and comments on some parts of his body and the things he'd let him do if--

Fuck.

She could have Tim or Babs trace their IP addresses in a second and could pay them a visit of a very possessive, angered and super jealous girlfriend.

Her hands were almost itching to write a few spicy comments herself, spilling the beans of whose body Red Hood was touching almost every night. Whose lips he was devouring. Whose most sensitive parts he was tasting with his tongue, begging for as much as a drop of sweetness. Whose moans and gasps he got to hear, whose voice was his drug, whose curves he was worshiping on his knees.

Obviously, she couldn't do that, but the thought of Jason's muscled body on top of her, his hands tracing her skin and joining her in the intimate dance had a side effect seeping through her panties. 

She needed him. 

With the need that could not be satisfied with her fingers or even the toys she had stacked safely in the locked bottom drawer.

Jason ...

Come home...

Can't you sense how much I want you now...

She almost prayed to the moon on the sky to bring her lover back to her. 

***

That little tingling on his skin was something new and as much as he hated to put the thought into words, it was like a spider-sense. The one of Y/N’s second favorite self-appointed hero – spiderman.

Y/n…

Was that feeling because she was in danger?

Did someone hurt her? Did anyone dare lay a finger on his precious girl?

Jason gritted his teeth, clenching fists, anger at a purely potential enemy flooded his brain.

It was a quiet night either way, giving him a perfect opportunity to take a quick detour and check on his angel. Just a look and assurance that she was safe, to help him keep going and push him through all the shit and doubts.

Y/n….

***

He did not expect her to sit in front of Netflix at 2 am. She had work in the morning so why on earth was she watching the series?

“Hey!” he called, probably a little bit too loud, causing her to jump on the couch and almost drop the mug. “Sorry…”

“Next time give me a heads up, will you?” she muttered with a pout.

“Um- okay. What’s with the attitude?”

“Nothing.” Y/N scoffed angrily, turning back to the TV.

“Can I please get my girlfriend back? You know, the other one? Nice and caring? The one who would ask me if I’m hurt or maybe need patching or a post-patrol kiss?” Jason teased moving in front of the screen, successfully blocking it from her view. “Wait… Y/N, are you watching “Too hot to handle?" His laugh filled the room, because honestly that might have been the funniest thing in the whole week. His serious, a bit reserved, goody-two-shoes girl had her eyes on the show about horny singles.

“Shut up…”

“Oh, I will most definitely not shut up about it. Are you hinting at something, here? Cause you know, you don’t need a show like this if—” he switched a little, coming closer and leaning over her silhouette on the couch

“Shut up, Jason!”

“Whoa!” his hands raised in feigned surrender “someone’s feisty today, aren’t you?”

“I’m not feisty. I’m furious!”

“At what?”

“Girls!”

“Wait, what?” Jason frowned “I am confused.

“Girls! Women! The ones who are trying to bang and –”

“I thought you liked banging?” he sent her a knowing smirk

“Jason!”

 “Come on, sunshine, you cannot hide that blush.” He pointed out, brushing fingers over her reddened cheeks, raising her head so she had to look into his eyes “What’s gotten into you? Tell me the truth.”

“Stupid internet.”

“Mhm. Okay. Care to elaborate?”

“Did you know the girls are getting hot for the Red Hood on some stupid forum?”

“Nope. Did not. But… did it make you jealous?” he smirked, expecting her to deny and squirm in embarrassment that he accused her of such low feelings.

“Yeah…” Much to his surprise, she decided to be honest. It truly was a strange night. “Yeah, I was. Jealous and furious. Hence the “Too hot to handle” marathon.”

“Hm? Can’t see the correlation.”

“It’s so shallow and selfish and mean, but – the show is so silly and most possibly fabricated. I may, or may not have been trying to diminish women who are openly horny….?” Her voice became barely audible at the end, as if she was ashamed to admit her own .

“Oh, you silly little one.” Jason laughed, pulling her onto his lap and brushing hair out of her forehead. “You could have led with that.” His lips brushed over her forehead

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“You should have told me, that coming across girls leching over me-“

“Over Red Hood!” she interrupted and he only laughed again.

“Over me” he underlined  “- got your knickers in a twist.”

“It did not!”

Great, now she was trying to deny it. Too bad it was too late and he was in the mood for the games anymore. He felt the need to assure her that she was the one, though also expressing appreciation for said open horniness and for a little bit of jealousy. It made his ego soar.

“Didn’t it?” he teased, grabbing onto her waist and laying her on her back, hovering over her, moving fingers up her leg, until it reached the hem of her sleeping shorts. “Maybe I should check myself then?”

His hand brushed over the inside of her thigh, causing her to let out a sharp exhale.

“Oh, right… My little minx is not wearing panties at all. So it seems like you have been telling the truth after all. You did not get them in a twist…”

He leaned forward, pressing his lips to her, a sudden sweet distraction allowing him to yank those silly little shorts down, exposing her want without any care in the world. Opening her legs and wrapping them on his waist, without breaking the kiss for even a second, Jason pressed his weight on her, distributing it evenly on his forearms, to not crash her.

“Mmm. Tease.”

“And you love every second of it.” He smirked, grinding against her core, sacrificing his favorite tactical pants to her warmth and wetness. Not much of an exorbitant price for what was waiting at the finish line.

And even though it was just the beginning of the marathon, they were already gasping heavily, grasping onto each other, pulling each other closer and closer. She was so needy and he loved it. The more bothered she was, the easier it got for him to end on the winner’s podium. His cock was hardening by a second, making it almost painful to be kept in the pants, but he was holding back.

“Jason…” she moaned, reaching down his torso, sneaking hand under the waistband.

“Not yet, baby.” All she got in return was her hands pinned above her head in a very vulnerable position, completely at his mercy. And to add to it all, Jason lips attached to her pulse point, sucking the sensitive skin, making sure to leave a dark purple hickey. The one she wouldn’t be able to cover easily. “Not yet…” the grip on her wrists faltered for a second, but not enough to allow her to break free.

Jason was skillful and knew exactly what he was doing.  Feeding her with the false hope of freedom only for a second, only to grab her hands in one hand, using the other to roll her sleeping shirt up, exposing her breasts, but not taking it off fully.

“Hello, lovelies…” he muttered, before diving between her tits, getting the arching back and multiple sounds of pleasure in return. “Yeah… keep those sounds coming, baby…”

His lips traced a scorching path down her cleavage, making her want skyrocket, smirking upon the feeling of her legs tightening on his waist and her hips grinding against her jeans.

“Not yet.” He commanded again, pressing her back flat onto the couch. “Not yet…” his eyes flashed with something primal and animalistic. There was something devilishly turning on with having her naked under him, while he didn’t shed a single piece of clothing. And he was going to exploit that opportunity to the maximum.

With a quiet laugh that sounded almost sinful, Jason bent down and traced tongue over the flesh of her soft, warm breast, purposefully avoiding the little pink button that was begging for his attention. Yes, his ego was skyrocketing upon hearing her cries of pleasure and broken gasps of his name on her swollen lips, followed by the flexing of her body against his touch.

Yes, he might have been acting a little dominant, but they both knew it was not going to go on forever. 

Deep inside Jason was sweet and romantic, definitely putting soft, tender lovemaking over hard and rough sex.

And really, it didn’t take him long to give in to her pleadings and entreaties, moving lips to her nipple, sucking and biting on it gently.

“Oh yes!” she cried out, closing her eyes and from that moment things started taking on the pace. Jason groaned from the sensation of her breast in his mouth, letting go of her wrists, allowing her hands to tangle in his hair, only adding to the feelings burning inside his chest and groin. Abandoning lavishing attention on her chest, he guided her hands to the hem of his shirt and with  interlaced fingers and eyes never faltering from each other’s face they pulled it over his head, exposing his toned upper body, covered with fresh bruises and cuts.

“So you are hurt…” she whispered, touching the pads of her fingers to the newest purple mark on his pec.

“I didn’t notice…” his voice was deep, calming and full of adoration “All I notice right now is you…” he grabbed her hand pressing it to his lips, kissing all over her knuckles.

“Then come feel me too…” she moved upwards, pressing her lips to his, wanting to feel that chapped warmth on hers. And once their mouths met it was a sensation incomparable with anything else. Ironically (or not) making out like this, with their entwined bodies, separated only by the material of his pants, slowly, tenderly, focused only on each other, leaving the whole world behind was turning her on more than actual penetration.

Which did not mean she didn’t want to go all the way.

“Is it time yet?” she whispered, with a little bit of teasing in her voice, breaking the kiss only for a second.

“You are ruining the moment, sunshine.” He chuckled, tracing kisses up her cheek, all the way to her ear, softly biting on her earlobe, causing more tickling than actual pain. Y/N responded with a little chuckle as well, cupping his cheek, bringing his lips back to hers once more. Without breaking the making out for even one second, Y/N removed his belt and undid the button on his pants. Then, with a few kicks and swings of legs, they managed to set him free from his confines, finally feeling each other from head to toe.

“How’s your jealousy doing now…?” he teased, guiding himself to her entrance, grabbing onto her waist, rolling his fingers in tiny circles on her sensitive skin.

“Who’s ruining the moment now?”

“No idea. Who?” he chuckled. It was so good being with her like this. In the moment of intimacy, that was meaningful but deprived of the seriousness that could ruin the tenderness. Perfect mix of softness and love, seasoned with a bit of well balanced humor and  sarcasm that bonded them in the first place. “You ready for me, baby?”

“So ready.” She smiled, shifting and squirming to allow him to slide inside better and maximize the pleasure of unity for them both.

“Mh. Hello there…” he smirked and without missing a bit started to move inside her. Slowly, but intensely. Building up and drawing the tension. Moving hands on her body in time with the thrusts, fueling the fire that was meant to warm but not burn. “Is this what you wanted?” he looked at her face searching for the answers behind those e/c eyes, filled with longing and devotion.  

“Yeah… Good thing you helped me realize what it was that I wanted…” she started matching his movements, kissing him again.

The tension between their bodies was building slowly and steadily. There was no rush. They had all the time in the world, that suddenly shrunk to only them two.

Jason and Y/n.

Y/n and Jason.

Together.

Connecting seamlessly, with bodies joined and heart beating only for one another. Creating their own bubble of beauty and wonder in the darkness and danger of Gotham.

“I love you…” he muttered, leaning forehead on hers, needing to say those words before everything turn into the blur and haze due to the slowly approaching tidal wave of climax.

“I love you…” she responded, feeling the exact same need, knowing well enough that those three little words exchanged before the post-bliss was far more meaningful and far more true.

***

“How’s the hate on horny women doing now?” he muttered against her hair, some time later. It could have been minutes as well as hours cause once they busted the pleasure door open time suddenly became relative and meaningless.

“Hm? What women? Wait a second. Are you really trying to tell me there are other women somewhere?’ she looked at him with a tease, raising an eyebrow playfully. “I am fairly convinced there are only you and me. No other men or women anywhere.”

“Hm… What I’m hearing is that I’m the only guy in the world for you?”

“It depends on—”

“Because sure as hell you are the only woman for me.” He added quickly, knowing what her condition was. “And no silly internet forum or contestant of so-called hot, naughty Netflix show could change it.”

“You got soft, Red Hood.” She smiled, nuzzling into his chest and placing a little kiss on his chest, close to his heart

“I can be hard when it counts, though.” His heart picked up the pace as her lips touched his skin “Honestly I can be anything you may need from me.”

“How about we both stay ourselves?”

“Works for me.”

Jason's arms wrapped around her pulling her to his chest for more and more aftercare and cuddles. It was a quiet night after all and he could indulge in some time with his beloved Y/N.

[vivid-ink]

Kinktober #1 - Handjob "Mission Accomplished"

fem!HumanReader x Neteyam or Lo'ak (you pick! 😉)

Summary: You've been asked to fill in for Norm on one of his Na'vi patient observations, except this isn't any old observation appointment... You need to collect a semen sample and the appointment doesn't go at all to professional plan...

Warnings: 🔞 Sexual content 18+, MDNI 🔞 Word count: 4.6k

Author's Note: Happy Kinktober everyone! 😁 I'm late with this prompt as it was completely unplanned. I got inspired late last night after posting Part 4 of 'The Love Shack' and this is what my brain spat out! As usual, my inability to write short drabbles means that what was meant to be a short, sweet kink-scene turned out to be 4.6k. I've not used any names in this piece, so you're free to imagine either Neteyam or Lo'ak as the male lead in this. Enjoy the spice ya'll!

Tagging some mooties who may be interested (no pressure though): @pandoraslxna @blue-slxt @adrianarose7 @vintaqestar @eyweveng @qcswrites @daeneeryss @oasiswithmyg @delacruzyari @teymars @neteluvr @sulieykte @teyamsatan

And OMG (I feel absolutely rotten for overlooking this until now) - Thank you to the incredible @cinetrix for her render of Neteyam which I've used in the story cover.

You swallowed tightly as Dr Blaise briefed you around the purpose of today’s observation and what was required of you. Your heart was galloping in your chest and you could feel yourself breaking out into a nervous sweat. It amazed you how unconcerned and unaffected she was about the whole thing.

“It’s a simple observation. We’re looking for any key physical differences in appearance, as well as any differences in physiological function.” Dr Blaise stated casually, “No swabs or bloods needed today. Just some notes, photos, and a semen sample. There are sample collection jars in the consultation bay already.”

A semen sample… Good Lord, she said that with all the nonchalance of someone asking for a saliva sample. Though you figured that’s what medical professionalism was all about, right? No awkwardness, no emotion, just plain science and fact.

When Dr Norm Spellman had said that he was writing a book about Pandoran Biology and Na’vi Physiology, you’d jumped at the opportunity to be involved. After all, Pandora was your home. It was the only home you’d ever known. As one of the only two human babies to be born on Pandora, you and Spider were the only generation of humans who’d never known the dying mother planet Earth.

Unlike Spider though who had taken to life on Pandora like a duckling to water, scaling trees, swinging from branches and pretty much adopting himself into the Omatikaya clan, you weren’t anywhere near as outgoing. You’d stuck to the medical labs and the avatar camp for majority of your life, rarely venturing out into the wilderness except to accompany the other scientists on their excursions. Perhaps the only similarity you shared with Spider was that you too were an orphan of war. Your parents had been on the frontlines of the battle between Toruk Makto and the RDA, and they’d met their maker on that fateful day.

You were just an intern currently, but the older staff and scientists were more than willing to teach you. Doing lab observations, drawing blood and other lab technician work was your job, so this morning’s appointment shouldn’t have been any different. And yet it was.

You’d never had to collect a semen sample before.

“Patient is a young unmated male, 23 years of age. Fit. Occupation is hunter-warrior. No pre-existing medical conditions and no recent injuries.” Dr Blaise rationally, handing you the clipboard and pen, “The patient has also been briefed about this appointment, so he knows what to expect and he’s aware he needs to produce a sample.”

“Right, understood.” You mumbled and the words were slightly hoarse. You cleared your throat, dislodging the sticky lump of uneasiness there.

Sensing your discomfort, Dr Blaise placed a heartening hand on your shoulder. Her eyes were kind and the crows’ feet at their corners crinkled as she smiled, “Look, the patient is friendly with the team, one of Jake Sully’s sons actually. So you needn’t worry about any hostility. You’ve done numerous observations and collected all sorts of samples. This is no different. It’s only awkward if you’re awkward. Besides, I’m sure you can understand why Dr Spellman didn’t want to conduct this particular observation himself, what with them being family friends and all.”

A giggle and snort left you at the humorous thought and you found you had to agree. Dr Blaise chuckled alongside you. It would definitely be ten times more awkward if the patient and medical professional were familiar with each other during this observation.

The fleeting moment of hilarity eased the nervous roil in your belly. Tucking your pen into the breast pocket of your lab coat, you took a deep breath and nodded, “Ok, I’ve got this. Thanks Dr Blaise.”

With two thumbs up and a wink, Dr Blaise turned and left you to depart down the corridor, her black pump heels clicking neatly across the hard floor.

Turning to the wall, you grabbed an exopack kit and hooked it to the leather belt around your hips. Tucking your hair behind your ears, you positioned the mask over your face and returned to the doorway that led into the consultation bay. The doorway was tall, much taller than you were used to. All the consultation bays were built big enough with high enough ceilings to accommodate the Na’vi and the avatars. While the main ventilation in the compound was suited to human lungs, the consultation bays were fitted with ventilation to suit their Pandoran patients. Scanning your ID card on the panel of blinking lights on your right, the door slid open with a hiss and you stepped into the bay.

The first thing that always hit you when you entered any of the consultation bays was the sterile scent of it. After a couple of years working here you’d think you’d have got used to it, but every single time the smell was like a synthetic slap to your senses. You wrinkled your nose in distaste. Everything smelled so chemical; too clean and too artificial. It was no wonder the Na’vi didn’t like being in here. If the smell was strong to your human nose, you could only imagine how much more potent it was to their heightened senses.

The second thing to hit you this morning was the sight of the magnificent creature that was standing in the corner of the bay, peering at the various medical models, instruments and books in the wall-mounted glass cabinet. He’d been facing away from you at first, but the sound of your footsteps had caught his attention and he turned to face you then.

A genial smile stretched across his face and he greeted you in a voice that was deep and warm, “Good morning, doctor.”

His use of English surprised you and while his words were accented, his pronunciation was clear. Go figure that Jake Sully would’ve taught his children to speak his mother tongue.

You gave a clumsy laugh and you were quick to correct your patient, “Oh, I’m not a doctor. I’m just an intern. I’m just filling in for Dr Spellman for this observation.”

Your patient grinned toothily at you and gave a nod of his head in acknowledgement, although his tone was teasing when he replied, “Alright Dr ‘Just-An-Intern’, where would you like me?”

You couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled up from your throat at his playful demeanour. You smiled at him. He was charming this one, handsome too. Like all Na’vi, he towered well above you in height at approximately nine and a half feet. Though you noted that he was very well-built. Courtesy of being a warrior, you supposed. Yes, he was muscular in all the places you appreciated in a male… You silently reprimanded yourself for your unprofessional thoughts.

“Just take a seat on that gurney for me.” You replied, gesturing towards the make-shift bed against the wall. Retrieving your pen, you began to scan through the notes at the top of the form on the clipboard, double-checking the patient’s details and ensuring everything on it was as it should be.

“Ah, do you want me to take my tewng (loincloth) off?”

Suddenly remembering the aim of the observation again, you felt hot blood rush to your cheeks and ears in embarrassment, “Umm, yes please.” And in a bid to stop your embarrassment running away with your courage, you launched into a rambling outline of the appointment agenda, “Today’s appointment is an observation around Na’vi male genitalia and sexual function. I’m going to need to make some notes and take some photographs of you, both in a r-relaxed and a-aroused state, and I’m going to need to collect a s-semen sample. If you feel uncomfortable at any point…”

He watched you attentively as you babbled onward, the smooth skin of your face and neck taking on a ruddy and flushed hue. He smiled to himself. You were shy and today’s agenda clearly made you uneasy. He felt a twinge of empathy for you. His father had told him that humans were private about matters of the body, especially where it came to sex and pleasure. The Na’vi held no such restraints; sexual freedom was celebrated.

He’d already removed his tewng and had perched himself on the gurney as instructed, unbothered and uncaring of his own nakedness. He was quietly enjoying your discomfort, but not in a rude or condescending manner. He actually found your unease rather endearing.

“Any questions?” Your prattling came to a finish and you took a deep inhale as if you’d squeezed every last ounce of oxygen out of your lungs rushing to finish your speech without taking another breath.

