#(i wear glasses and i actually think i look better in them i would miss them if my eyes suddenly were perfect)

[taxinealkaloids]

my take on the agnes/gertrude/elias situationship is that gertrude seems like the most normal one to outsiders (she's less prone to arson/creepy mind reading at inopportune moments), but she is still the archivist and therefore kind of eldritch. everyone in the institute has just sort of accepted that yes, the archivist does sleep with her eyes open/is muttering incantations, and it's the least weird thing she's done this week

ok the funny thing is, technically, if by "most normal" we're going off of who is the most human, Gertrude is the normal one. but I don't believe for a second that that's how she's perceived among the rest of the archive staff lmao. like...all her assistants wind up dead, she actively works to make sure her filing system is the least effective one possible, she takes random mysterious vacations and comes back looking like she's just gone ten rounds with a tornado...I absolutely think that Gertrude has the reputation of being the eccentric on staff. I've prepared this diagram to illustrate my point:

#asks #tma #my art #thanks for your ask!! you're absolutely right that there isn't really a 'normal' one out of the three of them lol #'does your elias design have glasses or not lani' the answer to that is that he has glasses if im having trouble #drawing his face without them #my jonah has glasses 100% of the time so uh lets say he was myopic originally and his sight got better when he aligned himself with the eye #so he doesnt NEED them anymore but after wearing them for so long he kinda liked how he looked in them #and sometimes they add something to a look yknow #(i wear glasses and i actually think i look better in them i would miss them if my eyes suddenly were perfect) #so he sometimes still wears them. and if he doesnt feel like it everyone else just assumes hes got contacts in that day #ANYWAY that is irrelevant to the content of this ask. uh i think gertrude being weird and scary and never seeming to do her actual job is a #running joke among archives staff. like they make up potential crazy things gertrude could be doing right now whenever she's late or #on vacation (they could never come up with anything wilder than what she's REALLY doing)

[alastor-simp]

Alastor X Reader - Dressing Up As Him

"Hum hum hum~♫" Alastor was walking around the hotel lobby, humming a tune to himself as his eyes scanned all of the inhabitants at the hotel. Charlie and Vaggie were putting up more banners and decor in the lobby, Nifty was sweeping, and Husk and Angel Dust were at the bar. Alastor kept looking around to spot you, but he had no luck. Heading over to the bar, he leaned over the counter, smiling his signature grin. "Ah, Husker my good friend! Having a good day?" Alastor said, as he gazed at the grumpy cat, wiping a glass with a towel. "F*** off." said Husk, as he glared at Alastor, not wanting to deal with him. "Hey smiles~ Looking sexy as always." said Angel Dust, as he leaned back slightly on the bar stool, winking at Alastor. "Please refrain from flirting with me Angel.” Alastor said, extending his mic towards Angel, trying to move him away. "Ah your no fun." said Angel as he pushed Alastor's mic away from, and crossed his arms, placing them on the bar stand. "Anywho! Have any of you seen y/n? I didn't happen to see them in the lobby." Husk just shrugged his shoulders, as he didn't really know where you were, but he also answered quickly as he just wanted Alastor to leave. Angel dust was nice enough to answer as he told Alastor that he had heard you, rummaging around your room along with music playing in the background. He was gonna bother you, wondering what was happening, but he decided not to, and left you alone. "Thank you Angel! I will go find them now!” said Alastor as he walked away from the bar, missing the wave from Angel and the middle-finger from Husk.

Heading towards your room, Alastor was hoping that you were alright. Before, Alastor didn't really care much about you when he first met you as he though of you as another simpleton staying at the hotel, but after talking and hanging out with you a few times, he slowly started to care about you as he found you to be a rather sweet soul that wasn't common to see in Hell, with the exception of Charlie. Of course, he would hide that from the others as he had a reputation to uphold as being "the radio demon", so the less the people knew he had a kind heart, the better. Arriving at your door, Alastor knocked a significant beat, calling out your name, hoping for an answer. He could hear what sounded like electric swing playing in your room, but no response from you. He wanted to barge in, but he thought that would be rude so he continued to knock until you answered.

Standing in front of the mirror, you were eyeing yourself to make sure everything was set in place, and your outfit was fitted perfectly to yourself. You were wearing a striped red coat on top of a red dress shirt with a black bow tie that matched with the dress pants and black shoes, along with the outfit, you had on a red wig with a deer ear headband on top of it. Yes, you were wearing Alastors exact outfit. You really loved Alastors look, and you actually wanted to cosplay as him, but you would never tell Alastor that, as you didn't want to weird him out if he had caught you wearing his outfit, thinking you were some type of creep. You did remember that Alastor was very close to the overlord, Rosie, who owned the big emporium, so you had confided with her if she could help with your cosplay idea. Rosie was very surprised, but found your efforts cute and she actually was able to connect you with the tailor that designed a lot of Alastors clothing. It took a while, but you were able to get the whole outfit from the tailor, and you couldn't be more excited and happy to try it out. You had everything fitted to a T, but the only thing missing was the microphone, but you could think of an idea for that later. Staring at your reflection, you stretched your mouth into a wide smile, trying to match Alastor. The smile looked great, but holding that smile all day was going to be very difficult as your cheeks started to ache. Sighing, you turned away from the mirror and headed towards the radio to turn the music down. As the music died down, the thumping beat from the door, alerted your prescence: "Yes, who is it?", you called out. "Hello, Its me, darling. Are you well? I noticed you were not with the others in the lobby, so I decided to pay you a visit!” Oh No! Alastor was here, in front of your room. You couldn't bear for him to see you, wearing his outfit. "Um, I'm okay. Just tiding a bit, don't worry." You lied, as you were hoping Al would head back to the lobby. "Ah, I see! Well you wouldn't mind if I come inside, do you? I would very much like to have a nice chat.", Alastor said, as he continued to stand at the door on the other side. Oh Satan, he was not planning on leaving. Panicking, you run towards the door, unlocking it, to signify to Al it was open, before running towards your bathroom, closing the door.

Entering inside Y/N room, Al looked around your room, but didn't spot you anywhere. "Darling? Where are you?," Alastor called out, as he made his way further into your room, standing with his hands behind his back. "I'm in the bathroom, Al. Just washing up a bit. You can sit on the bed and we can chat from here." He had heard you call out. Arching his eyebrow, Alastor found it a bit strange, but he didn't question anything further, and made his way over to the bed, and sat down. As he gazed around the room, Alastor happened to spot something on the floor. As he gazed closer, he recognized it was a bow tie that was similar to his. Reaching out and picking it up, he eyed it and questioned to himself why this was in your room. "Darling?" "Yes, Al?," you said behind the door. "I found a bow tie that is similar to mine in your room. Do you know why this is here?"

Panicking, you looked down and saw that the bow tie was no longer on your shirt. "Sh**!", you whispered to yourself, as you tried to come up with another lie to tell Alastor. "M-maybe you left it here by accident." you said, mad at yourself that you stuttered. "I would happen to remember losing something like this the last time I visited you." Alastor said, as he kept eyeing the bow tie, turning it around to eye it. You stood on the other side of the door, realizing that he didn't buy it. "T-hen umm-", you froze, stuck on what to say next. Alastor noticed your change in tone, getting up from the couch and making his way towards the bathroom door. "Darling~, is there something you are not telling me perhaps?", Alastor said, smirking to himself, as he stood in front of the bathroom door. "N-no.", you said, as you heard voice more clearly now. "Then why do I sense such nervousness in your voice?", he said, as he continued to stand in front of the door, inching closer to hear you. "I-I." Stuttering, you couldn't think of another thing to say as Alastor figured out you were acting odd. "Darling~, What are you hiding? Come on out.," Al sang behind the door, as his smile got wider, enjoying the situation you were in. "OKAY! ok. I'll come out, but could you back away from the door a bit and also close your eyes please?", you said, letting Al know you were ready to come out. Al raised an eyebrow that you wanted him to close his eyes, but he said nothing, as he walk backwards, and shut his eyes.

Opening the door, you saw Alastor standing in the middle of your room, hands folded behind his back, eyes shut, and his signature grin on his face. Standing a few feet from him, you told him to open his eyes, while you cast your eyes down to the ground. Alastor opened his eyes, and he was put back for a second as he saw you dressed to the nines in what look to be his clothes. Everything you were wearing was matching him, and the only thing that was missing was his mic staff and the bow tie, that he was holding in his hand. Looking up, you noticed Al's face was stunned, but he was still smiling. "Before you say anything, just know that I'm wearing this for cosplay reasons. I'm not a freak and these were custom-made for me, they are not from your room, I swear." you blabbed all of this out, twiddling with your fingers, and looking back down towards the floor. Silence filled the room, after you were done talking. You were afraid to look back at Al, as you were expecting to see radio dials in his eyes.

"HAHAHAHAHA! My my, how dapper you look, darling!” Alastor laughed out, along with his mic that started playing a laugh track. Looking back at him, you weren't expecting a reaction like this from him. "Y-your not upset?" you questioned Al, as you continued to twiddle your fingers. "Upset? Why no, darling! Is that why you were hiding from me? Cause you figured I would be upset?" said Alastor, as he tilted his head at you. "Well, I didn't want to disturb you if you saw me wearing your outfit." "Well, I must admit I was surprised, but I am not upset. But I do have to ask, why are you dressed up like me?", he said, as he approached you, red glowing eyes staring at you, and his award winning smile on his face. Sighing, you explained to Alastor that you really enjoyed his look and outfit, so you wanted to cosplay as him. Alastor smiled softly at you, and hooked his finger under your chin, raising your head to look at him. "You are quite adorable aren't you, my dear." he said, as he then let your chin go, and began tying the bow tie back onto you, finishing it quickly and taking a step back. "There we go, dear! All set! Now we just need a smile! Come on dear, smile!" Alastor said, as he leaned closer towards your face, smiling wide. Blushing, you looked away for a second before giving Al a smile as big as his. "Perfect! I must say you make a good me!” Alastor said, as he placed his hand on your head, giving it a rub. "Thanks Al." you said, as you blushed and looked down again. "Now, since you want to be like me, we could engage in some carnage in the city! Imagine, the radio demon and his doppelgänger causing mayhem to the denizens of the Pride ring! Quite a premise!" said Alastor, extending his hand out like he was giving a performance in a play. "Um, sorry, but no thanks. I know we are in hell and all, but I'm still not use to all the violence and carnage yet." You said, as you looked at Alastor shyly. "Aw, don't be such a wet blanket , my dear." Alastor said, as he looked at you again, still smiling, but his ears were dropped down, signifying that he was a little sad. "Sorry , Alastor. Maybe we could do something else instead, like head to a cafe or go to one of Mimzy's shows?", you said. "Hmmm. Fair enough." Alastor said, as his ears perked up after he heard you say that. Hooking your arm in his, he pulled you next to him, as he raised his fingers up, ready to use his powers to teleport: "Lets go, my dear! I feel like this is going to be very entertaining!”

#hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel mimzy #hazbin hotel rosie #rosie #mimzy #hazbin mimzy #the radio demon #alastor x reader #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon x reader #hazbin hotel 2024 #fluff x reader #fluff #pride ring #happy hotel #fanfiction #radio demon #radio demon x reader

[amathslutsguidetofandom]

This is what I think living with Beefy!Bucky would look like:

THERE ARE TWO PARTS, SFW AND NSFW (please read the warnings before you start reading, and lemme know if I missed anything!)

Warnings: allusions towards sex, allusions towards unprotected sex, shower sex, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, spitting on v and Beefy!Bucky being hot (yes that's a warning). Please feel free to DM me if I missed anything :) SFW:

Bucky would walk around only in sweatpants (of your choice, obvi🤭). His muscular chest and back are on display 24/7, and he'll only wear a Henley (you bought one in every colour for his birthday) during the winter.

You would only wear either one of his T-shirts or Henleys around, with a pair of underwear and that's it.

Ya'll cook dinner together every night. Bucky bought an old record player so, he could play all the old records you got him for Christmas. And while dinner is cooking, he'll pull you to the side by your waist then slow dance with you to either Ella Fitzgerald or Frank Sinatra.

"C'mon, doll. The rice is not going to get burnt. It's jus' one dance. F'me?" He smiles, as he pulls you in by your waist. You smile at your man begrudgingly, and place your palms on his bare chest, "fine. But just one song." You say in your playfully stern voice. Bucky laughs and presses a kiss to your hairline, "anything for you, doll."

You sweep and dust, Bucky mops and vacuums.

He'll let you get any household accessory for ya'll's apartment, whether it be a trinket, a fake cactus, or a picture frame.

"Are you sure?" You ask, holding onto the snow globe with a little glass dachshund inside of it. Bucky laughs and rubs your back, "s'fine doll, I think it'll look great next to the record player," he gives in to your want to buy the snow globe. You squealed when you first saw it, and Bucky knew he had to get it immediately.

You'll be singing a song with headphones on, making some coffee in the kitchen, and just dancing wildly. And Bucky would just lean against the wall of the hallway, just staring at you lovingly.

Laundry day is actually fun, you would fold the cleaned and dried linen and clothes. While Bucky would put them back in their drawers and shelves (using his astonishingly tall height).

NSFW(alright here we go):

If you're bending over the counter to wipe a specific mark that won't go away, Bucky won't be able to hold himself back.

You bite your lip in concentration and scrub at the mark with a wet sponge, but it doesn't go away. Suddenly, you feel two large hands grab at your hips and pull you back. "Fuck me, doll. You can't do that," he growls into your ear, slowly shoving your underwear aside. You giggle and ask what does he mean. "You can't be bent over the counter and then not expect me to fuck you," he shoves his own sweatpants down. You roll your eyes, as you feel the tip of him at your entrance. "Bucky," you whine, slightly pushing your hips back in his direction. "Yes, sweetheart?" he smirks, pressing his lips against your neck. "Buck, I need you," you softly moan and throw your head back against his shoulder. "Oh I know baby, me too," he whispers in her ear.

When he comes home after a long day, and hear's you in the shower, he will not hesitate to jump in with you.

He drags himself to your shared bathroom and hears the creaky pipes of your shower being used. He smiles and walks into the bathroom. You smile when you see him, "Hey, love. How was your day?" He smiles as he starts undressing before hopping in the shower with you, "better now that I'm here with you." He kisses you passionately before pushing you up against the wall, he slightly bends and grabs the back of your thighs. "Jump" is the only word he growls against your lips. You giggle and jump slightly, and your legs are wrapped around his waist as he uses his godly strength to hold you up against the wall. You moan, as you feel him rub his tip on your sensitive button. "Bucky, baby, please," you whine as you grip onto his broad shoulders. "Oh doll, you don't have to beg me. I going to fuck you either way."

Morning sex is an everyday thing that happens at y'all's apartment. He'll either wake you up to the scene of him in between your thighs. OR. He'll wake you up with his cock inside of you. Either way, you're not complaining.

You stir at the tingly feeling between your thighs, and you open your eyes groggily to see Buck (and his beefiness) wrapping your thighs around his head. He winks and smirks at you, "mornin', doll." He licks a thick strip up your slit, and you arch your back at the sudden sensation, "ah! Bucky!" Bucky continues to swivel his tongue over your clit, knowing how much you love it. Your moans slowly get louder, as Bucky soon pokes at your hole with his thick fingers. Soon you're wailing in pleasure, and grabbing at Bucky's hair begging him to make you come. "Come f'me, princess," he says before spiting harshly on your pussy.

🎀🎀🎀

Please lemme know what you think, this is my first piece of work 😊.

If you have any feedback, feel free to DM me.

Thank you for reading lovelies!!

Stay Coquette-y,

Anya 🫶🏽🕊️🎀

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #mcu bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes au #james bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes and reader

[remuslovebot]

Wildest Dreams | BW

pairing: bale!bruce wayne x fem!reader

warnings: tooth rotting fluff, not proof read, Bruce being lovesick, established relationship. lmk if I missed anything

a/n: send me requests 🥺🥺 also lmk if you want to be on the tag list

taglist: @bumblebeesfromvenus @allysunny @junmsli

☽☽☽

Bruce Wayne had lived a difficult life. Well maybe not as difficult as one would expect. He was a rich playboy with a mansion and had a butler. But losing his parents at a young age took a tole on the man.

You were Bruce’s sunlight, guiding him away from the darkness inside him. Of course, as Batman he made Gotham a better place. But you, you made Bruce Wayne a better person.

You and Bruce had plans tonight. As his day job of being a rich philanthropist and carrying on the Wayne legacy, he must attend and host gala’s for Gotham’s elite.

Tonight was one of those Gala’s. The Williams family made a large donation to fund a homeless shelter in Gotham. This meant, a lot of the homeless population in Gotham would be properly housed instead of living on the street and resulting to crime.

Bruce was never one to like Gala’s. He thought the people whom attended them were ingenuine and cared more about their appearance instead of actually helping the city.

You tried to tell him that at least the money would help. Bruce couldn’t argue with that. You were right. Their money would help Gotham, but their attitude was atrocious.

One night, Bruce had gotten visibly jealous as he caught a man — who used to be one of this father’s close confidants — hitting on you at the open bar.

“And do you know what I said to my fellow soldiers?” The creepy old man asked.

You were not interested in the conversation. He was very clearly flirting with you and it made you uncomfortable. “No, I don’t,” you said, vaguely and uninterested.

Suddenly a warm and comforting hand wrapped around your waist. A familiar kiss pressed against your cheek. You turned and a smile graced your features. Bruce.

“Did you tell them you’re flirting with someone who is old enough to be your daughter?” Bruce said to the old man. “If you will excuse us, we have to talk to Commissioner Gordon.”

As Bruce swept you away, he pinched your side playfully. “Thank you,” you said up to his ear.

“Couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else getting close to you. Especially an old creep like him,” he said.

You liked when Bruce got possessive, although you would let him know that. You wouldn’t be able to live it down.

You were currently getting ready for tonight’s gala, standing infront of your large mirror and putting on your diamond jewelry. It was a present that Bruce had gifted you.

“You look breathtaking,” Bruce said. Think of the devil and he shall appear. He’d leaning against the wall, looking at you in the mirror. You look at him, seeing him in the glass.

“Thank you,” you say softly, a blush covering your cheeks.

Bruce is wearing a fancy suit and a navy blue tie to match the color of your dress. You fix a diamond earring and then turn around to face him. Walking, towards him.

“Your tie is crooked Mr. Wayne,” you smile, fixing his tie.

He hums in response, placing his hands delicately on your waist. “What would I do without you?” Bruce asked softly.

You smile back at him, placing a reassuring kiss on his cheek.

During the gala, Bruce pulled you to him on the dance floor. “Dance with me?” He gently asked.

You nodded in agreement and placed your hand in his. Bruce placed a hand on your waist and connected your other hand. The classical music surrounding the dance floor, enveloped you both completely.

Your head rested on his shoulder and he looked down at you with such content and happiness. “I love you,” Bruce whispered.

Bruce had never shared this information before now. He’d thought it obviously, how could he not love you — be in love with you.

You looked up at him, your beautiful eyes staring back at his. “I love you too Bruce,” you replied.

It was simple and sweet. Bruce and you deserved a quiet night in each others company.

Bruce leaned forward to kiss you. Returning the kiss you moved your arms to wrap around his neck. He pulled you close.

From across the ballroom, a photographer snapped a picture. You two looked like Gotham’s happiest couple. Bruce had found the woman of his dreams and his home.

“You’re my wildest dreams,” Bruce said softly, rubbing his nose against your own. “I’m never letting you go.”

“Good,” you smiled contently.

#bale!bruce wayne x fem!reader #bale!bruce wayne #bale!bruce wayne x reader #chrisitan bale batman #Batman #batman x fem!reader #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne #the dark night x reader #the dark knight trilogy #the dark knight #dc comics #christian bale fluff #christian bale x reader

[scatterbrainedbot]

I AM SPINNING I AM PACING I AM FULL ON FROLICKING IM SO EXCITED

@d1sc0rd1a THANK U FOR THESE TAGS

okayokayokayokay so pretty much all of these questions will be Officially Answered properly in the character design/intro pages im working on but also i am physically vibrating with excitement about the fact that you noticed all these details and i have very little self control so! lore dump time!!!

(minor tw for mentions of leos self-harm/self-destructive anxious behaviors and unhealthy coping skills)

- mikey does indeed have curly fur! i believe he would be considered a 'rex' rat (pictured on the left) for this trait? though the curls can be more easily seen on mice (pictured on the right). or, at least it seems that way. have not delved too deeply into the details of rodent genes and husbandry, but id assume its the same sort of mutation considering curly haired mice are also referred to as rex sometimes? either way hes a extra floofy bby 🧡

-as for raphie, unfortunately being more fluff and less shell than the average rapheal comes with its downsides. especially if you and your brothers occasionally encounter things like territorial dogs, hungry cats, or sewer crocodiles while exploring places ur dad said not supposed to go. (most of his scars will have more ninja related stories, but his ear i think got messed up from something very animal. probably around age 11 ish? old enough to sneak out from dads protection but young enough to not fully know how to handle himself alone against real danger. thankfully his ear injury looks worse than it actually is for the most part, as the damage was largely to the outer ear. his hearing wasnt super affected, except that he now has a bit of a harder time being able to track/pinpoint noises origins if its on his right side.)

-also yep! dons got some glasses that just clip/rest on the bridge of his nose! theyre mostly just for home use, as they do fall off if hes knocked around. in the field he has some goggles he tends to use (theyre helpful as they have multiple additional functions like heat-imaging, extra zoom/telescoping, and recording capabilities. but also theyll give him headaches if he wears them for too long without breaks). contacts are theoretically also an option but he absolutely hates the sensation of putting them in. so sometimes when hes tired he'll just not bother with either clips or goggles and just squint and struggle. leo hates when he does that lol.

-speaking of leo, he is def an anxious baby :) he has a few patches of fur missing on his hand cos he has the tendency to tug on it while hes thinking. he yanked and chewed on his own tail a lot when he was younger too, which is why when hes older he usually wears some wraps to cover the scars left from that behavior. he finds those scars specifically to be kinda embarrassing and shameful because they werent from any battle or life-lesson, just his own 'inability to control himself'. all of his brothers have repeatedly called him out on the fact that that is not a healthy way to think about his anxiety or mental health, but leo insists hes fine. hes kinda convinced himself that a proper warrior always has control over his own body* and his own thoughts, thus he should be able to just like willpower-brute-force his way into 'being better'. (this line of thinking pisses raph off so much he has to leave and go hit something)

Splinter also tries to talk him through some of that internalized guilt/shame/everything, but splinters very metaphorical, poetic, and indirect when it comes to talking about Big Things, which combined with how much leo gets caught in his own head, makes it kinda hard to gauge how much these talks actually help

*this is made extra fun considering leos also ftm trans, so he is faced with a body that fundamentally disobeys him perhaps more than the average rat-man.

-and im still going back and forth between a few species for splinter, but im leaning mostly towards an African Spurred Tortoise! they have these beautiful if kinda subtle geometric shell patterns and are the third largest species of tortoise in the world. the only thing that doesnt fit perfectly with Splints is that (allegedly) their lifespan in captivity is around 50ish years, whereas im p sure Tortoise Splinter is well over 75, probably closer to 90 when the boys are born and hes mutated into Old Man Papa.

but maybe hes just a particularly long lasting African Spurred Tortoise.

the Hamato family has taken very good care of him for many decades after all. :)

(well. until everything all fell apart, that is.....)

#tmnt #rat sons #my art #tmnt au #literally bouncing around the room thinking about this all #my downstairs neighbors are gonna hate me #ask reply #sort of??? #pats leos fucked up lil head #this bad boy can fit so much projection #get out of ur head idiot ur family loves and wants to help u #also looking at the chaco tortoise and ploughshare tortoise for splinter thoboth of those are smaller species than i think he is

[slexenskee]

Detour (MDNSY Oneshot)

For an ask about the reactions of the JJK cast on MDNSY Gojo's... everything 😂

Scrubstan22 finds himself in the (un)enviable position of explaining Ru-kun to the JJK cast

(Link here: or read below)

Nanabi Shun, better known by his online handle ‘Scrubstan22’ is having his most surreal day yet. An unhinged mad scientist turned villain with a space-time quirk and an obsession with Ru-kun that borders on the same level as even the most delusional of Scrubs, has accidentally flung him, an innocent bystander, into an alternate dimension. 

This would be terrifying, if it wasn’t apparently some kind of alternate dimension where Ru-kun’s anime is real. 

And not only is it real… it’s apparently Ru-kun’s true origin story?? 

