#How to Tape Multiple X-Spider

[giuliettagaltieri]

Project: Eros

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Synthezoid!Reader

Synopsis: It does not feel the same without your wings and halo and you turn to science to help you gain them back. But despite your angelic appearance, you find yourself allured by the weakness and carnality of the flesh.

Warning: Innuendos, manhandling, size kink, virgin reader, explicit smut, unprotected smut, belly bulging, wing pulling, creampie

Word Count: 5435

3 of 3

It was not difficult for you to fit into the Spider Society.  Usually, you spend your day beside Miguel, aiding him in delegating tasks to the spider recruits.  Sometimes, you would just go around the HQ, chatting and meeting new people. 

But something else has been taking your time as of lately.

Somehow it just doesn’t feel right to you that your wings and halo are both missing.  You felt utterly bare without them and you often found yourself substituting their absence with an obnoxious feather coat that Lyla chose personally.  She said that you too should have a coat like her and you were just happy to accept it as it was very warm and comfortable. 

Lyla was enthusiastic in volunteering to create the devices for you but you wanted to at least design them out, starting from the type of material to use.

You were thinking that the molecules to build the feathers could be made from keratin-based nanofibers.  That would mimic the characteristics of real wings.  It would be durable and hydrophobic, which will ensure that you will not fall to your death despite any weather.

When you told Miguel that you wanted to have the wing socket implanted on your back, he was rather skeptical, telling you that it would be dangerous to have such a large target attached to you.

“Miguel, if you lost an arm, would you want a cybernetic implant like the Winter Soldier or would you settle for a retractable blade like Razor Fist?”  You glared at him hard.  “Both would work fine in battle but it wouldn’t be the same, would it?”

Lyla stops whatever she’s doing and stares at Miguel critically.

He grumbles his reply and just reaches for the tape measure lying around on the table he’s leaning on.  “Alright, but I’ll be leading the team.”  He twirls his finger.  “Turn around for me.”

You grin at Lyla who resumes her work with an amused smile.

Besides, you are not automatically going to become a battle type synthezoid like J.A.R.V.I.S. Vision.  You would rather help Miguel through an earpiece.  You can barely lift a liter of bottled water for five minutes, what makes you think that you’ll be able to throw a proper punch?

Perhaps you’ll get there but you’d rather work behind screens for now.

Giddily, you do as Miguel says and you show him your back.

“Drop the coat.”  He grunts.  “Honestly, you look like an oversized flamingo in this.”

“Hey!”  Lyla yells but she gets ignored.

You try not to squirm away from Miguel’s touch as his fingers brushed against your skin, the cold tape measure being pressed flat on your skin that was exposed in your sundress and Miguel hums.

“Alright, I have a couple ideas how we could make the wings lighter.  We could attach it just below your scapula.  I don’t want to touch your spine as much as possible so we could perhaps sit them a few millimeters away on each side of your lumbar vertebrae.”  His finger brushes down to the said location and you can’t help the chills that ran through you.

Miguel seems to notice and his eyes dart to the back of your head.  “We could attach it to multiple ribs to support the weight.”  He runs his finger on your back, his finger digging to the cotton sundress he bought for you.  Another shiver and this time, he did not miss it as he was already waiting for it.

You gasp when two strong hands slammed on your waist.  Immediately, you were squirming, trying to get out of his hold.

“I knew it.”  He rasps.  “You’re ticklish.”

“No!”  It came out as a squeal when Miguel wriggled his fingers on your side.  “Stop it!”  Your eyes fill with tiny tears as uncontrollable laughter bubbled out of you.

A call on Lyla’s screen stole Miguel’s attention and you collapsed to his forearm that he used to cage around your midriff.

“It’s a call from Earth-199999.”  Lyla beams at you.  “Heya, Peter!”

Peter was shown on the screen, not in his suit but a plain tee and flannel.  “I figured out the mechanism of the cas- 3D printer.  I also broke down the organic fibers used in Y/N’s musculature.  I could send it to you now.”  Loud clacking was heard from Peter’s end and a small box appeared on Lyla’s screen.

“Got it.  Thanks, Peter!  This is a ton of help.”  Lyla waves at him and the screen shuts off.

You finally got out of Miguel’s hold and you picked up the coat.

“How does it look, Lyla?  You think we could bond it to keratin?”  Miguel asks.

Lyla rubs her chin and opens more screens.  He glowing hands dancing in the air, creating and breaking molecular bond structures.  “If we put this here, and replace this with that…Pretty sure we can do it.”

You cheer.  “And how soon can we do the implant?”  You ignore Miguel’s disapproving look.

“We have to start from scratch and grow the material ourselves.  We could perhaps harvest after four days.  Then we have to assemble the wings from the bones to the epidermis.”  Lyla scratches her head, processing the data.  “With the team we have, that could take two whole days.”

“Make it three.”  Miguel says.  “I’ll be the one to put it together.  No one else.  I want it to be as precise as possible.”  He turns to you.  “You’ll be able to wait that long, won’t you, firefly?”

Aware that it was more of a rhetorical question, you simply nod at him.

“And my halo?”  You ask with your eyes wide and expectant.  “You’ll let me help design it, right?”

Miguel simply nods.  “We can work on it after dinner.”  A loud beeping from his device told you that he’s once again needed by the spiderverse.

He excuses himself as you stay and help Lyla around in preparing the materials.

“Wow, I never heard him say something so healthy for a long time.”  Lyla hums as she glitches from one of her screens to the other.  “He almost didn’t take proper meals and would rather nap in his office before working again.”

You tut disapprovingly, slipping on a pair of protective gloves and safety goggles.

“If he keeps on doing that, he’d drop dead by 40.”  You say as you pour a murky solution in a separatory funnel to separate the protein biopolymers that you need.

“Maybe even sooner.”  Lyla replies, half joking.  “But he looks more rested since you arrived.”

You smile at her bashfully.  “I’m glad to hear that but I’d also hate to get in the way of his work.”

Lyla waves at you dismissively.  “Don’t worry!  I developed a program to create better roster depending on the availability of the spiders to give Miguel more time with you.”  She glitches right in front of you and shows a pixelated clipboard that shows the statistics.  “It’s been a week since you arrived and I have been running this since and so far, everything is going so well.”

You squint at the data, more and more impressed the longer you stare at it.  “That’s really efficient of you, Lyla.”

She spins the clipboard before it vanishes, smirking proudly.  “It’s in our code.” 

Working side by side with Lyla felt like the most natural thing to do, a synergy being created with your dynamics.

Meows Morales and Spider-Guin dropped by to have Guin’s suit repaired in the lab next to you and they hang around your lab for the meantime.

The purring of Meows Morales might have been the cutest thing you saw so far since you are brought in the physical world.

Both of them fell asleep on your lap as you tried to design a device that could project a halo.

Before taking the train to snoozeville, Meows randomly asked why you’d stop at that when you can use it as a hoop or further manipulate it into any badass weapon.

It was not a bad concept, although it sounds exactly like a bona fide Meows Morales idea. 

You told Miguel about it and he considers it while chewing on tuna, you’re starting to introduce proteins in your diet now.

“I suppose it could be helpful.”  He swallows.  “But that would only encourage you to do crime fighting—which I will never allow, by the way—so no.”

You only shrug as you chew on peas.  “Maybe one day, when my muscles are strong and coordinated enough.”

Miguel dismisses it quickly and you just let him win.  He did such a good job in cooking dinner, you just had to concede.

The topmost part of the building was a private floor for Miguel.  Well, Miguel and you now.

You tried to convince him to let you sleep on the pods that took inspiration from Tokyo’s capsule hotels.  It’s a space where thousands of spider-people could crash for a night or two but as you are staying longer than a couple nights, Miguel offers the extra room in his private floor.

The rest of the days were a blur. 

As Miguel made your wings in the lab, you had to spend your days in the gym, just next to the training grounds.  You wanted to be involved in making your wings but Miguel thinks it was more important for you to build muscle strength and endurance at the moment.

If your back is too weak, you would be slouching under the weight of the wings that have an expanse of five meters.  Originally, it was supposed to be bigger to carry your weight but Miguel made modifications that will make the material lighter and more aerodynamic so it’d really work despite the smaller size.

It was finally time to surgically attach the wings on your back and Dr. Stephen Strange’s skills were once again needed.

Miguel reassures him that the Spider Society will watch over his universe for the rest of the surgery.  Strange wasn’t easily persuaded.  He was rather skeptical and Miguel’s hostility towards him wasn’t helping either but when spider-people started filling the sanctum to protect Earth-199999 upon Miguel’s order, he was reassured to certain levels.

The operation concerns multiple bone, nerve, and tissue alignment, something that Stephen should have been familiar with, had it not been enormous wings that needed to be attached to your back.

Nevertheless, the team succeeded.  The sixteen-hour operation went so well that they had to do a couple reality checks to see that what they just accomplished was really real.

You had to stay in bed for another week to allow your stitches to heal.

During that time, Miguel was able to give you the device that projects your halo, it came in the form of a heavily bejeweled barrette.  You adored the device which looked more like a jewelry to you.

When you took your first step with the additional weight on your back, Miguel was by your side, ready to catch you as you held on to the parallel bars that helped you regain your balance and coordination.

After that, you are back in the gym to continue building overall strength.  You’d hate to have a bad gait and just let the beautiful individually created feathers drag on the floor as you walked.  They’d eventually get dirty and damaged.

Your body has healed and your latissimus dorsi and trapezius are used to the wings’ weight that you unconsciously lift them in the air and curl them around yourself when accidental explosions from the other labs startle you.

When you flapped your enormous wings and perched yourself on Miguel’s shoulder after a lizard slithered itself on the hallway outside of Miguel’s office, he knew you were ready to attempt your first flight.

Miguel stood next to you in the training area, on an elevated block that resembled a building.  There’s a lot of it in the area and they’re meant to let the new spiders get the hang of swinging around downtown. 

But you’re not exactly going to swing through them, you’ll be jumping off them and hopefully you will not crash and literally break a leg.  Although you doubt Miguel will ever let that happen.

“Go on.”  He tells you when you kneel on the edge to look down at the sheer drop.  “I’ll be watching, don’t worry.”

“Don’t save me too soon though.”  You say as you stand up and brush the dust off your knee.

He just nods, watching you breathe deeply.

“Don’t be scared.” 

“It’s impossible not to!”  You whine.

‘’But do it anyway.”  He crosses his arms, watching you stall around, fixing your flowy dress, preening your wings with your shaking hands.  “Just jump!”

“Alright, alright!” 

You can feel the rush of your blood, making your entire body hot, and your heart, it’s beating erratically.

“You look like you’re about to have a panic attack.”  Miguel comments, flatly.

Just to spite him, you throw yourself on the edge.  You weren’t really prepared yet, were you?  But of course, you’re too stubborn to admit that to him.

You open up your wings and the resistance to air is so dramatic that your breath hitches upon impact, you are still descending but slower.  Your fist clenched as you flapped your wings until your feet were safely planted on the ground.