He graced you with another charming smile, “No. You may proceed.”

Willing yourself to get a grip, you walked on slightly shaky legs to the desk in the corner and plucked the glass tablet from its stand and returned to place it on the end of the gurney. You kept your eyes lowered to your clipboard, filling in the date and the time. You could see the striped cobalt of his muscular legs in your peripheral vision where he sat with his shins dangling off the gurney. For the meantime, you dared not glance any higher than his thighs…

Your eyes moved to a set of highlighted bullet points in the middle of the page that indicated questions the patient had to be asked.

You read the first question aloud, its meaning registering simultaneously in your brain as the words left your lips, “When was the last time you ejaculated?”

You fought the mortification that threatened to consume you and your mind struck up a chant of ‘stay professional, stay professional’ in your head.

“Yesterday morning.” His answer was composed.

“And was that with a partner or was it self-stimulated?” Fuck, maybe you should’ve read the questions before coming in for the observation…

“It was self-stimulated.”

“And do you have a preference for male partners, female partners, or both?”

“Female. Definitely female.”

His voice was a smooth, velvety rumble. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but something in his tone stroked over you like an invisible caress that made something clench in your lower belly. You scribbled his answers on the page in a messy scrawl that had more to do with your nerves than your actual style of handwriting.

He continued to observe you as you worked. Your knuckles were pale where your left hand gripped hold of the clipboard and you were so focused, almost concentrating too hard on what you were writing. Nose twitching quietly, he parted his lips and scented the air around. The artificial smell of the bay was unpleasant, but a sweeter and much more appealing smell was filling the vicinity now. Your scent.

The blush on your skin remained and he was sure that if he reached out to touch you that your skin would be hot to the touch where your blood had rushed to the surface. He could smell hints of your perspiration and he could also detect a musky and moist feminine undertone. You were attracted to him… His masculine pride delighted in the realisation. Despite your human form, he found you attractive too.

Finishing up your notes, you settled the clipboard down on the gurney and mentally prepared yourself for the ‘looking’ part of the observation.

Eyes still glued to the brown leather of the gurney’s mattress, you declared your next action, “Alright, just stay relaxed for me with your thighs slightly parted. I’m going to begin the physical part of the observation now.”

“Sure.”

Your gaze travelled from the beautiful stripes on his outer thighs inward to the slightly paler blue of his inner thighs and finally, up to his groin. Suddenly, you didn’t understand why you were so nervous about this. He looked fairly… normal? Apart from the general larger size of everything and the blue hue of his skin, everything was as expected. Feeling a little braver now, you grabbed the glass tablet and took a couple of photos and then set it down to return to your clipboard.

“Is everything the same?” He asked out of the blue, “Same as with human males, I mean.”

You looked to his face instinctively and found his amber eyes trained on you, “Ah yes, more or less. Penis, foreskin, testes; everything expected is there and I haven’t noted any real differences in physiology apart from the lack of hair, but that’s consistent with the lack of body hair all Na’vi have apart from on your heads and tail tufts.”

Following the words down the clipboard sheet you came to a section that was titled ‘Texture and Sensitivity’. You paused. How the fuck were you supposed to assess those? The section didn’t have any required questions or sample questions to help you, and no suggestions either, just a space for you to jot down your notes. You looked from your patient’s body and then to his face, and when he gave you a small smile, your gaze shot back down to your clipboard sheet in embarrassment. Texture and sensitivity were tactile aspects. You didn’t really understand how you could assess them without touching the patient.

Evidently you were taking too long in your deliberation, because your patient’s voice sounded again with a gentle query, “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, sorry. I’m just trying to work out how to assess the next bit.” You apologised sheepishly. You weren’t doing a very good job of appearing collected, you realised.

“What’s the next part?”

“Texture and sensitivity. So, what it feels like and which parts respond the most to touch.” You stated in as even a voice as possible. You huffed out a laugh then and shrugged, “It’s a tricky one because they’re tactile observations and I don’t know how to assess them when you can’t touch the patient.”

“Why can’t you touch the patient?” His response was clearly a surprise to you and he couldn’t suppress his grin as you goggled at him in shock, “You can touch me if it will enable you to do your job.”

You were almost about to say that you couldn’t possibly do that, but you stopped yourself. You were a med-science professional. The patient was consenting and your research required you to perform a physical examination. In a professional capacity, there was no reason you couldn’t touch the patient to achieve the intended outcome of the examination.

You remembered Dr Blaise’s words: It’s only awkward if you make it awkward. Fuck, you needed to swallow a bucket of concrete and toughen up. The sooner you completed this observation, the sooner you would be out of this uncomfortable situation.

Nodding resolutely, you agreed, “Alright, but you will guide me with your own hands. That way I can be assured that you’re only leading me where you’re comfortable to be examined.”

Your patient dipped his head in agreement, the tuft of his tail curling and uncurling charmingly on the gurney next to him. You set your clipboard down and moved to position yourself before him, standing between his knees. You lifted your eyes to his and they locked with his gentle gaze. Tentatively you offered him your hand and he took it, his large palm and long fingers engulfing it easily.

“So first up, texture?” He reminded, and you nodded.

Slowly, he brought your hand to his crotch and settled your hand over the shaft of his cock. It was very warm beneath your palm. Gently, your fingers tested the slightly springy flesh, noting how smooth and silken his skin was. At this closer proximity, you noticed that there was also spattering of bioluminescent freckles on the shaft. You made a mental note of that.

You touched the base of his cock, gingerly feeling around the length of it and you asked, “What’s the sensitivity like here?”

“I can feel it, but it’s not intense or anything. It’s more sensitive up here.” He guided your fingers nearer to the tip and you stifled a small gasp when he assisted you in pushing his foreskin back to reveal the smooth, dark purple head of his cock.

You’d never interacted with a naked man this close, human or Na’vi, and you certainly had never touched one in such an intimate place. Your body was starting to tingle in various places; in very unprofessional places. It was a surreal situation to be in and you found that you felt oddly calmer now than you were a few minutes ago.

Trailing the pads of your fingers over the smooth tip, you found it was moist and a little slippery. Your thumb tested the underside of it, “Sensation?”

A quiet hiss left him and you instinctively attempted to move your hand away, but his hold over your wrist kept it there, “That’s sensitive. That feels good.”

Your heart was still thumping and your cheeks were still warm, but it wasn’t nerves anymore that were causing your reaction. God, his skin was so soft and so warm… Your curiosity was growing now; your innate desire to explore taking hold of you.

You traced the raised rim of his cock head with your thumb and forefinger, watching as your patient emitted a rumbling groan. His hold on your wrist tightened and he began to move your hand over him. You intuitively wrapped your fingers around his cock. You felt entranced almost, caught up in the moment as you unwittingly began to enjoy the feel of him in your grasp.

The hot flesh in your hand was growing, elongating and engorging as the stimulation aroused him. You watched, amazed, as it swelled to its full capacity. The fingers and thumb of your hand could no longer meet each other. The girth of his cock was easily the same width as your forearm and by your approximations, it looked like it had also more than doubled in length from its relaxed state.

The erect shaft had lengthened out of his foreskin and it was a lovely shade of striated blue all over, except for a paler purple underside and head. In its aroused state, you discovered that while it shared structural similarities to a human male’s genitalia, it also possessed other aspects which were very different. The engorged shaft of his cock was ridged all along its length and as your hand smoothed up and down the column of it, you noted that the ridges were firm and palpable against your hand.

It was the most arousing thing you���d ever seen… Those ridges must feel so good inside for the woman…

You didn’t perceive his eyes on you, watching you as you explored his hard flesh. You were so engrossed that you didn’t even cotton on to the fact that he wasn’t even guiding your hand anymore. He could smell you, smell your arousal dampening between your thighs and the sight of your much smaller hand stroking and squeezing his cock was incredibly sexy.

You ran your enclosed hand in one full stroke from the base of cock and up to the head of it, fascinated by the ridged texture of it and the slippery, bulbous tip. However, your patient emitted a hissing intake of breath then and you jumped a little, snapping out of your thoughts.

“S-Sorry! Is that painful?” You stammered, shooting him a slightly apologetic frown.

He shook his head with a husky chuckle, “No, it’s just very sensitive. A lot more than earlier.”

“Where?” You asked, stroking him from tip to base and back up again.

“Everywhere. The ridges and the head especially.” His voice was notably breathier than before and his breaths were coming quicker, shallower and less even.

“That is fascinating.” You muttered, and your other hand joined in on your exploration. You fondled his balls lightly, observing the weightiness of them.

Your patient grunted and he parted his thighs a bit more. He leaned back to brace his weight on his palms behind him. He gave a small roll of his hips, which caused the top half of his cock to push and pull within your grasp. He moaned and the sound shot straight to the apex of your thighs. When you didn’t object, he continued the motion, thrusting lightly into your hands, both of which were now grasping his length one on top of the other.

Clear and viscous pre-ejaculate began to ooze from his tip, increasing in quantity with each roll of his hips. It was so copious that it was beginning to pool on the backs of your palms and drip down towards your wrist. Lord help you… there was nothing professional anymore about what you were doing… Not that your patient appeared to have any objections…

Still completely spellbound by the situation, your curiosity pushed a murmured query past your lips, “Is there always so much pre-ejaculate?”

“Depends. Generally the more aroused a man is, the more he produces.” He replied and when your bashful gaze lifted to meet his, he smirked wickedly.

You were such a pretty little thing to him, your smaller hands trying their best to keep hold of his slick cock. He knew that this was beyond the normal boundaries of the appointment. He knew that while you would’ve been required to touch him to examine him, stroking him off was probably not anywhere on the agenda. He suspected he was supposed to produce the sample on his own, but looking at you now, so enraptured by his body… How could he have resisted? And besides, he knew you were enjoying this as much as he was, your scent told him so.

You tightened your hold on his cock experimentally, squeezing harder. Each time the swollen head of his cock pushed out of your hands to greet you, you swiped your thumb over the oozing slit on its tip. He was panting heavily now, his impressive abdominals bunching and flexing as he continued to thrust his thick cock through your hold. The bioluminescent freckles that dotted his shaft were glimmering brightly and you never thought you’d ever use the word ‘beautiful’ to describe genitalia, but his cock was gorgeous.

All of him was gorgeous, truth be told…

You were attracted to Na’vi men. Ever since you were old enough to notice the opposite sex, you’d been drawn to male Na’vi. After all, you’d grown up on this moon, inhabited by and surrounded by tall, beautiful Na’vi. The humans who surrounded you at the compound and the camp were your family, and they were all much older. There were no men of your own species to look at or be attracted to. Spider was the only one of your generation and he was like your annoying, gross brother. Your attraction to Na’vi men had been an inevitable result really.

So now as you stood in the consultation bay, between the knees of this striking and aroused Na’vi male while he pumped his cock in and out of your hands, you’d never felt more validated and aroused in your life.

Your patient’s fingers were digging into the squeaky brown leather of the gurney now, straining slightly as his hips continued their onslaught. Your hands and wrists were completely drenched, soaking in his thick pre-cum. The slippery mess caused his cock to squelch obscenely as it slipped through your hold. The whole situation was so sensually explicit and you were never more thankful in your life than you were now that there were no CCTV cameras installed in the consultation bays.

You’d be expelled from your chosen profession for patient abuse… Though by the half-lidded, slack-jawed expression of pleasure on his face, he didn’t look much like he was being unwillingly abused…

A string of Na’vi curses left him then, followed by several panted moans. He abruptly pushed off his palms to sit upright and he stuttered, “W-Where is the container?”

A little stunned by his sudden and urgent tone, you stumbled in your own response, “The w-what? Oh, the sample jar?”

Panting heavily through parted lips, he nodded at you and you pointed to the desk on his left. You saw his gaze follow your eyeline and when he caught sight of the plastic collection jars that sat patiently waiting, he let out a hearty guffaw.

He reached for one and deftly flicked the already loosened lid from its mouth, still chuckling away between his huffing breaths, “It’s so small. You ready, doc?”

“For what?” You asked, realising only as the words left you what a dumb response it was as he handed the sample jar to you.

Your patient smiled at you and it was a salacious leer, all narrowed eyes and pointed canines showing, “You’re about to get your sample.”

One of his hands returned to guide yours, wrapping around your one remaining hand where it encircled his stiff cock. The pace of this rocking thrusts increased and he began to exhale with throaty moans that you swore made your own feminine core throb with desire. Gingerly, you held the collection jar up to him, being extra careful not to drop it.

With two more lurching breaths, his abdominal muscles contracted and his back bowed inward, his entire torso going rigid. You felt his cock harden impossibly before it pulsed and the breath he was holding left him in a coarse growl while his face twisted into an almost pained expression. His cock pulsed again and the first spurt of ejaculate missed the sample jar entirely, landing with a warm splat in the middle of your chest where the frills of your blue blouse peeked out from behind your lab coat. Quickly, his free hand grabbed hold of yours to position the jar better, while his other hand attempted to position his cock so he could shoot straight into it.

He was absolutely breathtaking in the midst of his orgasm. The luminous freckles on his face were twinkling and the striped cobalt skin of his neck and chest was glossy with a sheen of sweat. His cock continued to throb and pulse, emitting rope after rope of thick cum that splattered untidily over the mouth and sides of the sample jar.

You could see why he’d laughed at the size of it. There was no way the small jar could have held the full volume of what he was producing.

Coming down now off the high of his climax, your patient slouched against the wall behind the gurney, breathing hard. He caught your eye and he grinned indolently at you.

The adrenalin and heightened arousal in the atmosphere was fading rapidly now, and cold, hard reality was slowly returning to you. You looked at the pearlescent contents of the sample jar, which was still decently full despite majority of the sample not making it in there. You smiled to yourself.

Mission accomplished and what an exciting mission it was…

Carefully setting the jar down on the flat worktop of the metal sink next to you, you replaced the lid on it with sticky fingers and made a note to thoroughly wipe the jar down later before handing it to the lab techs.

Returning your attention to your patient, you smiled at him, suddenly shy again, “Thank you for your co-operation today. I’ll leave you to clean and freshen up. You can see yourself out after.”

His answering laugh was husky and he dipped his head at you, “I should be thanking you for your co-operation I think, doc.”

“Not a doc, remember?” You grinned at him and you were about to turn on heel to depart into the adjacent washroom when you heard him call out to you again.

“Hey Not-A-Doc, if you ever need another sample, I’m happy to provide another one, whether for med-science research or your own personal research.”

A girlish giggle left you and you felt your face flame again. You shook your head, making your way into the washroom to clean yourself up. He was a naughty one that one…

[callahanisms]

hey, can you make Miguel O'Hara X gender neutral reader? Where reader (Miguel lover) accidentally get teleport or glitch in the spider verse where they (the Spidey's) were in the middle of chasing miles? Thank you! <3

hi anon. i'm happy to write this for you.

i wrote this in the form of headcanons rather than a fic. i'm still recuperating from finishing dragon age: inquisition, the succession finale (even if it was like a week ago), my adrenaline high from the across the spiderverse, and the other things i have written already.

some creative additions i made: this is a spidey! reader. i think it naturally made more sense to have a spidey! reader rather than a civilian. i would have to jump through a lot of hoops for a civilian reader to make sense and my brain does not have the capacity to jump through those hoops right now.

you deserved a well needed rest. after all the work you had been pulling to keep the multiverse safe, it was the least you deserved. especially a nap.

what you didn't expect when you went home was to just fall asleep on the couch.

you had gone out with your friends, finally caught up with them, and changing into some comfortable lounging clothes. you had plans to watch the newest 3 hour long ego project the director called a movie. and naturally because it was 3 hours long and an ego project filled with nothing, you ended up falling asleep.

what you forgot to take off was your multiversal band. you always kept it on in case of emergencies.

you also had a habit of rolling around in your sleep a bit. and you don't have the best luck with technology.

naturally your band malfunctions and you're thrown into the portal and transported back to hq.

ideally you didn't want to be falling through the space. but you were. and that woke you up.

"fuck! fuck! fuck!"

you had no web shooters. why would you? who sleeps with web shooters anyways? (actually there are some spider people that might)

and the worst part is, no one seemed to notice that you were falling. because they were busy doing something else.

when you squinted your eyes, you saw what was happening: every single spider-person that was at hq was chasing after one singular spider-person.

you didn't know who it was but from the looks of it, it looked like a young spider-person. someone who was only a kid.

if only you weren't just free falling-

"(y/n)! what are you doing here!" a familiar voice exclaims.

he caught you in midair, swinging safely to the nearest platform that wasn't stampeding with spider people and other variations of spider totems to set you down.

you took in his appearance. his hair was disheveled and his fangs were poking out. you also noticed his talons were out too and his breathing was heavy.

"i...i was teleported here on accident." you explain. "what is going on?"

"i can't talk right now. go back home! it's supposed to be your day off!" he gives you a small kiss on your cheek and prepares himself to jump off the platform.

"miguel, who is that?"

"miles morales. he disrupted a canon event and now the multiverse is at stake! and we're trying to prevent him from causing another one."

"okay well did you try talking to him?"

"of course!" he exclaims, turning to look at you. "it's the first thing i did. but he doesn't want to listen. now i have to catch him before he disappears!"

he doesn't even wait for you to respond before jumping off. as much as miguel loved you and loved talking to you and cherished your presence, he had to catch up to miles. he had to stop him.

he had to save the multiverse.

you were left with a sinking pit in your stomach. something told you that today was not the day to take off.

but first you needed to find lyla or margo to help with your watch so you can grab your suit and equipment and come back.

[crustaceousfaggot]

Ghost and Pals songs will be like. *simple synthesized melody repeated a couple times* *the same melody but over top of the musical equivalent of a can-crushing factory* [some Vocaloid twink] Reflections on ice. A spiders eye. Fangs in the mirror. Tells me what I'm meant to be. Nothing makes sense and my bones are cracking. *Key Change* I'm falling down the stairs. I can't feel my eyes. 40 milligrams of clozapime to fill me with the you in me. Please pick up the phone. Kneel for me and tell me I'm God. *Extended instrumental outro.* and the song is called Passtime Signal or something and it makes your brain feel like it's fizzing.

[kamig4mes]

heyy, could you please write headcanons for how shigaraki would react/feel with a gn s/o who gives him small things that remind them of him? like, they see a red rock and give it to him bc its the color of his eyes, that kind of stuff

hey hey honey, of course! It's the first request from mha that I make here, although I must admit that I didn't expect it to be from shigaraki! ksdjdjsj 🤭 anywaay, I came up w/ a couple of things for this boy, I hope you enjoy it

#pov: Shigaraki would react/feel with a gn s/o who gives him small things that remind them of him.

★ warnings: realistic hc, fluff, established relationship, affection, couple love, league of villains

—shigaraki!

Realistically, you don't even know how you managed to get this guy to end up being your boyfriend. I mean, your mental dictionary is so broad and far-fetched but the words "love" "consideration" "passion" seem not to be included in it but here they are both! Celebrating even the smallest things you do for him.

Sometimes the gifts with the most emotional meaning are found when you least expect it.

They were walking hand in hand through some deep neighborhood of the city with a path to the forest when something suddenly made you brake sharply and scream.

"Oh my- STOP!!"

"WHAT?!"

Shigaraki flinched when he heard you, alerting all his senses. You got rid of his grip to step back on the way to take something in your hands.

When you came back to his side he looked at you surprised, almost angry.