To be fair, it’s still terrifying, but Scrubstan22 has more pressing matters to focus on than his own mortality and possible impending doom. 

Gojo Satoru apparently exists in this world— but Ru-kun does not. 

It’s utterly absurd! It’s unreasonable and unfair! Maybe those songs really do already exist in this world— as the very unamused talking Panda keeps trying to tell him— but if No Scrubs and Ru-kun aren’t performing it, then they don’t actually exist at all! Nanabi couldn’t possibly put into words how life-changing it was to see Ru-kun perform in person. The fact that he doesn’t exist in this world— or at least not as the shit-posting global celebrity rockstar that Nanabi knows him as— is really quite sad. These poor kids don’t know what they’re missing out on. As a major Scrub and Ru-kun simp, Nanabi just can’t let this slide. He has to rectify it immediately. 

Luckily he has a perfect solution.

His entire downloaded archive of all things No Scrubs and Ru-kun.

Some of Gojo Satoru’s students are more impressed than others. 

“I hate that he looks so good in that skirt,” comes from the glasses-wearing girl. Maki, he thinks is her name. He only watched through the anime once so he’s pretty bad with the names of all the side characters.  

“I should have known he’d make an excellent Sailor Moon after he stole my uniform.” Kugisaki Nobara complains, looking exactly as her character does in the anime. 

Neither of them are enthused to see Ru-kun in his crossdressing glory, but Nanabi notices they’re unwillingly enthralled nonetheless. 

Itadori Yuuji himself— the main character of Cursed Fight Season One— is unsurprisingly the most enthusiastic about it all. He nearly climbs over Nanabi for a better look at the recording on his phone, eyes alight. 

“Sensei is so cool as a rockstar! It really suits him well!” Itadori exclaims, delighted. “And he’s singing ‘My Chemical Romance’? Sensei has such good taste!”

“He’s just an emo-punk loser who clearly had way too much time on his hands,” Fushiguro Megumi protests, although despite his inflammatory remarks he too doesn’t look away from the screen. 

Apparently quite a few No Scrubs’ songs are from this band ‘My Chemical Romance’. Yuuji even shows him the music video of the same song from the actual band just to prove it, although that was wholly unnecessary. Nanabi believes him when he says all these songs already exist in this world and belong to other bands— he just doesn’t care. If anything, seeing the other bands perform it just confirms what he already believed; Ru-kun does it better. 

Nanabi is happy to show them all the fan recordings he has of No Scrubs, gushing over the various outfit choices and the songs themselves. It’s actually kind of nice that these songs exist already, because that means these kids already know them and he can argue about which are superior without having to explain. Itadori’s favorite is ‘A Loaded God Complex’, called ‘Sugar We’re Goin’ Down’ in this world (although Itadori admits the changed title suits Ru-kun far more), Fushiguro’s is ‘Island in the Sun’, and Panda translates that Inumaki’s is ‘Thanks for the Memories’, but Panda himself confesses he’s unfamiliar with this genre of music. The two girls decry all their picks as boring, and don’t seem particularly impressed by any of Ru-kun’s songs until—

“Paramore!!” The two girls screech in unison, suddenly looking a lot more invested than they had earlier. 

Nanabi has up a recording from the Scrubs Unite tour, which Ru-kun had done entirely in drag. They’d finally gotten to the encore, where Ru-kun had tried to weasel his female bandmates into singing the encore song, insisting it was made for a female vocalist. They summarily denied him, so he ended up singing the song himself, called Misery Business. It’s one of Nanbi’s favorite performances, and one Ru-kun hasn’t done since. 

Even Maki and Kugisaki are begrudgingly impressed. 

“He sounds like a male Hayley Williams— that’s so fucking unfair,” Kugisaki denounces, despairing. “Why does that bastard have to be good at everything, seriously.” 

“The outfit is pretty spot on too, if he just dyed his hair, it’d be a great cosplay.” Maki agrees, sourly. 

“Does he play anything else from Riot?” Kugsaki rounds on him. “What about That’s What You Get?”

Nanabi looks up at her helplessly. “Sorry, I don’t think so. But they apparently have a ton of unreleased stuff though, so maybe I just haven’t heard it.”

Apparently back when No Scrubs was truly an underground band playing random shows at dive bars, they had an insanely large setlist. Most of those songs never made it onto any of the official recordings. He’s heard rumors online that there’s a vinyl floating around, but aside from a single interview with All Might, has no real confirmation of its existence. 

“I think it’s awesome that Sensei has an alternate personality as a rockstar,” Yuuji enthuses, looking rather fond and indulgent as he stares down at Ru-kun strutting across a stage. “I hope it’s more relaxing than being The Strongest all the time.”

Nanabi blinks at him. “Oh. He’s that too.” 

The Jujutsu Tech students stare at him blankly. “... What?” 

//

As it turns out, they’re all collectively more confused and bewildered by the whole Sixwings thing than they are the ‘world’s strongest’ thing. In this world, since the moment of his birth Gojo Satoru was always meant to be the strongest. That he can destroy armies in the blink of an eye and pull out purple-laser-death-beams-of-doom (apparently a technique called Hollow Purple in this world) and walk through explosions unscathed is just common knowledge among the Jujutsu World. 

So all of his footage of Dabi’s many international exploits was met with a genial disinterest. 

His media folder of Sixwings, however…

“He’s… really in a relationship?” Kugisaki looks utterly confounded. “A normal, healthy, longterm relationship?”

“He’s getting married?” Maki sounds bewildered.

“He has a kid?” Fushiguro sounds unimpressed. 

Panda scratches his chin. “Huh. Hey, that’s good for him! He sounds like he’s actually a well-adjusted and normal guy.” 

“Is his boyfriend a psychopath?” Kugisaki asks, urgently. “I really can’t see how else this would work out.”

“Not at all! Hawks is well-known as a very charming and friendly hero. He’s actually a really good guy.” Nanabi protests. 

Kugisaki squints at him. “How the hell does he put up with him then?”

Nanabi smiles sheepishly. “Uh… he’s pretty easygoing I guess?” 

Maki is leaning over him for a better look at his phone, using her fingers to zoom in on the photo he has up of Hawks and Ru-kun at the U.A. School Festival. He doesn’t swing that way, but even he has to admit they looked really good that day. And with Eri thrown in on top of it? It’s no wonder they’re regularly voted as the cutest couple in Japan.

“Damn. They actually look really good together.” Maki says, begrudging. 

“Tuna, tuna.” Inumaki pokes Panda in the side.

Panda gives a solemn nod. “Inumaki-kun has a good point. What’s all this gossip about a Sixwings baby?”

“Oh, that’s Eri-chan.” Nanabi scrolls down to a better photo of her. There’s one from the Ru-kun signing event at Tower Records, where a sinfully good-looking Ru-kun is holding her on his hip and waving out to the crowds. “She’s the child he birthed from his own body.”

Fushiguro blinks rapidly. “He what now?”

“He’s fucking with you.” Kugisaki denies immediately. 

Nanabi shrugs. “Maybe— but no one knows for sure! To be honest, none of his powers make much sense to us, so some people believe it and others don’t.”

Maki’s expression turns worried. “Well, they’re not all that clear to us either… I mean, there’s a lot you can do with cursed energy…”

She glances up at Panda. Panda just gives her a thumbs up. “That’s right! I mean, I exist, so who knows!”

“There’s a couple different rumors about it, but none are confirmed.” Nanabi fills them in with a gleeful expression. “The main one is that she really is the Sixwings baby, and they had her when they were teenagers and kept it a secret. There’s also a couple variations where Eri is his child, but the regular way, but he’s slept with a lot of people and none of them were women so people are pretty skeptical about it. Then there’s also the theory that he did birth her from his own body, but not with Hawks. There’s no real guesses on who her father is for that one.”

His companions look at him with varying degrees of incredulity. Nanabi spreads his hands. “The likely answer is he’s just messing with everyone and she’s adopted, but like I said, we really don’t know!”

Itadori doesn’t really seem to care about the truth either way, grabbing at his phone to scroll through the photos. “They’re so cute together! Haha, she really kind of even does look like sensei a little bit! She’s definitely just as stylish as he is!”

Itadori keeps scrolling until he gets to the infamous Swing incident, saved in all its glory in an endless gif format. 

They all stare in silence as, on screen, Gojo Satoru gets KO’d by his kid on a swing set over and over again. 

“Send me that.” Kugisaki demands. 

//

Scrubstan22 gets rescued eventually. It’s a pretty boring affair, truth be told. He didn’t see any real curses, or any kind of fighting. 

Gojo doesn’t return to campus until long after the sun has set, to the bizarre scene of all his students shoving their phones at poor Nanami, who looks as if he regretted ever coming in person to turn in his paperwork. They’re apparently trying to show Nanami photos of Gojo in drag, despite his vocal protests. The moment they lay eyes on him they pounce on him instead. None of their explanations make any sense. There’s something about him being a rockstar, and also married, and apparently a mother, and they have plenty of blurry photo evidence they try to shove at him. It looks like they all took photos of someone else’s screenshots, so the quality leaves much to be desired. Maybe if he squints really hard, that does kind of look like him in a mini skirt, but who’s to say really? 

Unfortunately for the students, the space-time continuum rights itself overnight and they all lose their collective memory of Scrubstan22 and his alternate-universe. But the digital evidence remains, and occasionally Kugisaki will pull out her phone and watch a very random gif of Gojo-sensei getting smacked to the ground by a kid on a swing, and while she has no idea where it came from, she draws immense satisfaction from it anyway. 

#mdnsy oneshots #fic may death never stop you

[jamespotterismydaddy]

Lord Husband (Chapter 8)

cregan x reader

A/N: omg another update so soon? who would've thought i could do it

series masterlist

word count: 1,832 words

You’ve never looked so beautiful in your life. You know that to be a fact as you stare at your reflection in the looking glass. You made all the handmaidens leave as soon as you were readied, wanting to spend your last few moments as an unmarried woman in solitude. Now, you aren’t sure if the solitude is something you can even appreciate. You’ve waited all day for your mother to arrive, thinking she would want to spare some comforting words but now you’re starting to wonder if you’ll even see her before you become Cregan’s… before you’re no longer her’s. It’s disheartening to think about how desperately you wish that you could revert back to your childhood. It’s almost all you can think about, swimming in the sea with Jace and Luke, playing dolls with Baela and Rhaena, resting your head in your mother’s lap as he fingers run through your hair, Daemon’s voice whispering a story about Valyrian dragonlords in the background. They’re such fond memories but you hate it when they fill your head because you’ll never feel that way again.

“You’re a vision.” You didn’t hear him come in. You didn’t even hear him knock. Did he knock?

“Thank you, kepa.” father. Sometimes it feels strange to call him that. Especially when you know you used to call Laenor the same thing.

Daemon walks over to you. “You will do well here.” He says as his hand grasps your chin gently but he is still forcing you to look in his eyes.

“Will I?” You ask just as gently as he touches. “Is that how you felt about Runestone? Is this what you wanted for me?” His grip tightens.

“My clever girl.” He says thoughtfully. “Clever enough to know it’s different. This marriage is necessary.”

“At least it isn’t one of your daughters being sold to the North, right?”

“You are my daughter. You also know that Baela and Rhaena help your brothers through marriage.” It’s left unsaid but it’s in the air. 

Baela and Rhaena make my bastard brothers look more legitimate. 

“And I suppose I don’t need such help?”

He sighs. Of course you don’t, is what he’s thinking. You have a claim to nothing. You inherit nothing. You’re just a girl.

“Can you believe me when I say that Cregan Stark is the best match for you? Your mother and I didn’t have you betrothed on a whim. We would not be so careless about your future.”

Your mother said nearly the same thing and you think you could open your mouth to agree with him but Rhaenyra arrives at the door. 

“Mother.” You hate how you breathe out the word in relief.

There’s tears in her eyes. “My perfect girl.”

You notice the dripping ruby earrings in her hands.

“For me?”

“Of course. They were your grandmother’s.” She comments as she walks over, taking your own earrings out gently before putting in the rubies. They’re more simple than what you have on but clearly the better choice. “She wore them on her wedding day.”

“Did you wear them on your’s?”

“No… I didn’t.” The fact seems to hurt her. “She would be happy to know that you’re wearing them.”

“Thank you.” Is all you can seem to say. Even Daemon senses the tension in the dynamic.

“They’ll be ready for us soon. You ought to make way so you don’t miss the ceremony, Rhae.” Your stepfather says and your mother seems to agree.

She grabs your hands, giving them a fleeting kiss before she’s out the door.

You think you dissociate for the next ten minutes. Actually, you know you do because there can’t be another explanation for how you’ve come to be at the edge of the Godswood. Your breath freezes up in front of you. It’s snowing; you wonder if that’s a good thing. Brides often dread rain on their wedding days. Should you dread the snow? You can’t imagine doing such a thing when it’s this beautiful. The little flakes drape themselves on your eyelashes, across your hair. They melt into your warm cheeks. You wonder if it makes you look prettier because as your eyes follow their way up the aisle to Cregan, you think they make him look prettier. He’s shrouded in a fur cloak. Tiny snowflakes decorate it and his hair. He’s the embodiment of a northernman. 

You’re clinging to Daemon as you’re brought up the aisle, clutching his arm like he’s a piece of driftwood that might save you from drowning. Perhaps it’s more like a child clinging to her mother’s skirts, about to be ripped away by slavers. There’s so many unfamiliar faces in the audience, so many people who will be your subjects in a sense. You’re cold as you reach the front, almost shivering.

“Who comes before the Old Gods this night?” You don’t recognize the man who stands at the front. He must be some sort of relative to your betrothed.

Daemon speaks for you, saying your name, “of House Velaryon, comes here to be wed. A woman grown and flowered, trueborn and noble. She comes to beg the blessing of the Gods. Who comes to claim her?” You wish at the very least that you could say the words yourself but of course, that would be silly to think.

“Cregan, of House Stark, Lord of Winterfell. Who gives her?” His voice is firm and steady. You know he’s looking right in your eyes as you look over his shoulder to avoid eye-contact.

“Daemon, of House Targaryen, husband to her mother.”

“Princess, will you take this man?” The officiator speaks again.

Now you look in Cregan’s eyes. You can see the pleading in them. It’s so hidden and almost overshadowed by his clear pride but it’s there, no matter how much he doesn’t want it to be. You don’t know if he pleads for you to not embarrass him or if he pleads for you to want him. It’s of no consequence. 

“I take this man.” Now is it relief in his eyes or pity?

He takes your smaller and much colder hand in his, sending a flush of warmth through you before you both kneel in front of the heart tree. Everything is silent for the prayers that are meant to be between you and the Old Gods. You suppose you should say something to the gods that you now claim but you can’t think of a single thing.

You and your husband rise now and he removes your Velaryon cloak to place one of House Stark over your shoulders. He cringes at the way you practically wince. You already miss the loss of colour. He then takes your arm, people clap and you’re led to the feast.

“You’re colder than ice.” He murmurs, taking your freezing hands in his to try and warm them.

This is the first thing he says to you?

“Is the snow a bad omen?” It’s the only thing you can think about right now. You can’t get the idea of it out of your head.

He didn’t seem to think you were going to say that. “I would not have thought that you cared much for northern omens.”

You’re just silent in response.

“It’s good luck.” He says. The answer doesn’t necessarily please you. “You look wonderful today, wife.”

Wife.

“I don’t think i’ve seen a woman so beautiful in my whole life.” You gaze up at him as he says it and he’s just staring straight ahead. It’s like he’s stating just pure facts and not an opinion.

“You look… very nice as well.” You reply, hating how his comment made you blush.

He takes you to the main table in the hall, holding out your chair for you like a proper gentleman. All the other guests file in. You’re more than glad that you don’t have to talk to them until after the feast. Though, you’re not sure if you’ll be able to down a single bite, finding more comfort in your wine goblet instead.

The Queen stands and raises her glass. “To Lord Stark and his beautiful wife, my lovely daughter.” All the northerners cheer. You notice how well your brothers and stepfather seem to enjoy the rowdy bunch. You, on the other hand, are trying to keep the bile down.

Cregan places a hand on your upper back, rubbing gently. “Perhaps some food to go with your drink?” His eyes have no judgement in them, only worry. He noticed right away that you’re eating like a mouse.

“If I want food, then i’ll eat.” You snap at him slightly and he just sighs. The wine is starting to go to your head more and more. 

“I know. I know you can take care of yourself. I just take my duty as your husband seriously.” You hate the tenderness behind his words. It’s hard to be cruel to a man so kind. So, you say nothing.

The feast comes to a natural end and clearly people want to dance and celebrate so you don’t protest when Cregan takes your hand.

You feel like a fairy, floating on air as you dance. Your head is empty and your body is light as your husband lifts and twirls you. You look so peaceful to him at the moment, calm and angelic. He wonders if he should have been more firm about discontinuing your wine consumption but he’s also so pleased about how content you look.

You dance the whole evening away, exhausting yourself as you take the hand of almost every man who asks. You don’t even feel real. It’s like you’re above the clouds when you move.

It’s Daemon who halts the fun. After you dance with him, he brings you back to the table. “Are you trying to drink yourself into the ground, sweetling?”

“Yes.” You say bluntly.

“Hmm.” He sighs. He understands why you behave this way. “Understandable, but I won’t see you with another goblet for the rest of the night.”

You have to hold in your eye roll but you still obey.

You slowly start to sober up over the next hour and it’s sickening. Your melancholy seems to grow as the alcohol leaves your system and your heart drops when someone calls for the bedding. You hope it’s nothing like a southern bedding ceremony even if you doubt that your mother would allow such a barbaric tradition to befall her daughter.

Cregan makes his way through the crowd to you. He speaks once he is by your side, “There is this tradition in the North, as a symbol of protection and strength, the groom will often carry his bride to bed on their wedding night. Will you allow me to carry you?”

“I would not deprive you of tradition.” You try to keep your words from slurring.

Everyone is watching as your husband takes you in his arms. There’s no goodbyes as you’re whisked away for your wedding night.

taglists (comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi @ravenclawprincess33

Lord husband: @feyres-fireheart @possiblyafangirl @hb8301 @marihoneywk @youn-jo @velvet-spider @janelongxox @ninastyless @nyctophilic0vitnir @m-a-s-h-k-a @delicious-xx @weepingfashionwritingplaid @happinessinthebeing @betelrus @joliettes @black-swan-blog27 @mxtokko @valeridarkness @karolalolla @satan-s-ass @synindoodles @a-beaverhausen @petertingle3000 @lunnnix @hermaeusmorax @cupcakesminicakescupcakes @purplegardenwhispers

#cregan stark #cregan #cregan stark fic #cregan x reader #cregan stark x reader #hotd fic #house of the dragon #hotd #lord husband

[restinslices]

Could you do the Earthrealm champions being invited by GN!reader to dance with them in a video?

If you need song ideas for this request, I got you covered:

Bet y’all ain’t know I like K-pop. Expect the unexpected. My internet is being dumb asf and I cannot add gifs so you’re getting dumb pictures I found on Pinterest

Johnny Cage

“I’m a star sweetheart, I don’t have time for silly videos”

*Proceeds to dance with passion*

Johnny cannot take shit seriously so if you think he’d be too proud to do a little dance for a video, you’re smoking 

He probably wears something way over the top for the video as if he’s actually performing for a crowd 

I don’t think Johnny is a natural dancer but he makes do. He probably practices to make sure he doesn’t look stupid and you’ll have to record the video multiple times until he’s satisfied 

“I don’t like that one or that one or that one or-” “I’m gonna find a new partner. Oh my gosh”

Honestly I think he has more fun than you

“I think I should add ‘dancer’ to my lists of talents”

He probably asks to do it again

Idk if I see Johnny being into K-pop but the interest would start here and spiral 

I also feel like he enjoys dances from girl groups more than boy groups. I once again don’t know why I think this way but it makes sense in my head 

Likes more simple dances. It keeps the focus on his pretty face and outfits 

“I think I’d be fantastic in a girl group” “Ok Johnny”

It’s giving “nurse! He’s out again!”

He has a new hyperfixation now. I hope you’re proud of yourself 

Favorite thing to dance to is Cupid by Fifty Fifty 

Kenshi Takahashi 

Only does it because you asked him to, and even then he doesn’t really want to 

He doesn’t hate dancing but he just doesn’t do it 

Considering he escaped from the Yakuza, him being in a video with you isn’t the best idea. You can call him paranoid. He calls himself careful. 

When he finally agrees, he's wearing the most obnoxious get up; hoodie, sweatpants, a hat, glasses, a mask and gloves. It's so no one can know who he is, but who in the Yakuza is randomly watching dance videos?

He won't change his mind though and wears it all.

You have to do an easy dance otherwise he'll sweat himself to death 

I don't see him going out of his way to do it again. It was alright to him. He's not big on dancing so learning a dance then doing it wasn't the best way to spend his time. Also he was extremely sweaty so he's not tryna do it again 

He will if you ask, but he won't bring it up first 

He's trying to not be noticed but people can't help but notice him 

I feel like he favors boy groups only slightly. Favorite thing to dance to is Still 24K by 24K but only the chorus because once again, sweat and heat. And YES I picked 24K because I'm never letting their name die. I miss them 

Kung Lao

“I have better things to do, like training new recruits at the Academy” “If you're too scared of me dancing better than you, just say that”

He learns the dance that night 

He's competitive so what's supposed to be a sweet couples thing, turns serious 

Wants to do a hard dance just to prove how great he is even if it's stupid 

Legit is angrily typing “hard kpop dances” and picking one at random 

He has you ask the audience to comment who danced better or do a poll

If he wins, he's ecstatic and wants to continue showing off. If he loses, he's bitter. The vote was rigged. Real “Stop the count!” type shit 

If he loses he wants to do it again so he can do better. He legit can't let it go. The problem is he keeps diving into hard ass dances and refuses to start simple 

You have to pry his hands off the keyboard and help him pick something simple 

Once he stops being stubborn then you two can actually have fun. Dancing can become a regular thing, but he's gonna keep making it a challenge 

In his eyes, he always wins 

Idk if he has a preference for boy or girl groups. I'll say his favorite thing to dance to is Monster by Exo because I feel like he'd want to do Chanyeol's jump 

Raiden

I think he'd be shy at first. Super Shy if you will 

He doesn't wanna fuck it up, yk? After being told it's not that deep and it's just for fun, he agrees 

Besides Johnny, he's probably having the most fun. I feel like he enjoys spending time with the people he cares about and this is doing just that 

Wants to do it again because it's spending time with you and it makes you happy 

Before I even end this, he's a girl group stan and I'm standing on it

Idk why but I think he'd like 4Minute and I'm not changing my mind. He'd be bummed they're not together anymore 

Honestly, his favorite groups have probably all disbanded or are on hiatus. He's not having a good time 

“I like 4Minute” “disbanded” “2NE1?” “disbanded” “Miss A?” “disbanded” “CLC?” “I don't think they're disbanded but they're doing their own thing” “I hate my life”

I just feel like he'd have bad luck 

Dancing becomes a new hobby though. He can't always be getting rid of threats. 

Mainly does it with you 

His favorite thing to dance to is Whatcha Doin’ Today by 4Minute. Honestly I can see that being his favorite song which is a real shame cause I think his favorite would be Jihyun and she got like, one line (I'm projecting)

Liu Kang 

Big problem with your plan. He has glowing eyes and shades hardly dull them. How's he gonna hide that? 

With TWO pairs of shades of course 

I think he'd be reluctant to make the video because his existence isn't supposed to be known by random people 

He'd be willing to dance with you alone, he's just not sure about the video and he won't be sure until you come up with a good idea that'll get rid of that problem 

You can post it on your close friends though. They make sense 

I feel like he'd like dancing to some random ass unknown group from the 80s or 90s. Who even are these people?

He did watch as civilization grew so he's seen tons of groups form and disband so I guess it's not surprising he knows smaller groups. 