There’s a soft thud behind you.  But you did not get to turn your head when two large hands wrapped around your waist and your feet left the ground once more as you were twirled around by an excited looking Miguel.

“You did so well!  And on your first try too.”  He laughed and you can’t help but laugh along with him.

His eyes crinkled as he grinned stupidly at you.  The light from the setting sun shone brightly behind you, making your halo glint and you, you look more angelic than ever.  He clears his throat and he sets you back down to stand on your own feet.

“I wanna go again!”  You cheer.

Miguel allowed you a few more times and with every try, you were able to get better and better.  On the last one, you soared through the air and land safely on another building.

“Did you see how I stuck that landing?”  You asked Miguel again for what seemed like the third time that night.

He wipes the sheen from the steak he had just eaten from his lips and nods at you.  “It was absolute perfection, firefly.”  He sips on the wine, amused at how you suddenly turn bashful, smiling down at your own plate as you push a sautéed mushroom.

“You really think so?”

Miguel pressed his lips to a thin line as you bat your eyes at him. 

What exactly are you doing?  Is this a deliberate attempt to stir him up?  Or are you doing this without even noticing the effect you had on him?

“I know so, mi princesa.”

Your eyes go round at the nickname, your movement turns more skittish as you play with the halo device that you put atop the table, giving your head a brief rest from its weight.

It has become a routine for you to clean up the table as it was Miguel who cooks for you.  And perhaps it was just his imagination getting the best of him but Miguel could have sworn there was more sway on your hips as you carried the plates to the sink, the movement more sensual.

He cups his jaw as he watches you clean the dishes.  Miguel found himself leaning back on his chair.  You’re just so effortlessly beautiful, aren’t you?  He watched your foot slip out of your fluffy slippers and rub at your calf.

“I can finish cleaning up.”  Miguel offers.  “You must be tired.”

You shake your head, smiling so warmly at him, he almost felt bad for the sinful thoughts that ran through his head.  “It’s okay, I’m almost done anyway.”

“Your back is stiff.”  He comments, his brows drawing to a frown, wondering if you strained yourself too much.  The curve of your back turns softer after hearing his words and he just watches you adjust your posture.  “Do you want to take a warm shower?”

You roll your eyes.  “It broke, remember?”  It was all you ever did when you arrived, taking warm showers in your very own bathroom and eventually, it gave up on you.

Miguel gets up to hand you a towel to dry your hands.  “You can use mine.”  He does not falter, meeting your eyes despite how swiftly they snapped to him.  The look he gives you is heavy and you remain staring, afraid you’ll miss something by just looking away for a quarter second.  “Frankly, I’m getting a little tired of this roommate setup we have going on.”  He’s no longer talking about your sleeping arrangements and he thinks you know it too.

 “Is that so?”  You gently put the plate down.   “Why don’t you do something about it then?”  You whisper in a tone he never heard you use before, everything about it so carnal.

The towel from your hand drops to the hardwood floor as Miguel pulls you by the waist to slam your chest against his.  He studies your features before devouring your lips.  The squeal you give when he lifts your body so your bum is sitting on the countertop is swallowed by his hungry kisses.

Miguel groans softly when you card your fingers through his hair, your nails gently running through his scalp. 

Gossamer threads connect your lips as you part.  His pupils are dilated, his breathing heavy.

“Should I stop?”  He rasps out.

You continue to play with his hair, curling and pinching his dark strands on your delicate fingers.  Unable to trust your voice, you only shake your head ‘no’, a flash of vulnerability and desperation was there and Miguel can see them very well.

You have no idea where he’s taking you but you trust him enough not to care.  It was only when gravity held you tightly in her clutches that you started to panic but the soft mattress under you answered your questions.

“What happened to the warm shower?”  You snicker at Miguel who is trying to reach for the zipper on your back but your wings get in the way.

“Later.  Didn’t want your flavor to get washed off.”

You grimace and even let out a giggle.  “That’s disgusting.”

A wet stripe was licked on your neck and that was all the answer you got as he was now losing his patience with your dress.  Until finally, he just ops to grip your collar and you hear the unmistakable sound of the fabric tearing.  “You are so buying me a new dress, mister.”  You jab a finger to his chest.

His nose skims your throat down to your chest, humming deeply.  “Anything you want, baby.  Anything you want.”

Goosebumps once again erupt on your skin when his lips press a soft kiss on the fat of your chest, you gasp softly when the tips of his fangs press on you but not quite breaking your skin, only grazing teasingly. 

Miguel meets your eyes before he takes a hardened bud between his lips.

“Oh!”  Your hand flies to his shoulder, surprised with the sensation he caused.  “Miggy, that’s—Oh!”

His hand scoops you up, lifting your torso off the bed, and he hunches over you as he sucks hard, as if trying to draw milk.

Your eyes squeeze hard when he switches to the other bud, leaving the other one all stiff, tingly, and wet with slobber.

Your stomach almost cramps up when Miguel leaves a trail of kisses on it as he brings your thighs up and presses them on the map of skin he was just kissing.

He chuckles when he finally sees you.

“What are you laughing about?”  You almost whine, brows pulled to the cutest frown.

Miguel presses a kiss on your thigh and brushes a kiss on your almost pulsating clit, making your attempt to press your legs close unsuccessful, only trapping him further.

“I’m only admiring, mi princesa.”

You try to hold your frown but the bastard can be pretty charming if he wanted to.

Shyly, you part your legs for him.  He nips on your inner thigh, making you shift your hips but his large and heavy hand lands on the back of your thighs to keep you pressed on the mattress, your body sinking deeper on it under Miguel’s hold.

“Don’t run away from me now.”  He looks at you and slowly lifts his hand off, watching closely if you’ll do as he says.  Your eyes are on him when he raises the same hand to his lips and presses his index and middle finger flat on his tongue and they emerge slightly glistening.  You follow them as they move slower until they disappear and next thing you know, you can feel them.

Warm, rough, and big.

You hold your breath when they brush on your lips down there, parting them softly.

“Eyes on me.”  Miguel says sternly and your eyes snap up to meet his.

You let out a soft hum when Miguel’s thumb slides on your slit to gather your slick and rubs careful circles on your puckering clit.  The thrill was making your back tingle, and you jolt when his middle finger slides inside you.  When he curls it upwards, you throw your head back against the pillows, lips parted so beautifully.

“I said, eyes on me.”  Miguel growls.

Reluctantly, you look back to him, letting your elbows support your torso to take him in better.  Your brows are drawn together again when he rubs your twitching walls.  Your wings shift, almost looking like they’re about to flap in excitement.

“Miggy.”  You breathe out, feeling your toes curl up when he adds another finger.  “Gentle, please.”

A loud squelch, when he pulls them out halfway before plunging them back in, makes you bite your lip.

Miguel grins cockily, encouraged by your hums and broken whimpers.  His fingers worked with precision.  Every stroke never fails to earn him a breathy moan, his veins popping out as he works your tightness.

Every motion felt like a warning, like the sand on an hourglass, ever falling, ever filling.  You know that something is going to happen to your body soon, very very soon.  And you find yourself chasing it.

It felt like falling.

There was a tickle on your stomach that you can only associate with the feeling of dropping from a sheer height and it travels to your legs and your spine.  You scream as your back arches off the bed, your nails digging on the toughness of Miguel’s biceps.

“There you go.”  Miguel groans, his fingers picking up the pace, your clit buzzing under his warm thumb.

Tears sprung on your eyes as the sensation garbled up and swallowed you whole.  You were reaching for Miguel before you knew it.  You whimper when his fingers slide out of you, your juices leaking on his sheets and smearing on your skin as he wrapped an arm on your waist.

He presses a kiss on your shoulder and you wrap your arm on his neck, wanting only to be as close to him as physically possible.

“Too much?”  He whispers between kisses.

You put a distance between you so you can look at him but meeting his eyes only made your cheeks warm, reminding Miguel that he’s touching a virgin pure and he never felt more ravenous.

“Mm—no.  Don’t wanna stop, Miggy.”  You say, bashfully, more to his chest than him as you are still unable to meet his eyes.

That was all he needed to hear.

Miguel was already guiding you to lie back down on the bed.  But a gentle twitching of your brows has him halting his movements.

“What’s wrong?”  He asks quickly, his eyes scanning your body for any possible source of your discomfort.

You shift your back uncomfortably and he watches you reposition on the mattress before you look at him apologetically.  “Sorry.  My wings-”

Miguel doesn’t let you finish as he was already manhandling you so you are lying on your stomach.  A soft smack on your bum has you gasping.

“Miguel!”

He only chuckles before two large hands grip on your waist, his fingers are trying to memorize the feeling of your skin under his touch and you just let him.  Miguel lifts your hips up and pulls you flush against him.

Your tiny fingers search his bed blindly for the enormous pillows and when you found one, you pull it underneath you, where your torso collapses.  He watches as you smooshed your cheek against it. 

You’re too adorable for your own good.

“Not falling asleep, are you?”  He asks, purposefully making his voice louder.  “It’s rude to fall asleep while fucking.”

He saw your wings twitching, the tips swooshing to hide your face from him.  “I’m not!”  It came muffled.

The calloused surface of his palms explored your back, his brows rising appreciatively when your entire body responds to him as he gently rubs the base of your wings.

“Like it?”

You shift your wings and you look at him from your shoulder, your eyes following every stroke.  “Mhm.”

The bed dips when he leans down to plant a kiss on the base of your spine.

He grips the back of your thigh and he slides his finger against the slick dripping on your skin.  His cock flares angrily at the sight of you.  Miguel strokes himself and guides the tip to your entrance but he underestimates your wetness as he easily glides, going forward and hitting past your throbbing clit and bumping on the pudge of your belly.

“What-”  You try to take a peek but a firm hand lands just between the base of your wings, keeping you pressed on the pillow. 

Again, you feel the moist warmth brush on your skin but this time, it is lodged on your entrance.

“This might hurt a bit, firefly.”  Miguel says, his voice deep.

Your reaction came swiftly just as Miguel managed to pop the head in.

“M-Miggy!”  You sobbed.

Miguel tried to hush you with his hand rubbing patterns on your waist.  He glances down and now that he does, the size he’s trying to shove in looks ridiculous compared to your stature.

He sinks in slower, too slow for his liking but he’s putting you over his needs at the moment.

You writhe on the pillow trying to muffle your cries, not wanting Miguel to get too worried and eventually pull out.  Your knuckles turn white by how hard your fists gripped the sheets.

“Almost there.”  He murmurs.

“‘S not all in?”  You whine at him, eyes all red and puffy.  “I can’t take more.”

Miguel stops pressing in, withdraws slightly and shallowly thrusts on you.

“I’ll do it in one go.”  He tells you.

It scared you but you figured it would be better, like ripping a band-aid.

You brace yourself for the incoming pain.

He grabs your waist tightly, his blunt nails leaving marks on your stomach.  The shallow thrusts continue, as if he’s building up to it.

It was swift, his cock plunging deep until it kissed your cervix.  You let out a voiceless scream.  Your thighs twitch as you are stretched to your limit.