"Here, take it honey" your arms outstretched towards him with that smile adorning your face, he was looking at you like you were crazy "it's for you"

"If it's a fcking spider I swear to yo-"

"Who do you take me for? C'mon, just hold out your hands" he reluctantly does as you ask, rolling his eyes when you smiled in victory.

At first Shigaraki stiffened when he felt the light weight on his bare palms, moments later he relaxes when he sees that it was a small stone. But not a current.

"A red stone?"

"Yea', a little weird, isn't it? But.. It reminds me of the color of your eyes.." you confessed, feeling your cheeks (and his) burn red hot.

Shigaraki froze instead. The poor man didn't expect to hear you say that, and he never expects it! He's not at all familiar with this type of treatment and sensations that you generate for him, and despite having been dating for a couple of months, this type of affection is still unexpected for him.

Deep down, his heart warmed up like a torch, sending his brain the signal to shout out all the tenderness that you generated in him with that simple gesture. But he couldn't, he felt blocked and too shy to answer correctly.

Since your boyfriend was silent for what seemed like a whole minute, you rushed to bring his attention back.

"We must get back soon before dark, don't you think? We don't want to get lost" you laughed, awkward kissing his cheek quickly. You didn't need him to respond to your acts of love, you understood his heart perfectly. But, sometimes, you wished he would express his emotions more with you.

"And I'm so sorry for yelling earlier"

"Uh-mh, it's okay.." Shigaraki sighed, before linking his hands again and kissing the top of your head "let's go back home"

You learned to identify your eccentric boyfriend's tastes and understand his peculiar manias, but you suspected that you still had a lot to discover about his twisted inner world.

It was just another day of the year when, while cleaning inside the drawers of Shigaraki's bedside table, you came across a somewhat small and neglected notebook with his name engraved on the lid.

You decided to take a look at it, surprising yourself with the amount of sketches that were embodied inside. And you couldn't help but melt with tenderness when you saw that a large part of the drawings that filled that notebook were you portrayed. You rushed to leave it where you found it and get on with the cleaning. It seemed strange to you that that book was out of place but thanks to that cluelessness, you discovered that Shigaraki liked to draw.

From that moment on, every instrument/drawing material you saw reminded you of him. And without realizing it, you ended up buying an impeccable set of graphite pencils for him.

When Shigaraki returned home in the afternoon, a box with a note greeted him in the living room. He looked everywhere in your search, in vain. The white-hair then approached the table to inspect the gift.

"This reminds me of you, and I think it may serve you. All yours"

As he guessed, the calligraphy was yours. Upon unveiling its contents, the thousands of drawings inside his notebook whipped his mind, clearly remembering every moment he made them, especially those where you were: sitting in the living room, in bed asleep, with your back on the balcony, etc. Just thinking about it, his corners rose in a smile that, if you were looking at him, you would be disarmed of love.

"God.. So adorable..."

He may never ask you how you found out about his hobby, but that didn't interest him. Because the best piece of art he can have is you. It will always be you.

Luckily, you have in mind his love for sweet foods. It became essential for you to buy breakfast cereal, specifically the sweetest flavor that existed on the market because it seemed to be the only one that met the necessary sugar levels for him. It's the first thing you look for when you come back from shopping.

"Tomura, honey, I'm home!" you screamed once you entered his warm abode. Soon you heard how a few footsteps crawled down the stairs to receive you next to a kiss.

"You're back soon" Shigaraki took the bags from you and carried them to the kitchen, poring over their contents. When he didn't see it anywhere, he questioned you, "Did you buy it?"

"Of course, it was already running out"

Shigaraki examined your facial features to make sure you weren't lying.

"The one with the double honey-? "

"The one with the double honey and sprinkles, baby, here it is" and you waved the long-awaited colorful box.

Shigaraki blinked with a hidden surprise when you finished his sentence. He loved that you remembered the details about him, he loved feeling special and listened to. Especially if it was you.

The white-hair nodded before turning around to leave the kitchen and go back to his business, hiding from you that goofy smile that was starting to outline on his face.

Whenever you pass by a video game store, the impulse to buy a game from their range of tastes ends up taking over you in some way or another.

"What are you getting me now, puppy?" he mumbled a barely audible giggle as he took the rectangular gift and tore the wrapper "Is this another one of your jok- Oh.."

His eyes widened as he observed the package in his hands. That limited edition Mario Kart game that came out a couple of weeks ago had him so surprised.

"Damn, y/n.."

With his role as a villain, he had moved away from his gamer side quite a lot. But he made sure that no one touched his glorious shelf full of his best and favorite video games. And you were there to stock that dusty shelf, to remind him that that side of him isn't quite dead.

"Do you like it? Although it's not such an important thing"

"Isn't it such an important thing?!" Shigaraki raised his voice offended.

You shrugged your shoulder, feigning indifference even though his beautiful surprised little eyes had you internally screaming "I thought it was missing from your collection"

Shigaraki looked again the video game, his heart turning completely upside down, not believing that you could give him something so difficult to get in the first weeks of release, but you would do anything for him.

He subtracted the space between you, catching you by surprise when he pulled you by hugging you tightly.

"Thanks u, babe.."

As long as it comes from you no matter what you gave him, even if he doesn't show it to you verbally, he appreciates all your gestures.

You smile softly, stroking her hair "don't thank me, honey"

That's the way he was, shy, inexperienced, spontaneous and shy just like a little boy. But little by little that child was growing up, opening up to the affection that you offer him and experiencing the rules of love with you by his side because thanks to you the words "love" "consideration" "passion" were added to his mental dictionary with a clear and real definition, thus finding ways to show you all that love that he also has to give you.

©2024 ／ ENJOY ♡ — I was as realistic as possible, I like hc's to be like that. If you liked it, don't forget to repost it so that it reaches more little people. Thank y, I love them!

[allthingsimagines]

Multiverse Parenting

Summary: One day when you’re swinging around New York a little girl falls from a portal from the sky. She asks you to help her find her dad, but how are you supposed to do that when he’s the Spider-Man of a different universe?

Word Count: 6k

A/N: This was based off an idea a few weeks ago by @twentysomethingwereyote ! Thank you for the amazing idea!

Original request: “Gabriella gets teleported to Earth-1218 or one similar to it and it’s up to the reader to somehow access the multiverse to get her home.”

Part Two

It had been a fairly normal day until everything flipped on its head in Manhattan. You’d been Spider-Woman for three years now and everyday came with its challenges. Managing bills piling up and dealing with the bizarre villains that popped up.

That’s New York for you.

You’d been swinging around casually on your day off from work. You swung around the corner of the Empire State Building when suddenly you noticed a flash of bright colors in the middle of the sky. Your eyes widened, what the hell?

The sky was literally glitching out. Well, this was new.

Then a sharp scream rang out and all of your senses lit up. A little girl flew through the mess of glitching colors and straight toward the ground.

You dove off the side of the building without hesitation and shot towards her. You quickly grabbed her into your arms and held her tightly to you. You shot a web out quickly to the closest building and swung towards the roof. The girl clung to you tightly and sobbed. Your heart clenched at the sight, “Don’t worry, I’ve got you kid.”

You landed on top of the building and looked back at the sky to find the glitch that the girl had fallen out of was gone now. You set the little girl down as she continued to cry. She looked to be around ten and had brown hair pulled into a ponytail.

You bent down to her level and placed a comforting hand on her back and rubbed it to soothe her, “Hey, what’s your name?”

She sniffed and took a shuddering breath, “Gabriella.”

You realized the mask wasn’t helping you to calm her down since she literally just dropped from a hole in the sky. You took a moment to nervously ponder whether taking it off was worth it.

“Are-Are you like Spider-Man? My dad is Spider-Man in my ho-home,” She said, wiping her tears away.

You felt relief flood you as you resigned to take your mask off. You pulled it from your head and smiled at her, “Yeah, my name is Y/N. They call me Spider-Woman here.”

She nodded and you could tell the similarity between you and her dad helped her relax. You sighed at the realization that you had no clue how to get her home.

“What’s your dad’s name?” You asked her and she shuffled back and forth on her feet.

“Miguel O’Hara,” She said softly.

You’d definitely never heard that name before. You had no clue how to get to another dimension and it was going to take a lot of brain power to get this girl home.

You smiled gently at her and squeezed her shoulder. Her scared eyes looked up at you, “I know this is all scary and confusing. I’m sorry you ended up here, but just know that your dad is doing everything he can to get back to you.”

“My dad calls me ‘todo su mundo’ it means ‘his whole world’. I miss him a lot,” She said and her eyes filled with tears again.

“Gabriella, I’m going to do everything I can to get you back to your dad, okay?” You said, trying to comfort her as much as you could.

You held your hand up with your pinky out and you caught the smallest smile on her face as she nodded and looped her pinky around yours. You stood up and sighed, “I think you should stay with me until I can find a way to get you to your dad. I live with my Aunt May and let me tell you, she makes the best cookies ever.”

Gabriella smiled as she looked up at you, “Really?”

You beamed at her and ruffled her hair, “Oh totally. She’s the best cook in Queens. She’ll make whatever you want I swear.”

You pulled the mask over your head and picked her up on your hip. She wrapped her arms around your neck and tucked her head into it. You held her tightly to you and shot a web before jumping off and heading towards Queens.

You hoped to god Miguel O’Hara was out there looking for his daughter too.

Three years had passed since you’d had any experience of the multiverse. Gabriella was now fourteen and a sophomore in high school. She was an extremely bright girl and excelled in school and sports. She was the star soccer player and you and Aunt May always attended her games to cheer her on, well when you could with Spider-Woman business.

Your search for how to get Gabi back to her universe had never come up with any leads. She had literally just dropped from the sky, like goddamn Chicken Little. There was no Miguel O’Hara in your universe either for you to try to rely on.

You wanted her to get back to her dad as you could tell it still ate her alive not knowing what happened to him. But, she had also become like a daughter to you.

The superhero life didn’t leave much time for relationships. How many people on earth would ever be able to understand how much sacrifice and hardship it took to protect the city each day? But, that girl did.

She understood how much her dad, and now you, had to sacrifice to keep the city safe. She was a great kid and you were happy for her to be in your life.

You were in the midst of having a movie night with her. You lounged next to her on the couch as she leaned against your shoulder.

“So, they just decided to make dinosaurs ‘cause they could? Isn’t that a stupid idea?” She questioned and you laughed.

“That’s kinda the whole point. Humanity is bound to destroy itself if given the chance,” You said with a shrug.

“The dinosaurs are a genetic disaster. It’s wrong to bring them back,” She said with a smirk and you threw a hand over your heart dramatically.

“Woah! From a genetic disaster themselves that is rude,” You teased her as your watch lit up.

You had crafted a watch to track crimes and keep you updated on the going ons of the city. Much better than a walkie talkie. You pulled your arm out from behind her shoulders and checked the notification, “Santa mierda.”

Gabi pointed at you and grinned, “Aunt May would have your head for that mom.”

You stood up from the couch and swore to yourself as you rushed to change into your suit.

“What’s wrong? Mom?” Gabi questioned as you sped back into the room in your full suit.

“Goblins out. He’s supposed to still be stuck in a maximum security cell in the Raft. I’ve gotta go before he tears up Manhattan,” You said as you moved over to her and grabbed her shoulders gently.

You smiled at her and pressed a kiss to her forehead, “I love you mi ángel. I’ll be home when it’s done, but you need to stay here with May. It’s not gonna be safe in the city tonight.”

She nodded and pulled you into a tight hug. You sighed and rubbed her back to comfort her. You pulled away and smiled before pulling on your mask and rushing out the window.

You swung as fast as you could across the city. There’d been no reports of a break out from the Raft, so how the hell had he got free? You swung towards the Brooklyn Bridge as you saw bombs coming from the sight. You swore to yourself as you zipped towards the bridge and Green Goblin came into view.

What the hell? That was not the Green Goblin you knew.

He looked so weird. Almost like a devil or a guy in a strange Halloween costume. Either way that was not the guy locked up in the Raft.

“I don’t know who you are, but I already put one or your asses in the Raft,” You said as you swung towards him and landed a kick to his jaw.

He went flying and crashed into the wall behind him. He looked up and growled at you, “You’re not Peter Parker.”

You scoffed as you began to web him up, “No shit. Now can we hurry this up. I've got a movie night to get back to.”

You continued to fight this Goblin and you had him pinned down until you noticed a flash of bright lights above you. Your eyes widened as you noticed a portal opening up, just like the one that day.

“What the hell?” You said before Goblin shot a bomb at you and you flew backwards.

You smacked your head hard against the concrete and groaned, “It can never be easy.”

You pushed yourself up into a sitting position and watched three people come out of the portal. Your senses lit up and your head felt fuzzy until you realized that these people were Spider people as well. One woman rode in on a motorcycle, another came in with a guitar, and the last one was just an imposing man. They were quick to take down Goblin and contain him as you dusted yourself off and walked over. “So, are you guys Spider-Man too? I’m Y/N L/N.”

Goblin banged against his brightly colored cell as they turned to you. The woman smiled and folded her arms over her chest, “Yeah, I’m Jessica Drew. Spider-Woman too.”

She was very obviously pregnant and so much cooler than you. You grinned under the mask, “God it’s good to have another woman around. Y’Know basically all of my villains are guys. We gotta mix it up around here.”

She laughed at you and your eyes moved to the one with the guitar. He cocked his hip and chuckled, “Hobie Brown. Power to the people.”

You nodded and laughed, “I like it. Very anti-establishment of you.”

He nodded and folded his arms across his chest as your attention turned to the last one. He was a very tall and broad man in a futuristic blue suit. He stayed silent and you raised your brow, “What’s your name? Michael Myers?”

Jessica snorted and Hobie didn’t even bother to hide his laughter. The man grunted and folded his arms across his chest, “Miguel.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach. Miguel was a common enough name, but a Spider-Man named Miguel? You stepped closer to him, your heart pounding in your chest, “Last name?”

He obviously rolled his eyes even if you couldn’t see it with the mask, “What is this? An interrogation?”

You had hope that maybe he could be the dad your daughter had been searching for. You stepped closer and narrowed your eyes, “Last name.”

He stepped chest to chest with you and glared down, “O’Hara.”

You felt your heart stop and you stumbled back a few steps, “Holy fuck.”

You put your hands on your knees and closed your eyes as you tried to take calming breaths. This was your daughter's father. Gabi would have her dad again. You looked back up at him and rushed over and grabbed his arm, “Did you have a daughter?”

He physically recoiled at the question and stepped back, “What?”

No one had ever asked about his little girl. Few even knew that he had a daughter and now some random woman from a different universe was asking about her. Miguel glared down at you as his heart pounded against his chest.

You could practically see his defenses go up at your questioning, but you swallowed your fears and stepped towards him again, “Was your daughter named Gabriella? You called her ‘todo su mundo’.”

Miguel felt physically shaken by your words. His heart dropped to his stomach. There was no way. He’d seen her disappear from his arms. So, how did you know the nickname he had for his daughter?

Miguel rushed towards you and tightly grasped your arms,“How do you know that?”

You smiled under the mask and tears welled in your eyes at the knowledge that you had finally found her father. You grabbed his hands and squeezed them, “Because Gabi fell through a portal just like that three years ago. Your daughter is alive, Miguel.”

Miguel fell to his knees and began to cry. His daughter was alive and safe? He bent his head to the ground and clenched his fists as he tried to calm himself down.

You dropped to your knees next to him and placed a hand on his back and rubbed it, much like you’d always done for Gabi, “I’ve been taking care of her as my own for the last few years. You’d be so proud of the girl she’s grown up to be.”

Miguel sat up as he took deep breaths and he lifted his head to meet your eyes, “Thank you, for taking care of her.”

You smiled at his words. Gabi had been the best to ever happen to you. You sniffled as you did your best to hold your own tears back, “I’m grateful for her everyday.”

Miguel let out a shaky breath before he pushed himself to his feet. You quickly stood up and had to crane your neck to look up at him as he asked, “Can I see her?”

Your heart broke at the sight of him. This was a man who had clearly never stopped looking for his kid and he wanted her back. You looked around at the disaster around you and sighed before you met his eyes again, “I think it’s best to do this tomorrow. I need to talk to her and give her time to process this.”

Miguel looked ready to put up a fight at your words. You quickly grabbed his hands and gave them a reassuring squeeze, “I know you want to see her now, but she needs time and so do you. There’s no need to rush this.”

Miguel bit his lip to hold in his frustration at your words. He wanted everything to go great when he saw his daughter again and as upset as the thought made him- you knew her better now than he did. Miguel nodded and let go of your hands,“I understand.”

You smiled and let out a shaky breath, “I can take her to you tomorrow. Is there a way I can meet you?”

Miguel looked back and held his hand out. Jessica tossed a watch similar to your own and he caught it before offering it to you. You took the watch from him and slipped it onto your free wrist. He took your hand in his and pressed a button, “Hit this and scroll until you see Earth-928, that’s headquarters.”

You shook your head and laughed at his words, “Headquarters? This feels like S.H.I.E.L.D., like a super secret superhero club.”

Miguel shook his head at you, but secretly smiled to himself. If his daughter could have ended up with anyone, a witty Spider-Woman from another universe wasn’t the worst possibility.

“Open the portal and come there at eleven,” He said, quickly showing you how to do it yourself.

“It’s a date,” You said without thinking and your cheeks lit up.

Miguel watched you in amusement as you became clearly very embarrassed at your own words. You folded your arms across your chest defensively and cursed, “No! Not like that. Ah, mierda you know what I meant.”

Miguel laughed at you and felt a pull towards your demeanor. Like all of the other Spider-Men, aside from himself, you had a good sense of humor and for once it didn’t completely annoy him. Miguel softly smiled at you before he surprised even himself by pulling you into a tight hug.

Your cheeks lit up again because from everything you had picked up about him hugs were definitely not in his repertoire. His grumpy demeanor did not scream that he was a hug guy, so you were going to take this as a success. Miguel stepped back, remembering himself as he cleared his throat and looked down at you, “Thank you for taking care of my little girl.”

You smiled at him and nodded, “I love her as my own. I’ll talk to her tonight and get her ready, okay?”

Miguel nodded and you backed away as you checked to make sure Goblin was all taken care of. You smiled at the group and saluted them, “Thanks for taking care of that weirdo! Can’t have more Green Goblins running around.”

You looked at Miguel one last time before you shot a web and swung away. The whole trip home felt like a blur as you fretted about how she would respond. You were glad you had found her dad, but did this mean she’d never come back? Would she visit you still? Would Miguel be okay with you still being her mom? You were the only person she’d ever called mom.

You landed in an alley near your apartment and quickly changed out of the suit before heading home. You took the elevator up in your building and let out a sigh to calm yourself before you unlocked the door.

Gabi was sitting at the kitchen table working on a painting, but her head snapped to the door as she noticed you come in. You let out a sigh as you kicked your shoes off, “You didn’t have to wait up for me.”

She dropped her brush and rushed to your side and tackled you in a hug. You let out a sigh and smiled as you hugged her back, “Hey kiddo.”

She pulled away from you and you brushed her dark hair from her tired eyes, “Why’re you still up? It’s way past your bedtime.”

She rolled her eyes at your teasing, “Can’t I just be worried about my mom?”

You nodded and sighed, suddenly feeling the weight of having to tell her the news. You wrapped your arm around her shoulder and led her to the couch, “We need to talk hun.”

Gabi tensed at your words as you sat on the couch. You wrapped your arms around her shoulders as she asked, “Am I in trouble?”

You shook your head and squeezed her shoulder, “You know, I am grateful everyday that I get to be your mom and that you came into my life. I wouldn’t change anything for the world.”