Idk if he'd have a preference for boy groups or girl groups. If it's good music, it's good music 

I don't think it'd become a new hobby for him. He's not reluctant about it like Kenshi, it just doesn't interest him as much as you'd like 

He makes it known he's doing this for you. Not in an asshole way, but in a “I really like when you're happy” type of way 

I'm NOT looking up old ass groups just for this so imma say his favorite thing to dance to is Kard in general. Why? Idk. I’m spreading an agenda

I wanna write more MK1 intros but I’m brain empty. I’m miserable This was also short. My bad anon. Everyone has around 230 words

#mk1 #mk1 2023 #mortal kombat 1 #mk1 x reader #johnny cage #johnny cage mk1 #johnny cage x reader #kenshi takahashi #kenshi takahashi mk1 #kenshi takashi x reader #kung lao mk1 #kung lao #kung lao x reader #raiden #raiden mk1 #raiden x reader #raiden mortal kombat #liu kang #liu kang mk1 #liu kang x reader #liu Kang mk1

[extrashotodepresso]

Hawks X Fem!Reader:

Blurred Lines

Warnings: SMUT DNI if not 18+ , somnophilia if you squint, unprotected (please don’t do this guys), some red flags here (but when you’re wearing rose colored glasses red flags look like flags)

As always, comments and reblogs welcome. If you don’t have anything nice to say- say it to the wall. Not my wall, the one in your room. Go to the corner and think about what you want to say to a stranger on the internet and what’s driving you to take out your ick on them.

Alright so I really wanted to write Hawks as not a dirtbag but just as like the cute lovable weirdo he is. Honestly… I struggled with this. I really just wanted to get this one finished and I just did what I could but if I can be honest- I struggled part way through and I’ll probably edit this eventually. It eeees what it eees.

Summary: Reader is neighbors with Hawks. They start a friendship that leads to more over time until they cross that final line. That’s it. That’s the fic.

The first time Keigo landed in your apartment, it was an accident. Actually, that’s how you found out you were neighbors with the number two hero. You wouldn’t have expected it; with his ranking, he was bound to have a fancy upper side Mustafu apartment, why was he renting in your shitty little neighborhood?

But questions you had at the sudden encounter would have to wait; he had rolled in from your open patio window missing feathers, covered in grime and blood. You had been cooking dinner at the time, and all you could do was stare dumbly at the man on your floor, tongs raised in your hand casually.

“Uh… you okay?” You asked, cringing immediately at how stupid you sounded. Thankfully, you heard a laugh before his arm slithered out from beneath him and he pushed himself halfway off the floor. He looked around your apartment for a moment, seemingly puzzled before his eyes landed on you.

“Just peachy, thanks for asking.” He groaned as he brought himself up to stand, feathers falling out of his wings and littering your floor among the rest of the debris. “Uh…” he stepped up and down carefully, his boots crunching in the grime. “Sorry about the mess.”

You shrugged. “Happens. Do you… um do you need any help or…?”

“Nah, I’m good.” The two of you stared at each other, neither really knowing what to say, the popping of fried chicken sizzling away in a pan being the only sound for a few moments.

“I think I live next door.” He said, looking around, the slight flush on his cheeks darkened as he reached for the back of his neck. Bad move, he immediately winced. “30C.” You nodded slowly, then returned to your chicken.

“It would appear you do.” You flipped the pieces in the pan, frowning a little at the bits that had burned while you were distracted by the hero hurdling into your living room. “28C.”

“Hawks.” He offered, gesturing to himself and seeming to wince afterwards at the obvious introduction.

“(Y/N).” You turned as you introduced yourself, moving the cooked chicken into a serving bowl and finally turning back around to face him when you were done.

“You don’t seem all that bothered, (Y/N).” His voice was light and pleasant and despite the strangeness of this encounter, you couldn’t help but feel comfortable in his presence. Must be a hero thing, you figured.

“Of all the crazy things in this city that could have crash landed in my apartment, a top hero is probably one of the better options.” You smiled wryly and he offered a sharp laugh.

“Fair enough.” He studied you for a moment. “I uh… I should get going then. Do you need any help cleaning up or…” you glanced at your floor, considering the state of him, it was pretty minimal.

“I can handle it, it’s fine. Seems like you had a rough day.” You offered a short sort of smile at this. He put his hands in his pockets, then after another awkward moment, walked towards your door. “You can come back for dinner if you want.” You offered as his hand closed on the doorknob. You didn’t know why you had offered, this was probably already the weirdest day of your life but something in you forced the words out before you could stop them. His face lit up, and you felt your heart thud thickly in your chest.

“That would be awesome! I’ll be honest, it smells amazing- just uh- give me a bit to freshen up, okay?” You nodded and he practically ran out of your apartment, before poking his head back in. “Don’t clean that up- I’ll get it, it’s the least I can do.” He pointed at the mess on the floor and you nodded before you heard him hastily enter his own apartment.

“Welcome to the neighborhood.” You muttered to yourself before setting up another serving of chicken to cook.

When he came back, he cleaned up the mess on your floor and even set the table while you finished cooking. It was strangely domestic of him. Your brain was still working to process the information of the past half hour. The nation’s number two hero had crash-landed into your living room and now the two of you would be having dinner. You chucked to yourself as you finished cooking and brought the food to the table. Weirder things had probably happened before, though you couldn’t imagine what.

“Thanks again for your hospitality.” Hawks offered with a stunning smile. You had been moving to sit down across from him, and your entire body froze for a second at the brightness of his expression.

“N-no problem.” You offered, lamely. As the two of you began eating, he seemed like he wanted to talk more, but your own shyness and hesitance to conversation made it difficult not to stagnate. You felt the sweat on the nape of your neck. Leave it to you to be unfazed by the bizarre yet challenged by the basics of conversation.

As he took a bite of chicken, his eyes grew wide.

“This is so good, (Y/N)!” He exclaimed. You thanked him, then couldn’t hold back the snicker that had been threatening to escape you. “What’s so funny?” He said, words partially muffled as his mouth was stuffed full of chicken.

“Bird hero, eating chicken.” You managed to explain. “Just… made me laugh.” He stared at you before bursting into laughter himself.

“Despite the bad PR it might get me, I’ll admit, it’s one of my guilty pleasures.” You smiled, glad you hadn’t offended him as you took a swig of your beer.

Conversation flew by a little easier after that. It seemed like Hawks was just as down to earth as his reputation would reflect. You learned that he had been your neighbor for about a month, but because of the nature of his work, you wouldn’t have really seen him around. Besides, he really only ever entered his apartment through his patio. That’s why he had landed into your living room; normally his door was the only one left open. You asked him why he didn’t live in some fancy huge building since he could clearly afford it and he shrugged, explaining that he wanted to be closer to the neighborhoods he actually served.

He asked you about your work, you explained that you worked from home; data entry, nothing nearly as exciting as his job. He politely nodded as you explained your work, he was even kind enough to ask questions and act like it wasn’t entirely boring. The two of you talked for a while about a myriad of things; favorite movies, heroes, books, restaurants- it seemed like you both actually had a lot of common ground. It was nice, you usually lived a pretty secluded life, having someone to talk to was more than pleasant.

After dinner, the two of you parted as unlikely friends and his visits over to your apartment became relatively frequent. He would stop by after patrols without any sort of announcement, and while the average person would be annoyed, you really didn’t mind except for that one time he barged in and you had just gotten out of the shower. Months like this passed, and you and Keigo made a habit of spending practically every night he wasn’t working together.

It was on one of these evenings that he came over and the conversational tone shifted.

“Why don’t you ever have any guys over?” He asked, suddenly. You had been distracted by the movie on the screen, some detective flick that had just come out, so it took you a minute to process the question. When you finally did, the mouthful of popcorn you had suddenly became stuck in your throat, leading you to practically choke.

Keigo’s eyes widened with concern as he pat your back, urging you to breathe before offering you some of the beer that was on the table. You gulped it down, panting before you responded.

“What?”

“I didn’t mean to startle you. Is it that strange of a question?” You looked at him incredulously, trying to search his face for any hint as to what he was thinking.

“I mean… it’s a little left field, Kei.” You offered before taking another drink.

“Why? You’re a beautiful woman, I’m surprised that you don’t have any other guys coming around here.” You felt your face flush red, your brain sputtered to find any sort of response.

“What?”

“Unless… you’re not into men?” His face grew serious. “I am supportive of whoever you want to love, I need you to know that.” You shoved him.

“Oh my God, Kei, what’s wrong with you?”

“What, there’s nothing wrong with being gay-“

“Of course there isn’t!” You practically shrieked. “But where is this sudden interrogation coming from?”

“I was just curious if you were seeing anyone.” He was pouting. “You never talk about it.”

“Of course I’m not!” You hit him with a pillow. “Why? Do you have some secret girlfriend you’ve never shared with me?” You stopped hitting him, for some reason the thought made you feel nauseated.

“No. You’re the only one I ever see.” He said, studying you thoughtfully.

“Well then, there you have it.” You hugged the pillow you had been using to hit him against your body. “We both have no life; love or otherwise so there.” You muttered, dragging your attention back to the TV.

“Guess so.” He said, thoughtfully. The two of you finished the movie in an awkward silence. You didn’t know quite what to say or do moving forward, so you stood with a stretch.

“I’m gonna go take a shower.” You said with a little yawn. “You can let yourself out or crash here. Whichever.” You tried to sound as casual as possible, but didn’t know if you quite succeeded.

Lately, there had been more and more nights when Keigo would stay the night at your house. The first time was unintentional, the two of you had fallen asleep on the couch after an impromptu movie marathon. The next time had been intentional, he asked to crash on your couch because he didn’t really want to go back to his empty place. In the morning, he had complained about his back hurting like hell, so the next time he wanted to stay over, you suggested you both share your bed. You justified it, saying that it was just like having sleepovers with friends in childhood- which led to a conversation about how Keigo had missed all sorts of things as a kid. You had been dedicated to giving him the experience, staying up late with snacks and Manga until the two of you crashed over the covers.

Since then, you hadn’t needed to do the entire sleepover experience, he just helped himself to your bed and the two of you had relaxed into your own routine with it. It seemed your relationship seemed to frequently evolve in a way that felt natural, no matter how blurred the lines were becoming.

Because of those blurred lines, and the conversation from earlier, your brain couldn’t focus as you showered. It didn’t help knowing that possibly in the next room was your insanely hot hero neighbor, waiting for you to come to bed. You definitely didn’t use your best body wash, or take the extra time to use a salt scrub on your skin, or spend a few extra minutes deep conditioning your hair while you shaved for the first time in months- that would have been insane. *cough*

By the time you left the shower and entered your room clad in a nightgown (also definitely NOT strategically picked over your normal tattered T-Shirt) ; you were pleased to see he had decided to stay. He was laid out on your bed, head towards your side, seemingly passed out. You crawled into bed carefully, sitting up for a moment simply admiring him before you snuggled under the covers.

As you studied his face, you reached out and caressed his cheek. Your thumb found his scar, tracing the flesh gently before it came to his lips. His mouth was so soft, softer than you would have thought and an impulse you couldn’t control took hold of you.

Your breathing had stopped. Almost in foresight of your plan- you had to know. You leaned in and softly brushed your lips against his in a gentle kiss. He didn’t move, but just the feeling of his lips on yours made your heart leap out of your chest.

When you pulled away, prepared to look over his face with satisfaction, your heart sank. His eyes were wide open and he was staring at you. Not just staring, his eyes practically burned into you. Your cheeks flushed, heart racing and you tried to speak but all that came out was a squeak.

“What a naughty little bird you are.” He said to you darkly. You felt the suffocating weight of your shame, and tore your eyes from him as quickly as possible.

“I-I’m sorry I just-“

“You what?” His voice was cold. You had fucked up.

“I wanted to know what it felt like… to… kiss you.”

“Well that isn’t gonna help you.” His voice was dripping with condescension. You looked at him in confusion before you felt him roll on top of you, grabbing your chin with his hand before taking your lips in a bruising kiss.

That flipping, over the moon feeling came back as his lips glided over yours, and when you felt his tongue drag across your bottom lip you groaned into him, happily obliging the escalation. His fingers tangled themselves in your hair, his other hand slowly finding its way to your back to pull you in impossibly closer.

When you felt like you couldn’t breathe, he finally parted from you.

“How was that?” His voice was raw, husky and you swallowed before shaking your head.

“No good.” You managed to let out between panting breaths. He looked almost hurt until you kissed him again. “Now I just want more.” You whispered into him and you could feel him shudder over you- the fluttering of his wings showing his pleasure in your statement.

“I can do that.” He growled into your open mouth, his tongue exploring yours just long enough to leave you breathless again before he moved his kisses lower. He kissed along your jaw, then down your neck and over to your ear, licking at your earlobe before biting it gently.

“Did you know-“ he whispered into your ear before moving his kisses lower. “That our bedrooms share a wall?” He licked the juncture of your neck and collarbone before taking a bit of flesh into his mouth and sucking on it. Your hands made their way to his back, clawing at his shirt helplessly.

“Oh yeah?” You tried to follow the conversation, but the heat from his every touch was beginning to be quite distracting.

“Mmhmm. And did you know that I can hear everything happening in this room?” You could feel the flush spread to your chest from your cheeks as his fingers deftly slid down the straps of your nightgown.

“Is that so?” You tried to sound casual, but you knew what he was implying.

He groaned again into your skin in response as his tongue explored the flesh of your newly exposed chest, slowly nudging the fabric down until your breasts were exposed. “Beautiful.” He said almost to himself before he sucked at your breast, tracing his tongue along your peaked nipple before biting down softly. You gasped, arching into him as your hand found his hair and your fingers laced into the roots.

“Keigo-“ you were panting, but his mouth continued its ministrations.

“Do you know how much self control it took for me to not come over here some nights? Hm?” He spoke into your skin again, then brought himself back to your lips, allowing one of his hands to continue the work his mouth had been doing. “Hearing you moan out so sweetly- never quite able to reach what you were looking for?” His hand traced down your torso, over the bunched fabric of your nightgown to between your legs.

As you felt the silky fabric drag up your thighs, your pulse quickened- you were simultaneously mortified and thrilled by the decision you had made getting out of the shower- when his hand touched your bare mound and his wings stretched out like they did whenever he was excited, you bit your lip.

“Nothing underneath?” His voice was feral. “You are a naughty bird.” His fingers wasted no time in spreading your lips, finding your clit with ease, he rubbed the bundle of nerves before sliding down to your entrance. “Soaking wet too.” He let out a little whine and the sound of it made you clench around nothing. “It’s like you did this all f’me.” When his fingers entered your twitching core, you thrust into his hand, urging him deeper, faster.

“I did-“ you managed to mewl as his fingers curled up inside you- “It’s all for you.” You were quickly becoming an unraveled mess, your breathing labored as you felt yourself nearing your release. Keigo kissed you again, all consuming passion and sloppy need and you felt a tear rolling down your cheek. The hand that had been at your breast came up to your face, his thumb wiping it away as he spoke into your mouth.

“It’s okay little bird, let go.” You nodded, kissing him again as you finally felt yourself break.

Keigo stroked you through your orgasm, gently caressing your thighs when you had control of your breathing again. You pulled back from him, looking into his face. His pupils were completely blown, looking fucked out already. His expression, which had been one of puckish excitement moments before, was now solemn. He kissed you once more, softly, before rolling away from you with a sigh. He laid flat on the bed, staring at the ceiling and you didn’t quite know what to say or do now.

The silence, though it lasted mere seconds, felt like a vast expanse of space in which nothing but your own anxiety existed.

“Keigo?” Your voice came out louder than you had anticipated, inadvertently causing you to cringe. He turned towards you then, bringing his gaze to yours before his eyes dragged down your half dressed body, nightgown still scrunched to expose most of you. A groan left him as he pulled his gaze away, his hand that had brought you to pleasure moments previously was now covering his grimacing face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’, angel.” He said, though it was entirely non convincing.

“Kei.” You repeated, rolling towards him, resting on your arm to look over his face. You pried his fingers off his eyes. “Look… I-I’m sorry.”

His eyes widened at you, but he said nothing. You worried at your lip, teeth pulling the tender flesh nearly to shreds. This was the first time you felt uncomfortable around Hawks. You didn’t just feel uncomfortable, you felt terrible. Like you had taken advantage of a friend, like you had finally crossed one of those blurred lines that was supposed to be sacred and unscathed.

“Sorry?” He repeated softly. “Sorry for what?” You tasted copper in your mouth- you licked over the flesh you had chewed open, trying to will yourself to stop the nervous habit.

“I shouldn’t have- I mean I wanted to, but it was wrong and-“

“Wrong?” Why was he just repeating after you? You suddenly felt too exposed, pulling back on your nightgown, you sat up and protectively covered your chest. “Did it really feel wrong to you?” Your eyes snapped to him.

“Of course not!” Your outburst ripped through the quiet that had been momentarily reestablished. “But- I- I shouldn’t have just- without asking- if I lost you I don’t know what—not that I have you- I mean-“ he leaned up then, grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you towards him to kiss you again. You whimpered into him, a relieved sort of sob threatening to leave you at any moment. He licked over the rim of your lips, clearly he had noticed your habit too.

“If you want me to stop- you need to tell me.” He spoke into your open mouth. “But … I’m not going to be able to stop if we keep going and once we…” he readjusted, tensing, “there’s no going back, (Y/N).” He was severe again, pulling himself just far enough away that his gaze could transform from one big eye into two amber pools, threatening in their intensity. You said nothing, swallowing hard. “If we keep going, I’m never going back to what we were. I can’t.” You might have imagined the way his voice broke on the last word, the way he hitched his breath and let it out with a sad sort of groan, but it didn’t matter as your lips sought his again. You offered your acceptance to his terms, trying to show him with each glide of your lips just how you felt.

Hawks eagerly met each movement, descending with you into a new subspace, recently discovered but yet to be explored. His hands reached for your nightgown again, pulling it from your body before pushing you rather roughly back down. He peeled off his own shirt awkwardly, you hadn’t ever seen him maneuver in or out of his clothes before and despite the mood of the moment you couldn’t help but giggle a bit at how urgently he wrestled out of it.

“Hope you enjoyed laughing, little bird.” When he was finally freed, he looked down at you with a dark expression, a smirk playing at his lips clearly promising more than you were prepared for. “You won’t have time for that soon.” He lunged for you again, kissing you with a demand for compliance. His tongue bullied its way into your mouth, deftly exploring your taste. You could hardly keep up with his movements, his hands were all over you, claws raking down your back and pulling across your ribs before sliding up to grip your breasts. His fingers bullied your flesh, though you had never been handled so roughly you couldn’t say you minded at all.

“Kei-“ you tried to pant into him, his kisses moving towards your neck while your hands grasped for his sweats. You tried to pull them down, but his hand batted you away.

“No.” He spoke firmly and you bit your lip. The hand that had slapped yours came up to your chin, pulling your lip away from your gnawing teeth slowly. His tongue grazed over the wounded flesh again before he sucked at it, letting it fall from his mouth with a satisfying pop. He then moved down your body quickly, spreading your thighs open wide. There was not a part of you left unexposed; the thought that you were the only one in that position suddenly made you feel vulnerable.

You didn’t have to meditate on that thought for very long though, as Keigo lowered his head down to your core and immediately used his mouth to mercilessly drag you towards orgasm. It was too much too fast; the hero was known for his precision and speed- each pass of his tongue proving just how hard he worked to earn that praise. Your head crashed into the bed below you, back arching unnaturally as you let out a noise that could hardly be recognized as belonging to you. You exploded, fireworks bursting behind your eyelids, and though he could not have missed the fact that he had just brought you to your second orgasm that evening, his oral assault continued.

“‘S too much—“' you squealed, “K-Kei-g-g—ugh!“ you cried but he continued to spell his name over you, branding you with it, the burn almost too much to handle. When you truly thought you would die, he pushed his fingers inside of you, curling the digits up and hitting the spot he had found earlier so expertly that without you being even slightly prepared, another climax was ripped from you. He still didn’t give you a moment's rest, lapping up every drop you offered to him until he was satisfied. Finally, he stopped for a moment, sitting on his knees with his wings flayed out, casting a shadow over what seemed like the entire room. Your eyes shut, heavy with exhaustion as you attempted to collect yourself.

When you could breathe again, you realized he was now laid between your thighs, arms on either side of your face. He wiped tears you didn’t remember shedding from your cheeks and kissed you gently, slowly bringing you back to his plane of existence.

As your consciousness slowly reentered your body, you noticed the way his skin felt against yours. All of it. The realization that he had undressed completely finally dawned on you when you felt a twitch of hardened flesh at the apex of your thighs, prodding you as if requesting entrance. A high pitched whine left your throat and entered his mouth, the ridiculous sound causing him to grin into your kiss. Finally you understood his frustration earlier at your flippant laughter.

“You ready, angel?” He spoke into your mouth as he lined himself up with your core; you nodded dumbly into him though you weren’t even quite sure if you were in fact ready. You felt like a million exposed nerves; every part of you was hyper aware of every touch, stray breath and every bead of sweat gliding across your skin.

Keigo began to thrust inside you, exhaustingly slowly, his entire body over you shuddering. Your hands, which had been clenching themselves in the sheets before, came up to his shoulders, dragging down to the base of his wings. When you allowed your fingers to trace the fine feathers at the base of them he let out a sharp hiss before burying the rest of his length inside you in one sharp thrust.

There was no sound, at least not that you could remember after that, just the feeling of his tongue running against your throat while his hips ground into you. His movements were shallow, as if he was too afraid to leave you, like all he wanted was to figure out how to make the two of you one. Desperately, you tried to move in tandem with him, but every bit of him was so distracting. You felt every muscle in his back, tried to grab at his thighs and pull him closer to you. Seems you agreed that nothing felt close enough.

So lost in your own little world, you didn’t notice he had been talking to you until he bit at your ear to get your attention.

“Hmm?” You were delirious with contentment, never had you felt so absolutely complete.

“I’m close, angel- are you?” He panted into your flesh and you just turned your head towards him, looking at his flushed, fucked out face with a groan. You shook your head no, then tried to lace together words; something like ‘It’s okay, let go’ or ‘I’ve already been fucked stupid, I’m just a plaything now.’ But in the absence of further response, Hawks took your no as a challenge.

He readjusted his body beneath you, moving to sit on his knees, draping your legs on either side of him. The new angle hit even deeper, and you let out a high-pitched moan of his name. Keigo moved his hands to your hips and he began to pull and push your body, effectively using you like a living flesh light. The way he arched your back and manipulated your body had you nearing your final release and as you opened your eyes to see the way he was studying your every movement you felt yourself clamping down on him.

“Fuck-“ he groaned, head flying back, crimson wings splaying out again. He looked so angelic- so inhumanly beautiful. You grabbed your breasts, pulling at your nipples, just following every urge you had. “Sh-shit angel, just like that-“ his hips faltered for a moment. “Play with yourself- that’s it-“ one of his hands holding your hips rested on your lower belly, pushing down while he brought a thumb to your clit, adding the most delicious pressure until you found yourself unable to hold on.

“Fuck!” You screamed as you felt yourself finally let go- clenching him for dear life, trying to milk him of every last drop. Distantly, you heard the symphony of sound the two of you were creating; the accumulation of whimpers and grunts emphasizing your crescendo. When he felt you cumming around him, he collapsed over you, blindly pounding into your flesh before letting out a final groan of your name. A pleasant warmth spread through you, his hips continued to pump into you slowly until finally he fully stilled, offering you a slow, sensual kiss. His arms slithered beneath you, holding you tight in a hug before rolling onto his back, taking you with him and laying you on his chest.

The two of you were still connected and you distantly noticed that your breathing had synchronized. You were spilled over him like jello, unable to move but enjoying the gentle caress of his hands on your back and your hair. You felt yourself dozing off, feeling completely and irrevocably satisfied.

“That was well worth the wait, angel.” He let out finally. You simply hummed in response, eyes growing heavier with each passing moment. “We should really get you cleaned up.” He added when you didn’t respond. To this, you groaned.

“No. No move. Only sleep.” You spoke into him, words muffled with the way your cheek pressed into his chest. You felt the roll of laughter he let out through his abdomen, jiggling you with it.

“Come on.” He didn’t seem to be willing to give you a choice, giving a short slap to your ass before lifting you off of him without much ceremony, leaving you feeling empty. You whined at the absence of him but didn’t have the opportunity to protest when he swooped you into his arms and princess-carried you to your bathroom.

He sat the two of you into the bath, his wings draped over the back of your tub and your back pressed into his chest. It was a tight fit, and as he leaned over to turn on the water, he scrunched you forward and you let out a groan at the stretch on your sore muscles.

“Sorry, baby bird.” He whispered into your ear softly and you whined, the sound of his voice eliciting a pleasant flip in your tummy. He sent a feather to grab the washcloth you had hanging on your shower caddy and grabbed the bar of soap you had resting on the ledge of the tub before lathering it and moving it over your skin.