Miguel reaches for your clenched fist and he slots his large fingers between yours, the other hand reaching to rub on your clit.  He grits his teeth, his willpower thinning.  “You alright?”

There was no response from you and Miguel almost considers pulling out and trying again another time when you raise your head.

“Why’d you stop?”  You ask, your cheeks streaked with tears, your lashes have clumped up, all wet and alluring.

“I didn’t want to hurt you more than I have.”  He says, a soft smile that he reserves only for you was present.

You huff, much to his surprise and you slump your cheeks back on the pillow.

Did you want him to move?

“Should I?”  The cocky grin is back on Miguel’s lips.

You only hum in response.

It was yet again a shallow thrust, he barely moved.

“Miggy-”

“I know, firefly.”  He cuts you off.

And the thrusts eventually grow faster and rougher. 

To the point that the bed groans with the force of Miguel’s movement.

And he makes you take it all, bullies your cunt into the shape of him inside you.

Your breath hitches with every jerk of his hips, your ass jiggling with every motion.

A particular moan is ripped from you when he drags his cock out slowly, letting you feel all of him and he sinks himself right back, his skin slapping against yours.  Your wings flap uncontrollably, every feather shivering.

“Miguel…Miguel.”  His name spills from your swollen lips like a prayer.

And the feeling of falling returns as Miguel pounds on you.  Your velvet walls clamp on him, driving him mad.

Your twitching does not stop and your voice grew louder and almost pleading.  He tilts his head to the side to avoid being hit by your wings and in the spur of the moment, he reached for them and held the base of your wings with a single hand.

The action takes you by surprise that you explode in the purest form of ecstasy. 

Miguel groans and his hips falter for a second. 

You flutter hard around him, wrapping him in your tight heat.  He throws his head back, so lost in your warmth that he almost misses how your essence spray on his meaty thighs.

“Fuck.”  He drawls, watching your quivering thighs as they get soaked.  His grip on your wings tightens and his other hand presses on your back, angling your hips better for him and he plunges his cock inside you, your juices flying and smearing on his abdomen, sliding on the ridges of his stomach. 

A distressed and overstimulated cry leaves you as the flames of eroticism lapped at your skin.

“Y/N—fuck!”  Miguel slams his hips hard and stays there, the head pressed hard against your cervix, almost bruising it, and with a guttural groan, his cum spurts inside you.  Filling spaces you didn’t know were still there, the rest of it spills out, copious amounts dripping down your thighs.

Miguel lets go of your wings and they lay floppily on the bed.  He then reaches to rub your bulging belly, still feeling himself deep inside you and the astonishing load he deposited in your belly that formed a small pooch after he pulls out.

You are too exhausted to question when Miguel scoops you into his arms, carries you to the bathroom and sits you on top of a pristine clean toilet lid.  You admire his frame as he fiddles with the shower.

He really has a really good anatomical structure, doesn’t he?

What a well-defined gluteus maximus.

Miguel wordlessly scoops you in his arms again, pausing only as he double takes to see if that was really his spent on top of the lid.  Something warm trickles on his abdomen and he glances between your legs and that answers his question.

Your feet soon meet the damp bathroom floor and warm water showers on your skin.  Miguel joins you and upon instinct, you lean back on him.

“Did you enjoy yourself?”  He asks softly as he guides you so you are facing him.

“I did.”  You stand on your tippy toes and even then, it was not enough as he had to lean down so you could rest your arms on his shoulders.  “Thank you, Miguel.  Not just for the mind-blowing sex but for taking care of me.”

He chuckles at your words and you can’t help but admire the laugh lines that surround his eyes.  “It’s nothing.  I’d do it all again in a heartbeat.”

“I appreciate it.”  You peck his lips and you turn away from him to grab the shampoo bottle.  “But let’s skip the bedroom activities for now.  I have listed things I’ve been wanting to try.”

He helps lather the shampoo in your hair, giving you a massage while doing so.  “Wouldn’t really need the bedroom as I could just bend you over wherever but what else do you want to do?”

The excited hum you gave almost made him regret asking.  You were waiting for him to ask, goddammit!

“I wanna go wine tasting in a vineyard.”  Huh, that doesn’t sound so bad.  “And get drunk.”

“Ay, por Dios!”

Project: Galatea • Project: Pandora • Project: Eros

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara smut #spiderman 2099 #spiderman across the spider verse #atsv

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╰┈➤ Dumb Games - Bff!Roomie!Jake X Fem!Reader - smut

╰┈➤ Math Problem - StepBro!Jake X Fem!Reader - Smut

When you ask your step brother Jake to help you with your math homework, you didn't expect to find yourself bouncing on his dick instead.

╰┈➤ $ex Tape - Bf!Jake X Fem!Reader - Smut

Jake decides to film a porn tape when you have a quickie. What happens when his friends come back home to find you having sex on the living room couch, and even worse, filming a sex tape?

☣ Park Sunghoon ☣

╰┈➤ Threesome with Jake - Fwb X Fem!Reader - Smut

☣ Kim Sunoo ☣

↻... Oops! Nothing here, come back later or leave a request!

☣ Yang Jungwon ☣

╰┈➤ Making out with Jungwon - Headcanons - Suggestive

╰┈➤ Jungwon teasing you - Short fic - Suggestive / smutty

╰┈➤ Jungwon Being Needy - Short fic - suggestive / smutty

╰┈➤ Mullet!Bf!Jungwon X Fem!Reader - Smut

╰┈➤ Spider-Man Jungwon X Fem!Reader

╰┈➤ Making out with Jungwon pt.2 - Bf!Jungwon X fem!Reader

╰┈➤ Late night texting with needy Jungwon - suggestive

╰┈➤ Jungwon Jerking off when he misses you - smut

╰┈➤ Jungwon Spitting in your mouth - Suggestive

╰┈➤ Bite me - VampireBf!Jungwon X Fem!Reader - Smut

╰┈➤ Hickeys - Boyfriend!Jungwon X Fem!Reader - Suggestive

Jungwon comforts you when you're stressed by a make-out session, letting you take it out on his lips and his neck.

╰┈➤ In The Kitchen - fwb!Jungwon X Fem!Reader - kinda smutty

Your tipsy fwb Jungwon gets jealous when you wear a revealing outfit and decides to remind you who your fwb is.

╰┈➤ No Bra - Bf!Jungwon X Fem!Reader - Suggestive / smutty

Jungwon is stressed and asks y/n to play with her big tits to distract himself. He ends up marking y/n's chest, taking his frustration out on them.

╰┈➤ Practise On Me - Bff!Jungwon X Fem!Reader - smut

You get curious about how to give head, and your best friend, Jungwon, gladly helps you out.

╰┈➤ Teach Me - Bff!Jungwon X Fem!Reader - smut

Your best friend, Jungwon, wants to repay the favour by giving you head.

╰┈➤ Addicted To You - Bff!Jungwon X Fem!Reader - fluff

Your boyfriend, Jungwon, worships your body in front of a mirror after he notices that you're feeling insecure.

╰┈➤ Flushed Cheeks -Bf!Jungwon X Fem!Reader-suggestive smut

You suggest thigh riding and your boyfriend accepts, not knowing it'd lead to desperate dry humping and him cumming in his pants.

╰┈➤ Angry - Bf!Jungwon X Fem!Reader - Smut

You boyfriend can't help but get angry when you keep teasing him non stop throughout the whole night. What happens when you arrive home? He takes out his anger on you by fucking you senseless (angry sex)

╰┈➤ I'm not a Perv, just crushing on you - BroBff!Jungwon - Smut

Your brother's best friend might seem like a pervert, but he's not. He just likes you a little too much not to look down your shirt. What happens when he gets jealous of a guy you flirted with at your family's get together party?

☣ Nishimura Riki ☣

╰┈➤ Wing-Bestie - Bff!Niki X Bff!Reader - Cheesy fluff and angst

Niki has a crush on your sister and you, his best friend, are willing to help him win her heart.

╰┈➤ My Cute, Baby Giraffe - Bf!Niki x Fem!Reader - Fluff

Riki is very tired after a dance practise and all he needs are your cuddles and kisses.

☣ Multiple Members ☣

╰┈➤ Trying consented Somnophilia - Hyung Line - Smut

╰┈➤ Enhypen when you're on your period - 0t7Bf!Enha - Fluff

╰┈➤ Mtl to tease you in bed - Legal Line - Smut

╰┈➤ When you cockblock them - HyungLine - Suggestive

╰┈➤ How they tell u they're in the mood - HyungLine - Suggestive

╰┈➤ Secret naughty things between you - Hyungline - suggestive

╰┈➤ When you get needy when they're gaming - Hyungline - smut

╰┈➤ Your pet interrupting your sexy time - Hyungline - suggestive

╰┈➤ Walking around naked when they're mad - Hyungline - smut

╰┈➤ Nsfw Links - Legal Line (contains jw and sunoo) - Smut !!!

╰┈➤ Enhypen Last Friday night - 0t7!Enha - Suggestive

╰┈➤ Enhypen when your hymen tears - Legal Line - suggestive

╰┈➤ Enhypen Kissing you during an argument - Fluff, Crack

© 2023 kpopfilthandfiction

Please, do not copy, translate or plagiarise any of my works without permission.

However, likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

#enhypen #enhypen masterlist #enha #enhypen smut #jungwon enhypen #yang jungwon #lee heeseung #heeseung enhypen #park jongseong #park jay #jay enhypen #sim jake #sim jaehyun #jake enhypen #park sunghoon #sunghoon enhypen #kim sunoo #sunoo enhypen #nishimura niki #nishimura riki #enhypen niki #enhypen hyung line #sub enhypen #enhypen scenarios #enhypen jake #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen x reader #enhypen x you #enhypen x y/n

[yourmommy600]

Spider love~

Submissive miguel x Dom male reader

Half spider miguel <3

Miguel with a pussy! 🤯

Warning: Smut reader eating miguels pussy reader breaking miguel miguel crying and being a slut

We're just getting straight into this horny beasts!

You liked exploring abandoned buildings with friends or by yourself today. You were doing the same you and your friends spit up in groups. Rihanna Kobi and Jan went one way you leo, and Mason went the other way they were in a room it was dark you felt like you were being watched, but you didn't see anything you got broken up with your friends you didn't mind but that feeling was stronger than ever just minutes later were pinned down to the floor you were surprised it was a half spider

miguel was angry that you were in the building he was staying at but he strangely wanted you to stay Miguel's pussy was wet miguel pinned you to the wall his half spider body's legs taped at the floor miguel got close to your face and he let his claws out threatening to attack y/n if he dared to try and leave "aren't you cute? probably have a nice cock to fill my pussy.." he whispered before getting more aggressive "since you came here you'll have to be punished your cock is mine your going to fuck my pussy!" he growled and bared his fangs you stared at him before your hands made their way to Miguel's waist he exhausted and crumbled into your touch as your hands moved to his cheeks you grin and leaned into his ear "you want it? Tell me.." You hiss miguel was uncontrollably rubbing his pussy against your cock through your pants "yes yes! Fuck my pussy please~!" He begged his spider legs wrapped around your body pulling you closer

You chuckled and unzipped your pants and miguel bit his lip. You were bigger than average. miguel got excited and quickly sat on your cock his hands griped your shoulders he panted heavily as your thick long cock hit his womb miguel rided your cock faster "ahhhh~!" He let out a loud long moan and bit your neck he didn't let his venom go inside you your hand grabbed Miguel's pecs before going down to Miguel's hips where his human body stop before his spider half started "so pretty for a spider" you thought before you managed to knock him back and used that Advantage to destroy Miguel's pussy with your cock he cried as you got rougher with your thrusts "ah- shitttttt~!" He slured what a slut...