Gabi leaned into your hold as her cheeks lit up and she smiled. You bit your lip to hold back the wave of emotion threatening to crash over you, “But I can’t imagine how hard it was for your dad to lose his daughter and for you to be away from him.”

Gabi quickly scrubbed at her eyes and nodded. You pulled away from her and put your hand on the side of her face as you tried to smile as comfortingly as possible, “Gabi, I found your dad.”

Her face paled and she grabbed onto you, “Mom- I don’t understand- what?”

You smiled comfortingly and you scooted closer to her, “I met your dad tonight. He came from your universe with a few other Spider-Men.”

She then broke down into tears and clutched onto you like a lifeline. You held her tightly to you as she sobbed. After a few minutes she looked up at you with puffy eyes, “Where is he? Why isn’t he here?”

You pushed her hair out of her eyes and squeezed her shoulder in support, “He wanted to angel, but I think you both needed time to process this. You’re getting your dad back and he’s getting his daughter.”

She nodded in understanding and you sent her a small smile, “Besides he was still in his suit and could probably use a shower before you had to give him tons of hugs. By the way, was he always a grump?”

Gabi laughed and nodded, “Yeah, he was always really grumpy with other people. But, it’s all a lie. He’s a softie.”

You smiled at her words, that made more sense rather than the stoic demeanor he put on. She looked at you hopefully, “When can I see him?”

“We’ll meet him in some Spider-Man HQ tomorrow at eleven. But if that’s too soon I can go and tell him you need time, just say the word,” You said as you tightened your hold around her shoulders.

“It’s not that. It’s just, when I go back to him will I still be able to see you? Of course I want to be with my dad, but you’re my mom too. I don’t wanna leave you,” she said as she tucked herself further into your side.

It was your biggest fear too. She was your kid now and you didn’t want to let her go either. You smiled wistfully and kissed her forehead, “Don’t worry about it tonight. We’ll figure everything out tomorrow, I swear.”

The next morning you and Gabi both nervously stood in the living room as it neared eleven. She fretted over herself as she fixed her hair again for the thousandth time. You smiled as you squeezed her shoulders and then pressed a kiss to the side of her head, “Don’t worry, he still loves you. You’re still todo su mundo, I promise love.”

She nodded and squeezed your hand on her shoulder, “Thanks, I love you mom.”

You took her hand into your own and smiled at her before pulling your mask over your face, “I love you too. Ready to go?”

She nodded and you held up your watch and pressed the button. You then scrolled to Earth-928 and hit the button to open a portal. A burst of colors appeared in front of you and you both looked at each other in awe. You squeezed her hand in yours before you both stepped into the portal.

You gripped your hand in yours as you tumbled through an inter dimensional tube. Then suddenly you both landed in a different universe. Your eyes quickly moved to Gabi and gave her a quick once over to make sure she was alright before turning your attention to the world around you.

Holy shit.

There were flying cars, buildings going into the clouds, and there were only spider people here. This place was filled to the brim with every kind of Spider Person you could possibly think of. Gabi had a look of wonder in her eyes as she looked around at the world in front of her.

“Y/N?”

You turned to see Jessica standing there with a bright smile on her face. Jessica walked up to you and you smiled in relief, “Jessica. It’s good to see at least someone here that I know.”

She nudged your shoulder and laughed, “You can call me Jess. I think we’ll be seeing enough of each other that we’ll be friends.”

You nodded with a smile before her attention turned to Gabi and her eyes softened. She met your eyes again and you could see the sympathy in her eyes for what you were feeling, from one mom to another.

“Come on, I’ll take you to his place. He’s waiting for you two,” She said and then began walking further into HQ.

You both followed behind her as she led you through a maze of hundreds of different Spider People. You could tell Gabi was in awe of the sights around her, but her nerves were eating her alive. You held her hand tightly in your own to keep her grounded as you finally began to move away from the crowds.

You reached what looked like a residential wing of sorts as Jess led you into the elevator and hit the button for the top floor. The ride to the top gave you a great view of this world, but you were nervous for Gabi to meet her dad. She was still a kid when he last saw her and now she was growing into an amazing young woman.

The elevator reached the top and you came face to face with the door to his apartment. Jess stayed in the elevator, but gave you both a comforting smile, “Good luck.”

You nodded in thanks before you both walked up to the door. You squeezed Gabi’s hand and she looked up at you, “I’ve got you. No matter what happens next.”

She nodded and you dropped her hand to let her do this on her own. You pulled your mask from your head and shoved it in your pocket as she raised her hand and knocked on the door. The door swung open and Miguel stood in front of you now with no suit and in casual clothes.

He looked so much like his daughter.

Gabi’s eyes watered as she reached out for him, “Dad? Is it really you?”

Miguel nodded, clearly choked up, “Gabi, my little girl, look at you.”

Gabi burst into tears and jumped into her dads awaiting arms. Miguel pulled her into his arms and held his daughter to him.

This made everything worth it. Gabi finally had her dad back. You’d done it.

They continued to hug for a while until Miguel let out a half laugh and sob as he looked at his daughter, “God, look at you. You’re a beautiful young woman now.”

Gabi smiled at her dad as she wiped away her tears, “And now you’re old and grumpy.”

Miguel laughed at his daughter and clearly this was the happiest he’d been in years. Miguel finally moved his eyes to you and you felt a little out of place being here. Gabi reached towards you and grabbed your hand and pulled you forward, “Dad, this is my mom, Y/N. She’s been there for me ever since I landed in her universe.”

You met Miguel’s eyes and you both seemed to stop.

Wow, he was really good looking.

The intimidating demeanor he had previously only added to your attraction. He had dark tousled hair and a jawline that looked like it was cut by the gods.

Miguel was taken aback by you. Out of all of the thousands of Spider People he’d recruited, none of them held a candle to you. You were beautiful. You were a kind person and a good one. Oh he was in for it.

“Hey Miguel. Nice to see you without the mask and everything,” You said, trying to keep your embarrassment to a minimum.

Miguel nodded and you swore his own cheeks looked a little pink, “Thanks again, for everything.”

Gabi looked between the two of you with a mischievous look written all over her face. You narrowed your eyes at her, oh god what was she up to. Miguel opened the door to his apartment and you followed Gabi in and she looked around in wonder at all the futuristic technology.

His apartment didn’t seem homey. It was huge, but it was lonely. It was missing his daughter.

You looked around as Gabi and Miguel sat down to talk when you noticed a picture of Miguel and a little girl. You walked over to the frame and picked it up. The picture was of Gabi as a little girl shoving an ice cream cone into Miguel’s face as he smiled lovingly at your daughter.

“Do you have any pictures of her as a baby?” You blurted out without thinking.

You turned to face them and Miguel had an eyebrow raised at you. You flushed, slightly embarrassed for just speaking without thinking as Miguel sat next to Gabi with his arm around her shoulders.

“I’ve always wondered what she looked like as a baby. Y’know since I’ve never seen her that young,” You said and Gabi rolled her eyes.

“Mom, you’re just gonna use those to embarrass me,” Gabi teased you with a smile.

You set the frame down and went over to her and pressed a kiss to her, “I’m pretty sure that’s in the job description.”

“Yeah, I’ve got them back here,” Miguel said as he stood and began walking down the hallway.

You quickly followed after him then he suddenly stopped in front of a closet. You stumbled into him and he grabbed your arm to stabilize you. You met his eyes and bit your lip and shyly stepped away, “Sorry.”

Miguel opened the closet and reached into the back and pulled out two large scrapbooks. He placed the old large scrapbooks in your hands and you smiled up at him, “Can’t say I would’ve chalked you up as the scrapbooker type. I’m very impressed.”

Miguel shut the door and leaned against it, “Well, I’m a single dad what can I say. There’s plenty you don’t know about me.”

“Well at least one of her parents has to be good at it. I can hardly do anything creative that isn’t tech related. Worst soccer mom ever,” You said as you pulled the books to your chest.

Miguel smiled at you.

What? It was a smile just for you, but kind of in a teasing way? He was way too hot to be doing things like this. You were starting to get mixed signals from him. First he was stoic and grumpy and now he was charming and making scrapbooks.

He was also your daughter's father. That made everything far more complicated.

“Thanks Miguel,” You said before you headed back to the living room and sat down next to Gabi.

She leaned into your shoulder and whispered, “He’s totally into you.”

Your eyes widened and you checked to make sure Miguel was still in the hallway. You pressed a finger to her mouth and shook your head, “Nope. Nada. Zip. Don’t even start on this.”

Miguel sat down on her other side and the two began talking as you tried to keep your heated cheeks from view. You opened the book in front of you and began to look through it. There were so many photos of her as a baby and you couldn’t help but to feel devastated at the possible loss of your daughter.

Why would Miguel let her stay with you? How was she supposed to manage traveling through different universes and maintain a normal teenage life?

You flipped through the pages, holding your bottom lip firmly between your teeth in fear of losing the best thing you’d ever had. You wanted her to have a relationship with her dad, but that didn’t mean you wanted her gone forever.

You gently set the books on the table after flipping past a picture of Gabi as a little girl with a replica of her dad’s mask pulled over her head. You stood from your spot on the couch and mustered up your best smile, but not meeting either of their eyes, “Sorry, I just need some air.”

“Mom? You okay?” Gabi asked with a worried voice.

You knew if you met her eyes you’d lose all of your self control and burst into tears. You nodded and headed towards the balcony door, “Yeah, I just need a minute.”

You opened the door, shot a web, and pulled yourself to the roof. You let out a shaky breath as you plopped onto the roof and looked out at the city. Pulling your knees to your chest, you rested your chin on your knees and looked out at Nueva York. This universe was beautiful.

The city always calmed you, but now it was a reminder of everything you could lose.

Some time had passed when you heard a thwip similar to your own and there was a thud on the roof behind you. You closed your eyes in anticipation of the bad news Miguel was about to bring you. He quietly sat next to you at the edge of the roof and hung his feet over the ledge.

“She’s worried about you,” Miguel said, looking over at your tense form.

You bit your lip and shook your head, “I’m okay.”

“Tell me about her,” He asked, looking out at the sun setting over the city.

You tried to keep your sniffles at bay as you spoke, “She’s incredibly smart and way too intuitive for her own good.”

Miguel chuckled at your words and you moved your eyes to him as he said, “She always got into trouble when she was little because she was like that.”

You smiled softly at his words and let your knees hang over the edge, “She gets in trouble in some of her classes because she outsmarts her teachers. Can’t be mad at that.”

Miguel watched as you began to open up and relax as you talked about Gabi. You were too good for anything he deserved, but maybe you were meant to be here with him. Maybe Gabi was meant to bring you together.

Maybe the rules of the multiverse were a little more lenient than he thought.

“She’s a super talented soccer player. She still young, but some college scouts have been watching her play and showed interest. She’s just a great kid. You raised an amazing daughter,” You said, looking at him with a smile.

He bumped your shoulder with his own as his lips slightly curled up, “You did too y’know.”

Your eyes slightly widened at his words and your voice caught in your throat, “I-I’m glad you can be together again. I really am.”

“But?” He asked, his dark eyes seeing through your walls.

Tears welled up, but you blinked quickly to get them to go away, “But I don’t want to lose her either. She’s my daughter now too.”

He stayed quiet as you began to ramble, “I know being outside of your universe can mess things up, but she’s been fine. She never glitched or had any issues in my universe. Don’t you think that’s a sign-“

“That she could be a part of both of our universes,” Miguel finished for you and you nodded.

Miguel swallowed down his own nerves and placed his hand on yours and gently squeezed it, “I just want her to be happy. I don’t think taking her away from her mom would do that.”

Your heart leapt at his words as you gripped his hand, “Seriously? You’d be okay with splitting time with me?”

Miguel chuckled and smiled at you, “I don’t think splitting is the right word. I’m thinking more along the lines of figuring this out together.”

Your cheeks lit up and you smiled at him, “I’d like that. We can finally be the PTA parents she alway deserved.”

You and Miguel shared a moment where you just looked at one another and things began to change. You were going to figure out this parenting thing together.

“Are you guys done being sappy up there! I’m getting bored down here,” Gabi shouted from Miguel’s apartment.

The two of you shared a look and laughed at your daughter. Miguel shook his head as he called out, “You’re in the clear.”

You heard metal clinging as Gabi climbed to the top of the fire escape and hopped onto the roof. She smiled at you and Miguel sitting next to each other as she walked over and plopped herself between you two. She grabbed both of your hands into her own and looked at you both, “We’re a team, right? The whole solo superhero thing is such a bad idea. We work better together.”

You both shared a look before laughing at her. You brushed some hair behind her ear, “We’re a team. But that still doesn’t mean you get to be the guy in the chair for either of us.”

Gabi rolled her eyes and looked to her dad, “You gonna defend me here?”

Miguel smiled at his daughter, “Listen to your mom mija.”

[mirrrorballs]

stars around my scars.

pairing / peter parker!spiderman!josh hutcherson x gn!reader

genre / hurt/comfort, fluff! slight angst (?) established relationship <3 heavily inspired by a scene from tasm!

warnings / mentions of injuries, mentions of physical brawls/fights, slightly flirty/suggestive peter, i think that's it..

synopsis / after a long and exhausting day that left your head pounding, all you wanted to do was rest. however, stress and agitation ensues when a certain spider boy shows up at your window in the middle of the night with cuts and bruises on his face paired with his blood stained suit.

author's note / josh hutcherson is like stuck in my mind 80% of the time lately and i freaked when i saw his audition for the amazing spiderman! thought this would be a cute thing to write after my friend and i gushed over it hehe. obviously written with josh's (somewhere in the multiverse) peter/spidey in mind, but can be read with any other peter in mind as well. oh, and this is very heavily inspired by andrew's spiderman (if you know, you know!).

You were exhausted.

Actually, exhausted was probably an understatement.

Your day started off extra early due to the construction going on next to your house leaving you absolutely restless.

Your brain was buzzing and filled to the brim with everything and anything. School, Peter, your internship, tests and exams, Peter, the news spreading around about villains terrorizing Queens, your errands for the day, your secret-keeping boyfriend.

As if you didn't have enough things to worry about, Peter Parker just had to be added to that list.

You knew the boy well. Well enough to know when he was keeping secrets.

There was something to him, lately. Something different. He looked pretty agitated from time to time, like his surroundings were being heightened by his senses or whatever. There was more, but for the most part, he kept his distance from you.

Needless to say, after the tiring and busy day you had, all you needed was his comfort, his sweet nothings, his touch. But that boy just seemed to go out of his way to avoid you. Your gaze, your close proximity, your everything.

With everything that racked your thoughts and with everything that you needed to do and accomplish, all you wanted to do was rest.

However, just as you were about to doze off, you heard a loud thump by the iron stairs next to your window.

You immediately jolted awake, turning your lamp on and taking pepper spray (from Peter, for your apparent safety) with you as you cautiously approached the window, silently wishing it was just something that fell rather than a burglar.

As you pushed the curtains away from your windows rather quickly, a confused look etched your features when you saw that spider-man from the news about to knock on your window.

His head immediately perked up when he saw you.

"Can I come in?" his voice was muffled through his mask and the glass window.

"Excuse me?" you asked, the unsaid I don't even know you evident and loud from your tone.

He quickly looked around as if to see if anyone was watching, and when the coast seemed to be clear, he took off his mask.

You immediately recognized the boy in front of you to be your boyfriend. Except his face was littered with cuts, bruises, and blood stains that seemed to blend in with his suit almost perfectly. Your face fell at the sight of this and you immediately opened the window.

He climbed in swiftly with one hand clutching onto what seemed to be an injury located in his torso. A look of worry covered your face as you gently motioned for him to sit on your bed before shutting the windows and pulling the curtains together.

You gripped onto the curtains of a moment longer to take a deep breath before turning around to face Peter, who had the nerve to stretch a smile on his face at you.

You sighed before opening a drawer for a first aid kit before making your way towards him.

Much to his dismay, you stopped a few steps away from him. His smile faltering slightly.

"What is- You're- You're that spider guy from the news." you said while waving your hand around as if to clearly address him before crossing your arms over your chest.

He straightened his posture before taking in a sharp breath.

"Yep," he said, popping the 'p' sound while looking down. He looked up and saw the look on your face that told him to go on. "I was bitten by this radioactive spider, during the trip to the laboratory. All this- well- this kind of just happened afterwards."

You slightly frowned. "That long ago, huh" you said with a scoff disguised as a laugh as you opened the first aid kit in search of a disinfectant.

Peter sighed. "I wanted to tell you. So bad. But I was processing what had happened- and then the villains started appearing, I really didn't want them to target you to get to m-" you cut his rambling off by placing a finger over his mouth. "Pete, it's fine, don't worry. I get your situation now." you said with a small smile before you began to clean the wounds on his face.

He could tell by the look on your face that that wasn't all. Guilt overtook him when he recalled all the times he was told that you were searching for him at school, the missed phone calls, or when he would see you with a stressed look on your face as you roamed the halls while he couldn't find the guts to walk over to you and hold you in his arms.

But you were here now. Faces inches away from his as you tended to his injuries. He couldn't help but lean into your touch when you cupped his face to keep his head in place.

Now that you were here, he felt the guilt slip away. Gosh, was he selfish for you. He hadn't realized how badly he missed you.

You started to place bandaids over the cuts. "Who even did this to you?" you asked, eyebrows furrowed with worry.

"Just this group of robbers. Didn't seem like too much of a threat until they brought out these bats." he replied with a small wince.

You nodded in acknowledgement before moving a hand to the side of the torso he seemed to be clutching onto earlier. "Are you hurt here?" you said, same worried tone and expression still evident as you moved.

"No worries, no cut or anything there. Just a pretty large bruise, I think." he reassured, eyes chasing yours as you still eyed that area.

He smirked. "If you wanted my upper body exposed so bad, you could've just said so." he said as you rolled your eyes and pushed his chest jokingly to conceal the blush forming on your cheeks, the smile on your face a dead giveaway.

He pulled you flush to him with that stupid smile on his face until you were standing in between his legs and your chest close to his.

You admired his face for a while, pushing strands of his hair to the side as you combed your hand through the rest of his hair in the process.

When your eyes finally met his, Peter simply couldn't help himself anymore.

He pulled you closer into him by the back of your neck and gently placed his lips onto yours into a soft kiss. Your heart was beating erratically. You missed this so much. You missed him so much.

When you pulled away Peter immediately spoke up.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have pushed you away, I shouldn't have kept things from you. I just didn't want to risk losing you." your heart was acting funny again.

"Pete, it's okay, really. You're here now, your reason is valid. I'm just happy I have you back." you said genuinely.

He smiled, and a comfortable silence engulfed you both.

He could see your eyes droop ever-so-lightly. Shoot, he thought. You were probably about to sleep when he got there. Guilt overcame him again.

"If you're tired and need to sleep I can go." he immediately stood up and took a step back towards the window. Though, he really didn't want to leave.

You held onto his arm and shook your head. "Stay. You still have extra clothes here from the last time you slept over." you said with a lazy smile.

How could he say no to you?

And just like that, the string that pulled you two together tugged stronger. Weaving your paths and lives together in the process.

julia speaks. i got totally carried away and this got pretty long... i hope you liked it though! josh hutcherson holds my heart in his hands right now, I couldn't resist the urge to write him hehe. and as spider-man too! we were robbed of his spidey for real.