You melted into him, letting out a gentle sigh of contentment while you snuggled into him as close as humanly possible. Despite your protests, this was heavenly. Hawks kissed your hair as he continued to clean you, dragging the soapy cloth over your chest and down to your thighs. You ignored the way your body reacted to him, refused to acknowledge the way your hips raised subconsciously to his touch. You could feel his smile against your neck but neither of you spoke. This was tender intimacy.

When the tub was full, he turned off the tap and the two of you simply laid there for a while. Your hands found his and you played with them, admiring the way his fingers slotted between yours, dragging your touches over the dozens of tiny scars and calluses. It was a solemn reminder of the reality of his situation ; how vast the difference between a civilian like yourself and a hero like him actually was.

“Are you sure?” You asked him, abruptly.

“Hm?” He questioned you sleepily.

“About this, I mean.” You tried to figure out what it was you wanted to say. “I mean- where does this leave us? You said you couldn’t go back, so where do we go?” You tried to look back at him, but the stretch was too uncomfortable, so you simply laid the side of your face against his chest.

“What do you mean where do we go?” His hands, which had been limp in yours allowing you to explore squeezed your fingers, and he brought his arms in to hug you. “You’re mine. I’m yours. Simple as that.” You couldn’t help the furrow of your brow, you were thankful he couldn’t see it.

“But why me?” You asked, recognizing how insecure you sounded.

“I knew it was you the first day we met.” He said, with finality. You let out a giggle.

“It was the fried chicken, wasn’t it?” You joked. He laughed into you.

“That definitely helped. But I knew even before that.” The way he said this was so confident, so finite.

“What if- what if this doesn’t work out?”

“Not an option.” Again, he was so sure.

“What do you mean?” His grip released you and he didn’t offer you a response.

Instead, he leaned forward and pulled the plug on the bath, then picked you up again before resting you on the bath mat. Keigo wrapped you up in a towel before grabbing one for himself, then he disappeared into the other room.

“Kei?” You called out, awkwardly, not really willing to move. When he came back, he was dressed in a pair of sweatpants and had brought you your normal sleep T-Shirt.

“Yeah?” He asked as he stripped the towel off of your body and wordlessly dressed you. You felt like a kid but still complied with every silent request he made to lift your arms or move your hair. He picked you up again, apparently to him, you no longer had the need to walk, and he rolled the two of you into bed.

He had laid you down beside him, tucked you in snugly, and was leaning his head on his hand as he gently caressed your face, studying you like he was debating something. You were still awaiting his response to your earlier question, trying to compel him to answer with a slight glare.

“When I told you that I can’t go back…” he started, finally getting to the answer you needed, “I meant it. You’re absolutely everything to me.” He closed his eyes, laying down fully while he looked up at the ceiling. “You’re home to me, (Y/N). The only one I’ve ever had.” He faced you again. “I’m never going to let that go. Even if you wanted me to.” His face was a little frightening as he said the last bit, and while somewhere you recognized you should be concerned by his sentiments , you couldn’t feel anything but joy. You smiled, despite yourself and didn’t miss the confused expression on his face.

“Okay.” You simply replied.

“Okay?”

“I’ll be your home, Keigo.” You rolled the top half of your body over his chest and kissed him. “For as long as you want me.” You kissed him sweetly, then snuggled into his chest and closed your eyes, noting the rapid thumping of his heart in his chest and allowing the tempo to guide you to sleep.

When you woke up in the morning, he was gone, but he had left a single feather behind to keep an eye on you. You weren’t worried, or offended that he hadn’t said goodbye. You knew he would always come home.

#hawks x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #keigo smut #keigo x reader #keigo x you #keigo x y/n #hawks x you #hawks x y/n #bnha fanfiction #romance #hello neighbor #hot neighbor

[onlyseokmins]

biker!wonwoo who revs his motorcycle's engine at 3am every. single. morning. in the new apartment complex you moved into.

it's a sputtering annoyance, pain in the ass, and a total nemesis for you who has to wake up at 5am for work. you thought moving closer to the city and lessening the commute would allow for more sleep but you were sorely mistaken.

but you can't move out because this is only a recent thing! everything was fine and dandy for a whole month and you cannot believe you were duped like this.

so, after the third week of being woken up by an engine rather than your alarm two hours later and occasionally missing your phone going off altogether once you fell back asleep again - you decide to do something about it.

after getting home from work, you stomp over and knock on the door that corresponds to the motorcycle parked outside it before you lose your nerve. there's no answer and wonwoo, the owner himself, darkly watches the way you play with your jewelry nervously while waiting on the porch from his smartphone.

"who's that pretty thing?" vernon teases, leering over the man's shoulder only to laugh and walk away when the older man flips him off, middle finger's black nail polish all chipped.

a couple hours later, he leaves the rowdy bar with a smirk still on his face after having watched you flounce away - but not without slapping a hand resolutely on his door one last time. strolling up to his building, hands tucked deep in the pockets of his leather jacket, wonwoo's tongue pokes his cheek playfully at the bright yellow sticky note left behind.

"I figured you might be asleep given how late you're out and about at night. however, I ask if you could please try to be more considerate of your neighbors sleeping - kindest regards :) "

he hangs it on his empty fridge.

and you think it worked. it's been nice and quiet at night, able to wake up significantly well-rested and in a better mood. even your coworker seungkwan is surprised when you don't snap at him for talking about his third kid on the way.

until two weeks later and you're awoken rather rudely not just by one revving motorcycle - but many. repeatedly. and you're shocked you're the only one annoyed by the unnecessary interruption and looking worse for wear from the lack of sleep.

on friday, you're prepared. even though you worked all day, you watched one of your favorite kickass dramas just for the moment at 3am when you heard the engine fire up. flying outside, you point accusingly at the dark figure throwing a leg over the bike to straddle it.

"wow, was it too hard for you to be quiet?!"

wonwoo's head flies around, thankful he actually put his contacts in tonight - yes, he sometimes rides without them but shh, don't tell anyone - because he can take in your appearance rather than whatever you're saying about how he should buy a new motorcycle.

you had been in bed like a normal person so of course you were wearing a comfy t-shirt and very obviously - no bra. wonwoo's throat dries up despite his drooling, noting your bare legs for free viewing before he tosses back, "aren't ya bein' the loud one, sugar?"

with that, he's quick to use the heel of his boot to flip up the kickstand and drive away when you angrily turn around at his condescending tone. the sneak peak of black lace - of all things - when your shirt rides up causing him to harshly grip the handlebars and try not to veer off the road. but not without glancing in the mirrors to sure you make it back inside safely.

wonwoo apologizes to you in the morning.

you think nothing of the man with messy bangs and thick glasses standing outside. not until the smell of motor oil hits your nose when you open the door, a familiar leather jacket matching the material of the fingerless gloves that cautiously wave hello, and the low drawl of "hey sugar, sorry 'bout last night. and the nights before that i s'ppose."

ofc you're highly tempted to slam the door in his face but kevlar boots hold it ajar while he smirks. "Our side of the city can get a little dangerous even with our territory expandin'. don'tcha think it's best to stay in my good graces?"

he thinks it's a shame that no one told a sweet thing like you about the dangerous stand-off between rival gangs in the area. your family had warned you about the motorcycle riders but most outside the city believed them to be an urban legend. but no, here you are in the middle of the crossfire and likely pissed off one of the big guns.

but wonwoo's actually quite fond of you. you slowly learn this and how dangerous he is after he begrudgingly takes you to see his leader - shooing nosy vernon who is hoverig. you're searching for your darn landlord to try and haggle a way to move out. somewhere safer.

"sweetheart, the safest you'll ever be is by jeon's side," seungcheol laughs with smoke billowing out of his mouth and you honestly think he's just fucking with you. "there's a target on your back and they already know what you look like."

well, shit.

"oh and don't bother about your landlord, my men wiped that bastard's existence off the streets for scammin' my boys... and people like you, i guess."

and so here you are and here you stay. surprisingly wonwoo doesn't push himself on you. instead, he exists like a stoic and quiet guard dog that lurks in the background that you just keep around. offering the smallest of smiles whenever you toss him a bone of attention that has your heart thumping and your gut twisting.

he hangs around the complex a lot more often, driving his bike a tad less which leads to a reduction in noise pollution and more sleep. though you start picking up the unforgettable hum of its engine whenever he casually shows up, close enough to watch over you getting off work but putting enough distance out of respect and to not rouse the rival gang's suspicion or intentions.

"besides," he tries to explain in a lazy drawl one night when you tentatively offer a beer and sit with him on your porch to ask. "you'd need to learn how to ride my bike and you have to get comfortable 'nough 'round me first to do that."

little do you both realize how wrapped around his finger - the physical one you just finished applying a fresh coat of black paint to - you are and vice versa.

you've lowered his high walls with your kind but spitfire nature and keeping his fridge filled with proper food/drinks and littered with more sticky notes. and he's pried open yours. not just with the fingers you'd disinfected, bandaged, and kissed easing gently in the wet heat between your legs that he has dreamt of since that fateful night and memorizing which spots make you moan the loudest. but also the quiet man who prefers the company of books rather than the fist fighting brawls he's always having to assist his gang brothers in.

but they are also his family, bonds forged by the blood spilled together rather than what runs in their veins. You can respect that, hands running across part of the gang symbol tattoo on his shoulder that will eventually reflect the back of his leather jacket - a matching one in the works for you, courtesy of seungcheol's partner.

you'd asked when he would get the rest of the elaborate design finished and he promises - with a kiss to your forehead and the dingy ring he'd given you (that's really a key ring twisted into a more flattering shape to fit your finger) - he would after saving up for few more years. lowkey, you still feel bad for yelling at him to buy a new motorcycle when he's so hard on money. by now, you've gotten used to the sound of the engine and the ride - of both the vehicle and the man.

for now, wonwoo is more than content with just your nails marking up his back instead and the warmth of your cheek pressed against it when he zooms through the city. although for his birthday, you put in a few extra hours and surprise him with a new bike - one that's engine roars obnoxiously loud!

yeah, he's completely in love with you and makes sure to baptize it with a mixture of your arousal and a couple cumstains that very night you gift it to him. the spot under the bridge, near the library that only you and him know about.

"when i first saw you all dressed up so cutely like you were going to sunday brunch with those bingo grannies, i thought there was no way you'd stick and stay around. but fuck, now you're all mine, huh sugar? never gonna leave me. under all those pretty layers is nothing but my sweet, desperate cockslut. hm, what on earth father joshua think of you spreading your legs and letting me bend you over my bike all the time? should i let you go to service next sunday with my cum soaking your panties and dripping down your legs?"

#fighting for my life w/ joshua fic rn #needed a lil break #ended up being a big one whoops! #this is just mumble jumble #you KNOW which wonwoo this is right - rwy beloved #ez.thots #wonu.thots #neighbor.au #svt.thots

[dxddycruise]

Bar romantics🎀 [18+]

Ethan hunt x !fem!reader

words count: 1.9k

A/N: meeting ethan in a bar and then yeh read and you’ll find out

warnings: smut

this is my christmas gift to @honeymvnt 🎀

originally posted on wattpad but decided would be better here🤭also this is my first time writing so cut me some slack 🧚‍♀️

You had just woken up from ur 2nd nap of the day since you had been in London for the past 10 hours the jet lag was killing you.

You had been living in America for the last 6 months working on the job. You had recently decided that it was time for you to come home (at least for a little bit) .

The past few days you had been visiting your family so never had time to catch up on your sleep from the jet lagged flight home. Today was the day you decided to get some sleep and chill out.

After 2 seven hour naps it was 8:30pm and u were now wide a wake. You had woken up in quite an unusual mood that didn't seem to come around very often, you jumped out of bed and decided it was time for you to hit the bars and nightlife in London which you have very much missed after being away for so long.

You sent a few messages to some old friends but just to your luck non of them were available, you thought "no wonder they are all now married with children". It never really bothered you that you were 29 and single you never really had the time recently for dating but whenever you would scroll through social media you would see all your friends settled down and having fun with their children, which sometimes made you wish that was you.

You started to get ready to go out as you had decided you can go out alone. You decided to make yourself look more than just the usual professional business woman and wear something quite revealing. You were telling yourself that it was just to make yourself feel better but your subconscious mind was having thoughts about other things.

1hr later you were fastening your strappy heels and grabbing your coat to head down to the town, the town was only a 6 minute walk from your flat so you just decided to walk there.

You got to the first bar which did not look anything like it used to, you remembered it as just a Run down pub with a few old wooden chairs and tables and most if the time just full of old men.

You walked in to the Newley refurbished pub ands sat on a black cushioned bar stool, "what can i get for you love" the barmaid asked "glass of white- actually" you stopped and thought *go on throw your self out there a bit* "sorry no could i get a double vodka and coke please" you continued " no problem honey" she replied "thank you" you replied when she placed the glass down in the bar. Your usual drink was just a glass of white wine but again your mind had other things planned for this night.

2 hours later-

You were now on your 3rd drink and although you were not a light weight the alcohol was definitely starting to have an effect on your confidence.

You scanned the room when your eyes met the other side of the bar. There was a man a rather gorgeous man looking at you his smile grew when you locked eyes with him but you were quick too look away as he was very handsome and didn't want to creep him out. You looked again and he was still looking at you, his brunette locks were glistening in the light above him as if he was an angel his eyes were a dark and luxurious green that could hypnotise you within minutes you continued to look back and forth from him and he eventually stood and made his way over to you, "why hello there, caught you staring huh" the brunette said , you were quick to fire back "actually i think you've got that the wrong way round", "oh, really" " well maybe your right" he grinned, you couldn't stop staring at his eyes they were one on the prettiest shades of green you had ever seen, "So do you want to tell me your name mysterious man" your replied as you were suddenly eager to know more "Ethan, Ethan hunt and you?" He asked "y/n". "So Ethan hunt what made you approach me" you said grinning at him " well my lady lets just say i was intrigued by you" he replied smiling widely. "Intrigued?" You questioned him. "Yes never seen you here before" he said. "Well i used to be a local but I've actually just returned from working in America" you replied in a professional tone " oh wow, sounds interesting" he replied with huge smile plastered against his face. You an Ethan talk for a few hour longer over a few too many drinks.

For the past half hour you couldn't keep your eyes off his you had given Each other a few glances that you both wanted more. You were so intoxicated but you knew that whoever this man is you wanted him BAD. "Hey do u want to back to mine for a few" u impulsively asked him "yeah why not" you both finish your drink and start to walk back to your flat. The walk somehow felt a lot longer than usual as Ethan grabbed your hand. The touch of his hand was so tender and soft his hands felt like silk, he was rubbing your thumb and it was making you feel so electric.

You finally reached your flat and opened the door as he let go of your hand he grinned at u and u grinned back. You closed the door behind you both and as you turned around he picked you up and slammed you against the door, you wrapped your legs around his waist and he asked "this is what you want right?" "Yes yes i do" you said with a slight moan in your voice as you were so surprised by him Picking you up.

Before you knew it he crashed his lips against yours and he slid his tongue into your mouth, the heat of his mouth mixed with the taste of whisky had your moaning against his lips, you managed to say between breaths, "down the hall second door" he followed your direction as it led him to your bedroom he placed you down on the bed and took his coat off he crawled on top of you. Your hands grasped his shirt and began to undo the buttons revealing his intensely toned body, he removed his arms from the light blue shirt and chucked it behind himself, you ran your hands up his arms trailing your fingers along the veins in this biceps.

Ethan pulled back from the kiss to lift to undo the zip on the rather revealing dress you had previously decided to wear. The dress slipped of and again he threw it behind him to land wherever they wanted, he turned his attention back to you and unclasped your strapless bra so you were left in only your panties.

You grabbed the waist of his jeans eager for him to get them off, he removed you hand from the waistband and said "patience, baby" he then pulled you to the edge of the bed as he got on his knees and started to trail kisses up your thighs.

He would get so close to your pulsing core then place a kiss on your clothed folds, you shuddered every time, "please eth- ethan" you moaned, he grabbed you panties and pulled them down your legs and once again discarded them on the floor behind him, he dived into your core and started to work his tongue against your clit, you were so aroused with pleasure ur started to arch your back, you felt Ethan grin against you as he was very clearly watching your reaction to figure out what you liked the most, he pulled back abruptly and put his fingers in his mouth but before you could question why he stopped he shoved a finger inside you, you moaned so loud at the sudden sensation you felt between your legs he started to pump his fingers inside you and then inserted a second finger with ease as you were quite literally dripping for him, he suddenly hit you g-spot and you groaned and arched your back even further he then realised and started to curl his finger to continuously hit you g-spot and with his other had he placed on ur stomach to steady you.

You were so overwhelmed but the pleasure he was bringing you and you were so close to the edge just threatening to topple over, you grabbed his hair to pull his face up and managed to squeeze out "Ethan fuck me please" Ethan grinned never like before and stood up leaving your core empty and craving for more, you sat up and pulled him towards you by the waistband on his jeans you undone his button and pulled them down along with his boxers realising his huge hard cock, the tip is red and pulsating, veins all along his shaft practically begging for attention, you said you wanted him to fuck you but god you needed this cock in your mouth first.

You decided not to ask and instead stood up and pushed him on the bed, you began to crawl up him but stopped at his crotch, he look at you now with a smug grin on his face, obviously very proud of his package, you licked the pre-cum of his tip and then began to dipped your head down as far as your could.

"God baby yo-your sooo good at thatt" Ethan moaned, "mhmm" you said sending vibrations throughout his whole body making him shudder beneath you evil ways.

You were starting to tease him sucking and then only a few swipes across his throbbing head, "y/n please ahh" he was so weak and so sexually frustrated, You decide to finally give into him as you got up and placed your self above him, He lined his cock with your entrance and he was balls deep with a swift motion from how wet you were for him.

"Oh my Ethan u feel so fucking good ahhhh" you moaned with your back arching while you rode his third leg, Ethan was so overtaken by how hot you were bouncing on him, he didn't know how much longer he would last so he sat up and lifted u placing you on the bed on all fours so he could get deep and catch you from another angle. As soon as he was pumping into you he was hitting your g-stop over and over and over "AHHHHH FUCKKK ETH-" you cut off as the white bliss came undone rushing throughout your entire body, a couple of seconds later Ethan came and collapsed next to you and pulled you to him to rest your head on his chest.

A few minutes later your breathing had finally calmed as well as Ethan's, "you know I didn't just bring you back for that and don't get me wrong because wow that was the best fuck I've had in a longg time" you said to humble him but you knew it was the best you had ever had, but you couldn't tell him that, "i would really like to see where this whole thing could go y/n" Ethan blurted out "you took the words right out of my mouth" you both laughed and estuary drifted of to sleep

𝐼𝑓 𝑝𝑒𝑜𝑝𝑙𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑎 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡2

likes and comments are appreciated🎀🫶🏼

#tom cruise #smut #ethan hunt x reader #hot as fuck #hot asf #daddy k!nk #thomas cruise #x reader #fanfic #18+ blog

[britany1997]

Sunkissed

Pool Boy! Michael x Fem! Rich! Reader

Hope y’all enjoy this collab @misslavenderlady and I did based off a poll she did about a pool boy fic:) we did equal work on this fic so please interact with both posts equally!!! Writing with Lave is so much fun! She’s kind and encouraging and they deserve the love!!!

Warnings: SMUT minors DNI, brat/brat tamer, soft dom, thigh fucking, praise kink, don/sub dynamics, massage, nipple play, semi public sex, cum marking, aftercare

Working during the summertime wasn't something that bothered Michael. He wasn't really the type of guy to waste the days sleeping in or going to bonfire parties. There was an itch within him to keep moving, get some work done, tackle some chores or pick up an odd job. He simply couldn't keep still for long. 

So in between his beach cleaning gig, he managed to find some clients who would pay him as a pool cleaner. People in Santa Carla who had their own private pools were quite generous with money, and that certainly motivated Michael to take on the jobs. 

Being that he was an incredibly handsome young man with a hardworking, polite personality, he gained quite a bit of popularity amongst the ladies of Santa Carla. He paid them no mind though. He just wanted to get his work done.

Your parents had hired him to take care of the pool while they were in Aruba for the summer. Though he couldn’t deny that the vision of your bikini-clad, sunbathing form was a beautiful sight, he’d figured you’d be no different from any of the other girls that threw themselves at him.

He looked over subtly to see your nimble fingers flipping through the pages of Cosmopolitan while sipping a smoothie. He rolled his eyes to himself. Yeah, you weren’t any different. Michael unclipped his sunglasses from his shirt and slid them on before taking out a net to skim leaves and debris off the surface of the pool.

Little did Michael know that your eyes weren't on the magazine in your hands. Hidden behind your designer sunglasses, your gaze was right on the handsome guy. You used to think that girls crushing on pool boys was a laughable cliche. After all, your family has previously hired the most dimwitted guys who half-assed their work. Such a turn-off. 

But Michael wasn't like that at all. He was actually a hard worker and put some real muscle into the tasks he was given. And he looked DAMN good doing it. 

That perfect, glowing skin, those strong arms, and those eyes that were bluer than the water in the pool. You had a big, fat crush on the guy, and you were going to milk this for all it was worth. 

"Hey Mikey!" you called out to him in between sips of your drink. "You missed a spot by the steps!" 

A nonexistent spot that was chosen in an area where you could get a better view of his back muscles, of course. 

Michael cringed at the nickname, but still headed over to clean the imaginary grime from the spot to humor you. 

Your lips turned up into a satisfied smile as you watched his muscles ripple. You sucked down the last of your smoothie as you imagined what it would be like to suck on something else.

As Michael finished amusing you, the sound of your fingers snapping garnered his attention. He watched as a suit-clad man rushed towards you so that you could set your empty smoothie glass on his silver tray. 

“Strawberry banana this time,” you ordered the man, “and no chunks, you know I hate that.” Your nose crinkled in disgust at the thought of a non-smooth smoothie.

Michael quirked an eyebrow, watching your little display while cleaning the sediment from the pool walls. 

"You know, it's already unfair enough that he has to wait on you like you're a little princess. Do you really have to make him do it in that monkey suit?" Michael quipped. 

Your pretty, red lips pulled up into a smirk. You angled your sunglasses downward to watch him more carefully. 

"I'm not the one who assigned the uniform, honey. But by all means, don't feel pressured to do the same. You can wear whatever you want around here~"

All you could think about was getting him from a bathing suit to a birthday suit. You’d spent many days by the pool imagining that hunk finally showing you all of what he was blessed with. You had to find a good way to thank your parents for hiring him.

Michael pursed his lips, but before he could reply, your butler returned with your smoothie. 

You took the cup from the tray, wrapping your full lips around the pink, swirly straw and sucking a bit to make sure it was to your liking, smiling as the flavors hit your tongue. 

“Thanks, Jeeves, that’s all for now,” you dismissed him with a flick of your wrist.

The man gave a little bow before heading back into the house, you presumed to go and dust some of your mother’s beloved antiques. 

Michael shook his head. “Is that even his name?” he asked.

“Dunno,” you replied, shrugging your shoulders, “not my job to know it.”

Michael crossed his arms over his chest. You pouted as your view was obscured. 

“You’re a real spoiled brat you know?” 

Your jaw dropped at his boldness, but you quickly regained your composure. “Didn’t know you had that in ya Mikey,” you teased. “Whatcha gonna do about it, spank me?”

The Emerson boy was no dummy. He knew exactly what you were trying to do. You liked playing around with boy toys without any consequences. Well, that would never fly in everyday life. All the struggle and humbleness his family experienced helped him realize that. 

He was going to make certain you learned a lesson about the real world. 

Michael let the net fall from his hand, the cleaning device splashing loudly into the water below. Curiosity rose within you as he stepped closer to your spot. Soon enough Michael was hovering over you, seeing you down while he slipped his glasses down and gazed at you with those piercing baby blues. 

"No. You're gonna apologize for being a little brat."

You nearly choked on that last sip of smoothie you had. Your head was spinning at that statement. 

"Excuse me?? Who the fuck do you think you're talking t-"

"Stop that!" 

Your words were cut down with a mere raise of his voice. To your own surprise, you felt yourself tremble beneath him. Between his height over you and the booming sound of his words, you were suddenly feeling quite small compared to him.

"Bad girls don't get what they want. Only good girls do. So," Michael began. In one swift motion, he grabbed the glass in your hand and effortlessly plucked it out of your grasp. "you're gonna be a good little lady and apologize for your behavior. It's the only way you're getting this back."

You sat up on your lawn chair in shock. Your mouth opened, then closed, then opened, then closed again. It felt like one of those novelty-singing fish your dad had hanging over the fireplace at your winter chalet.