You wrapped your arms around Miguel's back, your chin on his collarbone your cock hit his g spot Multiple times making miguel Squirm underneath you "fuckfuckfuck! Ahhhhh yes fuck me cum inside meeee~!" He pleased his mouth wide open he whined the sound of your skin and Miguel's filled the room with your little groans from miguel clawing your back out "mggghhmmm~!" Miguel whined your cock Stretched Miguel's insides you grinned and thrusted harder your cock going deeper inside miguel to the point he could see it in his stomach

Miguel growled and tried to push you away. "your- to fucking deep~!" He cried and clawed your shoulders making you bleed this time "you can take it baby boy.." you said in a calm yet sweet voice miguel bared his fangs in pleasure he calmed down a bit "good boy" you winked playfully before pulling out halfway before slamming back into Miguel's pussy he closed his eyes shut tightly as he bit his hand trying to keep his moans quiet knowing your friends were in the abandoned building to

But like the slut he is he wrapped his arms around your back pulling you in closer "mmmm yes yes please fuck me harder~!!" Miguel practically screamed the pleasure of your cock hitting his g spot then his womb made he cry harder you thrusted aggressively into miguel his spider legs dropped to the floor to weak to stay wrapped around you

His hot tears fell from his eyes, the knot in his stomach felt like your cock was touching it by how deep you were in his pussy he was full of your cock you look down at the half Spider before you grabbed two of Miguel's spider legs "ah ahhh arhhhhh~" Miguel's voice was to weak to scream any more all he could do was quietly make little noises as you Ruthlessly fucked his pussy but when you pulled out he whined and looked at you "why did you stop?" He was a bit sad you stopped but hid it. You smirked and pressed your back against the wall. Your legs opened. miguel got the hint, and he came closer

He lowered himself to your cock he licked your tip the taste of pre cum came in his mouth as he started sucking on your cock he gaged and new tears fell from his eyes bit he kept going the Agony of your dick in his mouth hurt like hell but he wanted your cum so he continued putting all he could in his tight mouth you groaned and griped his hair tightly pulling it as you forced more of you cock in his mouth miguel growled and gave you a angry look you chuckled and let him go

After a few minutes, he stopped. You hummed and raised an eyebrow. "What?" You scoffed, knowing he stopped because you did earlier. miguel wanted you to return the favor you got down to Miguel's Crotch miguel pulled the folds of his pussy with his middle and ring finger you smiled and licked Miguel's cilt "ahm" miguel closed his eyes before he fucking spider legs wrapped around your head pulling you closer to his wet puss you rubbed your thumb against Miguel's cilt as you licked his pussy lips you sticked your tongue inside him miguel watched as he bit his pointer finger trying to stop his moan from coming out

Miguel arched his back as your tongue did its magic on his pussy just seconds later miguel whimpered and cam his spider legs let you go ad you lick up Miguel's pussy juices before sitting up and you Wiped your mouth "you taste amazing you know that?" You winked playfully, miguel blushed and looked away."Shut up, human.." he grumbled before looking at you."Come on fuck my pussy and cum inside me already!" He demanded and bared his fangs at you "ok be patient now..." you chuckled feeling pleased with the situation you were in miguel moaned happily as you entered his pussy one again

You started slow before speeding up back to the aggressive pace earlier. miguel had his mouth open as your cock hit his womb and making a bulge in his stomach you only went deeper inside him "ahhhh shit! cal-ah calm...down~~!" He sobbed trying to speak correctly but he was to cock drunk to say anything else when he felt your cock twitch inside him miguel desperately moved against your thrusts wanting your cum inside his pussy you grabbed onto Miguel's spider legs as you thrusted harder miguel slightly moved up a bit by your powerful thrusts

"Rhmm~!" He whimpered as your hot cum filled his pussy Miguel's head fell to the floor his eyes closed you pulled out his pussy your cum leaking out of Miguel you zipped your pants back up before you left him there to find your friends

Miguel let out noises of satisfaction as your lage loud leaked out his pussy the Spider was left satisfied but craving more he bit you...your his mate now and he's happy with that.

....tbc...

#malereader #smut #miguel x male reader #male y/n #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x male reader #sub character #oneshots #sub miguel o'hara #domreader #reader has a dick! #miguel is half spider!!!!!! #I LOVE THIS MAN HAVING HIM BEGGING FOR READERS COCK JUST MAKES ME!! AHHHHHHHHH!!!!

[sukunasun]

TANGLED WEB | SPIDERMAN 2099 GETO SUGURU X READER

"i'm worried about you," you said to him then. it's not that there's anything wrong with him. flaky, yes. forgetful, sometimes. but it's starting to become increasingly clear that he's not all he seems to be.

suguru moves around his lab with soft, padded steps as the room is slowly lit by a hundred holographic screens. he's programmed it that way so it doesn't spook him. he hasn't had a good night's sleep in the last ten years. well, maybe forever actually, but he's stopped counting the all-nighters.

jumping from universe to universe does that to you, where time becomes a jumbled mess of past, present, and future. doesn't help that more of them explode into being each day. he's seen himself as a child in one and an old man in another, happily easing himself into his lazy chair while his beautiful wife grumbles on about how he needs to exercise more or his limbs will start creaking.

that one hurts a little too much he'll admit. would rather not think about a life where he'd been happy and perfectly content. instead, he taps on a few buttons by a console, sifting through screens, and moving windows out of the way with a swipe of his hand. news footage, maps, weapon inventory, plans and projects he's left on hold, some of them dating back years before he ever resorted to this life—bringing about order to chaos. there was no swinging from death-defying heights, no bank robbery chases and saving cats from trees, no...putting the multiverse back together, piece by fragmented piece.

his fingers grasp at the spandex of his mask, tugging it loose til his skin feels that familiar brush of fresh air. letting his hair fall down his shoulders and back, breathing a sigh of relief when he feels the tension leaving his scalp.

a video plays before him, lighting up his face from the dim. he remembers recording it at your wedding dress fitting. it wasn't necessary he told you, the dress, the rings, the reception, thinking he'd been above all these ritualistic traditions. now it's all he holds onto really, standing by the same spot, with the same video playing on a loop.

"sorry, it's been a while," he speaks, his roughened voice echoing around the walls. he makes a motion with his fingers and the video blows up in size. pixels painting a picture of your smiling face, a soft, love-filled gaze focused on him. or it seems that way. back when you still loved him anyway.

"hey," you say, a little self-conscious, "do we have to do this?" palming the material of your dress nervously, your engagement ring twinkling. he feels the phantom weight of the one he used to wear on his finger all the time. so much so that he rubs a thumb over the empty space, feeling only his suit there. 

he's removed his voice from the clip, only because it allows him to talk to you—at least some semblance of it—like he does now, "not if you don't want to...i just miss you is all," he replies.

"what kind of an answer is that?" his heart clenches at your laugh ringing through. a younger him would have said something funny when he should have been better with his words. should have told you how beautiful you were, how much you meant to him. but they always get caught in his throat. 

he's ignoring the fact that there are hundreds of other spidermans surrounding him behind these walls and any of them could waltz right in. watching the tough leader of spider society talk to an old tape of his ex-wife. they'd see just how...lonely he is.

two of them sit in a corner somewhere doing whatever task he's given them for the day. and they know there's nothing they could do about it. because he's got an oh-so-impossible plan of rewriting the canon. changing the outcome. for this is not up to technology or anything that isn't you and your wish to love him again.

and if he knows anything about multiverse travel, is that it's heartbreaking. how often he's lived in different shoes, loving a different you every time. multiple lifetimes, occurrences, origins, and resolutions. reliving the first time he held your hand, the first kiss, the first time he took you in his college dorm, how it was awkward and messy, but he'd cradled you in his arms when your body was a sweaty, blissed-out mess after, the expression on your face so rewarding he couldn't feel the sting of the scratch marks you've left all over his back.

you were hot to the touch one moment, a rousing sight, perfect in every way. and then you were cold, losing all colour, and grasping at him with your final breath seconds later. suguru realizes he was no longer in the comfort of an old junky room but on a street corner. buildings crumbling and him barely withstanding the weight of rubble on his back. his naked skin now in his suit drenched with blood. he swore it was just a glitch, but he saw with his very eyes, each of his timelines colliding and ripping apart, each tangent leading back to his inevitable loss. losing everything. losing you.

so they keep working on it. and he keeps watching you on a screen. shrugging and slumping his body and averting his eyes away because he can't bear to face you. always guilty and for what, he doesn't exactly know. can't pinpoint the moment he felt you slip through his fingers. only that he couldn't be the person you needed him to be.

"pathetic right?" he says, timing it right for the moment you reply with a—

"i forgive you," you say, hand reaching out to his. and he pauses the video there, placing his own hand against the screen and watching it glitch when his fingers make a hole through the display, plunging through and feeling only emptiness in return. at the very least, it buzzes around his form and it feels warm, but it's nothing compared to the way you'd hold him.

"promise?" he whispers, knowing you won't reply, and that the answer is already there. but he pulls his hand away, rewinds it, and starts all over again.

——————————————————

he still dreams about you. on the rare occasions he does manage to fall asleep.

but they're not scenes and sounds he's conjuring up, a random bunch of no-names his consciousness collected throughout the day, hazy blobs of red and blue. it's only ever one thing. a moment from his past he can't let go off.

vividly he sees you standing in the rain. in nothing but a pair of jeans and a tshirt. huff . huff.  his breaths are labored. here in the cold of night, they puff out in short gasps of white.

it all feels so real. in the flesh. in his suit. hanging upside down on what appears to be tangled strands of webbing in his grasp. body covered in black spandex, red covering the pads of his hands and feet, thick lines spanning across broad shoulders and chest, an angular pattern of a spider sitting right in the middle.

"so tell me spiderman...you've got a million eyes and ghastly fangs?" cupping his head gently, you're fingers move on their own accord. thumbs caressing over the material, feeling the flat planes and deep grooves of his features. a strong nose, soft cheeks...shaping and sculpting him in your mind's eye.