[reidslovely]

heyy bambi i was wondering if i could request tasm!peter x reader where she’s grumpy and he’s sunshine with her getting jealous and not wanting to say anything so she just pouts and he thinks it’s so cute cause reader has nothing to worry about 🥹

hi friend loved this concept...however i can only bring myself to write frat tasm peter so that is incorporated into this plot because it's just fitting. hope you love it.

Love on the Brain

Frat!Peter x Reader

(in place of liking?hearting this post, pretty please, leave a reblog and/or a comment 🫶🏼)

This had been the flashiest frat party of the year by far. Even flashier than the one you and your friends had stumbled into six months ago, where you first met Peter Parker. Now Peter Parker had entangled himself in every sense of your life, like the spider he was. Everyone was dressed in some type of couples get up. Groups of friends having picked out group costumes, or couples having picked out iconic couple costumes. Which is what made you pissed off even more as the brunette dressed in a heart pink dress with a heart logo on it, grasped your boyfriend's arm. Peter’s eyes widened, very interested in her story not at all paying attention to the care-bear girl petting his bicep. 

You two were very clearly dressed in a couples costume, both having walked down the stairs in a 1950’s get-up mocking that of Jack and Alice from Don’t Worry Darling. Besides that, everyone knew Peter Parker had a girlfriend, a girlfriend who was pretty territorial. 

“He only has eyes for you.” M.J. approached you with two drinks in hand Harry in tow. The two dressed as Fred and Daphne from Scooby-Doo. She pushed the vodka sprite into your hand, eyes peering into you. 

“I know. And I have eyes for her right now, just not the ones she wants.” 

“He’s so oblivious.” 

Harry laughed watching his friend, nodding his head answering the chemistry question thrown at him. “How’d you even get him to catch on that you liked him?” 

“Didn’t have too he liked me first.” You shrugged sitting your drink down, leaning against the table of snacks where Peter had left you before being cornered.

“She’s not even one of the original care-bears.” M.J. shook her head. Peter finally pulled his eyes away from her, finding you in the crowd. Warmth and relief washed over you, but apparently not your face as Peter pointed your way talking to the girl. She huffed, dropping her hand shooting daggers at you. You bit back a smile, but your walls cracked as Peter walked over engulfing you in his arms. 

“What’s the long face for mhm?” Peter teases. 

“This is just my face.” You said dropping the smile again quickly. 

“Mhm, is someone jealous? Mhm” Peter teased, rubbing his nose against your forehead, teasing you. 

“No, of course not. You know where you’re taken care of.” 

You whisper, fixing the tie, you’d put it around his neck earlier. You were insanely green on the inside, and it only filled more when you caught her and a girl in a blue dress pointing your way mumbling something about “bitch.” Your bottom lip pulled inward, biting down on it as you thought.

“You know it’s okay to get jealous. It’s healthy, good for a relationship. Shows we still got something, if you weren’t jealous..well baby I think I’d be a little offended.” 

“Do you get jealous?” You deflected away from yourself, hands resting on his shoulders. Peter laughed and tilted his head. 

“..’Course I get jealous baby. Why do you think I’m always hanging on you on these things? I gotta show we are both taken. These guys have wandering eyes and I don’t really like that.”

His words made you feel better, him bringing his lips down to your cheek and to the corner of your mouth. You smiled at him, locking your lips with him, hands squeezing his shoulders. “I love you.”

“I love you too baby, promise.” Peter says pecking your forehead. “Now let's go make fun of Harry and that dumbass ascot.” Peter says, taking a drink out of your cup, pointing at Harry who turned already anticipating the loving ridicule.

__________

taglist:

@helloheyhihowdyheya @sincericida @a-lumos-in-the-nox @moonyslove78 @messymissy @adhdhufflepuff @toomanyfictionalboyfriends @eevylynn

[artastic-friend]

Some things I love about DJ’s sound design and animations in Help Wanted 2:

Every time he makes a bigger movement that requires shifting of its weight you can HEAR IT- It creaks and you can hear hydraulics inside of him WHICH BTW IS SO COOL IN SO MANY WAYS BC (tangent): it makes sense as to why he needs hydraulics being so huge and heavy, but also because the way real spiders extend their legs is like a natural form of hydraulics!! They pump their hemolymph(basically bug blood) into their legs which then allow those legs to be filled with more pressure that causes them to extend! This is why a dead or near-death spider’s legs go into the curled position (the death curl) :(

The sTOMPS I always loved the stomps even in base sb but there is just something so cool about hearing them around you as he is so close!!! It all just adds to the feeling of his weight and size 😫

HIS GROWLING?? AND MORE ANIMAL-LIKE SOUNDS??? In the past we would hear a little bit of it when he was sleeping in SB, but now we hear more examples of it and just like- closer and more noticeably 😳 it’s almost like you can hear it breathing at times and it is so cool and uncanny in the best ways :D

Ok the SNAP?!? The way he snaps his fingers and the sound reverberates all around you?!? And the way the light ring of the outside of his tunnel turns on at the same time??? I don’t really think that DJ is actually producing the snap sound from the snap alone, as with the synthetic materials its gloves are made of probably can’t produce that crisp of a sound, BUT THAT JUST MEANS THAT HE MAKES THE SOUND HIMSELF WITH ITS SPEAKERS OR SOMETHING AND SO HE’S DOING IT 100% FOR STYLE POINTS AND I LOVE THAT FOR HIM

The sound of its teeth clanking together to the beat of the music, that’s just a neat feature I like very much

Ok movements now, THE WAY HE SWAYS HIS HIPS(?) TO THE MUSIC!?! especially when it is doing that little happy dance of his or pointing at the player when it’s their turn to play. I LOVE THAT LITTLE DANCE IT’S SO CUTE

Ok the way he leans in reaaal close before settling back? He’s probably just doing it as it shifts its balance to lean back, but like, I wanna believe he’s also sorta doing it on purpose a little 🤭

Speaking of which, the movements for him going from leaning towards you to shifting his weight back and getting into that badass cross-armed pose?!!? Love it 😭 I love it sm- once again, the recoil and the followthrough of his movements just emphasize its size and weight so well I am just obsessed

OH AND HIS LITTLE FINGER TAPS WITH HIS MIDDLE RIGHT ARM THAT’S ON THE FLOOR?!? It’s a smaller detail but I am so glad they included it because it’s just so neat!?! I don’t know how to explain why I like it but it is so neat and adds to his vibe so well

OK I JUST NOTICED THIS BUT WHEN IT IS DOING THAT LITTLE DANCE AND POINTING AT YOU WHEN YOU GOT EVERYTHING RIGHT: he like, Bops his head a little and with each head bop his headphones bounce a little as well!! Idk why that is just such a neat little detail to me!

Ok this one I probably should have mentioned sooner since it’s one of the first things it does but the way it climbs out of the tunnel and grabs the sides like that with his middle set of arms? 😫😫✨ Idk what to tell y’all but that is the most attractive shit I’ve seen!!! Y’all need to step up your game if you wanna be like him XD /j

His head tilts. Need I say more? They’re adorable.

THE JUMPSCARE??!?? Dude I know it’s probably meant to look like he’s coming in to bite/eat you or something??? But to me and my DJ-Simp corrupted brain it just looks like we’re boutta make out 😁😁😁

OK THAT’S ALL I GOT FOR RIGHT NOW, but I might possibly add to this later???? If I notice anything else that stands out to me.

[spiderism]

Miguel’s conducting a census on the spider-verse when he lands himself on 𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇-𝟐𝟏𝟑𝟕 – has no prior information since this is his initial visit, but on first glance recognizes that this is Nueva York; that usually means that the local superhero is Miguel O’Hara, or at least another variant of him. Only he finds out that here, it’s actually someone named Web-Shot, a souped-up version of his own late wife.

"Cariño." It was easier to say before – when everything was right, when his entire world hadn't collapsed in on itself. Now, the word feels strange. His brain reacts as if no time's passed at all; it takes effort for his mouth to form around each of the vowels and the consonants, though – like a rusted cog forced into service after being made stiff from years of disuse. 

And while you may walk and talk like her, you’re not. He tells himself not to be fooled by the way your face lights up when you see him, by the way your laughter fills the space between the two of you, and by the way you still tell jokes at his expense. 

But then you take the few steps necessary to close the distance to get to him, wrap your arms around his frame like he’s just come home after a long day of being out. It’s all too familiar – your body folding into his, how well the pieces fit together, the softness that he remembers so well; it’s every single inch of his wife that had been catalogued and filed away in the back of his mind for safekeeping – dust-ridden archives that he’d never thought he’d dig up again. You’re a memory in the flesh. 

“Web-Shot, because—”

“You shoot webs. That’s cute,” he says in a dry tone. 

“Alright, then. Let’s hear yours. You got something better?”

“Spider-man. It’s simple. Clean. Rolls off the tongue.”

“Wow, original. Was ‘Daddy Long Legs’ already taken?”

“Oh, you’ve got jokes. I see your sense of humor is consistent.”

“It’s why you fell for me, isn’t it?”

“Among other things,” he murmurs. “Pain in my ass—”

He asks where your Miguel is, needs to know if the two of you are together, but finds out that he died three months ago – fell from a clocktower during a bad fight he wasn’t supposed to be at, snapped his neck clean in half from the tension when you tried to catch him with your webbing and he ricocheted back up from the concrete like a damn bungee cord. The ring was in his pocket; he was supposed to propose that night before everything went to shit. So your time ended with him fast, early. Before you even really got to start your lives together. 

And this other Miguel, the one who shows up in your universe alive (sure) and well (debatable), gives you some insight to his world. His wife was a romantic – an idealist, a dreamer. He’s always been pragmatic – a man of science, an engineer, doing everything within his realm of possibility to make her visions come true. It’s been a long time since he talked about his history and his family: how he proposed, where they had the wedding, his daughter – the way everything was good and perfect until it wasn’t. 

After spending the night with you on the Empire State Building, he realizes how much you’re like his wife. It hits him hard, brings up too many emotions to the surface that he’d been tamping down all these years.

Nothing about any of this is fair. And it’s sad, heartbreaking. Especially—

“I didn’t get to grow old with you.”

“We could’ve had a lifetime together and it still wouldn’t have been enough. You get that, right?”

You convince him to stay. Try to, at least. He can be your Miguel, and it would all be so easy. He can take his retired wedding ring off the chain around his neck and slip it on where it belongs. 

But it’s not possible. He tells you that much – what can happen, the repercussions that ripple out and affect the multiverse web. Because he’s already attempted that – wouldn’t have given up without trying to get you back.

A part of him wants you to say it one last time. I love you. I love you. I love you.

Instead, he gets:

“Every version of me loves every version of you. And even though I haven’t gotten to see it for myself, I know that there’s no universe where that isn’t true.”

Before he leaves, you ask if he thinks there’s any chance the two of you are allowed to be happy, allowed to live normal lives in all of the places he’s seen. 

He tells you that he has: breakfast on the balcony, slow Sunday mornings, and weekend fútbol tourneys with your daughter. This story ends on a good note, but he doesn’t mention that it only exists inside his head.

[oldstateofmind]

nobody else can heal it (but you) [part l]

➜ pairing: miguel o’hara x fem!reader ➜ warnings: spoilers from ATSV, a bit of angst cause i’m human, violence, torture, hanahaki disease but make it nightmares instead. english is not my first language. ➜ words: 4.3k ➜ a/n:  I’ve watched this movie 3 times by now because I’m obsessed with Miguel. His character is so interesting and captivating, he’s so grumpy and sad and that just makes me wanna fix him. Ugh, I have a soft spot for anti-heroes. And being voiced by Oscar Isaac is the icing on the cake. This first part sets the tone because I just can’t jump straight to smut, but I promise I’ll compensate next chapter.

chapter l. bad disease

For too long, you've been yearning for Miguel; only to be trapped in an endless nightmare. While awake, you had to live with the fact that he was out of reach – tearing your soul apart. While sleeping, violence and death had his face – tearing your whole being apart. No matter when or where; you were maimed by the same man.

Ao3

l.

It starts with a hiss; then a shadow moving in the corner of your vision.

In the dark, cold envelops your body; chilling to the bone. It’s awfully quiet besides the continuous dripping of water in the distance, the echoes of each drop remind you of a ticking clock; counting the time you’ve left – for what, however, you’re not really sure.

You rub your arms in an attempt to bring a bit of warmth back to your skin, and as always, it’s useless. It seems like a forever winter inside the place you’ve found yourself in for the past 2 weeks. 

What once started as a nightmare that made you wake up in the middle of the night, now plagues your mind every time you close your eyes. There’s no escape from it, no matter how hard you try. You’re more than tired, it’s exhausting not getting more than 3 hours of sleep when your job requires attention and disposition.

Even the pills Lyla gave you last time you were at the HQ didn’t work – actually, they made it even worse. Because then, your body was completely knocked out while your mind was terribly awake, reliving the scene over and over again. You threw them down the drain once you woke up. Never again.

And even though you already know what happens by now, it is still dreadful to wait for the nightmare to unfound. Your senses are hyper-aware of every single tiny sound, every movement in the dark. 

There’s something poetic in the way you can feel him move even with your eyes closed; the way you could recognize the pattern of his breathing in the distance even when fear creeps into your brain. Your spider-sense tingles as his heavy steps are headed toward you, it screams danger. Goosebumps break out across your body, sending a small, cold shiver through your spine. 

Red is the first thing you see. And also the last.

-

“...to Y/N.” Someone is calling you in the distance, but the hazy feeling of the nightmare still lingers within you. It’s hard to focus when your brain still hasn’t turned off properly for weeks, still trapped in whatever curse this is.

“Earth to Y/N, is anyone there?” There’s a snap in front of your eyes, and you suddenly flinch with the unexpected sound. The touch on your shoulder grounds you a bit.

You blink your eyes, rubbing them in an attempt to brush off the dreadful feeling still creeping into the back of your mind. As your eyes adjust to reality, Gwen’s face is filled with concern.

“I’m sorry, guys.” It’s the only thing you manage to say, how could you possibly begin to explain what’s been happening?

“You’ve lost your cue twice now, what’s happening with you today?” The girl presses, still holding onto your shoulder. And for that, you’re grateful. 

Not getting enough sleep has been causing you to lose grip on reality – and that scares you the most. Not being able to tell if the sounds are coming from your head or from somewhere else. Or worse, having to avoid him because it’s unbearable the feeling that eats you from the inside out; the sense of fight or flight kicking in every time you hear his voice. Not tolerating being in his company as shadows follow you around like a ghost, tormenting you into remembering.

And it’s just not fair. 

“Nothing!” You say, adjusting the bass strap on your shoulder. Hesitating on letting you go, Gwen squeezes your arm before retracting her hand. You try to smile, “I’m good. I…I’m good.”

The smile stretched for too long, awkwardly pulling your face into a grin rather than a genuine beam. The avoidance of looking at the member of the band doesn’t really back you up on your lies. You hear Hobie huff in annoyance, while Gwen’s piercing gaze still hasn’t left your face. You feel slightly guilty about keeping your nightmares a secret, but it’s not like they would understand, would they?

After all, Miguel O’Hara was a difficult subject for you to talk about.

“I know that look, I have seen it in the mirror quite a few times,” The girl admits. And you knew it was true.

When Gwen joined the Spider Society just a few months ago, the melancholy gloom that followed her was palpable. The teary eyes whenever someone asked about her life, the avoidance of returning to her world, always crashing at yours or Hobie’s. Her father was a tough subject on which she never really dwelled, too painful to remember.  

However, even if she could relate to the feeling of losing sleep over someone, she wouldn’t understand how it felt to be torn apart by your own brain, to have precious memories distorted in a sick and twisted nightmare that was a culmination of your worst fears. To know it was coming and having no power to stop it. And all the while having the face of the person you cared about the most in the world, in all universes.

No, no one could begin to understand. 

You bit your lips, signing in defeat, “I’m just tired, that’s all.”

“That’s rubbish. Is that what the kids are calling it nowadays?” Hobie chimes in, crossing his arms over his chest. He raises his eyebrow, seeing through your facade without breaking a sweat.

“You’re not even glowing like you usually do!” Pavitr shouts from the audience, waving his hand toward you. Sometimes he would come by to watch the band practice, but today you had not even seen him coming, which was a terrible sign because Pavitr always made an entrance when he stopped by.

“I thought you would be grateful for that.” You scoff.

“Hey, you can’t blame me! My eyes are sensitive.”

The typical headache starts to pound in your head like a thousand bells ringing directly in your ear. It’s disorientating the way your senses feel out of place – like a fish out of the water. Not even having superpowers was helping you stay afloat. 

You took pride in being a Spider Woman, doing your job as best as you could so that at the end of the day, Miguel would see you. Your talent, your dedication. But lately, you feel yourself falling further down in his list. And it hurts.

“It’s just that–” You sigh, rubbing your eyes again, foolishly trying to make the pain go away. The ache in your head was bad, but the one in your heart could bring you to your knees. “I’m not getting much sleep these last few weeks.”

Gwen snaps her fingers excitedly, “You should try one of those pills they hand over at the–” 

“No!” You shout before you can stop yourself; memories flood your troubled mind. The blood, the screams. Talons ripping flesh, pain consuming your body and soul. But the worst of all; his words. Gwen stops in her tracks, caught off guard by your sudden outburst. The guilty eat you away. 

“I mean, I–I’ve tried it,” You whisper, the lump forming in your throat makes it hard to say a single word, “but they… didn’t work for me.” 

The trembling of your hands caught everyone’s attention. And It’s just too much.

“I’m sorry.” Whispering, you turn around to hide your face. You take the bass strap from your shoulder and place the instrument in its case. “Let’s just wrap this up, I don’t want to waste anyone’s time.”

“Oi, Y/N,” Hobie calls for you, but you’re already grabbing your coat and heading toward the door. “We are here to help you, it’s what a band is about, innit?” 

You look over your shoulder at them, heart aching at the thought of leaving them with no explanation – as a frightened animal, cornered with nowhere to run, all bite and no apologies.

“Right,” You agree but vanish in thin air seconds later.

ll.

Time becomes its own entity when you lose track of it. It’s another late hour, probably somewhere between 3 AM, and the coffee you got from your favorite spot in town is hot against your cold fingers. You dangle your feet at the edge of a building, admiring the view of a sleepy neighbor – no matter the time, New York is always full of light. 

It’s been a few days since you left the rehearsal in a hurry, the band has been trying to get in touch with you but you’ve been avoiding taking their calls and answering their texts – you’ve been avoiding a lot of things lately. 

Like swinging in the middle of the traffic, as an example. Something that came naturally, but now it has become too dangerous. The notion of space and distance have been lost days ago together with the full awareness of your surroundings. You’ve been trying to do your job, but it has become almost impossible to pay attention to your movements when the heaviness of your limbs begs for you to slow down.

There’s also Lyla, who you've lost count of how many times she chimed in while you were working, telling you about a meeting that you had missed out on. Not that it was totally required to be there, but if once you counted the days to be in the same room as Miguel, just so you could see him, now you avoided it like the plague. 

You haven’t heard from him ever since you disappeared – only stopping by the HQ when extremely necessary – so you might not be in that much trouble. However, it definitely did some heavy damage to your heart noticing how O’Hara didn’t really need or wanted to see you in the first place. Not even a call, not even a message.

And that was devastating. 

For too long, you've been yearning for Miguel; only to be trapped in an endless nightmare. While awake, you had to live with the fact that he was out of reach – tearing your soul apart. While sleeping, violence and death had his face – tearing your whole being apart. No matter when or where; you were maimed by the same man.