While you didn’t want to give in, you also wanted your smoothie back…and despite yourself, Michael kind of made you want to be a good girl. You cleared your throat before speaking. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

Michael scoffed and leaned forward. “What was that?” he teased.

You huffed at him. “I said, I’m sorry… Michael, I’m very sorry.” 

He smiled and handed you your cup. “Good girl, I knew you could do it,” he leaned forward to kiss your cheek and pat your head softly. 

You gasped as your cheeks turned bright pink at his touch.

If Michael had noticed your embarrassment, he didn’t let on. When he pulled away from your cheek, he picked up his net as if nothing had happened and returned to his work. 

You laid back in shock, that was not how you’d expected the day to go. Your blush deepened as you realized your bikini bottoms had dampened and not from the pool water. You liked being Michael’s good girl.

Lost in your own thoughts, you missed Michael’s smirking face as he shot you subtle glances. He could tell you’d never had anyone tell you what to do your entire life. He’d enjoy being the first. Hmm, maybe you were different.

Although your mind was swimming with confusion and flirtatious thoughts of Michael, you still had enough focus to go about your routine. Every day the sun was out you got some tanning done before doing laps in the pool. By the time Michael was finished, it would be perfect for your swim. 

Until then, you were going to get that gorgeous summer glow that would be the envy of all your other rich friends. 

With a deep breath and a shake of your head, you reached under your chair to grab hold of the trusty bottle of tanning oil you preferred. You gave it a hefty shake before holding out your palm to take some in.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Michael's voice stopped you in your tracks. If the smoothie stealing hadn't shocked you before, this certainly did. 

"What??"

The curly-haired boy tsked while shaking his head in sheer disappointment. He crossed his arms over his strong chest as he eyed you once again. 

"You're going to get skin cancer with the stuff. You better put on sunblock or you're gonna turn into a raisin, little lady."

You pouted and whimpered without even thinking, the pink tinge returning to your cheeks. “But I don’t have any sunblock,” you admitted.

Michael sighed overdramatically, “what am I gonna do with you?” he lightly scolded before running to his bag.

“We can share mine,” he told you. “Lay down for me.”

You scrambled to do as he asked, laying out on your stomach on the lawn chair. Though you couldn’t see him from your position, his lips were curled up at your obedience. You were a quick learner. 

“That’s my good girl,” he purred as his hands skimmed the small of your back teasingly.

You could only bury your face deep against the chair so he wouldn't catch the deeper shade of blush on your face. He was already making you feel so flustered, yet his fingers were only touching a small part of you. 

"Better get rid of this so I don't make a mess."

Before you could even think to ask what he meant, your ears were greeted by the sound of fabric being scrunched before something was tossed to the side of your lounge chair. A tiny squeak fell from your lips as you caught sight of Michael's shirt on the ground.

There was no way this was happening. Your pool boy was going to rub sunblock on you while half-naked. The more you thought about it, the wetter your bikini bottoms got. 

"Gotta get a good, thick layer of this on ya, okay?" Michael spoke, slathering the cream onto his palm. He rubbed his hands together to warm it up some. "Don't worry. I'll be gentle."

“You don’t have to be…” you whispered to yourself more than anyone, but he smirked all the same.

Michael began to knead the sunscreen into your shoulders and back softly. He was almost as good as your massage therapist. You made a mental note to offer him that position when his pool cleaning gig was up. You wanted to keep him around for as long as possible, no matter what. 

When Michael finished with your upper half, he moved to your legs, running his fingers up and down your calves, coating your skin. As his hands began to drag up your thighs, you felt yourself grow warmer and it wasn’t from the sun. It took everything in you not to moan at his gentle caresses.

You knew Michael’s hands were likely calloused from all the hard work he did, but his feather-light touches felt so soft. His fingers skimmed the hem of your bikini bottoms as he continued to rub the sunscreen into your skin. Though you hadn’t thought it was possible, you could feel your face burn even hotter. 

You moved to flip onto your back, but Michael splayed a hand on your back, keeping you pressed into the chair. “Be good and still for me. Okay, honey?”

God, he really was a dream. The way Michael was on top of you and giving orders was driving you wild. You couldn't stop yourself from nibbling just a bit on your bottom lip. 

"O-Okay," you stuttered. When he decided he was ready, he flipped you onto your back, causing a gasp to leave your lips. You didn’t dare to say anything, you still wanted to be his good girl. 

The way the rays of the sun shined down on his sculpted body looked too perfect. Your eyes watched carefully as he spread another coat of sunblock onto his hands. He started with your stomach, massaging the area as he had done with your back. Once again, the lulling comfort of relaxation fell over you thanks to his touch. 

You didn't have a worry or care being like this with Michael. He was so firm, yet so gentle with you. Now that he could see your face, that was far more clear to him. 

The moment of peace was only interrupted when Michael took hold of your thighs.

"Wh-What're yo-"

"Shh shhhh, don't be scared, honey," Michael cooed, his soft words contrasting with how he threw your ankles onto his shoulder. "I gotta get all of those special spots on your skin~"

You followed Michael's orders and kept still and silent. While you were internally freaking out, he was casually rubbing sunblock along the length of your perfect legs. He pushed himself closer to you, his hips grazing the special spot where your bikini bottoms were. 

When he finished with your legs, he leaned over you, his brown curls falling around his face like a halo. 

He moved even closer, the curve of your ass rested on his thighs while your legs were still slung over his shoulder. You opened your mouth to speak but he shushed you. 

Michael glanced down at your right hand, resting by the side of your head, and moved to lace his fingers with yours. Your heart warmed at the feeling of your hands pressed together. There was something so sweet and intimate about how he held your hand. 

His other hand fiddled with your bikini top, pulling gently at the strings. “Now that I’ve done your back…” he traced a finger over your collarbone, “do you want me to do your front?”

You almost couldn't believe this was happening. Not too long ago Michael was rolling his eyes at you while scooping leaves out of your pool. Now he was offering to strip you down and get extra handsy with the sunblock. 

All those times you acted like a spoiled princess seemed so stupid now. Why would you keep misbehaving when you could give in and let Michael treat you like a good girl? Like HIS good girl. 

"Yes, Michael," you whispered. 

With his striking baby blues focused on you, he pulled the string of your top. The fabric slipped off with ease, revealing your breasts to him. Even with just a glance at your body, you could see the hazed look of lust take over on his face. It made your skin burn hotter than ever. 

"Perky little thing, aren't you?" He cooed. His fingers glided down your chest and over the nipples presented before him. The heat of his body contrasted with the coldness of the lotion, toying with your sensitive spots quite a bit. 

If that didn't make you whimper with lust, the feeling of his erection poking your thigh certainly did. 

You shouldn't have been surprised, given he was a hot-blooded man enjoying a shirtless lady underneath him. Then again, you were more than happy to find out he had an impressive size. You couldn’t remember the last time you enjoyed yourself with a guy.

“Hmm,” Michael hummed, faking concern.

“What is it?” you asked with a pout, worried you’d done something wrong.

“The sunscreen, it’s not gonna stay on here,” he said as his fingers skimmed over your nipples once more. “Too wet.”

“What?” your brow furrowed in confusion, “How are they-” 

You couldn’t finish your sentence when Michael’s mouth sealed around your breast. You gasped and arched your back into his mouth, loving the feeling of his tongue swirling around your nipple. The hand that wasn’t clasping his found its place in his perfect brown curls. When he’d finished toying with you he pulled back. 

“See? Way too wet,” he told you with a wink. You could only mutter a flustered ‘mhmm’ in response.

Not wanting to keep you waiting, Michael dove right back in, continuing his work with your other nipple. He let out a soft groan around the flesh, clearly aroused by how you felt in his mouth. Instead of swirling his tongue again, he sucked gently, stimulating you quite a bit. 

"Ooooh god~" you sighed. The grip of your fingers in his hair grew tighter as your arousal got stronger. You were dripping wet for Michael at this point. Your brain was completely clouded while your body took in all of the pleasure. 

"You taste so good, honey. Makes me want you even more than I already do."

Now you were REALLY hot and bothered. Michael's voice sounded so husky and hungry to you. The more he toyed with you, the stronger your need for him got. 

"Michael," you whimpered out. 

"Hmm? What's going on, honey?" he smirked, playing dumb with you. It only made you even whinier. 

"I need more! Please….please don't tease me…."

Michael laughed softly to himself. He dragged a finger down your abdomen, making your stomach muscles clench. “You wanna feel me in here?” he stroked his finger over your clothed pussy lightly.

You had never had to beg for anything in your life, and Michael could tell. Tears started to well in your eyes and your lip popped out as you nodded.

He pretended to consider your request, “I don’t know honey, do you think you’ve earned it?”

Now the tears had started to roll down your cheeks as you knew the answer to that question, maybe you could convince him otherwise?

“Yes…yes Michael I’ve earned it,” you swore.

Michael sighed. “You were mean to your butler, you teased me…doesn’t sound like good girl behavior to me.”

“But- but I apologized! And I was so good just now! I- please Michael,” you begged for the second time in your life.

“Don’t talk back baby,” Michael scolded and your lips immediately clamped shut. “Still,” he considered, “you have a point, I guess you have tried to be good for me today…maybe I can give you something.”

You would have done anything for him. “Thank you, Michael! I’ll be so good, I promise!”

“Yeah? You gonna be good and take what you’re given,” he smirked.

“Yes! Yes, Michael! Whatever you want.”

He loved the sound of that. Even if Michael was acting stern with you, he was still a very giving and kind lover. He wouldn't let your pleading fall on deaf ears. 

His hands moved gracefully, taking hold of each side of your bikini. You softly mewled from the sensation of a nearby breeze on your exposed bottom half once the last piece of clothing was discarded. Michael was left positively ravenous at the sight of such a wet, glistening pussy. 

"Holy shit," he sighed, running his tongue over his lips. "God, I gotta show you what you're doing to me, baby." 

It didn't take long for you to figure out what that meant. Far less gentle with himself than with you, Michael practically tore off his swim trunks. In mere seconds, his cock sprang out, thick and twitching with arousal. 

Your mouth fell open and your eyes shimmered at such a sight. He was so impressive. 

"Oooh my~" you said. "How'd you hide a big thing like that all this time?" 

"I dunno. But I guess I can't help how it shows when I got you under me, honey~"

Michael took hold of your thighs again, gently touching them as he pushed his body close to you. Your perfect breasts pushed up against his toned chest while he pressed his forehead against yours. You could smell the gum on his breath and it made you feel positively desperate to kiss him. 

"Listen closely," Michael whispered to you. "If you want to stop at any time, please don't be afraid to say so. I'll take care of you, but I need to keep you safe. Do you understand?"

Your heart raced from his words. Even when he was teasing, he was still so sweet with you. Michael sure beat all the arrogant trust fund assholes you’d messed around with in the past. He was a special guy.

“I understand, and I’ll tell you if I need to stop,” you promised.

Michael smiled down at you, “That’s my good girl,” he cupped your cheek before his hands gripped your thighs once more.

You bit your lip, “Michael?”

“Mhmm,” he stopped what he was doing and met your gaze. His lips pulled up into a smile at your blushing face. 

“Can I have a kiss before you start? Please?” you asked.

Michael’s smile grew even wider at such a cute request. He was proud of himself for seemingly taming you into his perfect, good girl in less than a day. “Since you asked so nicely…”

He pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose before beginning to grind against your thighs softly. You gasped at the friction, he was barely touching you and you already felt like you could come apart on your lawn chair.

Before you could whine for a proper kiss, Michael ceased any teasing and went right in. His lips were perfect in every way. Warm, soft, and fit so well with your own. Never before had a boy made you positively melt from just a first kiss. 

But Michael wasn't going to stop the passion there. He was a romantic at heart and wanted to keep you happy. With one hand caressing your cheek and the other grazing over one of your legs, he moved his body with yours some more. 

"My good girl~" he groaned. The tip of his cock was pushed past your thighs, so achingly close to your cunt. He let each inch of his length through as well. The two of you each let out a moan as his cock brushed over your pussy lips, getting soaked with just a small touch. 

"Keep your legs nice and tight for me, okay? I'm gonna fuck your pretty thighs like this~"

You nodded furiously and whimpered at his words. He smiled down at you. “You’re so cute like this, such a pretty girl for me.”

You beamed at his praise as you clenched your thighs tightly around him. His head fell to the crook of your neck and he moaned as you squeezed him. Your arms immediately gripped the lawn chair as your body felt overcome by the feeling of his cock brushing up against you.

“Do you hear how good you’re making me feel, baby?” he asked. “You’re being such an angel right now, holding me so tight. That’s my girl.” 

You sighed blissfully, ‘his girl.’ He had you wrapped around his finger and you didn’t even care.

Michael rolled his hips into your thighs at a slow and steady rhythm, occasionally brushing against your pussy and making you see stars.

"Mmmh! M-Michael~" you sighed out for him. You hadn't expected this to feel so amazing. He didn't even need to penetrate you to get your body going. The way his cock pushed against your thighs and clit was just so perfect. Even if you couldn't have more, you still loved what it was now. 

"Pretty little princess, arentcha~?" he cooed in your ear. Michael grabbed your hips tighter and thrust his hips at a faster pace. He tugged you upward a bit, letting your lower half lift from the chair. 

He brought his mouth to yours again, kissing you deeply while he fucked you. The precum dripping from the tip of his cock made your thighs and pussy so very slippery. He just made you so warm all over, and you didn't want it to stop for even a moment.

You wanted to touch him so badly, to wrap your fingers in his brown curls and pull, or to grip his toned shoulders as he fucked you, not so gently. But you knew better than to do anything without permission.

You managed to let out a breathy, “Michael…” between whimpers and moans. “Mhmm?” his tone has an almost condescending tinge to it, but you didn’t care. Maybe you didn’t mind being put in your place a little.

“Let me touch you? Please?” you begged.

Michael’s lips parted in shock. He had to hold back a snide remark about how the brat had already been fucked out of you, and he wasn’t even in you. Oh, but you were so vulnerable like this with your eyes glassed over and your supple lips pressed into the prettiest pout. Michael was a lot of things, but he wasn’t cruel.

He smirked down at you, not letting up from his pace, but moving closer to your clit with each thrust, a little reward for asking for what you wanted. “Where do you wanna touch me honey?”

He shifted his weight to support himself with one hand, while he grasped your hand sweetly with the other. 

"I won't lie, I've been wanting to touch this body of yours all summer," you admitted. 

Michael seemed to enjoy that statement quite a bit. He was a humble guy, but it was still nice to get his ego fluffed up a bit with compliments. 

"Then, by all means, enjoy yourself~"

He kept up the motions of his rocking while he allowed you to do as you wished with his body. Your manicured fingers traced over the dips and curves of his muscles. You couldn't help but squeeze his pecs and abs. It turned you on seeing someone so perfectly sculpted and toned above your writhing body. 

There was no hiding the fact that he felt the same way about you. Even when you were acting like a spoiled brat, you were a very SEXY spoiled brat. One with a gorgeous figure to caress and cherish as he pleased

His heart swelled with pride as you touched him softly, your eyes always searching his face to ensure you weren’t taking too much or being too greedy. 

He leaned down to whisper in your ear, “You’re being so good for me, sweetheart. Think you deserve a reward~”

You gasped as his thumb brushed across your clit. You could have cum right then and there. He began to move his thumb in soft circles, pulling gasps and moans from your perfect lips. It was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.

“Love how you touch me, baby,” Michael purred into your ear, “Needed to return the favor.”

You whimpered beneath him, totally intoxicated by the pleasure he was giving you. “I’m close,” you admitted, blushing.

He sighed happily, your words music to his ears. “Then be a good girl and cum for me ok?” Michael patronized, feeling how much you enjoyed his tone.

God, there was no holding back when he talked to you like that. The jolts of pleasure were rushing through your body, charging you up like electricity. With your hand gripping him tightly and your legs locking more firmly, you felt yourself get closer and closer with every second. 

Michael wasn't far behind you. It was quite easy to catch up with how much you had stimulated him. He grunted and moaned as he fucked your thighs and toyed with your clit at a faster pace. He was dying to see that beautiful face make an expression of truly amazing pleasure.

"FUCK!! Fuck, Michael!!! Yes!! Aaah~" you cried out. Your voice echoed out into the California air as the orgasm hit your body with full force. If Michael's cock and fingers weren't soaked already, they certainly were now. 

The sound of your pleasured screams triggered his own release mere moments later. Thick, white shots of cum splashed onto your soft thighs and stomach, properly marking you as Michael's girl. 

He stared down at you and smiled to himself, God you were a pretty sight. He bent down from his arms to his elbows and laid on your chest, arms wrapping around you in a sweet embrace. Now you were covered with him in more ways than one.

Instinctively, your arms snaked around him and your fingers began to draw circles on his back. Michael smiled softly, enjoying the lovely sensation as he pressed wet kisses on your cheeks, your jawline, and your neck. 

“You with me baby?” he asked as he tucked sweaty strands of hair behind your ear. 

You sighed happily, “Yeah.” Your cheeks were a pretty shade of pink as you smiled at him. “I like when you call me baby.”

He laughed softly. “Can I tell you a secret?”

You nodded enthusiastically.

“I like when you call me Mikey.”

You could have melted right there.

Michael grinned as he began to push up from the chair, but your sudden, tight grip on his waist stopped him. He looked down at your pitiful pout. 

“Gotta clean you up sweet girl,” he said as he stroked your cheek.

“Later, I promise,” you bargained. “For now can you just…hold me?”

His lips pulled up into a bright smile before he settled on top of you, laying his head on your chest. “For as long as you want, baby.” Your mom and dad may have been in Aruba, but you were in heaven.

Taglist❤️:

@6lostgirl6 @misslavenderlady @crustyboypix @ghoulgeousimmaculate @anna1306 @consuming-karma @bloodywickedvamp @warrior-616 @ria-coolgirl @lostboys1987girl @chiefdirector @mickkmaiden333 @solobagginses @kurt-nightcrawler @bitchyexpertprincess @arenpath @flower-crowned-lady @vampirefilmlover @dwaynedelight @dwaynesluscioushair @arbesa-mind @its-freaking-bats @metal4horses @rynsfandomsfun @f4iryfxies @memphiscity69

#the lost boys #lost boys fic #lost boys #michael lost boys #tlb #michael tlb #tlb michael #lost boys michael #the lost boys michael #michael the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #lost boys 1987 #tlb 1987 #michael #pool boy michael #lost boys smut #rich fem reader #brat fem reader #fem reader #michael x fem reader #brat #brat taming #the lost boys smut #michael smut #brattamer michael #fem reader smut #fem reader fic #michael fic #summer fic #collab

[fariesoiree]

LEMON TART!

caution! mdni! 11k wrdz, bie is a little bit obsessed with you, he is also a bit ooc :3, black reader <3, fem reader, someone tries to steal your car, pet names, sexual themes, fingering, oral ( f receiving ), overstimulation but barely, you get spanked like once, use of the word cunt, cunny, pussy, i mention you having something pink like eleven billion times bc i luv pink, yes i do add links for outfits but you can totes ignore them, think that’s all lmk if i missed smthing pls do not spam like my blog if you enjoyed it, feel free to tell me in the reblogs

The day he first laid eyes on you, he knew he wanted you.

You’re on your way home from your pilates class, blissfully unaware of the interested eyes on you. Dressed in a baby pink athletic set and glistening with the sheen of sweat, you take a swig of water from the matching pink bottle. The keys to your gray Jaguar convertible dangle at your fingertips.

Truthfully, Hobie doesn’t visit that area much. He’s only there to cure his boredom, in search of a quick fix. When there isn’t a lot of crime to stop or he decides that day he simply doesn’t care enough, he sits in shopping centers. He likes to play this little game and see how many kids he could keep from running into the street without their parents’ watchful eyes.

He has just gotten comfy on his perch after “saving” his third child when he spots you walking out the glass doors of some overpriced gym. The way the sun bounces off your melanated skin almost makes you seem saintly. He swears he even hears angelic singing in the background. Hobie can’t seem to keep his eyes off you while you prance into your car. His chest tugs when you disappear from his sight, seated behind tinted windows. He almost chases after you when you drive off, disappearing into the crowd of other civilians living their mundane lives.

Hobie finds himself having to restrain himself, gripping the ledge of the building. He is already hated in the public eye. No one appreciates his borderline heroic acts, although he wouldn’t call it that himself. They don’t even appreciate the riots he starts in the name of a better world. He couldn’t count the amount of times he’s saved the public from disastrous events but they didn’t care and he didn’t mind. Hobie actually prefers to deviate from what was accepted but he fells this would be too far. To follow an innocent woman on her way home? He would never cross that line, in costume or not.

Instead, he opts for visiting this location every Wednesday at 10:27 AM. Just ten minutes before your class would be released and you’d walk out wearing some cute color that made you look tempting. Each time, you’d be glowing with the aftereffects of a workout and each time he’d have to restrain himself from tailing you. It was his routine. He’d always be in his spot and you’d always be in yours, lives never intersecting.

Until.

Wednesday at 10:24 AM, Hobie sits in his spot. Sometimes he’d look off in the distance and daydream about your future together, sometimes he’d stare at the glass windows and hope to catch a glimpse of you on your way out. It’s just as sunshiney as any other day, the birds accompanying his thoughts of euphoria to spend forever with you.

He kicks his feet over the side of the ledge and swings them aimlessly. Time couldn’t pass any slower, could it? Keeping you from each other, from maybe possibly crossing paths just this once. The thought made him smile. As if you’d ever cross paths. Too many risks with that one.

His eyes land on a man wandering in the parking lot. There is nothing particularly interesting about him but Hobie still feels that itch in his palms, the tickle on the back of his neck. He tilts his head to the side and observes the man slowly making his way through the parking lot. He seems to take a particular interest in the cars across the street. The man never actually touches the cars. He just takes a peak at the back of them, maybe the rear window. It can easily be mistaken for searching for his car in the lot but there isn’t that much traffic. Not to mention, Hobie has enough practice to know better.

He watches the man take one final peak at a familiar gray convertible. So familiar he could spout the license plate off the top of his head or point out the Hello Kitty sticker on the bumper in a room full of them.

Sure Hobie would have swung over even if it wasn’t your car but he couldn’t ignore the intense tug at his heart. He fwips his web over to a light pole and jumps off the building without a second thought. To be honest, he didn’t truly have a plan. The only sound he can hear is the rushing blood in his head and the alarm bells ringing at the back of his brain. Hobie knows he has to stop him and that’s all he has going for him.

“What’cha up to here, man.” He lands on the pavement behind the man, hands on his hips and gesturing to the scene. “Anything I can help with?”

The man’s head snaps up to meet Spider Punk's eyes. He licks his lips and his hand drops hesitantly to his back pocket. “I can’t find the keys to my car and I wanted to see if the doors were unlocked, you know? New technology and this whole push to start thing.”

“Mmm.” Hobie leans forward and peers inside the windows. While he already knew the small details you allowed him indirect access to, he didn’t need everyone else knowing Spider-punk has an infatuation. “You drive a car with a pink steering wheel cover and princess sticker on the dashboard? No judgment.”

The man only huffs. He bucks up to Hobie, nearly shoving him out the way to get to the door handle. “Listen man, I’m just trying to get in my car. What’s it to you? It’s not yours.”

“No but it’s mine.”

Both heads turn to spot you, standing a safe distance away. Your eyebrows are knit together and you're gripping your similarly pink gym bag. You’re wearing a gray set today, hair slicked back and tied down with a matching gray scarf. “What is going on here?”

You feel a burning feeling in your heart, accompanied with the bubbling anxiousness prickling your skin and causing you to sweat a bit more. “What are you doing to my car?”

“Fucking hell.” The man grumbles distastefully. He doesn’t get a chance to run away, already being blasted against the neighboring car and restrained by thick webs. His body is sure to leave a small dent on the door but everyone knows Spider Punk isn’t exactly neat with his approach.

You look accusingly between Hobie and the perpetrator. Of course the one in the getup wasn’t trying to commit grand theft auto but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t have hurt your baby. You paid a pretty penny for her and it isn’t like he has the best track record. “What are you doing?” You restate from your safe spot.

Hobie’s mouth goes dry. Absolutely dry. If he tries to say anything right now the only thing that will leave his lips will be embarrassing squeaks. He is usually so much more composed than this. It isn’t like he doesn’t have women flocking to him constantly and occasionally, he does entertain them. He has enough life experience to run a brothel and here he is, getting cotton mouthed at the pretty girl he’s been watching for the last few weeks.

A breeze blows by and he gets a whiff of vanilla.

“Well?”