"go ahead," he whispers, his voice hoarse and ...desperate, "take it off and find out..." screw it, he thinks, he can have this, just this once. he's allowed to. it's just a dream anyway. spiderman is everything he's not. he's done more with the suit on than when it was left crumpled and untouched in his closet.

tugging at his mask, the hem starts to peel away from his neck. sliding and stretching over his throat. tucking folds moving upwards with every pull. pale skin revealed, now blooming red the moment you ease it over his adam's apple, over the cut of his jaw, and finally the edge grazes past his lips.

he gasps. mouth parting with every exhale, his fangs retracting and peeking from beneath, his chest rising and falling in time with his rapid breaths, his thumping heart. "thank you, for saving me," you whisper, before pressing your lips to his, feeling them part as his tongue slips inside the warmth of your mouth. fuck, this is exhilarating. even though it could just be from the last time he kissed you, the taste of you is unlike any other, forever etched in his memory.

——————————————————

"i'm worried about you," you said to him then. it's not that there's anything wrong with him. flaky, yes. forgetful, sometimes. but it's starting to become increasingly clear that he's not all he seems to be.

in that restaurant you like—the one serving the huge rice bowls and unlimited tea refills—you eyed the new injury he's gotten that week. he should have tried to hide it at least. but scarily enough, it was probably the best his efforts could afford. it'd been a bruise on his cheek, no bigger than a few centimeters, and knuckles so raw, so red, the skin splits down the middle of those nubby slopes.

"it's really fine," he brushes you off and you noticed the slight wince in his expression, giving it away. if he were better at acting you wouldn't catch how his arms rested on the table, placing most of his weight on it and shielding his torso from you. just underneath his shirt, two broken ribs sealed themselves back beneath skin and muscle at a snail's pace, a bullet wound in his shoulder closed up inch by inch. felt the dermis stitching itself back segment by segment in circular motions.

you sighed heavily. he didn't miss the disappointment laced in your features. "i think we should break up, you're...hiding things from me." a part of him knew it was coming, but where does he even begin. he's left these things out for a reason. spiderman doesn't have a place in all this. that...version of himself is his own burden to bear.

geto suguru was your boyfriend, unmasked and uncovered. the one who has a strict hair care routine and likes spending his time cooped up in a lab. less mad scientist and more aloof inventor who's dedicated his life to a cause. he's charming, intelligent, and sexier than he should be—"are you sure you're not lying to me about your job? i don't think researchers do pull-ups at work," you squeeze at the swell of his arms in wonder, palms pressed into his pecs, admiring the bulk, the brawn, down the curve of his slim little waist.

geto however, can only blush. chuckling to himself nervously whilst grateful the cut of muscles is enough to distract you.

you've mentioned it once or twice. that it's just a bonus he's so hot, the real appeal is where on most days he's dorky....disheveled. and so captivating. drooping eyebags kissing the steam wafting from his mug, coffee today, because he needs the extra boost. how he's scratching at his toothpaste-stained shirt while a blanket hangs over his head in the mornings. when warm light hits just right, you notice the alluring streak of silver hairs, shining against dark locks. swooping and silky. oh how does stress look this lustrous...this indulgent. trotting about his messy kitchen with a lazy, drowsy gait.

"where the fuck is it," he mumbles, noisily wading through last night's clutter for..."my thingy!" he exclaims. because everything's a 'thingy' at this hour. when his brain is still fuzzy and he's got no energy. he's brandishing what happens to be a teaspoon like he's found the holy grail. and yes, it is that important because "this teaspoon isn't like any other teaspoon, it's actually perfectly accurate in measuring the amount of sugar i like," he's so particular.

sometimes he goes back there, he'd swing past heavy traffic and crowded streets from below. a route he knows by heart. by instinct. awed and frightened faces alike, feasting their eyes upon a masked man and his reflected grief in skyscraping windows. regrets when he'd been fighting crime and it slipped his mind. he promises he'll be early from now on, hoping to see you waiting for him by that same table and maybe this time, you wouldn't want to end things.

#ANGST. be warned. #sunpiece #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fic #geto suguru #jjk geto #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto fic #geto suguru fic #my taste in men is hot villain with a cause. bonus is hes got broad shoulders and the strength of ten men. #spiderman suguru

[tkvkfanfics]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ ↝ Taehyung was painfully aware of the truth; life was never free. Every decision he made had a consequence, and it seemed clear what price he would have to pay if someone got to know about the true character of his and Jungkook's relationship. However, he had come this far and there was no turning back or throwing it away. Sadly, he wasn't too brave either.

↝ Taehyung's and Jungkook's relationship right under the nose of obviousness.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢꜱ ↝ taekook, idol⥏ taehyung x idol⥏ jungkook ↝ idol⥏ taehyung x original male character ↝ straight namjoon ↝ namjin, idol⥏ namjoon x idol⥏ seokjin ↝ idol⥏ seokjin x original male character

ʀᴀᴛɪɴɢ ⥏ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ ↝ mature 18+ ↝ angst, homophobia, explicit sexual content, self-realisation

ᴛᴀɢꜱ ⥏ ɢᴇɴʀᴇ ↝ secret relationship, slow-burn, awkward first times, awkward romance, complicated friendships, taehyung forgets he should play a detective, ↝ idolsAU, BTS 2016

ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ

ʜɪᴅᴅᴇɴ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ

ᴊᴀɴᴜᴀʀʏ 2016

Taehyung wasn't sure for how long he was eyeing the opposite wall while his hands, raised in front of his face, were marking the abstract shadows on the white paint spread in multiple layers over the imperfections under it. As the last rays shone in through the setting sun, the paint appeared to glow in shades of orange and red. He opened up his palm, stretching his fingers so wide that the dry skin around his knuckles, red from the cold, harsh weather, threatened to break, and closed them right away, watching how the thin string of a spider web drew patterns on the back of his hand, reaching past his sleeve and ending in the bending where his forearm met his elbow.

If Taehyung had to list the pros and cons, how strictly professional had Namjoon named them, about their new place with the same set of doors and the colour of their sofa matching the kitchen counters, he would copy Hoseok’s enthusiasm seeping through his big bold letters on the plain paper and drag his pen above the faint lines, writing the word ‘bigger’ right at the begging of the first column. But as soon as everyone would nod, peeking in between his fingers, and looked away, too busy with their own lists and minds, he would place the sharp tip of his pen until the ink wouldn’t leak through, and write, ‘but I liked the small cosy more’.

Taehyung took a deep breath in, filling his nose with the smell of novelty coming from the plastic bags stuck with an easy-to-tear tape to the furniture pilling behind the door of his shared room with Namjoon and reached out his hand even more, until the sleeve of his pyjama top wasn’t brushing over his wrist, showing off his favourite bracelets. If he did the same while surrounded by the paper boxes instead of shelves and cabinets, and pillows instead of chairs, in his old room with two bunk beds, the tips of his fingers would brush past the wood planks over Jimin’s old bed and if he stretched out his legs, snapping the bubbles in his knees, his toes would touch the blankets hanging off the mattress. Taehyung felt an indescribable feeling jerking his legs and arms while he was counting the distance between his and Namjoon’s empty bed.

"At least fifteen Mario figures," thought Taehyung as he ran his eyes over the red shine of the hat the plastic man in blue overall was wearing, while kissing the floor, lying by the leg of the wardrobe that was rattling every time someone in the apartment above decided to run instead of walking. He had never thought the distance of furniture could make him feel so lonely.

The unexpected knock cleared the wrinkle of concentration pulling Taehyung’s eyebrows together in a frown and he turned his head, squinting at the gleam dusting of the night under the gap of his closed door. He let his hand fall, hitting his side before bouncing on the mattress. Taehyung grasped the bed sheets, scratching at the soft fabric with his nails, as if they could send strength to his tired muscles and sighed when his bare soles came into contact with the coldness of the floor.

Another soft knock resonated through the room, pulling a huff out of Taehyung’s mouth before a quiet, but loud enough, travelling on the waves of streaming air, “Hyung?” fell on his ears.

Taehyung was standing at the other side of the wood, blinking at the shadow pushing from the hallways and almost touching his toes, while he stared at his arm, pleading it to lift up and set on the handle under his eyes.

“Are you sleeping?” came a muffled voice and once Taehyung’s sleepy mind recognised its familiarity trying to wave away the fog from his awareness, a lazy smile raised up his cheeks, melting the confusion away.

He pushed open the door, jerking in an alert at the loud creaking jumping from the empty hallways and blending with the swoosh of air that tickled his toes. Taehyung’s eyes fell on the figure preventing him from seeing how the opposite walls kept trembling from the powerful snores escaping from the Seokjin’s room.

Jungkook’s socked feet were stomping a step away from the threshold, blowing away the crumbled up polystyrene, rolling from the boxes full of fragile glass, with every thump of his heels, while his knees were shaking, despite the blanket thrown over his shoulders reaching up to his mid tights. Jungkook pulled the edges of the thin fabric closer together as soon as the draught hit him, they were now touching under his chin and stretching over his back while showing the hard bumps of muscles under the smooth surface.

“Hey,’ Jungkook whispered, ‘Can I go in?” he sniffled and looked at Taehyung’s room wrapped in dark.

Taehyung, pouting at the red tint of Jungkook’s scrunching nose, stepped away and pulled the boy inside, covering him in the familiar night ruling over the safety of his asylum, before closing the door behind them.

As soon as the click of the lock drew a smile on Jungkook’s lips, Taehyung pushed him towards his empty bed until the back of his knees didn’t hit his mattress, prompting him to lose his balance and fall between his messy sheets. A soft laugh resonated in the background of the sharp breath as the air stuck within the confines of Jungkook’s lungs, but before it could reach its full potential and scare the spiders undisturbedly spinning their webs, Taehyung plopped down over his body and trapped the sound inside his own throat as his lips moved against Jungkook’s in a shy peck. He could feel Jungkook’s raising chest under his and the quivering of his abdomen muscles as another laugh pushed past his teeth, slamming against Taehyung’s mouth. Soon, both of them were biting on their lips to restrain their giggles from escaping and waking up the other members sleeping in their rooms.

“Kook,’ Taehyung hid his face in the juncture of Jungkook’s shoulder, kissing the point where the joyful rhythm of his life was pulsating erratically against his cheek, ‘you really need to stop showing up in the middle of the night like this,’ he sighed and hoisted up on palms placed on either side of Jungkook’s body, searching for the maknae’s eyes, ‘You're going to get us caught one day. And you know, the price we pay may be too high.”

“But it's the thrill of it, hyung,’ grinned Jungkook, seemingly unfazed, ‘Besides,’ Taehyung could more feel than hear a hand rising on the side of his body, struggling to keep straight, supported only by his weak arms on the wiggly mattress, ‘being with you is worth it.” Something cold touched the sliver of Taehyung’s skin peeking between his pyjama collar and hair tickled his nape. The shiver didn’t even have time to run down his spine, when that something freezing pressed on his neck and his arms gave up under him. Taehyung fell on Jungkook’s chest, knocking his nose against the sharp bone of his chin.

“Almost,” joked Jungkook and the hot air blew on his exposed forehead. Then two strong arms encircled his waist and lifted him up until their lips didn’t meet once again in the dance they were no longer shy to perform.

Taehyung hummed into the kiss, enjoying the warm feeling spreading in his chest, contrasting with the cold fingers boring into his cheeks, reminding him that their inner peace didn’t walk hand in hand with their bodies subconsciously reacting to the low temperatures portraying the pillows and blanket in a welcoming light.