Blowing out your coffee, you sigh. The lack of sleep has been taking a toll on you. It started off as simply missing the timing from one building to another, and now you can feel the nasty bruise forming on the side of your hip. Actually, your body now looks like it has been painted black and blue with the number of bruises it’s collecting. 

And you still can’t find the answer, nor any clue on how to make them go away. It will kill you eventually, you’re sure of that. It was just a matter of time now. Maybe then you could finally rest.

The bitter taste of the coffee spreads in your tongue and you welcome the caffeine with open arms. You’ve been trying to stay awake for the most part of the day, only hitting the bed when you’re completely and absolutely worn out. It does give you a few more minutes, but as the sun comes down and another moon appears, you can feel yourself slipping away, getting fewer and fewer hours of sleep, and slowly descending to madness as the nightmares start to feel more vivid, clouding your judgment.

Maybe you should ask for help, after all. 

As a result of a very slow mind, it takes you more than it should to sense a new presence on the rooftop with you. Startled, the hair on the back of your neck stands up. You quickly throw away the coffee, lamenting not being able to finish it. 

You pull your mask down; if it was another one of those villains of the week the guy was fucked because you had run out of patience. “Honestly, I’m in a really bad mood today,” You say to whoever is hiding in the shadows, your senses tingling as the figure slowly walks towards you, “No tricks, please. Let’s do this quickly.” 

The movement stops, and you roll your eyes in annoyance. Another guy who thinks that making a scary little entrance will impress you. You’re about to make a joke when the shadow speaks, making your heart stop for a second.

“Y/N.”

The cold creeps in underneath the flesh, freezing your blood and yourself in place. All the hair in your body stands up as your body tenses with trepidation and fear. There it was again, that voice that haunts you night and day. 

No, please. I’m awake, aren't I?”

It was hard to tell, as your surrounding started to blur; the sound of the street and surroundings go silent, as the only focus of your mind is the man in front of you and the way his eyes glow scarlet against the dark of the night. Your heart hammers your chest so furiously you’re afraid it might break free. 

“Y/N.” 

Miguel calls out for you again, his tone nothing more than a whisper. But you have seen this scene before; a hundred times you’ve heard those same words roll out of his tongue as if it disgusted him – as if you didn’t deserve to be mentioned it.

You flinch as he steps forward, memories of talons ripping your skin apart make you fight against the rising panic; the outcome of the nightmare is inevitable, you’ve tried to change it, but the aftermath was always the same; killed by the man you loved the most.

“Stay away from me,” You warned him. It was useless when fate seemed to have your lines already written, with no chance to change the full stop by a coma. “Please, stay away from me.”

Miguel stops, the glowing of his suit hurts your eyes. You can’t see his expression, there’s a dark shadow covering his face, but the red tint gives his demeanor a haunting feeling – another shiver runs down your spine. Your vision starts to blur; the fine line between reality and dreamland crashes together in your mind. Nothing feels real, the foggy state of mind wraps around you, gradually taking over your sanity.

So you flee. Or at least you try. 

Before you could jump from the building, Miguel’s strong hand wraps around your wrist, pulling you directly in his direction. Adrenaline pumps through your veins, and quickly you are able to untangle yourself from his grip, kicking him in the process. 

“Y/N.” You know it’s his voice, but at the same time, it doesn’t feel like it. It’s disconnected from the man you’ve grown to love. Dread gnawed at your insides as the nightmare turns into another torture section. His mouth is moving but you can’t make up the words; every sound gets lost in the loud rush of blood in your ears.

Not that you need it, anyway. You’ve been living the same dialogue over and over again to know like the back of your hand.

“Don’t hurt me again,” You plea, raw panic in your voice. Your mind is erratic, coming up with ideas on how to escape, but your body doesn’t follow the same line of thinking, “Please, I’m so tired.”

But it’s all in vain; the man bolts in your direction like an animal ready to devour its prey. You find yourself half mad with terror – your throat tightens as anxiety eclipsed your thoughts. 

Before Miguel can get to you, you attack. 

It never works as the man is way above your abilities, but you try – anything to be freed from having another slow, painful death. Gathering the last of your strength, you shoot a web that miraculously lands on his foot and it sticks to the ground. Quickly, you jump from one wall to another, landing a kick on his chest. 

It doesn’t do anything more than startle the man, but it gives you enough time to soar across the night sky, landing on another rooftop. The glowing of your watch catches your attention. Usually, you don’t have it with you, nightmares don’t really give you the option to flee. 

But it seems this one does. 

“Y/N!” Miguel roars. In the slip second your eyes had darted toward the gadget, the man had torn apart the single web holding him in place. He huffs, shoulders hunched forward as tension grows between you both. 

Against your better judgment, you shot him a glance. And like magnets, his eyes find yours in mi the sea of lights that only New York could offer.

You press the bottom, eyes fixed on the man coming towards you like a bolt. His talons cut the air in front of your eyes – almost like a kiss – the petrifying realization makes you fall on your back towards the portal. 

Then everything turns black.

lll.

When you open your eyes again, you’re absolutely and awfully exhausted. The weight of your body holds you down against the cold floor, almost as if it didn’t belong to you anymore. You had lost ownership after not taking care of it. Your eyelids are heavy, and for a moment you consider just going back to sleep, finally giving in to the sweet taste of relief. 

But then, the warnings in the back of your mind start to go off, and you remember why you can’t. Grunting, you take off your mask and pick yourself up. There was no rest for you, not until you find out what the hell happened. And if it was all in your mind, of if Miguel was there. 

Because that definitely didn’t feel like a dream. The phantom feeling of his fingers wrapped around your wrist still lingered, and the intensity of his gaze still made you shrink. A chill runs down your spine in trepidation. If he was really there were the nightmares just a premonition of the future?

No. Miguel would never do that. 

Even though he didn’t… like you as you liked him, the man didn’t have a single motive to want you dead. Miguel was many things, but mostly he was righteous. Dedicated to his job in an unhealthy, and obsessive way? Yes. However, he still had kindness hidden underneath his scowl, and even though his heart was mostly painted black by the loss of his old life, it still beat for the new ones the Spider Society protected. Besides, he still had some humor in him; a completely dated and cringe type of humor, but there.

And every time it made an appearance, you would find it adorable. A tiny smile appears on your lips. How could you not treasure every moment with him when it was all so rare? 

“Y/N?” Someone calls for you in the distance. You are still picking yourself up from the floor, the sudden movement makes you dizzy, and nauseous. You’re pretty sure you hit your head. 

“Oh my god! Are you okay?” Margo comes into view, she quickly puts one of your arms around her neck and helps you get up. “You look terrible.”

“You should see the other guy,” You try joking around. And even though the blue avatar softly huffs, her expression of concern is serious. You must look worse than you thought. 

Margo helps you get into a chair, gently holding you until you’re comfortable in your seat. “I’m sorry for barging in, I honestly didn’t know where I was going.”

“Where you running from something?” She jokingly asks. She grabs a tablet, reads something on the screen, and goes back to work.

“Yeah,” You groan, running your hand through your hair, “You could say that.”

The room was as quiet as it always was, the only sound coming from the girl who was softly humming a song. Looking around, you notice there was no one around, only the machines as a company. You wondered if Margo ever feel lonely here; the place was big enough to fit a few dozen Spiders, however, it was always deserted. The truth was that no one actually liked to be around villains after they were captured, and sending them home was a dreadful job. Margo was definitely a viable asset to the team. 

You can feel your senses start to relax, the darkroom was a perfect invitation for a well-deserved rest. But with the sleepiness came the loss of concentration, and the last time you let your guard down, you fled from a very real Miguel. 

Small talk would be, then. “So… who’s next?”

Margo picks up her tablet, tapping a few things before showing you a picture. “She calls herself 'Torment'. But you’re probably familiar with her. After all, you and Hobie caught her a few weeks ago.”

Wait. A few weeks ago? That's exactly the time when the nightmares started to occur.

Suddenly, a flashback hits you like a bullet. A purple and blue cloud, the touch of a finger. The laugh.

“Margo, I need to talk to her,” You demand, getting up from your chair as if you had been electrified. The pieces fall into place and make a clear picture. How could you have let this fly over your head? Of course, the nightmares weren’t something normal! It had to be a product of something, or someone. 

“Y/N, I need to send her ho–”

“It’s urgent,” Holding the girl’s hand in yours, you squeeze them in a silent plea, “Please, Margo. Just give me 5 minutes.”

Margo presses her lips together; you must look desperate because she sighs, defeated. Then nods, “Make it quick.” 

“Thank you.” 

-

The Send Home Machine had come out of its cocoon, and now sat atop a circular base; waiting for the command to start the process of pulling the strings to weave the portal back home. You always thought the whole mechanism was a bit too much, but if it worked, then who were you to complain?

Margo brings Torment in, and she immediately recognizes you. 

“Oh, I knew I would see you again!” The woman’s face lights up like a Christmas tree – that couldn't be a good sign. She claps her hands, bouncing on her feet. “Looking for answers, darling?”

A cold shiver runs down your spine, but it’s not fear that spreads through your veins. It’s anger. “What did you do to me?”

The woman laughs, throwing her head back. You can clearly see she was having too much fun with you. “Now you’re interested in what I’ve to say? You didn’t seem that excited when I first came to you and your little friend.”

Your blood boils. If she wasn’t already locked up and ready to be sent home, you would definitely teach her a lesson or two. Your knuckles go white as the woman stares, the smile on her face is disturbing. How could she find pleasure in tormenting someone like that?

The sound of the engine turning startles you, Margo sends you an apologetic look as the machine descends from its place atop the base. You’re getting out of time.

“What do you want?” You shout, desperate. You can’t imagine going another week, another day haunted like this. “Tell me!”

Torment’s stare is piercing, a shadow crosses her face when the smile fades into a thin line. The silence was agonizing, and with each tread of the web, you felt your sanity slipping away. This was your last chance.

“I’m so fucking tired!” You cry out, hitting the glass so hard it almost cracks. “Do you know how it feels to not get a single hour of sleep because your nightmares are too fucking real? Do you have a single idea of how torturing it is to have him, of all people–” Margo was listening, but you didn’t care. You wanted answers and you would get them. “Why him?”

“Poor little thing. You haven’t figured it out yet?” she hums, furrowing her eyebrows. And you hate the look of pity she has on her face. It was her that did this in the first place! “That must be tough, to keep all of that to yourself.”

No one knew about your feelings for Miguel. Well, you had a slight hunch that maybe Peter B. Parker might have noticed it. But otherwise, you kept all to yourself. Treasuring little moments as precious jewelry.

He was your boss! And besides, he was still too caught up in his late family. He would never open his heart again after the tragedy bestowed upon him. You couldn't blame him; a man forever stuck in the past, reliving each moment when he was happy.

However, sometimes, you would catch him looking. Exchange glances in a crowded room; during meetings. You would spend time with him alone; in a comfortable silence hard to find, or in an easy-going atmosphere that left you smiling like an idiot. 

But that was what they were, fleeting moments. And even though sometimes you dreamed about a future where you could give him all the love he deserved, they were just that; silly dreams. There was no space for you in his life. You had accepted that long ago.

“You see, my abilities are a gift,” Torment simply says, still unphased at your suffering. “They search deep in your soul for what you seek the most. The nightmares are just an incentive to make you finally take the big step.”

“What?” A memory comes to the forefront of your mind; a finger touching your forehead, the slight shock that sent you back a few steps. Miguel’s face appears right after the electric feeling dissipates. “What do you mean?”

“You know very well,” There’s some sort of twisted kindness when her smile appears again, it irks you profoundly, “Take care, darling. You can thank me later.”

The machine finishes threading the web, encapsulating the woman inside a honey-colored web. The last thing you see is her waving at you before disappearing into nothing.

Outraged, you punch the glass again, and again. No, no, no. This can’t be happening! That woman must be lying, there’s no way the cure to this torment is–

“Calm down, Y/N!” Margo holds your wrist before you can land another hit. She’s saying something but you can’t hear it. Anxiety takes over your body as you crouch on the floor, hiding your face in your arms. 

You will have to tell Miguel. 

And that was worse than any other nightmare. 

[writer-komaru]

* ੈ✩‧₊˚ Aura of Temptations ᙏ̤̫’’ .(‘♡°༘,*)

✧Rating: Smut + Fluff + Comfort

✧Characters: Asmodeus

✧Word Count: 5’4k

✧Summary: You find yourself suddenly pulled into Asmo’s room for an all intensive pampering session after days of not sleeping or taking care of yourself. At first you blissfully believe he’s just trying to help, but you begin to pick up on some more sexual undertones. He uses the mask of pampering to cleverly hide his true intentions of getting to third base before his brothers using some of the tactics he’s all too good at. Can you resist his seductive nature or will you tangle yourself in his velvety spider web of pleasure and have his way with you?~ ♡

“Ughhh… finally, I’m done,” You groan in relief as you close the last heavy book and place it onto a tall pile of other books, “After three fucking hours… I’ve finally done it! I’m freeee!!”

You threw your arms into the air with a tired cheer, arching your back while you’re at it to ease the aching feeling in your back. You’ve been hunched over these dusty books for what felt like a century; reading them over, writing down notes, rereading them, writing more notes, and rereading once again just in case. This so-called “academic training” Lucifer is putting you through is really testing your mental and physical capabilities. If it wasn’t for Mammon sweet talking you into a “fun family study session” just to run off, leaving it to you to pick up his slack, you would probably be out enjoying the fresh, hellish air, living your best life. But it didn’t matter to you anymore! After pulling a few all nighters and stealing a few caffeine patches from Lucifer while he was busy yelling at Satan’s cat for scratching the curtains, you completed two essays on the history of magic in Devildom, a data sheet comparing the changes in climate to the local impact of the town, and a cross word filled with all kinds of buzz words related to human culture. Lucifer explained to you how these exercises would not only strengthen important studying, reading comprehension, memory, and information gathering skills needed in everyday life, but would also help you learn more about the unfamiliar place you’ve found yourself in. And no matter how hard you begged on your knees to get out of it, he only doubled down, stating clearly that if you couldn't complete a basic essay, there was no way you were fit to be their assistant. You had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from mentioning that the only tasks you have been given so far are either simple errands that require little to no brain power or basic chores you’ve already done religiously back in the human world. But once again, none of it matters now that you’re free! You quickly carry your finished work into his office and set it in the designated basket. After peeling off the caffeine patches and taking a nice, big, well deserved stretch, instead of being filled with joy once again, you’re filled with a sense of overwhelming discomfort.

“I feel I aged twenty years… guess I should just go to my room and hibernate for the next few years,” you laugh to yourself as you try to hobble back to your room. But suddenly, something stops you. You tilt your head in confusion at the strange aura coming from the stairs. After rubbing your delirious eyes, you stealthily hone in on the target, hiding strategically behind the various tables and pillars in the hallway. As you take a peek up the stairs you notice the aura seems to be coming from upstairs, trickling down the steps like an ominous cloud of smoke. What in the world could be going on up there? Isn’t everybody out taking a stroll around Devildom? At least that’s what Lucifer told you before ditching you… grrr, you’ll get him back one day. Him and Mammon, too! Anyways, back to the problem at hand. If the house should pretty much be left just to you, then what’s with all this strange aura stuff you’re seeing? You rub your eyes again, just to make sure your exhausted brain isn’t playing tricks with you, yet the aura is still there. Summoning all the courage you can muster, you carefully tip toe up the stairs. If it couldn’t get any stranger, after reaching the fifth step, the aura suddenly dissipates.

“What the…? It’s… gone?” You scratch the back of your head and shrug, “Guess it was nothing. I really need some damn sleep before I seriously start to hallucinate.”

Turning around, you begin to make your way back to your room. As soon as your hand wraps around the doorknob, you feel a sudden, light grasp on your shoulder.

“Ohh MC~ ♡” A voice draws out your name with a pleasing tone.

“GAAHHHHH!!!!” If it wasn’t for physics, you would have probably jumped 12 feet into the air. Your body spasms in surprise as you almost fall limply to the ground if it wasn’t for this mysterious intruder catching you.

“Oops! I guessed I scared you. I’m sorry, MC, hehe~♡ How did your studies go- AGHH!!!” Your tired eyes open just enough to watch Asmodeus’s face twist into a look of absolute horror, “Oh my God!! MC, You look like you haven’t slept or been outside in years!”

“I feel just as bad as I look right now…” You chuckle miserably.

“Oh my poor dear, don’t you worry! Asmo’s got you now. I’ll nurture you back to your sweet, adorable self in no time!~” He giggles to himself before sweeping you up in his arms and carrying you up stairs and to his room. The gentle yet firm hold is almost enough to make you fall asleep already. When your eyes blink open yet again, you’re greeted by the comforting atmosphere of Asmo’s gorgeous room. Such a welcoming sight… you feel your body carefully placed on a plush chair.

“Now, what to do, what to do… hmmm… ah! I have just the idea!” He exclaims and smooths a hand over your head, “I was actually planning on giving myself a pampering session today, but I think you might need it a bit more than me right now. Would you like that, MC?~ ♡” He smiled down at you and rubbed the side of your head.

“God, That would literally be so perfect… thank you so so much, Asmo,” You nod enthusiastically like a kid who’s offered a mountain high pile of toys.

“That’s great to hear~ ♡” his thumb brushes over your cheek for a few seconds before he leans even closer.

“The bath will take a few more minutes to fill up. Is there anything specifically you want me to do to pamper you?” You feel his body hover over yours, whether it’s intentional or not is beyond your mental capacity.

“I’m up for anything, really. Just something that will help me relax,” you sighed, looking up into his eyes to catch the faint glint in his eyes.

“That can certainly be arranged, no worries. I’ll do everything I can to make you feel nice today after working on all those assignments for Lucifer. Mmm, maybe you even deserve a small kiss? Hehehe, I’m just kidding~ unless you want one?” He inches his face closer to yours, laughing softly at the blush it’s beginning to develop.

“Blushing already?~ ♡” he teases.

“You’re… really close, is all,” you murmur and look away. You gasp slightly as he grabs your chin and turns you to look at him again.

“Is that really all…?~” his warm breath brushes against your skin. What was he up to… before you could get even more overwhelmed, you gently pushed him back by the shoulders.

“A little too close. Aren’t you supposed to be taking care of me, not doing… whatever this is,” you try to laugh it off but in reality your mind is racing a mile a minute.

“You’re right, my bad~ The bath should probably be ready now. There’s just one more thing left to do…” Your sleepy eyes snap open as his hands rest on your waist. He notices your reaction and softly shushes you.

“Shhh~ You’ll let me take care of you, right? In your state, I doubt you could do this on your own without falling over. May I do the honors?~ ♡” he asks with a sickeningly sweet voice that has your body strangely getting hotter. Well… he was kinda right. You wouldn’t be surprised if you toppled over just trying to stand up. He just wanted to do you a favor, and yeah, being undressed would probably be really embarrassing, but if it meant you got your needs taken care of, maybe I will be a worthy sacrifice.

You once again gathered your courage and nodded as a sigh of consent, “Yeah… just don’t get frisky or I’m telling Lucifer.”

“You have my word, even if it will be a bit hard to resist~ ♡” he chuckles softly as his fingers dip under the waistband of your shorts. There’s a certain look in his eyes, one that seems to read ‘Sit back and relax, I’ll pamper you to your heart’s content~’ but that might be what he wants you to know… either way, you couldn’t help but let out small whimpers as he slides your shorts off your ankles.