“I . . . uh . . . I caught him trying to break in so I intercepted. I didn’t know it was yours. You might want to call the police.”

“Oh my gosh, of course.” You reach into the front pocket to pull out your phone. How fitting to have a bedazzled case, pink and silver in a gleaming heart. “Did he get in or take anything or break anything? I don’t know what to do. I’ve never had anyone steal my car before. Do I need to call my lawyer? Are we going to court or something?” You’re rambling and rushing, messily punching in the numbers. Your heartbeat is finally starting to dull but the warm rushing has yet to cease.

“You have a lawyer?” He supposes it makes sense. Although most people he knows don't have a lawyer on call, you would be someone who would. You must come from an affluent family with the whole driving Jaguars and having lawyers thing.

You pause, sniffing a bit. “Yeah…?” You sideways glance to nothing before meeting his eyes again.

There is a beat of silence between you both.

“Right. Anyway, no. He didn’t take anything. I’ve been patrolling the area and caught him before he did. Just, uh, finish up calling the police and report this guy.” Hobie felt kind of naked. He may have been fully dressed but he is itching to find somewhere to put his hands. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have his jacket to hide them in so he crosses his arms instead.

“No, yeah. I will. Thank you so much. Is there something I can do to repay you? I feel a bit stupid and I left my car unlocked. I could, like, give you cash or something? You could get lunch.”

Oh, you’re just as sweet up close. The slight concern and guilt in your eyes. The way they sparkle and dance across his mask. Maybe you are trying to figure out who he is or engrave this moment in your memory like he is.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. I don’t need your money. I don’t take people’s money anyway.” He’s not quite sure if it conveys through the mask but he smiles. Gentle and honest. “Jus’ stay out of trouble and lock your doors, yeah?”

You dip your head sheepishly. How humiliating it is to have a crimestopper tell you something so obvious. It makes your stomach churn with embarrassment and your cheeks flush with warmth but you acknowledge his warning. It’s hard not to when he said it in such a buttery voice. You wonder if he looks as good as he sounds.

Hobie takes this opportunity to make a smooth exit, swinging away into the distance with his heart in his ears and a ridiculous grin on his face. He feels like a kid in the candy shop all over again. Except instead of being presented with a bunch of different options, he is presented with his favorite option.

It’s unbelievable that the previous parallel life lines finally crossed. Sure, it’s due to circumstances Hobie prefer you never experienced but they crossed nevertheless. He saved the girl of his dreams from the big bad monster and saw her smile mere steps away. Got to see the radiant aura you emit and the brilliant warmth that just has to have an effect on everyone around you.

That must be the reason you were targeted today. Even the worst people can’t ignore the huge target on your back. They are drawn in by the invisible tiara on your head and the glow of your cheeks. They can feel there was a princess in their presence and feel desperate to tear that innocence apart. That just won’t do. Hobie has to protect you from their rotten doings. You are untouchable, too perfect to be tainted. He can’t risk their dirt and grime coming near you. Sure, he feels somewhat obligated to protect everyone but there is no one at greater risk than you. No one as flawless, as pure.

You are clearly too silly to take care of yourself and you should be. The world should bend at your will and do what you want. It is foolish to expect you to look over your shoulder or lift a finger for your wellbeing. Someone should do that for you and that someone should be him.

₊ ⊹.𖥔 ݁ ˖

You appear to be completely oblivious to the outside world, too busy aiding your stumbling friend out of the club and into the Uber with one hand on her back and the other holding her hand. Her heels are long gone and in the hands of your other friend. All of your attention is completely devoted to her wellbeing but you can’t ignore the nagging feeling on the back of your neck.

It’s been there the past few days and only makes you feel more paranoid. There has been a sudden spike in Spider Punk appearances near you, a sudden spike in dangerous situations you have found yourself in. It’s as if you can’t take five steps out of your apartment without Spider Punk swinging through to save civilians from dangers you weren’t previously aware of. In some situations, it’s you.

Once again, you give the world behind you a fleeting look over your shoulder. As usual, you are only greeted with traffic and the night sky, full of glistening stars. See? You’re just being ludicrous. There’s no crazed monster trailing you and there is no need to feel so paranoid.

“☆,” your friend is whining in your ear. Her head is slumped over and rolling, accompanied by her groans. “I feel like I’m going to throw up.”

“Oh, please don’t.” You let go of her hand to lift her head. Your eyes met hers, glazed from tears and bloodshot. “It would be so much better if you waited until we got you home.” You pat her cheek in hopes the feeling will distract her drunken mind from the sloshing alcohol in her stomach. It’s a weak attempt however it’s still an attempt. “If you throw up, they won’t let you in the car.”

Lottie can only cry out in irritation. “I am never going to drink alcohol ever again. It feels like Satan’s ass is in my stomach.” Her head lolls onto your shoulder. Her blonde locs are draped all over you and you indulge in the small amount of warmth provided.

“Don’t worry about it, ☆. I can get her home by myself. You live in the other direction and I’m staying over there tonight, anyway.” Rico has to look over Lottie’s shriveled form to meet your eyes. She looks apologetic about her girlfriend’s condition but you shrug it off and shake your head.

“No, it’s okay. I want to make sure you guys get home safe and Lottie is gone. I don’t mind, really.” You’re almost insistent when you tell her. As concerned as you sound, deep down you know it is truly because you don’t want to go home on your own. You can’t shake the feeling that someone has their eyes on you from a distance and the last thing you want was to walk home on a busy night, alone.

Rico pulls the black Honda’s door open and ushers Lottie inside as smoothly as she can. “You’re such a sweetheart but you really don’t have to. We live thirty minutes in the opposite direction and these prices are obnoxious at this time of night. Just go home and call me as soon as you get there.”

You purse your lips. You have no intention of spending any money tonight to get home. You already spent the last of what you could to get in the club. You are just waiting for your dad to send you your weekly allowance. You can admit, you are a bit dumb with your money and your rules but can you really be to blame? You were born with a gold spoon in your month and no conception of how money works. Between lavish parties with socialites and getting anything you’ve ever asked for, you don’t have the best idea of what the world is like. However, your allowance is for fun and your paychecks are for household expenses. Is it your fault that you make much more in your allowance and could blow through it in a week if you wanted? Not at all.

“Okay,” you provide Rico with a less than satisfying tight smile. “Text me when you get home, Ri. I’ll drop your stuff off tomorrow. And let me know how Lottie is doing. Her hangover is gonna be insane.”

Rico is barely concerned with responding back. She’s both trying to wriggle her way into the car without disturbing the drunken girl and get them both safely buckled and situated. “M’kay. I’ll call you.”

“Bye, ☆! I love you so much!” The producer of the shriek is leaning against the coolness of the opposite window, reaching out symbolically to grab you. “You’re one of my best friends in the entire world and I don’t know what I would do withou –”

“Okay, bye!” Rico glances at you apologetically for the last time. Then, the door is slammed. The last you see is her hand comfortingly patting against her girlfriend’s thigh.

You watch the car drive away and sigh as a chill settles under your skin. Of course you don’t realize how truly cold it was outside until the warmth of your night has disappeared down the street. Not to mention what shots you did consume wore off the moment Lottie went off the rails. No longer could you enjoy your buzz. Instead, you have to get her home.

It ‘s a bit comical. Being marginally afraid of getting home alone on Halloween night. To be honest, this isn’t really how you planned your night to go. You were supposed to go out tonight with your friends and return back home with a guy. You were the tightest top you had with the smallest skirt you could find on purpose but now you are regretting it, standing on the sidewalk in fifty degree weather. And still, that sick, creeping feeling is nestled on the nape of your neck.

You scrunch your face in displeasure before starting your trek home. Fortunately, your luxury apartment was only fifteen minutes away and the city was still very much active. The only reason you feel an inkling of nervousness is due to the unusual feeling.

Your arms are tightly wrapped around yourself and you brush it off. It has to be nothing. There is no way you have such a persistent stalker who follows you everywhere. Sure, that is the definition of a stalker but it can’t happen to you, can it? It can’t. You simply won’t allow it.

You mumble about your irritation and tilt your gaze to the sky. The stars were beautiful but there was just something off about tonight. Maybe not in the sky but it feels like something is going to happen. As if you’re waiting to be a piece in a climatic story.

You grunt when someone brushes against you a bit too hard and meet the eyes of someone caught just as off guard as you.

“Sorry,” you speak in passing. Immediately after you find yourself cursing at yourself for being so careless. Pay attention when you walk. It’s a rule as old as time and naturally, you have a hard time following it.

You stop to take a break, maybe get out of your head. You’re leaning against the brick wall and pull out your phone. Perhaps it would be better to walk with some music. Keep you distracted from losing your mind over nothing. Or maybe not. Walking with noise in your ears while being paranoid, post robbery? Probably not a good idea.

Your fingers are fumbling across your phone screen. At this point, you’re ready to drop an extra band just to get an Uber. Already, you’re shivering from lack of physical activity. Occasionally, you can feel the weird glances from passing men, spotting a nearly vulnerable girl on the edge of sidewalk.

You’re just about to confirm your ride when a familiar tattered suit begins a slow stride towards you. Like a stunned idiot, anxious out of her mind, you squint at him. Not that you need particular aid seeing such a detailed and colorful suit, but it is a bit difficult to tell if that was the true Spider Punk or if a superfan decided to spend their entire savings on a high quality costume.

Fortunately for you, you got your confirmation.

“Yo? Aren’t you the girl with the car? The really nice one?”

“Huh?”

His voice is velvet in your ears, almost melting away your nervousness. Is it because he’s saved you in the past or because you just found yourself especially enamored by the richness of it all?

“Like, two weeks ago. Didn’t I help you out with your car and that guy?” As if you were longtime friends, Spider Punk strolls up to you. His hands are snug comfortably in the pockets in his fashionably tattered vest and for the first time, it truly registers just how tall he is.

You have to tilt your head up to view him, almost completely and it makes you feel particularly shy. Your words get caught in your throat, although you’re aware of the increasing time ticking between his question and your delayed response.

Spider Punk doesn’t fill the silence, however. He simply stands there with his head cocked to the side. His patience doesn’t help your fragile grasp on your sanity.

“Oh, uh yeah. Probably. I decided to press charges n’ stuff.” You wet your lips and turn your head away. At this rate, you are going to explode. This is overwhelming, stressful. You should be home right now. “What are you doing walking around? I thought superheroes weren’t supposed to be in public, like that.”

“Ah,” you see him turn his face to the sky and a chuckle leaves his lips. Even if you can’t see his face, you know he’s smiling. It’s obvious in how his mask pulls. “I never said I was a superhero, sweetheart. I just like protecting the people I care about.”

Your eyes meet again but instead of feeling flustered, you’re facing him with confusion. Was there an undertone or did he happen to be in the right place at the right time? “Oh. Okay. That’s cool.”

He doesn’t allow for a second of silence, springing the next question onto you almost immediately. “What are you doing here? It’s getting a bit late and pretty girls like you should be at home out of harm's way.”

“I . . . what?”

There’s another patience silence. Clearly, he isn’t interested in your stumbling and stuttering. You’re getting the point, now.

“I’m on my way home but I’m a bit shaken up. I’ve never been in that type of confrontation before.” Admittedly, you haven’t experienced any confrontation. Rich girl living in a bubble and assuming she is untouchable. Pretty typical. It isn’t something you would admit to most people. Had it been anyone else, anyone who hasn’t seen some pretty crazy crimes, you would have just chalked it up to anxiety due to lack of sleep.

“Mmm,” Spider Punk takes a glance over his shoulder. Considering the night, no one is paying any attention to him. Like you, they assume he put a ton of hard work into that costume. “Would you like me to escort you back home? I’m just patrolling, anyway.”

“I thought you do this for people you care about.” Your smile is slow growing, both from the reassurance that he’ll be able to work as your bodyguard for the passing moments and to lighten the mood.

“I do.”

“Oh.” It wavered just as slowly as it developed.

“I can do both. Like I said, I’m just patrolling.” He shrugs. His hands are drawn from his pockets and gently guide you to begin your journey to your apartment. Although you can’t see it, you can feel the size on the small of your back. If he truly wanted, he could probably crush your skull. The thought itself isn’t all that attractive but when it leads to other suggestions on where he could put them or what he could do with them is where the real fun begins.

The walk back is voiceless. Sounds of the city fill the space where a conversation would be. You feel twitchy, hyper aware of the situation. There’s probably a serious conflict happening somewhere, and here you are hogging safety all to yourself.

“You really don’t have to do this. I can make it home myself or get a ride or something.” You twirl a passion twist around your finger, narrowing in on the loose ends slowly unraveling. That nagging feeling is gone with him by your side.

He nods and you miss his eyes lingering on the top of your head, slowly raking over your form and drinking in the details. “You probably can. I’ve been swinging through, though and you’ve been in the same spot for five minutes.” The pale green color of your top looks alluring on your skin, along with the pink flowers decorating the hem. Oh, how angelic you are. “What are you supposed to be?”

Your refusal to look and acknowledge him doesn’t go unnoticed but he doesn’t press about it. In his eyes, this is a rare opportunity to burn you and your absoluteness into his memory. He’s only been able to hear the sweetness of your voice twice now, directed to him. Stolen conversations and hidden glances weren’t truly enough.

“Nothing special. A sprite or an elf or something. I haven’t decided yet.” You’re looking at your own Halloween costume now. A bit silly to not know what you were after parading around in it but it’s cute and that’s all that matters. The night is over, any and it’s not like anyone is truly that curious. “What are you doing walking around? I know you said you’re patrolling but aren’t you concerned about being followed?”

“Eh,” the thought really rolls off his shoulders, “look around. There’s dozens of me everywhere. They’d have to go and target every single one and no one wants to do that. Too busy celebrating with their families or being miserable they don’t have one.”

The conversation kind of dies there. It gets a bit awkward, walking side by side with someone you barely met. Little do you know, Spider Punk knows you like the back of his hand. He’s practically vibrating with excitement. Of course, he planned to insert himself into your life eventually but tonight was not the way he thought it would go. However, it’s better than he imagined. Walking his favorite girl to the safety of her living space, although he already knew where you live.

He’s been there almost every night, perched on the ledge of the roof of the building across the street. He knows he said he wouldn’t but that’s where you are most vulnerable. There, he would sit, watching you walk here and there, dilly dally through your night routine. Finally, when you would get comfortable under the plush duvet and set your phone down on your nightstand is when he’d consider leaving. He’d make his departure only when you are sound asleep, drifting off into your dreamspace.

But tonight, tonight he gets to walk with you. Would it be too much to hope you invite him in? He could fake a cough for a glass of water and take a mental picture of your space from a first person view, only to go home and completely map it out on paper. How would he protect you if he didn’t know every miniscule detail about your life? He is the only thing standing between you and the evilness in this world.

The silence grows oddly comfortable. Spider Punk is too deep in thought but only he knows what about. You’re relishing in the fact that you truly haven’t felt comfort like this in a while. No longer does it feel like someone is watching you from a distance. After a while, you’re both approaching the bright lights in the lobby.

“This is my stop.” You stand with your arms clasped behind your back. It’s evident you need your keycard to get in but digging into your chest to pull it out wasn’t too appealing, right now. “I can make my way in so you can leave now. Thank you so much for walking me home.”

Hobie tilts his head. Under his mask, he’s awfully disappointed. As if he’d let you dance your way out of this. “I’ll walk you to your door. Gotta finish my job completely, ☆.”

You don’t remember telling him your name but he probably got it the last time you saw each other. Maybe superheroes just know that kind of stuff.

“You don’t have to do that!” You only tighten your grip behind your back. “I’m fine and our security is really good. I’m home now so it’s okay.” You shift under his stare and his silence. Is he always like this? Stubborn and refusing to argue back? “So you can go now…”

“Or you can open the door.” He crosses his arms and shifts his weight to his side. You are certain if he didn’t have that mask on, he would be glaring at you right now. This has to be the sassiest man you know. He’s doing quite a bit just to walk you to your door.

You grumble some complaints and turn away, angling your body away from him and the glass doors. Your focus is the doors, though. The chances of you running into the residents are significantly higher than running into Spider Punk, again. You didn’t want your poor neighbors to be scarred with the image of you digging in between your boobs for your keycard. You turn back around to catch him just barely averting his gaze. At his height, it wasn’t too hard to peek over your shoulder and the temptation was just undeniable.

Your lips are pressed into a pout while you swipe the plastic square. The excitement bubbling in your stomach from attention is impossible to ignore but you lie to yourself and insist you’re so deeply bothered, you can feel it.

Like the gentleman he is, Spider Punk takes the door from you. He holds it open, following behind closely through the doorway. “Damn, this is nice.” He lets out a low whistle. His head draws a slow circle at the high ceilings and the floor to ceiling windows. “You really live like this, princess?”

You pout harder at his question. The amazement is normal, of course, but still. Somehow it all makes you feel alien, especially with the pet name attached. “Obviously.” You make a beeline to the elevator in an attempt to avoid the curious gazes directed your way.

With his long legs and therefore long stride, he doesn’t have to put in any effort to maintain your speed. “What’s the attitude for? Didn’t know I was offending you.” It’s difficult to tell whether or not he’s taunting you. It sounds sincere but somehow you doubt it.

“There is no attitude.” You retaliate back. You’re relentlessly jamming your finger on the elevator button. “You asked if I live here, I said obviously. That’s it.” Truthfully, not even you are sure what the bite back is for. First, you didn’t appreciate how he asked about your building. Then, you just found yourself stuck here. Really, this is all his fault.

Spider Punk leans against the wall beside you. His big boots scuff the floor beneath him but otherwise, he seems unphased. “Mmm,” he hums. His head lolls to the side. Your side. You’re ignoring the intense stare he’s giving you and you regret rushing the elevator now.

The door opens with a ding. Both fortunately and unfortunately, there are people already in it. While that means you don’t have to face whatever thoughts he has brewing to your response, you do have to deal with the awkwardness in front of a group of people, some of whom are too nosey for their own good.

As a result, the ride up is quiet. All the up to the fifty-second floor, neither of you speak a word. The door opens and you step out, noting that even in his brooding silence, Spider Punk lets you go first. Had it been any other man, a normal man, you would have ditched him at the front door but a “hero” wouldn’t come in and bombard you in your own space.

He follows you to your door, trailing on your heels. It’s unnerving how silent he is. He doesn’t look bothered but he merely watches you move. Watch you use your keycard to open your door, watch you turn the handle, and watch you turn your head back to his. “Okay. I’m home now.”

“Yeah. Obviously.” He retorts with a hint of a mocking tone. Clearly, he still feels a bit dishonored by your previous choice in tone. “I’m waiting for you to walk in. Like I said, gotta finish my job completely.”

“Oh. Right. You definitely said that before.” You sheepishly smile. The door to your apartment is pushed open, giving him a wide view of the pinked out living room. Not surprisingly enough, there are plenty of pastel colors, sanrio memorabilia, and flowers all over the place.

Shiny, white heated floors, stuffed animals strewn about. Plenty of comforting blankets and a flower shaped floor cushion in the corner. Looks just like you.

“I’d tell you how nice your place is but I don’t want you to bite my head off.”

Your shoulders drop, followed by an exasperated sigh. There is no way to explain he’s the reason you’re snappy and flustered. Him and his deep voice and calming nature. Him and his chivalry and big hands. “I’m sorry for how I spoke to you. Thank you for your compliment.”

Spider Punk turns his head up as if he’s miffed but the corners of his mask pull into a small smile. “It’s fine. Couldn’t stay too mad at ya, anyway. Could I come in? You know, to use your bathroom. I’ll leave right after but night patrolling is a pretty big job and I have needs, too.”

You’re hesitant, glancing over your shoulder. You really shouldn’t. Your better judgment is screaming at you for allowing this to continue this far. Despite his supposed nobility, he is a man and you live alone. Still, he walked you all the way home and saved your baby the other day.

“Um, sure.” You push your door open farther. The much taller man saunters right in as if he’s all too familiar with the place.

He stops in the entryway. Once again, his hands have found their way into his pockets. “Which way am I going, sweetheart?” He’s got a pretty rough guideline of the direction but he couldn’t tell you that. You’d never speak to him again.

“It’s just down the hall, that way. It’ll be on your left.” You’re still undoing the straps of your heels, one hand on the wall to maintain your balance. The last time you checked, the guest bathroom is in perfect order. How fortunate all your friends gather in your room and use your bathroom, instead. “Let me know if you need anything. I’ll be right back.”

You linger around just to watch him enter the bathroom before escaping to your room. In an ideal world, you’d be home alone and jump right into the shower. However, with a stranger within your property, you would much rather stick around to ensure he promptly makes his exit.

Once your feet touch the plush rug by your vanity, you begin un-readying yourself. Your butt-length twists are going up haphazardly into a bun. You’re pulling the hoops out your ears and the strip lashes off your eyes. The makeup remained, however. You were never the biggest fan of makeup wipes. They’re wasteful and never really get into your skin the way you want. Your skincare routine is much more thorough than that.

You pad your way over to your closet and pull out one of your pullover robes. With a quick glance casted at the door to safeguard your privacy, you begin peeling your clothes off you. Your top is tossed in the direction of your hamper before you’re moving onto the flowy brown skirt.

That’s when you see him.

You’re bent over, skirt halfway down your legs. Shirtless, braless, tits all out on display. You feel like a deer caught in headlights, eyes wide and frozen. You know he’s looking at you. His mask is pointed directly at you and even though you can’t see his expression, he has to be just as frozen as you are.

You snap back up, skirt coming up with you. You’re refusing to turn around, hands cupping your breasts while you reach for the robe. Your cheeks are burning and you have no idea if he’s still there or not. You didn’t hear any heavy footsteps, any boots smacking against the floor.

“You didn’t have to stop the show, ☆. I wasn’t expecting a strip tease but can’t say I don’t like it.”

You’re bumbling to pull the robe over your head. The fabric rolls and gets caught on itself but you’re persistent, tugging and pulling in all kinds of directions. “What are you doing here? This is the complete opposite direction of the bathroom.” You don’t turn around, not now, not ever. Instead, you tug on your hair next until the bun is loose and misshapen enough to mold and fit under the hood of the robe.

“You told me to tell you if I needed anything. I’m done and I’m leaving. Just happened to hear you make noise and rustling in here.”

You can hear him closing the space between you. Can feel the weight of his boots though the floor and his presence when he is eventually standing behind you. “Don’t gotta be shy about it. I’ve seen plenty in my life.” He knows it doesn’t sound the best or come out as comforting but his thoughts are a bit fogged over.

Sure, sometimes he gets glimpses of your body through your window but it’s nothing like this. You are always sure to change out of view or close your curtains, opening them when you’re finished. Sometimes he’d see the bottom of your ass peeking through your shorts. Sometimes he was lucky enough to see you parading around in tiny tops. Definitely didn’t compare to seeing your body up close.

“Gee, thanks. Is that supposed to make me feel better?” You scowling and muttering under your breath. You turn, finally, ignoring the burn of your cheeks and the rush of blood throughout your body. You’re ready to give him some sort of spiel about respecting your space and guiding him out the door but your voice is caught in your throat.

“Getting tired of the attitude, darlin’. You’re usually so sweet.” He’s so statuesque, towering over you. With his close proximity, to actually look you in the eyes, his chin is grazing his chest.

You encase your bottom lip between your teeth. If you were an idiot, which you might be for pushing this, you would have noticed the change in the air. Tensions, probably, growing much thicker than they should. “Usually?”

He doesn’t further explain. Instead, his eyes drift over to your discarded top in the corner. “What is with you tonight, ☆? You’re always so sweet. Did something happen while you were at the club? Or was it on the way back before I got you?”

“What? How did you know where I was?” Your eyes grow wide and your stomach churns. That feeling that someone was observing you from a distance, was that him? Who did you just invite in?

He ignores your question. Instead, he has a seat on the ottoman behind him with a sigh. He’s way too comfortable in your home. “Close the curtains, would you?”

You blink slowly. Nothing about this makes sense. His comfortability is unnerving and you hate the way he’s giving you requests in your own apartment you pay for. “I’m sorry? You want me to close my curtains?”

Spider Punk runs his hand down the front of his face. Your constant putting up a fight is exhausting him. He only has but so much unwavering patience, especially when he’s been anticipating this moment. “Yes, love. It would be really helpful if you could close the curtains so I can take my mask off.” He’s resorting to speaking to you like a child, slow and pitchy.

“Wait, what?” His confession to want to unmask right here, right now distracted you completely. You may not know much about his profession but you know that he is never to do. Doing right here in your apartment? That doesn’t sound quite right. “Why?”