“You are unfair,” it wasn’t clear if the whine was meant to support his words or if the noise chortling in his throat was a reaction to the lack of hot slicked lips forcing his own to part.

“But you like it. Don’t gimme that look,’ uttered Jungkook, ‘I will leave before Namjoon hyung comes,” he said and stole one last kiss, its wetness squelched not only in Taehyung’s ears but also made him pull away and bring the back of his hand to wipe the saliva dripping down his chin while the hit on Jungkook’s shoulder followed the disgusted grimace pulling the corners of his mouth down.

“How was your evening, Kook?” yawned Taehyung and grabbed the pillow fearing to fall down the edge to let his head bore into the plush softness reminding him of his exhaustion ticking towards the late hour with the fog spreading over his consciousness. He reached for Jungkook’s hand moving up and down on his stomach to the rhythm of his regular breaths and pulled it over his body, only to frown when it didn’t bring him the warmth he was hoping for despite where the naked skin of his palm pressed on his uncovered hip a sweat was forming from the heat. Taehyung wished to pull the offensive top protecting Jungkook’s chest over his head and dive into the tropical waves.

“Good,’ mumbled Jungkook, his eyes rolled back to find his face, ‘Busy, as always, but,’ with a sigh he lifted his legs until they were no longer touching the floor and threw them over Taehyung’s - Taehyung could feel his heels sinking into bed under their weight, ‘now I am with you,” he whispered close to his ear - borrowing the corner of the soft pillow to rest his head on - as if Taehyung’s simple presence could lift the strain of his shoulders.

Taehyung turned his head, the sound of his hair rubbing against the pillow case buried his heavy sigh, “Hey, guess what, Kook-ah?’ he began softly, his lips moving close to the tip of Jungkook’s nose, if someone turned the blinds falling over the window, he would be able to count the freckles rising up as the faded brownish spots on the slope of Jungkook’s nose, they were lying that close, ‘Hyungu hyung invited me over to his place tonight, he cooked some delicious tteokbokki just for Jin hyung and me. Trust me, you missed out on a culinary masterpiece! I wish I could save you the leftovers, but we ate everything,” as he proceeded, his voice carried an exciting tone, almost as if he could imagine himself sitting in the savory filled kitchen.

“Oh?” the dark brush of eyebrows lifted up over Jungkook’s eyes in what had to be a surprise. Taehyung had never mentioned why was he pulling the zipper of his winter jacket up sooner than the others still sweating in front of the mirror tonight.

“How's that going?” Jungkook asked simply, but barely masking the curiosity in his voice. It wasn’t rare for Jin’s boyfriend to call him over dinner, if anything, he liked to push in the gaps of Taehyung’s and Jin’s free period to sneak a chocolate bar or not-so-innocent bag of his favourite snacks into his diet while busying himself with the familiarity of Jin’s presence. Taehyung wasn’t stupid, he was well aware that he served as a cover-up, skipping behind Jin’s back like a wiggly tail every time the familiar ringtone of Jin's phone was followed by a photo of Hyungu's freshly shaved face, gleaming on his lit-up phone screen. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t feeling like a small kid whose mouth could be shut up with a sweet stop to his hunger pangs, that were hitting the walls of his empty stomach, while he was glaring at the couple embracing under the brightest lamp.

“It's…,” Taehyung took a while to think, his excitement suddenly gone. He brought his hand close to Jungkook’s face and traced the curve of his nose, prominently sticking out between his cheeks until he didn’t find the narrow dip close to his cheek bone under his fingertip, “Different,” he said at least.

“I am so glad for them, although maybe not quite as much as Hyungu hyung when he looks at Jin hyung. They look so happy together… But you know, here’s the thing,’ after his finger returned to the middle of Jungkook’s face, copying his nose shape, probably to engrave it into his memory, Jungkook’s eyes met in the middle, watching his hand with a new interest, ‘he told me that Namjoon hyung, that he has been urging him to come out to the company, about their relationship.” Taehyung pressed on the squishy tip until it didn’t lay flat, touching the spot beneath, just above the gentle curve of his lips, and Jungkook’s mouth opened to take the air in. They both were following the movement of Taehyung’s digit hovering over Jungkook’s open mouth and a short stroke of tension ran over them before they coughed and hid their burning cheeks behind their palms.

“Uh… complicated,’ said Jungkook eventually, taking over the line of embarrassing closeness they have not yet chosen to cross, ‘Do you think he will?”

“I am clueless, Kook,’ huffed Taehyung, shaking his head, back on his pillow, ‘Jin hyung is… I guess he is torn. It may be not just about them, he's afraid of what it might mean for all of us, especially,’ he rolled his eyes before finishing, ‘uh, what will be Bang PD-nim's reaction.”

“It's tough, hyung,’ Jungkook was slow to nod, ‘Coming out is never easy, and the industry,’ it seemed that the gulp that bobbed with his throat pushed out the words he had carefully thought about before, ‘can be unforgiving.”

Taehyung sighed, “Who wouldn’t be worried about the consequences?” as the last word rolled out of Taehyung’s tongue, his heart thumped against his ribcage with a striking force, if it wasn’t more careful it would imprint its shape there temporarily.

Taehyung’s ears were ringing in the silence they both fell into, meaningfully filling the gaps with their thoughts, louder than their sealed mouth could ever dare to reveal, muffled by a new feeling, heavier than they were familiar with.

“It's tough, isn't it, hyung?’ Taehyung wondered how Jungkook could speak through the lump in his throat, ‘All this hiding and pretending."

Taehyung felt as if someone had stepped in the middle of his chest and with every breath he tried to take, the sole of the stranger’s shoe had only bored deeper, until the liquid swaying inside wasn’t bumping against its unevenness.

The gaze felt begging, tingling on the side of his face and when he answered it, staring right into the wetness of Jungkook’s eyes, expecting his own self to reflect there, however instead he was flooded with sudden waves of memories falling over his mind. He remembered those days characterised by his self-doubt and insecurities, when his fears built up barriers between his desires as he would steal glances at Jungkook but was quick to punish his heart racing towards dreams he had forbidden himself from seeing. He didn’t like returning to those dark times, especially when they were only a knock of the last hot summer away, when he fought with his identity, struggling to the point it felt like he was drowning. He preferred to hide his face behind a facade, put a mask in front of his true emotions, but it became impossible to conceal them from his mind. More than battling with the fear of societal judgment, he was stabbing his own inner turmoil, but instead of vanishing into non-existence it bled, bled so much it poured into the truth.

Taehyung still felt guilty for pushing Jungkook away, wiping his lips, but they continued to ooze the screaming red. But Jungkook had never given up on himself - if Taehyung felt selfishly daring, he would say on them - coming clean and risking a heartbreak. Now, as they lay together in the quiet of Taehyung’s room, he couldn't help but feel a relieving sense of gratitude for the love that had brought them under his blanket.

Their relationship started as a delicate one, catching Taehyung off guard every time he spotted Jungkook’s eyes in the mirror, communicating through the gentle blinks brushing past their cheeks in the mass of other faces, blind to the blush rising on their skin. It all bubbled inside his stomach like the first love, and maybe it really was, on the background of stolen kisses in the dimly lit corners of their practice room, or hidden behind the door of a cubicle, breathing in the sickly reek of toilets, while busy lost in each other’s eyes. But as their love had grown, so had the challenges they faced. The entertainment industry was unforgiving, and the pressure to conform to its expectations weighed heavily on their shoulders. Taehyung knew that Jin’s dilemma about coming out to the company was just a reflection of the larger struggle they all faced.

“Yeah, Kookie, it is. But you know what? It is the path we've chosen, at least for the time being.” Taehyung rubbed his eyes, clearing the sleep filling their corners with his fists. He was momentarily enjoying the lack of grey shadows seeping through, while the wetness spread behind the eyelids eased the itching sensation painting the milky surface faint red.

When Jungkook’s hand grazed along his covered belly, he jerked, not anticipating it, but nuzzled closer until his bent knees didn’t poke the curve of Jungkook’s waist. “I just,’ he could hear Jungkook smack his lips, they had to be just a thin line dipping the corners of his mouth now, ‘wish we didn't have to sneak around like this. It's exhausting,” the whisper sounded on the border of a cry, coping his exasperation.

As Taehyung’s fingers gently stroked Jungkook's hair, he spoke softly, 'I know,’ he spoke more bravely than he felt inside, ‘But remember why we're doing this. We're protecting our love and the group."

Jungkook's sigh filled the room and his voice carried a familiar longing, "I get it, hyung, I do. It's just... sometimes I wish we could be open about us,” he confessed, his grip on Taehyung's fingers tightened, as if not wanting to let go.

Taehyung felt his heart swell with affection and concern, wishing he could offer Jungkook a solution rather than more worries. "I am with you on that, Jungkook,’ he nodded, his voice strained with the weight of their shared burden, ‘But we can't risk it. What if someone catches on? What if they already have?"

Jungkook's arm wrapped around him, drawing him closer, their bodies once again finding comfort in the closeness of their embrace. "Hey, don't worry,’ Jungkook reassured him, his nose tracing the contours of Taehyung's shoulder. He pulled away slightly, allowing a cool rush of air between them. "We've been careful, and Jin hyung is on our side. And if someone does suspect anything,’ his voice gained a newfound strength, as if he was trying to convince both Taehyung and himself, ‘we'll deal with it together, just like we always do."

Taehyung remained silent for a long moment. His fingers were lightly tracing the lines on Jungkook's palm as if he could uncover their future lying in the complex of webs spiralling and tying together into others, but it stayed the same, uncertain. The dread of exposure weighed heavily on him.

“I wish it was a truth,” Taehyung’s lips wrapped around the words but no sound vibrated within his throat.

Taehyung found himself too caught up in the approaching storm, roaring behind the mountains of the future. He stretched his neck to see how far were the fortresses built of pretence that the thunderbolt was setting ablaze, before it hammered on the front door and unleashed where the peace in his life was currently ruling. However, he was only met with the same uncertainty in two eyes watching him, sliding down his cheek. Taehyung’s heavy breath of non-spoken wants spread before their senses of perception, perhaps fogging into the hard-to-see-through mist falling over the room’s midnight shadows, playing with their memories responsive to new-found desires for the alone time together, that they have forgotten about the second bed’s empty mattress and the pillows fluffed against the headrest, winking at them just behind it.

The next time Taehyung reached to rub the sleep away from his eyes, to continue strolling towards what looked to be an infinite night, he found them swollen with a satisfying rest, same as the state of his mind, while lying on the pillow that impressed the fabric lines into the pliant skin of his cheek, with the half of Jungkook’s body thrown over his, in the new day’s rays absorbed room.  And his heart dropped with the sound of huffing coming from his left. Taehyung’s chest felt tense and the muscles in his neck screamed the protests, even going as far as pulling at the sensitive nerve ending, making him to hiss in pain.