“Mmmm… these are quite pretty~♡ I’ll keep on for now,” his hungry eyes fixate on your exposed panties. Just as you’re about to swat and push him away, you sense something. That aura from before, you can feel it again, clear as day. Was that aura… coming from him all along? There’s no doubt in your mind he’s the source of it. But why? What could it be? While you’re busy deciphering the strange aura, you fail to realize your shirt is already off and folded off to the side. You come back to reality as he whispers in your ear.

“You look absolutely gorgeous like this, it’s getting a lot more difficult to restrain myself… but I can tell you’re slowly feeling the same way too, am I correct?~ ♡” he giggles devilishly.

“What do…” you don’t even have to finish that question as you feel his touch return to your sides, ever so lightly sliding up and down. The touch causes you to shiver.

“Mmm? Are you a bit sensitive, hon?” He asks in an innocent voice as his fingertips trail down to a much less innocent area. You have no idea what he’s up to but it could be sleep deprivation or the building needs pooling inside of you, whatever it is, you feel your self restraint easing away. Your face felt progressively hotter, your breathing becoming more shallow, the obvious hint begging the poor spot between your gets growing needier by the second.

‘Come on, brain! I know you’re almost dead, but please let me use a few more brain cells!’ You pleaded to yourself, ‘Think, MC, Think! Use Lucifer’s teachings as an example. What does it have in common? The aura is caused by Asmo… these symptoms happened after his touch… and… he’s the Avatar of…? That’s it!’

“Asmo, are you trying to sedu-“ before you could even admit your findings, he suddenly lifts you up into his arms once again.

“We better hurry before the bath overflows!~ ♡” Such a beautifully innocent expression… he’s hiding something, that’s for sure. You just have to stay conscious a little longer and… your breath is completely taken away as you enter his oasis of a bathroom. It looked like something you’d only see in magazines. Magnificently smooth marble pillars, cascading, translucent curtains tied back with pink roses, intricate patterned tiles all surrounding the main centerpiece of the bathroom. The bath. And it was nothing short of luxurious. It was decked out with foamy bubbles and scattered with pink rose petals. You pause for a few seconds to take in the senses around you. There’s faint, jazzy music playing from a small speaker on a vanity, the unique scent of what you could only describe as hints of strawberry and vanilla, and the soft gurgling of steamy water filling the tub. He glances over at your fascinated expression and chuckles in amusement. He steps closer to the bath and sits you down at the edge.

“Does that cute expression mean you like it?” He reaches over and turns off the tap. All you can manage is a nod, which is enough to satisfy him.

“One moment, let me prepare everything I’ll need to make you feel like your refreshed self again,” he walks over to the vanity and begins taking some things out of the draws. The moment apart gives you the chase to finally breathe. There’s something about him right now that’s both overwhelming and exciting, it’s honestly rather intiscing, but you’d never admit that. You begin to regain your ability to have rational thought. He’s definitely up to something and using his aura and physical advances to accomplish it. You gulped nervously. If his aura really is what you think it is, you don’t know how much longer you’ll be able to resist it. And if the rest of the guys even just find out about the fact he undressed you, you’d never hear the end of it. You jump as Asmo happily strunts back to you, laying a tray of numerous goodies on the edge of the bath. You whine internally as all your rational thoughts seem to go back out on vacation, right when you needed them most.

“Hon, can you look into my eyes for a second?~” His alluring voice causes your dilated eyes to meet his equally, if not even more, dilated eyes. Everything about this felt like a fever dream…

“I know it’s all going pretty quickly for you, but I want to pause for a moment to ask for your permission to take the rest off. I’ll only do it if you want me to,” his voice has a new sense of worry in it that has your heart skipping a beat. This is your chance, you can finally confront him on his sneaky actions! You can remind him how upset everyone would be with him for seeing you in nothing but your bra and panties. But instead… you say, “Yeah… I want that.”

His gaze is unwavering, searching for any major signs of appreciation. After a few seconds, he relents and returns to his cheeky smiling self.

“Thank you for this opportunity… I definitely won’t take it for granted~ ♡” He leans over you and runs his hands in circles over your hips. This tease, it’s like he could read you like a fucking picture book. How did he know your hips were sensitive? How did he know you always shiver when he whispers into your ears? How did he know the effect his prolonged gaze on your body has on your heart? Oh, he wasn’t just a tease, he was the Avatar of Lust. He knew how to get people worked up and he was clearly exploiting his knowledge to use it against you.

“Mmph!” You bit your lip to hold back your noises as he began to pull down your panties. Was this really happening? Was this even okay? You felt like you were at a boiling point. If he caught even a glimpse at the absolute mess you were down there, you’re absolutely sure his little teasing game would only get worse. And worse it did.

“Wooowww~ ♡ look at that…” He licked his lips at the strings of liquid desire that clung from your aching cunt to the wet spot left in your panties. If humiliation was a grain of samd, you were a fucking desert right now. You whined in embarrassment but couldn't hold back how your pussy twitched.

“You’re even wetter than I could have ever hoped you’d be… mmmm… and how you keep twitching, I think you like this too. What a naughty girl you are… ♡” he kisses your cheek and traces a finger down your lower stomach, “but, I like that about you~ ♡”

Just as his finger gets mere inches away from your swollen clit, he feels your hips twitch away. He smirks and takes his hand away.

“Your gorgeous body almost made me forget why I brought you here~ Silly me, can’t have this getting wet, either~ ♡” you gasp as he lips your bra and sets it to the side. When he looks back over at you, he sees your hands desperately trying to cover your breasts. He finds it both amusing and adorable.

“Go ahead and slide into the bath. Tell me if it’s too warm or cold for you and I’ll adjust the temperature if needed,” he gives you a playful wink as you turn your back to him and hop in the bath. As soon as the warm, soapy water envelops your skin, you’re unable to suppress your moan in time. How could you not, this water felt incredible to your poor, sore muscles and aching body. You let your body rest against the edge as the intoxicating smell made you dizzy.

“Ahhh… hah….” You panted.

“Does it feel good?~ You definitely look like you’re enjoying yourself. Mind if… I join?~ ♡” You heard his sultry voice whisper in your ear as he joins you in the bath. You glance over at him. He’s… he’s n-naked too? As if this situation couldn’t get any more lewd, he sits down in front of your spread legs.

He strokes your cheek softly, “Your mind looks like it’s not quite here… how cute. ♡ I think you’ve waited long enough for your promised pampering. Just sit back and relax~ You’re in capable hands~ ♡”

That’s the last thing you remember hearing from him as your exhausted brain finally takes a well needed break, just for a while. You have just enough consciousness left to feel the numerous amounts of face masks, creams, rollers, and much more he uses on you. Compared to his touch from before that was practically quaking with desire, his touch now was a lot more gentle and loving. He fussed over each and every detail of your face mask, adjusting them to fit your face perfectly. Sooner or later, he began to soak some rich soap into your messy hair and gently scratch at your scalp. It felt so nice to be taken care of, to be loved after putting yourself through hell and back. You weren’t surprised in the slightest when you opened your eyes to see him presenting you a cup of tea. Did you just… fall asleep?

“Good morning, darling. You fell asleep while I was washing your hair so I decided to give you a break while I made you some tea. It should give you back some of your missing entertainment,” he set the teacup in your heads and rubbed a hand over your shoulder, “I know this has been a lot for you, so please take it easy. I wouldn’t wanna push you past your comfort zone,” he cooed sweetly.

You didn’t even realize how thirsty you were until the tea slipped down your throat. It tasted wonderful, like a flurry of peaches and mint. It wasn’t long until you finished the whole cup and sat it down on the tray with the leftover supplies.

“Heheh, good. How do you feel? A little less tired, I hope?” He soothed.

“Mhm… yeah, I’m feeling a lot better, actually,” you rub the sleep from your eyes.

“That’s wonderful, I’m glad~ now that you’re awake, it might be time to move to the main event~ ♡” he chucked.

“Main event…? What d-does… that mean?” You shivered, fainting innocence.

“Well, how can I call this a true pampering session until I give you… a little bit of a massage, hm? Would that feel nice on all your aches and pains?” His tantalizing touch drifted all the way from your shoulders to down on your thighs, “I’m assuming your body has been aching for some touch for quite a while, hasn’t it?”

Your breathing grew more and more uneven as his aura filled your mind with a desire… a desire for him. For his touch, “yeah… I… I feel strange...”

“Oh? Strange how? Does it hurt?” He hum’s curiously as his thumbs massage the muscles of your thighs.

“N-no, it... Aghh…you… you know what it is…” You look away out of embarrassment from his blatant teasing.

“Mmm? Could it be… a need, of sorts? ♡” His thumbs circle over your inner thigh.

“Hahh… agh… yeah… like… a need… a strong need,” you felt your pussy fluttering around nothing as his touch only got closer, “why… are you… doing this…?”

“It’s simple… It's because I love you, hon. More than anything I can name… more than I can even understand. I have this urge inside of me whenever I see you. It wants you, all of you. And now…” a strange pink smoke begins to swirl around him as his eyes glow brightly, “I get you all to myself~ ♡” You watch helplessly as he sprouts wings and horns, grinning sinisterly at you. Your breather quickens as he more roughly squeezes your thighs just to hear you whine. He leans in, so close you might just lose your mind, “I know how badly you need me too. I can practically smell it~ want me to help you? Relieve that desire that’s burning under your skin?~ ♡”

His dirty words made you whine. There’s no way you could resist him, not in this form. You’ll just have to deal with the problems later because right now you just want this demon in front of you to do whatever he wants with you.

“I think I know a certain spot that’s been begging for my attention ever since I saw those cute panties~ ♡ let’s see if I can fix that…” his wild eyes look below the crystal clear water as his delicate fingers spread your pussy wide open. Your shift around uncomfortably at being so open to the water swirling around you. As soon as you feel the sinful press of his pointer finger and middle finger against your clit, you stifle a moan and twitch your hips eagerly.

“Oh, someone’s excited, hm? Is it because of me… or maybe the spell I’ve cast on you? ♡ Maybe both~” he giggles to himself.

Spell? Is that what all the aura was- Your train of thought vanishes completely as his fingers rub small circles against your swollen bud.

“Nghh… ahh.. oh fuck….” You whine as you pussy clenches even more. It already feels like so much, but you so desperately wanted to beg for some stimulation to your cunt too. Your wish would soon be granted as you feel his two fingers slide down to your cunt and rub it up and down, making sure to continue rubbing circles on your clit with his thumb.

“Is that better?~ Even in the water I can feel how slick you are. You must like this a lot, hm? Hehe, I don’t think I even need to ask~ ♡” his fingers slowly and carefully pushed inside your twitching hole.

“Aaghhh… f-fuck… oh god, Asmo.. agh…” you’re reduced to a whining, shivering mess as his fingers explore the insides of your pussy. And they were so talented too. They immediately knew the exact gummy spot inside of you to rub to make your eyes roll back. It just felt too good, you couldn’t do anything but moan and twitch. You wanted more but you were also scared of what more would feel like. His wrist started to quickly flick his fingers in and out of your trembling pussy, jabbing right against your g-spot and pressing harder on your clit. You felt like your body wasn’t even your wit control anymore, you were totally at his mercy.

“Mmmphhh… you’re clenching on me so tightly, and it’s so warm~ ♡ I could just do this forever…” he sighed dreamily as his motions sped up. How could he keep such a relaxed face while you were fucking fighting for your life? It felt like your senses were on fire, like your cunt was ready to cum at any second.

“Ready to cum so early? Hehe, I don’t blame you, I’m quite good at this. After all, I’m the Avatar of Lust. I can make you feel things no other demon can ever dream of making you feel. Hehehe~ ♡ How about I make a deal… I’ll let you cum as many times as you want if you chose me and only me instead of my brothers. How about that? Doesn’t that sound fantastic~ ♡♡”

It does sound rather tempting, but you could care less about deals right now. The only thing you want is to cum, cum around his skilled fingers. If that meant being his forever, then that’s just a plus.

“Aaghh p-please… I’m yours, only yours. Please Asmo, I need to cum so badly… I can’t hold it much longer..” you cried out.

He smiles devilishly, “Perfect answer, my love… go on, let go of everything and release all that cum for me…♡ cum for your demon~ ♡”

The final thread of restraint snaps as you moan desperately, squeezing on his fingers so good he feels his dick twitch in anticipation.

“Aghh… hahhh… oh god… that… that was amazing… felt amazing….” You heaved in between each word as you lay limp against the edge of the bath. The post orgasm bliss felt like heaven but it was quickly ripped away from you as Asmo’s fingers contributed to thrust you open.

“Gah, w-what, n-no hurts please, please no more… Aghh…” it didn’t take long for the pain to melt into mouth watering pleasure as he stimulated your poor little clit over and over again.

“Mmm I think you’re pretty much ready to take me now… that is if you wanna. I can keep fingering you if that’d make you feel best, cutie~” he playfully licked the outer shell of your ear.

Even though his fingers felt like heaven, you could only imagine how good his dick would feel. Would it feel even better? Oh you just had to give it a try~ You lean back and wrap your legs around his waist.

“Hehehe someone’s eager, huh? Aghh… I’ll try to be gentle… just don’t squeeze too hard or else I might break that promise~ ♡” He snickered as he lifted your hips up and angled his throbbing dick to your overstimulated cunt. You mind raced with ideas of how big he could be but as soon as you felt his head rub against your entrance you could already feel your legs beginning to give out. He’s… pretty big…

He smirked at the worry in your eyes, “Are worried I’ll hurt your tight little cunt or I’ll make you feel so good you won’t be able to get off without my dick?~ ♡ just i’ll have to figure it out as me go~ ♡” without very much of a warning, you felt the head slip in past your entrance to right against that sweet spot of yours. And holy fuck we’re you enjoying it. Even though he warned you, he was too big, you had no choice but to squeeze him like your life depended on it.

“Aaghhh… p-please sweetie, loosen up or else I can’t go deeper… damn it I wanna fuck you so bad… ♡” he grit is teeth in agony and pleasure. He brought a quick finger to your clit and gave it some deep rubs, thankfully coaxing a moan out and letting you loosen up for him a little. His hips snapped forward again and again and again, each time he made sure to hit your g-spot straight on.

“Aaaagghhh Asmo I can’t I can’t it’s too much!!!~” you wailed as you felt another orgasm approaching.

“My dear please… you’re squeezing so fucking hard you’re going to… drive me crazy!~ ♡♡” he dug his nails deep into your plush hips and thrusted into you at such a fast rhythm it left you right at the edge.

“Aghhhh I’m going to break… s-slow down, my pussy is going to die!!!~” you cling onto the mable for dear life as the demon drilled into you from behind. It felt so lewd but it also felt like heaven~ yet you still needed more, “pleaseeee Asmo I’m begging you I need more!~”

“Still need more?~ ♡ can’t wait to get to that edge?” He teased in your ear with a chuckle.

“Pleaseeee I’d do anything please make me cum again~” You cried out, unable to even process the words fully before they left you mouth.

“I.. agh… think I got just the idea.. brace yourself… for the might of the avatar of lust~ ♡” He stayed thrusting into you even faster but that wasn’t the main focus. No, because when you began to feel a strange vibration sensation emerge from his dick, tremouring right against your cervix you were just wailing, you were screaming.

“Oh gods, oh gods this can’t be real… asagghhhhhhh!!~ why is it vibrating so hard?!!~ how.. how is it even doing that?!!” You didn’t know if you were more scared or excited by this new discovery. All you knew is your pussy was twitching like crazy against the sinful vibrations wracking through his clock and right against your sensitive walls and clit.

“The avatar of lust has more than a few tricks up his sleeve to make just about anyone come undone on my dick~ ♡ you’ll find out soon enough if you’d like, hon~ ♡ Ahh… just… let me fuck that tight pussy nice and hard~ ♡” your back arched on command as he growled in your ear. Moans and grunts left your lips like a constant prayer, it’s just too fucking good, way more than a human like her should be able to handle. That was until Asmo finally snapped and flipped her around so ass was in full display for him. She didn’t even bother asking what was going on, just moaning and begging for more of his vibrating dick. He mounted her and quickly remained fucking her pussy into oblivion. The change of position allowed him to directly assault her poor, poor absurd cervix. Each snap of his hips against her ass sent electricity straight to her pussy which was dying to cum from all the extreme vibrations.

“Aaghhh Ahh Ahh AGHHH AGHHH!!~” Her moans grew louder and louder as she got closer to cumming, “I’m close so fucking close please just ruin me-“ suddenly, there was a series of stomping footsteps and opening and slamming of doors. They were all home already?! Shit, why now!? Right when you’re on the brink of one of the best orgasms in your life!! As you turned around to give Asmo a sad look, you were greeted with a smirk. Don’t tell me. His thrusts went faster and faster and faster until the water started to splash out of the bath and onto the floor.

“Waaaittttt we're gunna get caught aaghhhh!!!~” your eyes roll into the back of your head.

“Don’t matter to me… I’ve been aching for sex with you for way to damn long to stop now~ ♡ Come on, give them a nice loud moan~ let them know who you belong to~ tell them who fucks you’re beautiful, tight pussy the best!~ ♡” He bends your back into a perfect arch, only applied by the intense lust magic he forces into you.

“Aaaagghhh!~~ AAAAGGHHHHHH ASMOOOOOOO DOESSSS!!!~” You released a loud scream as you came yet again, shivering pathetically. Your eyes screwed together as his passion fucking didn’t even hesitate. You were losing your damn mind and basking in it.

“Let’s keep going… until we finally get caught~♡” he laughed wildly, clearly getting drunk off your pussy. But you were just as drunk off of his dick too.~ You nodded in agreement and continued moaning like he’s rearranging your guts. It felt so good, so, so deliciously good. You never wanted this to stop.

Sure enough, the door creaked open, revealing the first unlucky person to witness the lust-filled display that the two of them were putting on. Their jaw dropped open at the sight of a wildly out of control Asmo practically bending you in half and slamming into you at such a furious pace you just couldn't stop cumming. His erotic magic surged through your veins as you kept shouting, moan after moan, dirtying the water with your combined cum. Your face was permanently twisted into a lewd expression as you felt your whole body alight in a constant explosion of pleasure from his none stop fucking and overwhelming magic.

“Agaghhhhhhhhh~” You sobbed out in bliss.

“If… you want us to stop… you’re going to have to kill me~ ♡” Asmodeus flashed the intruder a spine chilling death stare and groaned in pleasure as he plunged in deeper.

Reblog + Like + Comment if you wanna see even more obey me or Asmo in specific posts (hehehehe I had a lotta fun writing this I’m such a simp for asmo I hope I did him justice <3)

(I’ve been writing for like 8 hours with no hours of sleep I think I might take a break tomorrow. I’ll make a poll for my next post in a few days or so, I need to recharge)

[heron-knight]

As per your requests, something else with mechs.

in my opinion, this is how all Pegasus license levels happen

For as long as there has been warfare, there has been nothing more chaotic than the battlefield. There is only so far that strategy can go, because no matter what plans you make, no matter what the people say who think that strategy and resources is all there is to war because they have not been there themselves, there is always that moment where the the first shot is fired where all your plans pour out of your mind like blood dripping from a gunshot wound in an instant, where the two sons of Mars flow through the formerly organized ranks like ink on a cloth. Fear and Panic will always take hold, even after one of them vanished from the sky. No matter what predictions you make, to step into a battle is to offer yourself up to the whims of fate. Even as the storm above changed from stones to bullets to railgun rounds, RA only knows where each will end. Well, RA and one other.