“Oh my days!” He groans and in one swift motion, ejects his web to pull the white, blackout curtains shut. “I ask you to do one thing. One simple thing. Had you closed the curtains, I would have told you.” Spider Punk pulls his mask just as quickly as he closes the curtains. Beneath it, he reveals to you the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.

Dark chocolate skin as glowy as ever and equally dark eyes. His face is adorned with methodically placed piercings. A spider bite, a nose ring, a couple of ear and eyebrow piercings. Despite the laws of physics, his mask completely hid the length of the bulk of his locs. They fell all around, framing his face and between his eyes. Your knees buckle when he looks at you.

“Come here and please do it without the mouth. I’m doing my best and you’re really getting in the way of that.”

You feel like your body moves on it’s own. What’s possessed you to be so pliant, you have no idea. You know this is wrong, know that there is something unbalanced about this. There’s such a pretty man looking at you though, with the expectation that you can do no wrong. Who are you to deny yourself of indulging in the moment, especially when your earlier plans to get dicked down were foiled when you prioritized the health of your inebriated friend. You’ll deal with the consequences later.

You’re suddenly standing in front of him before you realize and his hands fly up to your hips. Gently, he’s pushing you to the ground, only stopping when you’re kneeling in front of him. “I’m going to ask you once. What’s bothering you, pretty girl? You had a weird temperament all night and I know it’s something. You’ve never been this way before.”

You tilt your head, unintentionally pushing your cheek father into his hand. He runs his thumb over the chub of it and you can feel the rough calluses graze against your skin. “I don’t understand. You only met me twice.” Your eyelashes brush against his fingers.

“Mhm. We’ve only officially met twice. That’s not the answer to my question, though.” His hands leave your cheeks and snake around your waist, rubbing the expansion of your back, down to your hips.

You’re awfully unsatisfied with his reply and nearly push him for more until you feel the harsh squeeze on your ass. You can feel your pussy lips separating and the thin cloth of your panties is quick to stick to the thin layer of slick between your legs. The discomfort makes you squirm and though it doesn’t go unnoticed, it is ignored.

“Nothing is wrong,” you finally say. “I’m fine. Just anxious, I guess.” Your eyes are downcast to hide the lie in your eyes. You’re sure he knows the real reason and will try to drag it out of you but that’s a risk you’re willing to take.

SLAP! His hand rains down on your left cheek. He grins when you whimper and lean forward in an attempt to evade his grasp. “Don’t lie to me. You’re not talking to me like this because you're anxious. What is it?”

Your head hangs low in anticipation. You don’t know how to find the words to say but you’re very aware the time is ticking. “I . . . It’s because . . .” Your following explanation is nothing but a mumble, too embarrassed to say it confidently.

“Didn’t hear you, pretty girl. Gotta speak up.” From behind, his hand yanks down the hood and gives a correctional tug to your hair until you’re facing him again. “Tell Hobie what’s botherin’ you.”

You want to pout and whine. Your stance is uncomfortable but the pull on your scalp is delicious. You can’t decide if you’re angry with him for putting you in the position or enjoying it so much you want to play your role. “It’s ‘cause I don’t know what to do around you. You make me nervous.”

At this, he perks up. It has the opposite effect on you. His grip tightens and the pull increases. He leans forward, his lips ghost over the space between your neck. “Do I? That’s not nice though, is it? Haven’t done anything to you. Didn’t put you in danger. Walked you home, made sure you’re safe and sound. I don’t deserve that, do I?”

“No,” Your speech is shaky when he attaches his lips to your skin. Your hands are on his thighs, holding on to what little sanity you have left. It is entirely too easy to get lost in this, in him. Even when he’s doing little to nothing, you can feel him and his warmth everywhere. You press your thighs together to alleviate the gentle throb of your clit.

“Didn’t think so.”

It comes as a surprise to you when you’re suddenly bare. The cloth previously on your body is tugged off without a second thought. Your brain is spinning in an attempt to catch up. The breeze of the air entices your nipples to slowly erect. They’re budding enough to catch Hobie’s attention. He gently rolls them between his fingers, using this as an opportunity to monitor your expression. “When’s the last time someone touched you, pretty? The last time someone had you creamin’ on their shit.”

Your face is contorting in poorly hidden pleasure. You’re doing your best to maintain solid ground, occasionally pressing your legs into each other and rubbing them back and forth. He’s teasing, playing with you slowly and you hated it but you weren’t one to voice your opinion. “Mm, I- I just lost my virginity a few months ago so...”

“You poor little thing.” His voice is dripping with content. Hobie tenderly kisses your forehead. He removes his hands from your body. “Stand up, why don’t you? Let me help you out, doll.”

To no one’s surprise, there is no hesitation or lip service with this request. You’re quick to stand up, disregarding your eagerness and mostly naked body in front of his calmness and fully dressed self. You’re almost beaming when Hobie’s hands find purchase at you again. He’s tugging down both your skirt and black mesh panties. He doesn’t even have to ask you to aid him in removing them. You step out of the materials accordingly and kick them across the room.

He moves you around himself, pulling your body against his. Your hands are moved to rest against his shoulders and your leg is lifted onto the space beside him. “Stay just how I put you.” Hobie looks at you through his eyelashes. He kisses the inside of your thigh. really taking his time to draw out the soft gasps as he made his way closer to your core. Hobie nips and bites at your skin on the way there. Occasionally, he leaves teeth marks behind. It’s only proper to leave something to remember him by in case he doesn’t get this opportunity again.

He has a grip with your thigh but the other hand wanders. It brushes up your leg and your stomach. It glides behind your back and fondles with the globes of your ass, pushing and kneading. It comes back around and slips between your legs. They softly run through against your folds and collect your wetness on the pads of his fingers.

You hum, almost ready to push against him. He’s taking this entirely too slow and it’s driving you crazy. “Hobie, please.” You whine. If you didn’t know any better, you’d push his hand in yourself.

He chuckles and pats your cunny. He can hear the moisture smacking and sloshing around under his fingertips. “Patience, angel. I’m gonna take care of her, promise.” Just as he promises, he pushes a finger deep inside you. You’re moan matches, slightly drawn out and slightly wobbly. Just as you suspected, his hands are huge. His fingers are thick and long. One hand could probably cover the majority of your torso. Having them sink so deeply into you is making you delirious.

“Well shit,” he massages your hip. His eyes are trained on your pussy. He’s entranced with the act of it, with his fingers drawing out more and more juices, with your pleas and pleasurable noises above his head. “You’re soaked.” It doesn’t take long for him to work you up to two fingers, slotting it next to the other.

You’re practically dripping down herself, grip tightening on his shoulders. You’re appreciative of his continuous grip on your leg because if it were your way, you wouldn’t be able to stand still. Not when he was constantly brushing against that spot you could barely reach yourself. “Oh my god, ‘Bie. There!” Your body falls forward, barely being held up when he continues to drill into you.

“Yeah? Feels good?” He doesn’t give you a chance to reply. Rather, he’s slouching underneath your body, tongue latching onto your clit. His eyes are barely lidded at the first taste. He swears you taste like a summer day, of strawberries and whip cream. He could spend all night here, drinking you in. It’s like his ears are stuffed with cotton. He can’t hear you. He can’t even hear himself moaning against your skin.

Hobie pulls his fingers out of you, ignoring your dissatisfied whines. In his right mind, he would have shushed you with gentle kisses and reassurance but he couldn’t form the words to. One taste got him pussydrunk and now he couldn’t stop.

Hobie scoots back onto your bed, clawing at your body to maintain the proximity. His eyes are wild and he doesn’t say a single thing. It’s obvious what he wants, though, when he lays back and yanks you on top of him. You shriek in surprise, nearly falling over his body. He has you situated, facing the growing tent in his pants.

“A warning would have been a little helpful.” You speak as if trying to lighten the mood, not realizing just how far gone Hobie really was. He only grunts in response and relocates your hips back over his face. One small taste is not enough. He was determined to get more out of you, as much as he wants. His arms hook you into places before he absolutely dives in.

And he was messy with it.

Hobie didn’t care if there was spit everywhere. He didn’t care if he drowns in it. In fact, he would love to. His tongue licks a fat stripe on your cunt. He can cum in his pants from the taste and your own moans. This is where he is meant to be, he’s sure of it. He’s only been here for a few minutes, seconds maybe, but he’s never felt more right.

He tongue probs around your entrance, experimentally. You gasp with a shaky breath, clenching the sheets. It encourages him to follow through, slurping and tongue fucking you. His vice grip keeps you settled. With how much you were squirming, you would have moved off or too far by now.

“Fucking- gonna-!” You can’t form your mouth around your words. Your brain is fuzzy with the intense bliss building in your core. You’re nearly ready to burst when Hobie begins rapid small circles on your bundle of nerves. You throw your head back, hair whipping free and falling all in his face but that’s the least of his worries. Not when you unintentionally push your hips down, allowing his tongue to push deeper and his fingers to pull more.

With one final nudge of his tongue and jerk of his fingers, you’re creaming all over his face. He’s grateful to lap it up, allowing you to ride through your high. He removes his fingers from what he’s sure is your now sensitive clit and his hands take their place on your hips. You shudder, and despite his wishes, eventually pry his hands off you. “I can’t.” You drag your body off his. Your chest heaves as you get comfortable on your back. You can still feel your cunny throbbing but she’s in no shape to be touched right now. “Too sensitive.”

If Hobie’s face says one thing, it’s that he’s displeased. He rolls over and looms over you, staring you down. His locs fall in his face but he doesn’t look bothered by it. He’s too busy hooking an arm under yours and moving you closer to the headboard. “Nah. I think you got a few more in you.”

Your eyes flash as he lifts you with ease. “Yeah, in a second.” You’re already ready to push him back, glare on deck. Before he even lets go of your side, he’s forced your hands to the headboard and webbed them in place.

“Can’t trust you to sit still and let me work.” Hobie hurriedly pecks your lips. “Won’t be too long so don’t be too mad at me.” He flashes you a smile as he retreats. You think he’s going to leave you until he begins his dance of removing his spidersuit. The stretchy material peels right off him and he’s back between your legs, resting on his shoulders.

Hobie doesn’t bother looking at you. He’s smiling at your cunny, just as glistening as when he left him. “Can’t believe you tried to keep me away from her. Just look at how much she missed me?” He plunges his finger inside you again, only to scoop up some of your cum and drag it out. “Breaking my heart, ☆.”

Your legs nearly close, leg’s drawing together at the knees. He draws out a mewl out of you, your body contorting in all different directions. “You’re so mean to me.” You whine, jerking even more so when Hobie delivers a slap on your pussy.

He feigns an apologetic expression, forcing your legs apart again. “I’m so mean to you? I’m so sorry. Let me make it up to you.” He lowers his head against your skin. Like the previous time, he’s pacifying on your clit again but it’s stronger. He’s determined, gaining momentum and pumping his tongue in your slit. You can’t help but tighten around his tongue, back arching against the wood. Was his tongue extra long or were you unable to maintain your composure?

Hobie is understanding, though. He takes it upon himself to keep you where he wants you. Despite your squirming and pushing, he pushes down on your stomach. With full access, he slurps and suckles. It’s an endless stream coming from your heavenly pussy and that’s just how he likes it. Hobie drinks it all in as if he was a starved man.

He pushes your legs wider, farther, curling and compacting your body. He folds you until your knees are nearly touching your ears. You swear you can feel your heartbeat ricocheting through your toes at this point. You’re tugging at the makeshift restraints. “Ohhh my god,” your eyes squeeze shut. Your breath catches in your throat when he strikes just the right spot, still spongy from your last orgasm.

Hobie peeks up at you, smirking into your folds. You’re just as pretty as he imagined. Prettier. Even with your eyes screwed closed and your skin glossed over with a thin layer of sweat.

You tug your hands again, straining to touch him. “Don’t stop! Please, please, please,” you chant. Your own nails dig into your skin, acrylics scratching the surface. The burn is a distant thought. “Let me touch you. I need – I need to touch you.”

Hobie messily kisses your slit when your essence leaks out and smears across your thighs. “Cum and I’ll think about it.”

His bruising grip on your hip keeps your lower body still. Despite his somewhat lanky frame, he’s still adorned with the basic spider-man muscles. Not to mention his habits kept him fit with all the swinging through the city and climbing on walls he does.

Your only surface to find purchase in is your headboard. Your nails scratch the wood and you’re sure you’ll regret it later but it’s the last thing in your mind. Not when hobie is alternating between his tongue and his fingers. He’s bumping against your clit strategically. Your body is fighting against his strength, wanting to arch and wriggle.

You press your head harder into the hard surface behind you, grateful for your hair acting as a pillow. Your toes begin to curl and once again, your legs are attempting to force their way together.

Hobie only forces them open farther. He displays his displeasure by wrapping his lips around your clit. He’s watching you through his eyelashes, growing more irritated with each squirm. You’re moving too much and it’s making it harder for him.

You don’t notice, not when you’re gasping for air. You draw in one big breath, the release prompting the synchronized release of your cum. Your chest is heaving, brushing against tbe tops go your thighs. Your body shakes and shudders at his relentless to fuck you through it.

“You’re makin’ this more difficult than it needs to be,” Hobie rises from his position between your legs. He kneels in front of your and languidly strokes his fingers inside you. It’s not enough pressure or movement to draw anything out of you but he can’t help it, can’t stop. “Sit still.”

The waterline of your eyes are just barely teary. You sniff, twisting your wrists under the webs. “I can’t. Tried to tell you. You didn’t listen.” You resist a pout by pressing your lips together. “Can you let my hands out now?”

It’s as if he didn’t hear you when he leans forward and kisses the corner of your lips. Hobie’s weight shifts underneath you and your question goes unanswered. You’re committing to your pout, eyes narrowing. “Hello? Are you gonna or what?”

Hobie pauses. His eyes are locked onto yours with his head tilted as if to say are you sure about that? “You makin’ demands now?” He pulls his raging dick out of his boxers. Too nervous to, you don’t let your gaze wander downwards. Still, you can tell his mushroom tip is puffy and leaking down his shaft. He may not have the girthiest dick but it’s long and swollen, craving your tight little cunt.

Your mouth slightly drops open when he rubs it through your folds. You’re silent and pliant, maybe out of nervousness for the situation you found yourself in. Of course he takes advantage of this.

“Hm? You tellin’ me what to do?” He reiterates his question, just barely pushing his tip back inside you, only to slip it out when you mewl. He isn’t surprised when you don’t answer. He’s already moving your legs farther down. He’s hungrily watching the way your pussy envelopes and welcomes him in. “Fuck, baby. You’re tighter than I imagined.” Even after him working you soft, you’re still just as flesh against him.

He can feel your walls spasm when he give an experimentally shallow thrust. You reel, falling nearly limp just from how deep he is. The position, the mating press he has you in gives him direct access to the deepest parts of you. Hobie doesn’t have to try too hard to reach your g-spot, just shy of hitting your cervix.

He massages the backs of your thighs, smugly taking in this vulnerable side about you. “How can I let you out if you can’t even take this. Can’t have you fighting me.”

Even in his best dreams, he didn’t think you’d feel this good. Didn’t think he’d be balls deep in his favorite girl Halloween night. Hr breathes sharply, eyes closing to truly focus on his pleasure. The small amount of sanity and restraint he’s been holding on to all night is slipping out of his reach, especially when he begins slow thrusts into you. You can’t move, not even if you wanted to. Not when he has you caged in, limiting your movement.

His hips stutter the first time you clock around him. “Fuck,” Hobie clenches his teeth. His tidy nails create little crescents in your skin. If he could push you into the mattress more, he would have. He needed to be so deep inside you that your bodies had no choice but to fuse together. He wants your body to remember his, to remember the shape of his cock, to maintain is so he can come back to soften you into putty again.

“Stop tryin’ to push me away.” Hobie spits out. He can feel your legs pushing against his hands and he hates it. It only makes him tighten his grip until he’s sure you’ll forever has his handprints there.

“Too much!” You hiccup. Tears fall over your cheeks as his pace picks up. He’s nonstop nudging your cervix, going way deeper than your last fuck months ago. You could just explode, pulling and pushing to find a position to alleviate the pressure but no matter where you go, Hobie is everywhere.

He doesn’t know where to focus. Your face, your tits, the spot where you were connected. His senses are overwhelmed. “Can’t be. I’m barely doing anything.” He’s vigorously plowing into you. The slap of skin between your bodies is an absolute symphony to him.

Your moans beg to differ, booming in the air of your room. The possibility of your neighbors hearing you is a distant thought. You couldn’t give a shit about them and their discomfort. They haven’t had the sexiest man alive fuck them into insanity.

You also don’t have to tell him you’re on the brink of release, not when you’re damn near cutting his dick in half. He’s forced to still, much to his displeasure. “Poor little thing.” Hobie fakes his pity. He hooks one of your legs over his shoulder. “Look at me when I make you cum.” He demands, waiting until he’s certain your eyes are trained on him to dribble spit on your soaking cunt.

His thumb follows, easily gliding rapid ministrations across it. It’s all over the place, his thighs and yours. The smell of your sex feels the air. He’s intoxicated.

Your eyes are barely open but you’re doing your best. Your heartbeat races as you wind up tighter. Your mouth drops open but you can’t speak. Can’t say a thing. It’s all too paralyzing. The only sound you can make are hums of encouragement until one final thrust pushes you over the edge.

You convulse, a water stream comes flushing out your cunny. The webs over your wrist are the only thing that keeps you from clinging onto his chest when you jerk forward.

It comes so quickly, Hobie is yanking his cock out of you. He hovers over your body, furiously fisting it until ropes of his own cum flies out and decorates your chest. He’s out of breath, expectantly. It took all of his efforts to devour you as he really wanted.

You’re just as exhausted, lying limp and silent. At some point, your legs are softly placed back on the mattress and he removes the sticky web keeping you in place.

In an ideal world, he’d do it again but there’s no way you can handle it. He reckons he’s already pushed you past your limit.

“Come back to me, pretty girl.” He massages your side. In contrast to his previous behavior, his hands are gentle. They soothe the dim ache settling into your muscles. “There you go. Come back to me.”

Hobie waits until you’re settled, waits until you’re smiling weakly. “Where’s your towels at?” His limited view from your window never showed him your linen closet. All he knows is that it’s somewhere in the hallway.

You shake your head and push yourself into seating. “I’d rather just shower.” You say. Your face contorts for a second at the feelings of your legs recovering from that punishing stretch. You don’t even have a moment to react before Hobie is grabbing at you again.

“Are you okay? Do you need anything? Should I help you?” His hands are at your waist again. You quizzically stare at him while he fusses over your frame. It’s not like it changes anything. He know what he did to you.

“No, no I’m just but . . . how do you know my name. Or where I was today?” Flashbacks of your conversation play through your head. You suddenly feel gross with the possibility that you just fucked a creep despite said creep being extremely attractive.

Hobie pressed his lips together. He tilts his head away while his eyes bounce off your white walls. He pushes his locs out of his eyes, seeming to weigh his words. “Well, mm, ever since we met that one time, you’re just everywhere I go.” He’s totally lying and he knows that but you don’t need to. If he told you the truth, you’d probably beat his ass in.

“What?”

He peeks over at you before becoming super interested in the fabric of your pink sheets. “Yeah. You don’t notice but I run into you a lot and your friends are kinda loud, y’know?” He picks off a piece of lint. “So I just caught it one day, I guess. ‘Nd like I said, I was patrolling the area. Saw you come out.” His story sounds bad, oddly strung together. He knows. But he also knows you’re a bit dumb, a bit too trusting. You let him in your apartment to pee, for christ’s sake.

“Oh,” you nod. Just as expected, you believe him. At least enough to let it go and ignore what concern you may feel. “And you did this because? I mean, you don’t do this with everyone you just meet do you?”

In your defense, you are just a civilian. You live a somewhat normal life. This sounds like a completely reasonable explanation, although you are hyper aware of the fact that you were are it naked. It bothers you that Hobie doesn’t care.

He’s lax, rubbing the silk cloth between his fingers. The corners of his mouth are upturned and you have to fight the urge to ask him what’s funny. “No. Just you. I wouldn’t wanna do this with anyone else. Thought that was pretty obvious.”

You suppose it could be, though it doesn’t make sense to you. Maybe you aren’t sure how to wrap your head around the situation. So you don’t say anything in return. You just hum and nod because what were you supposed to say? This isn’t an everyday occurrence and you certainly weren’t expecting Spider Punk himself, tonight.

“Listen,” Hobie starts, “this is a lot, I know. Weren’t expecting it or whatever but at some point, you’re gonna miss me.” He grins all wide and smug. He is smug. He knows the impression he left behind. He knows what you like, what gets you going. You’ll miss him. “All I’m going to do is leave my number here, ‘kay? It’s completely up to you.”

You don’t like his arrogance. You don’t like it even more when he stands and strides right up to your nightstand. As he scribbles his number on your stack of sticky notes, you swear to yourself that you’re gonna throw it away. He’s too confident your your liking, too sure of himself. It’s almost as if he knows you’re not gonna get the memory of him plowing into you in a few weeks.

Not to his surprise, you don’t. It only takes him a few days before he’s hearing from you again, all hesitant and precious when you invite him over. And of course, he goes. Who was he to deny your right? Especially when the day he first laid eyes on you, he knew he wanted you.

#ִ ࣪✮🕷✮⋆˙ #partially edited #didn’t edit the smut bc i can’t read my own smut #it makes me CRINGE #but it’s done c: #may come back and edit it laterrr #astv hobie #hobie brown #hobie smut #hobie x black!reader #hobie x reader #hobie x y/n #x black fem reader #x black reader #x reader

[autisticlancemcclain]

“Damn,” Lance mutters to himself, craning his neck as he takes in the building in front of him. The tall, beautiful building. The expensive building, Lordie. They’ve come a long way since they were bunked up in their piece of shit studio apartment, 19 years old and stressed and completely unsure about what they were doing in life.

Lance snorts. Well. Maybe they haven’t changed that much.

Reminding himself how excited he is to see Hunk’s new place, he heads through the sleek glass doors, nodding at the doorman — an actual doorman, what the fuck — and hauling ass to make the elevator. He rides up to the twentieth floor, which seems to take a thousand years. That probably has less to do with the actual elevator and more to do with the fact that there are six other people in this elevator and five of them are wearing fancy suits, but whatever.

He steps out onto the quiet, carpeted hallway, looking for apartment 2014. He finds it quickly, peeking under the welcome mat like Hunk said, beyond relieved to see the silver key. He slides it through the lock, opening it easily, and pokes his head through the door.

“Dandelion?” he calls softly. He’s expecting the excited howling of Hunk’s big dumb cat, then the sound of his little paws clambering on the floor as he speeds down the hallway, but there’s nothing. Lance shrugs, stepping all the way into the apartment and locking the door behind him. Hunk must have taken Dandelion with him to see Shay.

Humming to himself, Lance heads for the kitchen. He ate before he got on the train, but that was almost two hours ago, and besides — Hunk’s fridge is always stocked. At best there will be leftovers of whatever genius Hunk has cooked up in the past couple days, and at worst there’ll be fifteen dollar exotic strawberries that Lance will steal shamelessly.

Hunk is so lucky to have Lance as a best friend, honestly.

Opening the fridge, however, is a massive disappointment. There’s not a single fancy schmancy ingredient in sight, and certainly no delicious leftovers. In fact the fridge is almost completely barren, only a carton of eggs, random condiments, and a bunch of veggies. The veggies make sense, but the fridge still feels off, somehow. But there are ingredients enough to make a killer sandwich, so Lance helps himself.

Ignoring the countless warnings Hunk has given him over the years to not eat and walk so he doesn’t get crumbs everywhere, Lance decides to give himself a tour of the apartment. It’s leagues better than anything either of them have every lived in before, which is nice. Lance is unbelievably proud of Hunk for his promotion — he deserves it and more. He most definitely deserves the sick view, 20 storeys in the air, the crown moulded ceilings, the general cleanliness. The sparseness of the place is definitely a little odd for Hunk, because he’s more of a knickknack guy, but he’s only been at this place for a couple months. Makes sense that he hasn’t unpacked yet.

Lance perks up at the sound of the key in the lock. It’s a little early, yet, almost a half hour before Hunk said he’d be here, but hey — the earlier the better! Lance has missed living near his best friend.

Quickly scarfing down his sandwich — he was so bullshitting before and if Hunk catches him red handed he’s going to die and he knows it — he sprints to the kitchen, hiding just behind the bend of the wall. He snickers quietly for himself, tense in wait. He’s going to scare the shit out of Hunk, and it’s going to be great.