Taehyung felt caught red-handed staring right into Namjoon’s eyes, watching him from behind the glasses set on his nose, while he was sitting on his bed. Namjoon brought his index finger to his mouth and stuck out his tongue to wet its surface before the dampness glued it onto the page of the book he was reading. The quiet rustling of a paper must have visited Jungkook’s dreams because he stirred in Taehyung’s arms.

“Hyung?’ gulped Taehyung, ‘Good morning?” he wasn’t sure why the tone of his voice kept rising into the questions. He tried to understand Namjoon’s expression, but it appeared unreadable, hardening around his mouth corners yet with an empty glint in his eyes. As Jungkook shifted again, blowing a snore over his bare neck and raising a panic slowly climbing up from behind Namjoon’s eyebrow raise, he quickly came up with an excuse, ‘We… uh, we were just playing some games last night,’ the way a drop of sweat shone on his forehead had presented him in a guilty light, ‘and I guess we fell asleep?”

The second eyebrow, resting low over Namjoon’s eyelids till now, joined the first one, pulling at the skin, high, close to his hairline. Taehyung attempted an awkward smile but inside he was freaking out. Were they too obvious?

Namjoon’s pursed lips enhancing his noticeable silence continued to play on Taehyung’s anxiety. His mouth opened subconsciously while his teeth found sank into the plush of his bottom lip, tugging at the old habits in nervousness.

Namjoon’s gaze shifted once again between Taehyung’s flush rising on his pale face and Jungkook’s furrowed eyebrows while his dreams were slowly meeting their end. He closed the book with a loud thud, spreading the musty smell of old pages, and nodded simply before getting up and leaving the room without saying a word.

As soon as Namjoon’s wide bare back disappeared behind the closed door, Taehyung’s head fell. He ran his eyes over Jungkook’s black tangled strands, seeping the aroma of shampoo all over his pyjama top, while his hand fisted the creased loose fabric around the hem.

“Jungkook-ah,’ whispered Taehyung, his voice still hoarse, brushing over Jungkook’s hair, ‘wake up,” he tapped his shoulder, but the boy’s fingers only tightened around his T-shirt, baring his stomach.

“C’mon.”

“Mmm…’ grunted Jungkook, ‘five mo-ah,’ his mouth stretched around a yawn and his hot breath tickled Taehyung around his navel, ‘five more minutes, Tae,” he mumbled, forgetting about honorifics in the state of half-sleep. Jungkook turned his head so his nose was boring in the gap between his ribs now.  

“Jungkook-ah, it’s important,’ Taehyung spoke louder this time, sounding more urgently, ‘Wake up, now!” he shook him by his shoulders.

“Huh?’ Jungkook’s lips parted before his eyelids raised, smoothing the skin over his rolling eye whites, ‘What’s going on, Tae?” he yawned again and squinted lazily at Taehyung’s face.

“It's about Namjoon hyung, I think he knows something,’ he hurried to answer, checking the closed door after he thought he heard a movement somewhere close, creaking on their floor.

“Wake up.”

Jungkook ruffled his hair, combing his finger through the knots around the crown of his head. “Namjoon hyung?’ he asked, sounding confused, ‘What do you mean?” a painful hiss escaped between his teeth when he pulled at the untamed hair more harsher than he intended. Taehyung reached out and even if overwhelmment spread into his arm as hot blood traveled to his numb from disuse fingers, he ran them through Jungkook’s messy locks.

“You shouldn’t have stayed here last night,” Taehyung began but before he could voice out his concern, he was stopped short by a voice just a few steps away from where they were lying under the sheets, “Hyu-, oh… um,” Jimin mumbled, his foot lingering between Taehyung's room and the hallway. Taehyung watched the slipper slipping off Jimin's toes in the same awkward manner as his eyes were shifting between Jungkook's guilty face and his.

“Jimin hyung,” Jungkook smiled nervously while his fingers circled around Taehyung's wrist trying to pull his hand away from his hair. Jimin's chin jerked as his eyes followed the not so subtle movement.

“Jungkookie, good morning,' Jimin nodded curtly in acknowledgement, pointedly ignoring Taehyung's burning gaze, 'Have you seen Namjoonie hyung?” his words carried an underlying tension that seemed to fill the air around them.

Taehyung noticed Jungkook's chest lifting as he expanded his lungs with the answer, but before it could bubble on his tongue, Taehyung spoke up, “He's not here,' he said sternly, 'Maybe check the living room,” his tone was icy but he couldn't deny the annoyance that rose up his throat as he watched Jimin's head twitching towards him but never meeting his eyes.

Despite the smoke of irritation spiralling out of his fuming nostrils, Jimin couldn’t pretend he had plugs stuffed inside his ears. His face was twisted with frustration and his jaw tightened as soon as Taehyung cleared his throat. He grunted a reluctant, “Thanks,” before kicking into his slipper until it didn't slide back on his foot and he stomped out of the room. The obvious scoff bounced from the walls seconds after he left, among other voices bowing him a greet in the hallway.

As soon as Jimin vanished from the sight, Taehyung became aware of the unvocalized words gulped down by Jungkook’s throat or bitten down by Jungkook’s tongue and one sharp intake of air was enough for him to cut through the possibility with a swish of raising hand to let them be heard.

“Don’t-”

“Hyung, talk to Jimin already,’ however, Jungkook's voice was a wrecking ball that tore down all of Taehyung's flimsy attempts, like a hurricane breaking down all of his efforts, ‘You’ve been avoiding him for too long.”

‘Too long’ perfectly described the passed time since his last year’s late night New York escapade, maybe too perfectly, sighed Taehyung. He couldn’t remember when was the last time Jimin’s smile didn’t turn bitter when he caught Taehyung’s gaze during the group meetings held to discuss their ‘America success- winter 2015’. It was not a secret, at least not for Jungkook, as Taehyung spent the majority of their late night talks complaining about Jimin and Jimin only, that when Jimin turned his back towards the open door and rather had chosen the already crowded room, Taehyung took it personally. “Hyung can be pretty petty if he wants,” Jungkook gave him a look.

“I know,’ Taehyung lowered his eyes, ‘but I'm scared, Kook,’ he hesitated for a moment, ‘Scared that it might be too late.”

Jungkook stared intensely, a mix of emotions on his face, from frustration to concern and sadness. "The longer you stay quiet, the harder it'll be, Tae hyung," he said firmly.

#taekook #taekook vkook #taekook au #taehyung #jungkook #kpop idol #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #taekook fanfic #vkook fanfiction #canon #taekook canon #taekook 2016 #taekook fluff #taekook angst #taekook smut #taehyung angst #jungkook angst

[lowkeyclueless5137]

hi hi hi, I have a Ben 10 AU question. Not only do I want to hear/see more moments with Pesky Dust(aka more details on how the four feel on this alien as well what else Pesky Dust form is used), and how said allies feel about said alien. But also what about the four’s opinions on Humugousaur, Jetray, Chromastone, Brainstorm, Spider Monkey, Grey Matter, Stinkfly, Cannonbolt, and Blitzwolfer, as well as Snare-Oh? Plus Ditto and Arctiguna too.

hmmm Pesky Dust is quite complicated... I did explain as much as I could the individual reactions on this transformations, but other than that, the transformation itself is probably used for espionage or blending in with the fairies. But then again, I didn't really catch a lot of it, I believe only once I saw Pesky dust and it wasn't a very radical influence. Adding That Pesky dust is an Omniverse form, which it's not actually cannon to the au(we only use forms from the classic and alien force)

As for the others, I'll try to tackle them by general, with a few exceptions that are most noteworthy :'3

Humangousaur

Big dino! Very useful when it's needed a bit of a *ehem* Heavy hand... It's a great alien, but very unuseful when it comes to battles that are on the NRC halls/classrooms.

Epel is very fond of Humangousaur, along Kalim, who likes to use shockwaves to put distance in between him and enemies.

Jetray

A useful Alien when it comes to traveling fast. Definetely a reliable one when it comes to fast traveling with no disturbtions or the need to make an excuse why you got in another continent faster than the earliest plane leaving from the airport.

Idia uses this one often when he feels petty and wants to give an extra-'let me fuck up this guy's evil plans'. Kalim also uses it when he needs a quick escape when Jamil wants to have a 'talk' after the 'misterious dissappearance' of some cooconut cookies.

Chromastone

the crystal jesus/j

Overall, in a place where magic is mostly used as beams and rays by petty teens, this alien is a GODSEND. Altrough it mostly dials back to energy reflection and refraction, if you know phisics(Kalim and Epel are quacking), you are almost untouchable just don't get too cocky with it :'3

Riddle is the one who appreciates this transformation the most. He knows theory and practice of the phisics processes that help him pose as invincible. Meanwhile, you have the cocky genius Idia, who got punted in a wall more often than Ortho can remember just because he got too cocky with it.

Brainstorm

Homework crab. That's it.

Epel isn't too fond of Brainstorm, but as long as Vil doesn't catch him using this alien for his alchemy homework, he's chill. Kalim likes that Brainstorm, much like grey matter, grant him more brain capacity, which in turn has Jamil a bit less worried, bc he knows that Kalim as the 2 is more composed and isn't relying on guts, but ration.

Spider Monkey

Hooooooo boooooooiiiii. This is a stealth alien, but at the same time, who doesn't want to just tape an annoying Ace to the ceiling? :3c

Kalim likes it a lot. He tries to rely on spidermonkey because he can make minimum damage and use the webs to either imobilise enemies or take innocents to safety. So bad Jamil has bugphobia. Riddle doesn't really enjoy it, sometimes still feeling as if he has multiple arms. Once Jack caught him grabbing with his foot a book from the ground as a tired human post transformation. Both decided to never bring it up ever again.

Grey Matter

Smart is not that welcome when you are easily squished. Like PLEASE let this mf rest. Don't put it in a cup anymore. He's great, but an inconvenience for the sole purpose that it's the most hunted alien by the NRC peeps. :'3

Idia uses gray matter when he does maintenance on vechicles, being absolutely great in this field. Kalim uses gray matter to try and undertand his exam subjects 20 mins before the exam itself :'3

Stinkfly

Nobody is a fan of the stinky fly. Unfortunately. :'3

Ok, maybe Epel, mostly because he uses it to mess with Vil. x3

Cannonbolt

Ball go brrrrrrr.

Idia likes it a lot, mostly for the childish concept of 'if I don't see them, they don't see me'. Cannonbolt is mostly a comfort alien for him, when Idia just feels like he needs to curl up and deal with a rush of feels. Riddle on the other hand, considers cannonbolt as a great rescuer. He definetely isn't touchstarved and enjoys hugs, definetely not, sir U-U.

Blitzwolfer

Unfotunately, no werewolf episode, but it's a great transformation for night missions. :'3

Riddle doesn't like it, but doesn't have the heart to tell it to Jack who absolutely is hyped by the fact that there is a transformation that hits close to his wolfhood. Epel tho, is THRILLED by this, but Rook is there to remind u that 'if it's animal like and moves, it's on the target list'.