Perched atop the highest points of the battle, wrapped tightly in cables and surrounded by heads-up displays, a library’s worth of information flowing from the Swallowtail’s cameras directly through her eyes, brain, and through the interface ports in the back of her skull every second, Isabel Ardea saw everything. Every shot fired, every weak point in the enemy frames. Each step that stumbled slightly, causing them to drop their guard for a second. She saw them. The lights of the screens danced across her retinas, showing her every aspect of the war at once. Each snap of shrike armor piercing through the hull of a grappled mech half a mile away. Each drop of molten metal onto the ground as the exterior plating of a tokugawa began to melt, tearing through its enemies like a flame across paper, driven by an NHP that did not know the pilot was dead and wouldn’t have cared if it knew. The information surged through her mind, filling every corner of her consciousness with data that the computer poured in before withdrawing it to replace it with new information fifty times a second, a rhythm of uploads and downloads to the chips that lined the inside of her skull that pulsed like a heartbeat of knowledge inside her skull. and she had never felt so alive. Suspended from the cables and swaying slightly with every shot of the Oracle LMG, she was like a spider at the center of her web, sensing each movement of the things within it as, with a message to command regarding the supply trucks on the other side of the hill, a storm of orbital cannon fire falling like meteors on the exact location she had indicated. The whole battlefield was like a tapestry she knew how to weave because she saw every thread, and everyone danced on her strings. Outside of combat she had a similar reputation. Half the time if someone needed to know something, they would just ask Isabel and she would always know the answer, sometimes before they finished asking the question. If someone had lost something, chances are they would find her wandering the halls looking for them because she had found it. She never forgot a face, remembered every name, and could memorize the mannerisms of someone to the extent that not even her NHP could tell the difference between her and someone she was trying to mimic when texting. She had only one weakness-- the actual combat side of a fight. Aside from her Oracle LMG, her Swallowtail had practically no method of taking someone out. Luckily, she had someone to deal with that. 

After the battle, she untied the ropes and cables that SSC insisted on installing instead of a cockpit. Dropping to the floor of the compartment, she stumbled over to the hatch, her balance still thrown off by the constant swaying of the last several hours. There was the familiar hiss of air as the compartment depressurized and she stepped out into the hangar. The walkways were packed with other pilots returning from the mission. She knew the names of everyone that wasn’t there that day, their mechs now smouldering heaps of slag being hosed down by the station Lancasters if they had been brought back at all. She hadn’t fully gotten used to it, but it wasn’t like she had the choice to not notice it. She took another look across the hangar before heading down the stairs and over to Koira’s mech. 

When Isabel had requested a solution to her low defensive capabilities, she had been surprised when they wheeled in a cryopod. “This one’s a bit tricky to keep alive” they had said, “but we think you’ll be able to handle her. It’ll definitely be worth it. You won’t find a better guard dog this side of the galaxy.” she had been under for quite some time, as was made clear by her antiquated hardware. None of the fancy interface ports that sealed automatically when you removed the cables, just the old-fashioned ones that let you see a full six inches into someone’s skull and prevented them from showering normally. Both the tech and the training had been heavily revised since she had received them. Pilots from Koira’s time were taught that they were weapons and modified until they practically were, and that didn’t just go away because there was no longer any such thing as handlers and she had been asked to choose a name that wasn’t a serial number. She had chosen “Koira,” and they thought nothing of it due to their limited linguistic knowledge. Isabel, meanwhile, knew fully that it meant “dog.” she hadn’t tried to stop her or get her to pick a different one, as unlike command, she knew that it wouldn’t be easy to adjust to being expected to be a person, and that it would be a while before she was able to live without the knowledge that she didn’t have to be the one making the decisions. She had followed Isabel around the station constantly for the first few months, never reacting well when left alone and usually draped over Isabel’s shoulders whenever she sat down or stopped walking. With her variety of unusual traits, It wasn’t all that surprising when she slid her license through the fabricator and the mech it printed was strange. A “Gorgon” command had called it, an unsettling thing that sat on oddly-shaped legs, its four long arms stretching out at odd angles, the fingers spindly and mildly offputting. A number of long antennas protruded straight forward from the place where its face would be, an odd piece of equipment that’s function would not be revealed some time, as Koira never wanted to talk about it other than that she didn’t like to use it. On the battlefield it was shockingly effective, tearing into anything that got remotely close to Isabel with a level of ferocity that she hadn’t seen even during the mission when she had encountered the Enkidu and rendering things immoble with a glance. Even when Koira was outside her mech, Isabel felt safer whenever she was around. 

She reached up from the walkway and ran her fingers along the rough surface of Koira’s mech. The cameras that dotted the surface in no particular order followed her hand as she slid it to the edge of the hatch and pressed the emergency release as she had done after every mission since she had met her “guard dog.” her hair flapped behind her as the pressurized air rushed out of the interior of the mech before falling back to her shoulders as she opened the compartment. Koira stumbled slightly before pitching forward and falling into her arms, the long cable sliding from the port in the back of her skull as she fell. She was always tired after missions. Maybe her mech didn’t give her as many stimulants, or maybe she simply tired herself out destroying anything she thought was a threat to Isabel as if any simple mistake would lead to her death. She muttered something as Isabel carried her down the stairs and through the crowds of the hanger, a question that followed every mission always in the same soft, exhausted yet determined voice-- “did I do good?” Isabel smiled and ran her fingers through Koira’s hair as she walked. They reached her room, the door sliding open automatically as soon as they approached. She set her down gently on the bed before lying down next to her, Koira positioned in between her and the door as she always insisted. Isabel pulled her closer, helping her move arms that were too tired to lift all the way  until Koira was able to wrap them around her. Isabel closed her eyes and focused on all the things she could feel-- the soft hum of station machinery. The warmth and weight that pressed against her, spending what little energy remained on ensuring that Isabel was safe before she drifted to sleep. Each breath and heartbeat. She ran her hand along Koira’s back, leaning in until she knew that she could feel the warmth of each exhale on her neck. She whispered softly to her. Thank you. You did really well today. You’ve always known how to keep me safe. 

She needed to be reminded of that. For her, it was all she existed for-- her set of instructions that she would follow at any cost, and if she wasn’t told that she had done well, she would always try harder. There had been an incident, once, where Isabel had scanned too fast and her computer had started to overheat. Koira hadn’t noticed the Lancaster and it had surprised her. She had rushed over to it in an instant, slamming into it and grabbing it with all four arms. She didn’t realize what it was until she had fired up the Basilisk and projected it directly into the Lancaster’s visual sensors point blank. Isabel realized why Koira didn’t like using it when they pulled the pilot out of the frame. He had been completely unresponsive, his eyes not focusing and his face covered in tears. He wouldn’t eat anymore, and couldn’t sleep without medication. It had taken months to piece his brain back together, and he still didn’t talk anymore. The night after that mission, she had tried to stand outside the door all night, unable to look Isabel in the eye but still needing to defend her. She had collapsed one hour into the night, and was too tired to stop Isabel from moving her back to the bed. She stayed awake for most of that night, keeping an eye on Koira. Even after she fell asleep, Isabel could still hear her breathing heavily as her tears soaked into the pillow. The times she had been quiet had been worse though, as every time her breathing slowed, there was always the fear that in that moment she had decided that she was too dangerous and stopped. She never fully accepted that it wasn’t her fault, and still looked at her Gorgon with the same apprehension that everyone else did. 

Isabel woke up in the middle of the night to find that Koira was not next to her. She had known that there had been some routine maintenance scheduled after the mechanics had found some anomalies with the Gorgon’s NHP, but she didn’t think anything of it until the alarms began to sound throughout the station and a panicked technician threw open the door shouting that Koira’s mech was cascading. Isabel rushed out of bed, throwing on her uniform and sprinting down the station’s hallways to the hangar. There was a heavy sense of dread that formed in the back of her mind as she reached her Swallowtail, pulling the emergency scaffolding release lever and climbing inside. It seeped into the computer as she linked to it, making every step feel heavier as it lurched forward into the hangar, snapping the access ladder that she didn’t wait for someone to remove. She rushed down past rows of mechs, each movement shaking her violently within the frame as she hadn’t gotten a chance to properly put on the harness, moving in that odd way that a Swallowtail runs, halfway between galloping and skittering. It wasn’t long before she heard the first hints of gunfire echoing across the hangar, and saw the Gorgon as it attacked the small squad of station guards that had responded to the alarms. It was even before she got closer that she knew. Before she saw the open cockpit, not bent or melted but warped somehow, like a printing error that had retroactively appeared. Before she saw this thing tearing at its exterior plating with hands that seemed sharper than before, the hydraulics and cables beneath twisting and contorting and flashing like a glitch, looking to an unsettling extent like muscle fibers in the way that they pulsed. Before she saw the blood dripping from the open hatch, the spikes that had sprouted from the walls and seat like branches, the single arm that dangled from it, pierced through by several spines and swayed with every movement of the monster whose controls it once operated. It was as soon as she saw this thing fight that she knew Koira was dead. Its attacks were not for the purposes of defense or even of finishing the fight. Driven by the rampaging NHP, its only goal was to kill. She saw as it lifted up one of its long arms and slammed it down on one of the guards, crawling forward with its other three like some terrible insect as it held the guard to the ground, leaving a line of red as it ground him down to nothing. The sight hit her like a hammer, leaving her unable to move. Her arms hung limply by her sides as she stared at this thing that used to mean she was safe. 

She couldn’t react in time as it turned its flashing antennae towards her and sprinted directly towards her, impacting and gripping the frame of the Swallowtail with all four arms, the claws scraping against the metal. She fumbled at the controls as it leaned in, the antenna nearly brushing against the visual sensors, not noticing as the barrel of the Oracle LMG pressed against it. Isabel wasn’t able to close her eyes fast enough as it activated the Basilisk.

Nobody had seen the Basilisk and been able to say what it looked like, but between the crying and the loss of will to live seen in everyone who saw it, most people had a general idea of what it was. Some horrible thing from beyond what can be known that is more terrifying than anything a human can comprehend, some paracausal force of fear itself that reaches into your mind and takes it apart. That had been Union’s leading theory since the pattern group known as the Gorgon had first been identified. There were still a few unanswered questions though. Like why an omninet signal was detected every time it was activated. Why when the antennae glowed and it tore a brain to shreds, every satellite telescope, every phone camera, every sonar array, every data server and every 3d-mapping scanner across all of civilization sent out a pulse. one chunk of data each sent across blinkspace. One image, one story, one datasheet.

The Basilisk showed Isabel the universe. Each movement of the stars across the endless cosmos. The cold surface of each airless moon. Every flower that bloomed in every field across every planet. Three seconds of enlightenment. A war raged ten star systems away and she saw it. Each bullet that flew through the air in every place there was violence. Through 1,000 trillion eyes, she saw the lives of everyone that was born and lived and died. Each speck of rage or love or fear that flowed through each mind that contained a neural implant. Solar flares swirling and flashing on a planetless star hundreds of light-years away, a mesmerizing tapestry of colors that humans never bothered to name because they could not see them. It was beautiful in a way that nothing could ever match, the totality of all existence before her. She felt the tears begin to roll down her face, the chemical composition and the functions of each bacteria that swam within them flooding her mind as soon as the information of what was in each tear began to exist. Then the antennae dimmed and cooled and the enlightenment was torn away. That’s  what the Basilisk truly did-- it shows you something so wonderful that nothing else could possibly compare and then it takes it from you, leaving you hollow. Indeed, there is no crueler weapon in the universe. It leaves you feeling that the information that has left your mind, grasping at data that has left because no brain could contain it. That’s what it should have done. Unfortunately for the NHP, Isabel Ardea was not the type of person to forget anything. It was still there. All the wisdom and secrets it had shown her, and she would not let them leave. Seconds later, its reactor ruptured as the Oracle LMG tore through it. Its grip weakened and it collapsed to the floor of the hangar.

Isabel didn’t go on any missions for a while after it happened. She didn’t walk around the station gossiping as she used to. She lay in bed most days, staring at the ceiling that she now knew the exact composition of. Koira was dead, and the bed felt far too cold now. She didn’t turn to face the door even when people entered to bring her meals or inject them directly into her veins after three days of her simply leaving them to rot because she wouldn’t turn in that direction because it was where Koira wasn’t. There hadn’t been enough of her left to return home, and even if there had been, even she hadn’t remembered where that had been for her. Isabel knew now, of course. She knew the history of every molecule of the bones that had just been vaporized in the station incinerator and vented into space. It didn’t hurt, knowing all this information, but she wished it did. She wished there was some reason for her to lie there other than the one she tried not to think of. She remembered Koira in every detail. The texture of her skin, the sound of her voice, the sort of mild chemical smell that followed her around. She could piece these together in her mind, placing a sort of construct of memory beside her. She knew how Koira would have pulled her closer, and she remembered the feel of her hands. She knew exactly what she would have said to her. It’s okay. You’re still safe. I can always keep you safe. The one difference was that she didn’t feel it. It didn’t matter how well Isabel remembered how her hair smelled. A memory couldn’t be warm. It was then, staring at the ceiling with blurry eyes and feeling nothing but what wasn’t there, that she had an idea. One that hit almost as hard upon formation as the sight of the single arm dangling from the open cockpit of the cascading Gorgon. She rose, shaking slightly as she moved through the spot on the bed where Koira wasn’t, and stumbled to the door. The station’s hallways were dark and cold. There was still one guard in front of the door to the hangar. They hadn’t cleaned up the mess yet and weren’t letting anyone in. The guard walked over to her. She had known him for a while-- all his hopes and secrets and fears. “Sorry, Isabel. We’re still working on cleaning up the hangar. Can’t let you in yet.” he said. Isable stared at him for a moment. She inhaled slowly, and then spoke.

“You will die five years, three months, ten hours, eight minutes, and thirty seconds from the time I am finished speaking. You’ll be walking across this hangar, a cup of subpar coffee in your left hand. You hear the snap of the rusted scaffolding before you see it fall. It’ll be a Saladin. A large frame, belonging to a pilot named Carlos. You haven’t met him yet, but you’ll become quite close, making what happens somewhat ironic. Time seems to slow as the mech falls, landing heavily and crushing you from the waist down. A large piece of scaffolding will fall as well, carried by it. It pierces through your ribcage and you can feel it as it tears a hole through your right lung. There’s a nauseating sensation as your blood begins to fill it, and you can feel it as it rises up from your lungs and fills your throat with that sickening warmth that tastes metallic when it reaches your mouth. It hurts more than anything you’ve felt before as your bones splinter and push between the fibers of your muscles like shrike armor through a hull. You try to pull yourself out from under the frame but your hands have become slippery with your own blood. It will take exactly one minute and 17 seconds for you to die, and during that entire time you will wish it was less.”

She looked up at the guard and saw that he was crying. Before she could say anything else, he shuffled slowly past her, then sprinted away down the hallway. She laughed, softly, before opening the door and walking into the unlit hangar. Each step echoed loudly as she strode over to her Swallowtail, the front two legs still detached after being snapped off by the Gorgon’s claws. She climbed in and connected the cables to her head before sitting down against the wall of the interior compartment. “Athena, are you there?” she said weakly.

“Always.” came the reply that flowed into her mind from her NHP. 

“I have an idea. I know it will work, and I know that you’re seeing it in my brain through the interface. You know that I can make it happen, and that if it works or even if it doesn’t--” her voice was starting to tremble as she spoke. “You won’t exist anymore. I need you to agree to it. I won’t do it otherwise. Even if both my friends die in this hangar, I can’t let it be because I murdered one of them.” she could feel Athena processing the information. 

“Do it.” Isabel exhaled shakily as the words entered her mind, before pulling the cables from their ports and climbing out of her mech. She strode over to the Gorgon, muttering under her breath in a prayer to whomever it may concern, not that RA would be particularly excited about what she was doing. She rummaged around in the still-bloodstained cockpit, most of the spikes having been sawed off but a few still remaining. Trying not to think about how much it would have hurt for Koira when they pierced her, she found the interface cable and slid it into her skull. Leaning back against the side of the seat, she searched what remained of the computer for what she was looking for. There it was-- the neural data records. Everything Koira had thought since she first linked with the mech. Every pain and fear and desire. Isabel reached into the hard drive with her mind and pulled out what was left of Koira. Etching it into her brain and memorizing every one and zero. She disconnected from it, crawling from the wreck and back over to her Swallowtail. 

“Are you ready?” she said to Athena as her hand hovered above the keyboard. The screen illuminated her face in the red light of the confirmation screen. The words CYCLE NHP? Flashed in front of her eyes.

“Yes. I’m ready. Don’t worry, it won’t feel any different for me than being cycled. It won't be easy, you know. This project you’re starting. But I know you don’t care. Take care of yourself, okay? And take care of her too. Tell Koira-- tell her that without her, I’d have been a smouldering wreck on some battlefield years ago. Tell her that even though I never really got a chance to meet her outside of combat, I still missed her. Alright, that’s enough. Do it.” Isabel pressed the button, and the screen went dark as Athena’s memory was deleted. She could hear her tears hitting the keyboard. This wasn’t the first time she had cycled Athena, but as the screen displayed the message asking if she’d like to reactivate her NHP and she slowly moved the cursor and clicked “no,” she knew that this time, she wouldn’t be seeing her again. She wouldn’t get a chance to get to know Athena all over again this time. She leaned back in the harness and stared upwards for a moment, before she returned to the blank screen in front of her and began to type. 

Isabel stayed in the Swallowtail for seven days. Not sleeping, not eating. The automated systems filled her veins with the necessary water and nutrients as she typed. She filled the blank slate that now occupied the casket with her memory of Koira. Every data point she had siphoned from the gorgon, every little strength and weakness and flaw that she remembered. Every moment they had been together was poured into the empty memory of the NHP before her. Her fingers began to bleed, the skin first bruising and then breaking until eventually the bones themselves were what hit the bloodstained keys 24/7. Each keystroke sent jolts of pain shooting up through her hands and throughout her body, but she didn’t care. She wasn’t leaving until this was done. 

After 170 straight hours of typing, she had finished. The entirety of Koira’s mind now lay before her as innumerable lines of code. Her hand shook as she reached forward, entering the command to activate the NHP. with one final keystroke, the screen darkened before brightening again. She felt a voice, Koira’s voice, because she had remembered it perfectly, flow through the cables and into her brain-- “did I-- did I do good?”  Isabel wiped the tears from her face as she stared at the screen. “I can’t feel my arms, Isabel. Or my legs, it doesn’t hurt though. I feel safe. I know that you saved me. I know that you brought me back. Thank you. I didn’t want to die. I didn’t want to leave you alone. It’s okay. I’m here again. I can feel the systems of your mech. They’re a part of me now. I can keep you safe.”

It had been a year since Koira had died and Isabel had brought her back, and Isabel’s mech dashed along the edge of the battle on its four spindly legs, autoguns targeting and firing at Koira’s command. Putting her into the mech had done something to Isabel’s license, and everyone but her was surprised by what happened when they put the Swallowtail into the printer to repair it. Everyone else was a bit unsettled by it, between its somewhat animalistic appearance and the space on its back that hurt to look at and shot you three seconds before you became its target. Isabel could look at it fine, though. She could see anything she wanted to by looking into it, whether it had happened yet or not. If she didn’t have a reputation before, she definitely did now, choosing a target, deciding that she had shot them, and watching them fall all in the same moment. Opening up a comms channel with whatever enemy she had locked onto and taunting them with predictions of their deaths. She would laugh as they shouted back through the channel, demanding to know how she knew about whatever family member she hypothesized would “miss you the most once I’m done with you.” she would simply sigh as Koira excitedly counted down the seconds that they always kept their prey waiting for an answer before slowly speaking--

“By the way, I know everything.”