“— yeah, yeah, I know, but I’ve got shit to do tonight, Shiro. I don’t have time.”

Lance freezes.

That’s not Hunk.

“What? No! I’m not sacrificing Survivor to go to some bar, dude! Why the hell would I trade chilling out with Kosmo on the couch and watching people be fools in the wilderness for dodging drunk people?”

Maybe Hunk brought a friend over, Lance thinks to himself. Hunk’s a friendly guy. It’s possible.

“Yeah, yeah.” The mystery man’s voice goes high pitched, mocking. “I have no friends and need to get out more, blah blah blah. hear you, Shiro.”

Lance’s heart pounds. So much for that theory. He peeks around the corner, expecting some dude in a ski mask and dressed in black, holding a gun and a duffel bag. Instead he sees a guy, dressed in a white t-shirt — a tight white tee, may Lance add — and basketball shorts, maybe a couple inches taller than Lance, sporting what Lance can only call an honest-to-God mullet.

Well, at least Lance got the duffel bag part right.

The man’s voice turns exasperated. “I am taking you seriously, Shiro. Promise. I’ll go — I’ll do something social tomorrow, okay?” The man turns slightly, so Lance has full view of his profile, and the arm holding up his phone.

The, uh, fairly toned arm.

“Yeah. I will. Love you, too.”

Oh no.

This intruder is hot.

The hot intruder hangs up, shoving his phone in his pocket. Then, faster than Lance can react (look, no one prepares you for a burglar that looks like a Greek god, okay? Lance is a little stupefied and he feels that it’s justified. This man’s jawline alone is affecting his heart worse than the fear that he’s gonna get murdered for witnessing a crime), the man turns into the kitchen.

Face to face with Lance.

For a moment neither of them say anything, completely frozen, wide-eyed and slack-jawed. And then the hot intruder blinks, says “Shit!” loudly enough to echo, and reaches for his pocket.

Lance, fearing the worst, screeches at the top of his lungs, and sprints for the bedroom, shoving past the intruder.

“Get out!” he screams, slamming and locking the door behind him. “Get out get out get out!”

“What the — you get out!” the intruder screams back. He slams into the door, banging on it as he juggles the handle. “Why are you here?”

“Dear God, please help me.” Lance isn’t much of a religious person, really, but all those boring years of Easter Mass growing up must have affected him in some way, because he’s halfway ready to start praying for real. Obviously, this man had quietly observed how smart and handsome and awesome Hunk looks, and assumed he’s a rich supergenius, and has now come to rob him blind as he’s out of the house. What this horrible criminal didn’t expect was Lance, here to visit his friend at his new place. And now that Lance has witnessed him, bare-faced and red-handed, he is going to murder Lance — to death — to cover his crime.

“I’m calling the police!” Lance screeches. He doesn’t have a whole lot of faith in the fuckers, but at this point they’re better than nothing. Maybe they’ll bring a forensic team to help solve the crime of Leandro Agustín Nuñez Carmen Esposita-McClain, far too young and beautiful to die, murdered tragically.

There’s a pause from the other side of the door, almost shocked.

“Why the fuck would you be calling the cops?” demands the man, half incredulous. “I’m calling the cops, you trespassing weirdo!”

Something like cold realization begins to build up in Lance’s gut. “I’m calling the cops because you’re trying to rob this apartment and maybe murder me?” he suggests.

“Rob the — murder you?” the man sputters. “This is my fucking apartment!”

Before he can talk himself out of it, Lance unlocks the door and yanks it open, face to face with Mr Tall, Mulleted, and Handsome.

“Do you,” he says nervously, face a little red, “happen to have a neighbour named Hunk Garrett?”

The man blinks at him. “Yeah. He’s across the hall. 2041.”

A long, agonizing moment of silence. Both of them just look at each other in pure bewilderment. (Well, Lance will admit that his bewilderment is not quite so pure. There might be some healthy admiration and lust swimming around there somewhere. This man is very attractive, and Lance has a thing for people who are angry with him. It’s a complex.)

“In my defense,” Lance says eventually, “I’m dyslexic.”

———

Luckily for Lance, Keith — the hot not-intruder — is very understanding of the entire ideal.

By that, Lance means he laughs himself to tears, right there on the hallway floor.

“There’s no way this is happening in real life,” Keith wheezes. “There’s no way you could fuck up this bad.”

Lance scowls. “Oh, piss off. I flipped two measly digits, and you’re the dumbass who keeps your house key under your welcome mat! Who even does that!”

It takes Keith several tries to calm himself down. The first few times he seems like he’s normal, but then he looks at Lance’s grouchy face and loses it all over again. The worst part is that he has a fucking gorgeous laugh, so Lance is having a really hard time staying angry.

“I’m —” Keith takes a deep, shuddering breath — “I’m sorry, dude. Lance. Really. I don’t mean to laugh at you. It’s just — I was just telling my brother that nothing happens here, you know? And then this.”

Lance softens, finally allowing himself a small smile. He offers a hand to Keith, who takes it and pulls himself up. “Yeah, I guess it’s kind of a one-in-a-lifetime thing, huh?”

Keith hums. “Yeah.”

Keith’s hand is calloused, along the heel and flex of his palm. His hand is also very warm, like Lance has his own personal hand-heater. But Lance is, if he’s being entirely honest, paying way more attention to his eyes — they’re the most peculiar shade of indigo, so dark that Lance thought they were black, at first. But no, the darkest shade of blue-purple Lance has ever seen. He has freckles too, though barely. Just a couple spattered on the bridge of his nose. And the —

The sound of the Swedish chef from the Muppets over trap music startles Lance out of his reverie — Hunk’s ringtone. He pulls away from Keith’s hand, from his very close personal space, God, and hurriedly answers.

“Yeah, Hunk?”

His voice cracks seven times. He’s not proud of it.

“Where are you, dude? You were supposed to get here earlier than me but I’ve been here for twenty minutes. Did you get lost?”

Lance looks at his watch, then curses loudly. Has he really been in Keith’s apartment for nearly an hour? Fuck!

“I didn’t get — I just lost track of time — I’m not — I’ll be right there,” he rushes out. “See you in five, okay?”

He hangs up before Hunk has the chance to respond, still cursing endlessly.

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He grips his hair with one hand, other clenching his phone. He flicks his eyes back to Keith, who looks way more amused than he has any right to. “I have — I’ve gotta go. Now.”

“To the right apartment this time,” Keith surmises, grinning.

Lance flushes. “That would be correct, yes. I’m meeting my friend for dinner.”

“Hunk Garrett. Chef extraordinaire. You mentioned.”

Like a dumbass and before he can stop himself, Lance blurts: “You should come with me.”

Keith raises an amused eyebrow. “I’m not an expert in social cues or anything, but I don’t think you can invite me over to other people’s houses.” He chuckles. “Although you don’t seem to have a problem showing up to places randomly, huh?”

“Shut up!”Lance checks his watch again, then bites his lip. “I really have to go.” There’s nothing stopping him. He has no reason to stay, really. But for some reason he doesn’t want to go.

“Hey, give me your number,” Keith says after a moment.

“Why?” Lance asks on reflex. Very quickly he wants to smack himself for being a fool.

Keith smiles wryly. “Well, I dunno. Once I emotionally recover from you breaking and entering into my apartment, I might decide I want to press charges. Better get your number just in case.”

Lance laughs. He takes the offered phone, punching in his number and contact, putting a heart after his name after only a beat of hesitation.

“I’ll text you,” Keith says, walking Lance to the door. For the first time since he discovered Lance hiding in his kitchen, he looks slightly nervous. “If, um. If that’s okay.”

“I’d like that,” Lance says softly. Keith’s gentle look makes something hot brew in his belly, butterflies fluttering and making his arms and legs tingle. He’s had crushes before, and he’s absolutely no stranger to finding someone hot, but this feels…different. Almost —

“Lance?” For the second time, Hunk’s voice startles Lance out of making goo-goo eyes at Keith, poking his head out of his actual apartment, right across the door. “I thought I heard you out here — wait.” Hunk’s dark eyes narrow, and he looks Lance up and down. He holds his gaze for a second, then bursts out laughing. “Keith, pal,” he wheezes, “please tell me my dumbass best friend didn’t break into your house.”

Keith grins. “He did!”

“No fuckin’ way! Lance, dude, oh my God —”

“Easy and reasonable mistake! Fuck off!”

———

Hours later, cozy on Hunk’s couch, he gets a text from an unknown number.

from: unknown

i’ve decided i won’t press charges for breaking and entering.

Lance laughs, quickly adding the number to his contacts.

to: keith <3

thank you, oh merciful one.

Lance is left on read for long enough that he’s almost offended, but luckily a text pops in before he can get really mad.

from: keith <3

don’t get too relieved yet, lance.

from: keith <3

there are other charges i’m going to press.

A real stab of fear pierces Lance’s heart.

to: keith <3

u best be joking it was an ACCIDENT

to: keith <3

i have DYSLEXIA

to: keith <3

this is DYSLEXIPHOBIC

Before Lance can really work himself up, though, Keith finishes his thought.

from: keith <3

i have to report you for theft

from: keith <3

cus aside from sandwich ingredients, i think you stole my heart

Lance couldn’t stop his giggle if he tried. It’s besotted and stupid and halfway-drunk, Jesus. Lance is embarrassed for himself.

from: keith <3

oh my god that is the most embarrassing thing i’ve ever typed and sent

from: keith <3

i’m begging you to purge it from your memory

to: keith <3

i’ll make you a deal

Lance takes a deep breath, steeling himself before sending. It feels strange to be on the other end of a pickup line — Lance can’t say he minds.

to: keith <3

you go out with me, and i’ll never mention how embarrassing you are to another soul

from: keith <3

…

from: keith <3

i’ve only known you for a day, and i know you’re lying to me

Lance snorts. That’s a fair assumption. Lance was lying. He’s actually debating waking Hunk up to show him these texts instead of waiting until tomorrow morning, but Keith doesn’t need to know that.

from: keith <3

but, yeah. i’ll go out with you.

from: keith <3

…tomorrow?

Lance grins. He has a good feeling about this.

to: keith <3

see you then, hot not-intruder :)

———

based on this video

#been waiting to write this one #vld #voltron #lance #lance mcclain #keith #keith kogane #klance #pre klance #flirting #meetcute #tall keith #hunk & lance #modern au #broganes #fluff and humour #my writing #fic #longpost

[ladykailitha]

The People That See You Part 4

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Eddie eyed the table critically.

“Hey, Will,” he said. “You think this fight will be wrapped up in twenty minutes?” He liked calling on the younger Wheeler because he was a good DM and was better at knowing how long things would take.

Will looked around at the table and then nodded. “About that, maybe a little more if people take longer to decide their move.”

“Dustin,” Eddie said. “You just took your turn, would you go tell Sir Steve that we’re nearing our break?”

Dustin saluted and went dashing up the stairs.

“Steve!” he called, bounding into the front room like a jack rabbit on crack.

Steve looked up from his book.

“Since when do you wear glasses?” Dustin asked pointing at his face.

Steve sighed and took them off, setting them on the table next to him. “Since I’ve been bashed around so much my right eye has decided it doesn’t want to focus anymore.”

“Eddie says it’ll be about twenty minutes until the fight is over.”

Steve nodded and stood up. He took the lasagna out of the fridge and popped into the oven Steve had kept warm. He turned around to see Dustin staring at him.

“Don’t you have to get back to the game or whatever?” he asked, shouldering past the youth.

“Not for awhile,” Dustin muttered. “I took my turn.”

“Okay...” he said, eyeing him. “So what do you want?”

“You’re in love with Eddie.” It wasn’t a question and Steve was reminded of this one’s ego.

“Doesn’t mean he feels the same,” Steve said, shaking his head.

Dustin just shook his head. Steve could be so stubborn. He went back downstairs yelling, “What did I miss?”

Steve thought back to all his interactions with Eddie and might have to concede that the little punk had a point. He hated it when that happened. It did nothing to temper the ego.

*

He heard the thundering of feet and began cutting the lasagna. He set aside the largest piece and then let everyone else dig in, choosing the piece they wanted.

Erica spotted the other piece on the counter. “That one for you?”

Steve shook his head. “I’ve already eaten. This is for Eddie.”

Just then Eddie came into the kitchen. “Ahh, Stevie, you shouldn’t have.”

Steve laughed. “Yes, I did.” He grabbed the slice and on his way through the crowd ruffled Dustin’s hair. “Otherwise these buttheads would have taken it all before you had a chance to grab a slice.”

“Hey!” Dustin protested.

“No, no,” Eddie said. “I can see that.” He leaned closer and whispered, “Are you sure you’ve eaten?”

“Yeah, I made myself a sandwich about an hour ago when I wasn’t sure how much longer you were going to be.”  

Eddie nodded and dug into the lasagna. He hummed happily. “Fuck, Steve this is so good.”

“I made the noddles, too,” Steve said happily. “It took me a couple of days to perfect it, but I think it turned out great.”

Gareth looked at him in awe. “How the hell did you learn how to cook like this?”

Steve shrugged. “I had to. My parents aren’t around and I played three different sports, so it was either eat out all the time and hurt my playing or I learn how to cook myself and make sure I ate healthy.”

There was a couple people who shifted nervously. It was one thing to hear of the neglect second or third hand, but it was something else to hear King Steve talking about having to fend for himself or perish.

Suddenly Will was there pestering Eddie about the latest battle and just like that the tension was broken.

Steve mouthed ‘Thank you.’ And Will just nodded.

*

After everyone had gone but Eddie, Steve flopped on the couch, exhausted.

Eddie sat down more gently next to him. “You do know, you don’t have to do this, right?”

“No, I enjoy it,” Steve said. “I really do. Hosting is the one thing that’s mine. My mother ‘hosted’ but in a way that meant she held court while she paid everyone else to do the actual work. But taking care of people, making sure they’re having fun, that there is enough food or drink, that’s all me. I love that.”

“I’ll give you that,” Eddie said. “I don’t think I’ve seen a happier group of people than the ones that just left.”

Steve grinned. “Good.” He leaned his head so close to Eddie’s that he was almost resting on his shoulder. “I have an ulterior motive, though.”

Eddie twisted to look at him. “What do you mean?”

“I knew that if I wanted to date you, I would have to win over the Hellfire Club,” Steve whispered.

Eddie’s eyes went wide. “And now?”

“I think I am an overwhelming success, don’t you think?” Steve batted his eyelashes at him.

“You most certainly are,” Eddie said, cupping Steve cheek. “But I would said yes with or without them, you know?”

Steve lifted his head and Eddie bent down to meet him, their lips meeting for the first time. It was slow and sweet, gentle.

“I wanted them to like me,” Steve murmured when the broke off the kiss. “Because they’re important to you. And because you’re already part of my friends.”

“You win,” Eddie said with a grin. “I can’t stop you when you set your heart on something.”

“Well, I’d hope so,” Steve said after another kiss. “Because you are the biggest thing I’ve set my heart on.”

“I love you, too, Stevie,” Eddie murmured.

“Good,” Steve said, and gently lowered them on to the couch to continue kissing.

Eddie couldn’t believe his luck. He knew had all these arguments about how this wouldn’t work, couldn’t work. But he didn’t care. He had the best boy in the world in his arms and he was going to keep him.

Brian was going to be insufferable.

Tag List: @itsfreakingbats @colorful565 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @grtwdsmwhr

For some reason Tumblr isn’t properly tagging so all I can say is I tried.

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #corroded coffin #angst #ladykailtiha writes

[toothfa-1-ry]

["camera is rolling in 3-2-1 action"]

["who was your greatest love and why did you fall inlove with them?"] -Mark Lee

GENRE: Interview format, angst, fluff(?)

PAIRING: Mark x FemReader

WARNINGS: Swear words

A/N: very very inspired by those "who was your greatest love and why" kind of reels and I might make this a series but then again I might not :>

(✧)

["okay- the camera is rolling. You can start now."

"Who was your greatest love and why did you fall inlove with them?"]

Mark's eyes widen as he awkwardly begins to laugh: "Oh wow- that is a deep question"

[he continues laughing awkwardly, looking around his surroundings]

Mark scratches his neck: "um- yea my greatest love huh"

[he pauses for a while and lets out a soft sigh]

Mark says with absolute certainty before nervously laughing: "My greatest love was definitely my college girlfriend."

Mark mutters, embarrassed: "god- she might see this"

["what was her name?"]

Mark pauses for another while and lets out a small laugh thinking about her: "her name was y/n. She..she was really pretty. With the prettiest smile"

Mark gives a small nod: that's how I remember her.

["how did you guys meet?"]

Mark unscrews the water bottle as he says: we met through one of my friend in college. She was basically a friend of a friend.

Mark slowly keeps the water bottle down as he says softly: I mean that's how she met me. I had already seen her once, before in campus. I guess you could say that she had this sort of attraction to her.

["were you attracted to her? At first sight"]

Mark's laughs again: yea. I was very attracted to her. That's why my roomate introduced us, because I couldn't stop talking about her at 3 am apparently.

["what was she like?"]

"she..she was like- sorry" Mark mumbled a apology as we stopped and waited for a few minutes "She was like rest to me."

[Awkward silence]

"Oh god wow that sounded way better in my head I swear" Mark laughs again "let me explain what I meant...She was my place of comfort.

"She was the only person who I could really not try to be anything or anyone else. I didnt need to try to be special or anything, I could just be me. So yea..she was sort of my place of rest"

Mark's smile slowly fades away as he looks at his hands: "I was a music major and she well she was a history major"

he continues: "god- I remember her being really smart with these glasses which she would never wear" he shakes his head letting out a chuckle.

Mark contemplates saying something for a while:"I used to uh- overwork myself ? Back then in college before I met her I used to go even 3 days without sleeping. Was practically a zombie but after meeting her. I felt human again."

Mark looks around nervously unsure of whether to say or not: she reminded me to live...and to love. To live my life to the fullest and love to the fullest.

["when did you realise that you loved her?"]

Mark lets out a soft sigh: "uh so- well..I- this is gonna make me sound like a jerk"

Mark grimaces slightly before letting out a small laugh: I uh- actually forgot our date this one time."

[the staff gasp]

Mark quickly says: "I know..pretty shitty of me but I can explain! No I swear-"

"I was up late all night doing my assignments and I couldn't sleep not even one bit. Like- the entire night just consisted of coffee and then morning rolled up but by that time i had fast asleep. Completely gone, in snooze land, wasted but in a sleep sense and not a drunk sen-"

["let me guess. You missed the date"]

Mark grimaces: "yea..I sorta did. And i felt awful. I still do"

"anyways next thing I know I'm wide awake remembering our date, I look at the time and I'm already an hour late"

Mark laughs: "I was getting ready to meet her and there she was- she was right infront of me holding a bowl of soup in my apartment just as I was getting ready to go out and meet her"

Mark's smile turns melancholy, his eyes turn nostalgic : "there she was infront of me, not angry at me for missing our date. God- she was there worried for me"

"she was all dressed up but there she was in my apartment scolding me for not taking care of myself, scolding me for not eating well."

[staff asked "what about the date?"]

Mark begins to laugh: "that's what I asked her to. She began scolding me even more saying that my health is more important than a silky date for her. She said that any moment with me feels like date and that she didn't care of I missed the date if it means taking care of my health."

Mark suddenly grows quiet: "but I knew it did matter. Even though we spend time together it wasn't exactly a date. Not a proper one anyways. But she didn't care about that."

"yea. I guess you could say I realised I loved her that day. I realised loved her so much, and that she loves me too. So much"

["something about her that you can't forget/miss"]

"honestly.." Mark paused he looked unsure of what to say or rather if he should say it.

"everything, I miss everything."

["everything?"]

"everything." Mark repeated firmly. "From the way she talked to the way she looked at me. I really miss her scolding me to go to sleep or to eat my meals. That's why I always remind my friends to eat and sleep well yknow. That way you know someone cares."

"she cared for me" Mark smiled sadly and sighed

["what happened?"]

Mark doesn't look up, he stays quiet for a while: "I happened"

["you happened?"]

Mark remains quiet

....

...

"I always- I was always lacking. I was always insecure. I was insecure about me, us. I was afraid"

Mark lets out a soft sight as he shakes his head: "she was amazing. Absolutely perfect, and perfect people deserve other perfect people. Perfect people like her dont deserve half cracked wreck downed people like me"

Mark looks uncomfortable as he mumbles softly: "she deserved more than me. And i- deep down. Even when I asked her out, even when I ask her to be my girlfriend. Deep down I knew that she deserved more than me."

"she was like the sun. And I was like one of the 8 planet's-

Mark lets out a scoff: God who am I kidding? I wasn't even a planet... I was just a piece of rock floating near around her. I was like Pluto, miles away from her, revolving around her. I needed her warmth, I wanted her warmth. But my existence was nothing compared to hers.

["you broke up with her?"]

Mark pauses, looking down to his shoes, he fidgets uncomfortably: "yea. I did. I ended the things between us. I ended us. Because why should I stop her from meeting someone who actually deserves her ynow? Who actually is..who actually is worthy of her. Someone who isn't me"

"did I love her? Of course I did, did I ever love anyone else like I did to her? No. Never. I could never love somebody the way I loved y/n. She was my greatest love for a reason and she'll always be my greatest love"

"always"

["if you guys could get back together, if you had another chance with her, would you take it?"]

Mark is left with his thoughts, he remains quite. The entire studio remains eerily quite

"no"

["no?"]

Mark doesn't say anything again for a few minutes before showing a sad smile : "no. I won't get back together with her. If anything I'd go back into the past and make sure she never crosses roads with me."

"I caused her so much pain. I caused myself so much pain. I dont want us to feel that pain all over again. We were both young, a little too foolish, far too naive. We didn't know what was going on, and it was beautiful.. but all things beautiful also have some pain in them"

["even though you miss her? You still won't give the both of you a chance again?"]

Mark looks straight at the camera's, his eyes sad but his voice firm: "you see, she didn't deserve my love. She deserved the stars and the moon and I couldn't give her that. She deserved the sky infinite and the entire earth"

"she deserved everything. But she didn't deserve to be stuck with someone like me"

"I didn't deserve someone like her."

"so no. Even if I had the chance to get back with her I wouldn't, for the same reasons why I left her. I was lacking"

Mark looks away from the camera, he touches his hands looking at his fingers.

He finally looks up again: "and I still am. I'm still lacking for for, I'm still lacking to be worthy of her"

["okay and cut-" Well done everyone!"]

Mark claps his hands, shaking the tears that were forming at the back of his eyes.

"that was great everyone!" He laughs, complimenting the staff. Maybe by laughing and smiling he could forget everything. He could pretend that he's okay.

["hey Mark?"]

Mark looks up at one the staff as he wears his jacket: "yea?"

["thanks for sharing that story with us man"]

Mark just smiles as he picks up his water bottle, walking out of the studio.

He waves goodbye to the producer who was busy watching the footage: See you later Rennie

"see you later Mark!" The producer waves him goodbye

Mark's says goodbye to all the staff again as he left, unaware that two of the younger staff were talking about him.

["hey did you realise that he's the only one who calls our producer by her first name?"]

["Leave it Chenle..producer and him are probably friends. Just stick to reading the script properly"]

["I'm just saying Jisung....anyways. Whose the next person we're gonna shoot?"

["some guy named Huang Renjun"]

"okay! Huang Renjun? Yes? Your coming up next. Please sit here comfortably and one of our staffs will briefly explain what we're doing today" the producer ushers Renjun towards the seat in the middle as she shoots him a smile

"hey kid- brief the guy about what were doing today okay?" The producer says to one of the youngest staff members who was to say the least, very shocked but very ready

"you feeling nervous? Yea? A little? Haha don't worry"

"okay so basically we're asking a few people a question. All you have to do is answer them honestly and well yea that it's"

The young male nods as he sits down in the chair in the middle of the room full of camera's and staff. He looks around the dark grey room and flashes a smile to the camera, signalling that he was ready.

"camera is rolling in 3-2-1 action" "who was your greatest love and why did you fall in love with them?"

#nct dream #fluff #nct #nct fluff #mark lee #nct mark #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #nct dream fic #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #nct dream imagines #mark lee x reader #mark lee fic #mark lee angst #mark lee fanfic #mark lee fluff #mark x reader #nct fic #nct dream scenarios #nct dream aus #nct haechan #nct chenle #nct jisung #greates love #first love #mark lee drabbles #mark lee au #mark fluff #mark angst