Snare-Oh

A versatile alien, great for inside fights. Just be careful, in case your face falls off and someone sees it :'3

Idia likes Snare-oh the most. He loves the liberty of bandages and even contemplated for Ignihyde's halloween costumes to be mummies, alas Azul got in front of him at this one :'3 Riddle also uses Snare-oh in quite intricate ways, sometimes even making great string patterns with the bandages. That or have Ace 'match with him' xD

Ditto

Cute-shit lil alien that multiplies faster than rabbids(the series). But it's not that useful, unless you want to have a big pile sitting on enemies.

Kalim is great as Dittto, but his downside comes when he overwhelms someone with 'comforting hugs'. Riddle is very NOT fond of Ditto, mostly bc Ace made fun of him for being cute.

Arctiguna

Ice, ice, baby :'3

Idia thinks that it's a sort of downgrade from Big Chill, but since arctiguna is more loved by others for being considered cute Idia has to favor this instead of Big Chill when it comes to handing bad guys in public. Kalim also Likes this transformation, Jamil getting first hand of the 'cool cuddles'.

#twisted wonderland #asks :3 #ben 10 au

[spider-tech1]

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[lizzie-is-here]

colorguard! reader x peter parker

summary: an entirely self-indulgent piece for myself bc i have to be at my school by 4:15 and get on a bus for 5 fucking hours

wordcount: 750

warnings: cussing, mentions of racism and homophobia, my saber cut me one time and now i hold a grudge against it

• for those who don’t know what colorguard is, it’s this:

ah pls look at those rotations! those are 7s or 8s y’all😩

low key think i’ve been to that arena

drama🥵

• ok assuming ur in high school, this is also kinda gonna be peter parker x reader

• idk ab other schools’ guards but literally my whole guard is fruity

• we love

• anyway

• you’ve been friends with peter for a while, and he had called you in a panic when he got bitten by the spider at oscorp.

• aka, you had to help him make the first spider-man suit. neither of you could really sew and you honestly want to forget about the shabby costume.

• you convinced him to join marching band, even if he did choose saxophone (slightly to your dismay, you’d love to see him in guard, or god forbid, drumline).

• band camp nearly killed that boy, leading to you making many jokes about how, even after gaining superpowers, he was still laying on the field dying after a run-through.

• he attends every winterguard competition, much to your director’s joy. directors take any excuse for extra help.

• when he joins the avengers, he stays in marching band for you 🥺

• peter brings you to meet them, and you’re literally in awe. they don’t think you’re weird or nerdy for it, instead they ask if they can come when marching season comes around.

• nat helping teach you ballet and gymnastics so you can get that dance solo babe

• making them attend a DCI performance and screaming for blue devils bc iconic. my first blue devils show i saw was ghost light and it’s still in my heart.

• them coming to a friends and family performance at the end of band camp

• making the super soldiers try to toss your equipment and wanting to fucking scream because once he gets decent, bucky can toss elevens on rifle with only half preps🤠

• tony as a band parent pls 😩

• the team cheering you on at state and literally jumping down bleachers to hug you both.

• not to brag but my band won state this year and omg fucking surreal. literally froze my nips off bc we didn’t have sleeves on our costumes in the middle of goddamn november but fun anyway.

• them at winterguard comps? almost embarrassing bc they’re screaming when you pull the tarp out.

• consoling u if the outfits are ugly

• if u have any solos it’s over hon they’re hyping u up big time

• WGI slapping every time. this year’s lexis winterguard show is bussin bussin y’all look them up they’re hot

• anyway have some fun scenarios that have happened to me:

• slamming into a fucking metal pole in the parking lot bc i couldn’t see over the goddamn flags

• it rained on us during warmup and our flags were soggy af. still got first tho

• swarming a mcdonald’s at 5 am with the winterguard

• going batshit for a ziploc bag half full of grapes

• breaking multiple lights in the gym because ‘oops didn’t think i could toss that high’

• trying a trick toss at practice and everyone going crazy when you catch

• showing off when another school group walks by (our track team practices at the same time and close by)

• cutting ur freaking hand open with the saber because the tape is too scratchy

• honestly f saber line it’s literally just pinch pinch like bitch i’m not a crab

• we get m&ms instead of trophies for the winter competitions, so literally going feral for the family size bag

• wind and flag work🤮

• exchanges looking sexy as hell. i have a duet suicide (a double exchange) with a friend this season and i nearly kill him every time but the crowd likes it sooo

• crying because your rifle has a crack but buying a new one and adjusting to the weight is a shit time

• fighting the winds bc 90% of ours are racist or homophobic 🙄 literally don’t associate w them

• guard cuddle-piles

• our band does separate breakfasts for each section the morning of the first comp, and we exchange gifts.

• no matter how much you complain, staying for your friends who are more like family

• anyway back to fanfic stuff

• peter asking you out at a competition and sneaking to sit with him on the bus

• sorta-cringey-super-cute hand holding at comps

• him being buff and being able to lift you with ease, leading to partner choreo

• packing snacks for each other bc couples that steal each other’s food stay together

• even if there is a no-pda rule, he’ll kiss you in the middle of the gym or field after every awards ceremony, whether you win or not. he’s proud either way and you feel the same.

#marvel #avengers x reader #marvel x reader #x reader #tony stark #natasha romanoff #bucky barnes #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter x reader #color guard #winter guard

[ratsoh-writes]

@scienceisfood has spoken lol

More oddly specific things that could kill the skelebros!!

Sans: being mistaken as the Michelin tire man

Papyrus: being gifted a tooth necklace only to find out the teeth are real

Star: a small room where all the walls are white plaster and the only thing left for entertainment is a single crayon that is also white

Honey: no matter how hard he cleans, his oven has this weird meaty smell that just won’t go away like something crawled and died in there.

Red: being trapped in a room full of extroverted happy soccer moms

Edge: getting coughed on multiple times in public but his hands are full so he can’t smack a b*tch

Mal: putting on face paint only to find its permanent. He has become the clown he’s always feared

Cash: biting into a pepper and not being able to taste the burn. In fact, nothing is hot anymore, there’s no spice in his life, everything tastes like sugar, god is dead

Oak: a roomba that has flashing lights, smells like windex and has a butter knife taped to the end at ankle height

Willow: one day, chaos acts like a normal chihuahua and never goes back.

Charm: watching cats 2019 while eating some edibles

Sugar: when that little sh*t with the Cheeto dust fingers sprints into the wedding dress closet

Lord: those packed subway trains in Tokyo. And the creepy old guys have mistakes lord for a schoolgirl

Mutt: having his fan base find the 50k word hunger games smut fanfic he wrote as a joke

Wine: kfc deciding to change their gravy recipie to make it more “low fat”.

Coffee: every single goddamn McDonald’s ice cream machine in ebott being down

Pop: a 12 pack of Red Bull and a bag of pixie sticks

Rhythm: parents demanding a twerk class for their kids

Pluto: finding out that the earth really is flat

Jupiter: waking up one day, looking in the mirror, and seeing that his beautiful muscly arms have become twigs

G: getting every single red light on an hour long bike ride. Every. single. light.

Green: scooping up one of those spiders with a piece of paper and having it explode into hundreds of tiny spiders

Peaches: always breaking the yolk of an egg when he crack it open. Never being able to make a proper omelette again

Rancher: finding out someone made an onlyfans for his farm animals

Snipe: being sent an untraceable package. Inside the large box is a series of smaller boxes until finally he opens the smallest box and inside is a single Kit Kat. There’s a bite taken out. No dna signature was left behind

Bruiser: having to jump an electrified fence while running from the cops. And on the other side of the fence is a pack of small angry dogs

Butch: being told he looks just like his father

Boss: getting a brand new suit and getting splashed by a car the second he steps out the door

Ace: a whole year where nothing illegal happens, no death, no murders, no mysteries. Just boring uneventful peace

Slim: wario x waliuigi brony style fanart

Rust: being about to fix the blockage in the sink when he sees one of the kids reach for the drainage disposal switch

Noir: going out of town to come back and find that a leak in the roof has spilled into his entire bookcase

Lilac: all of his prosthetic legs mysteriously being two inches shorter

Basil: one nice big neighborhood holiday barbecue would do the trick. The ones with the burgers, hot dogs and bacon sizzling on the grill filling the neighborhood with that delicious scent of freedom

#undertale imagines #undertale headcanons #undertale #underswap #underfell #swapfell #horrortale #underlust #fellswap red #fellswap gold #dancetale #outertale #gastertale #mafiatale #mafiafell #mafiaswap #horrorfell #horrorswap

[adamdrivercouldchokeme]

Smutty halloween Clyde request?? “I know they’re just stuffed animals but doesn’t it feel weird? its like they’re watching us.”/“I’m up for it if you are.”/“Why is arson always your first answer?” All these together make me think of something silly and fun? Hope you’re into them, if not no worries ☺️

I truly have no explanation to why this is being posted now when were technically in the Christmas month but enjoy nevertheless! I went to my first pumpkin patch to do a little research for this but I did have to google what one is like too. This is smutty but has a nice sprinkle of fluff here and there. 💖💖 (I also suck at titles)

Pairing: Clyde Logan x Female Reader

Warnings: Unprotected sex, Oral (M and F receiving), Vaginal Fingering, Smut, Creampie and slight mention of a hand around throat but no chocking! There is also multiple mentions of a spider but it’s stuffed. Still not sure what I’m suppose to put here so let me know if I need to add anything!

Word count: 2.9k 

Stuffed Spiders and Smiles

You and Clyde had just spent a wonderful afternoon together, he had taken you to your first pumpkin patch. You had grabbed Clyde’s hand with excitement not knowing what you wanted to do first with him repeatedly having to tell you to slow down and that there was plenty of time to do everything. Eventually having decided to go to the haunted house, which was a lot of fun due to the variety of masked people that jumped out at you both. Clyde made sure to hold onto you just in case you got scared but secretly you knew it was because he wasn’t a fan of things like this but you humoured him by clinging to his arm to comfort him. You don’t know how you did it but you managed to convince Clyde to have a little pumpkin painted on his face to match yours, nodding when they asked if he wanted any glitter added to it. Finally, you got some hot apple cider to sip while you walked along the array of pumpkins, trying to decide which one or five you wanted to take home. You both had picked out big pumpkins, which you had enthusiastically told Clyde you could carve together with a huge grin on your face which made one break out on his face in return.

Before heading home, you asked Clyde if he didn’t mind coming to the store with you so you could pick up a few extra decorations for your house. “Can we go to the store before we go back to my place? I just need a couple more things for the house” Clyde didn’t even need to look at your face to know you were pouting at him, like he could say no to you anyway. “I’ll come in with ya but ya know ya don’t be needin’ no more stuff, the store will have nothin’ left ta sell ya” He sighed before turning to see you smiling at him, he knew he’d do anything to see that smile even if it meant facilitating your addiction to Halloween décor. You park up at the store and hurry to grab Clyde’s hand, lacing your fingers between his and dragging him in. Looking around at all the different items before settling to look at some string lights to hang outside, Clyde loves the way your eyes shine just like the lights you were looking at, he admired the way you looked at everything like you’d never seen it before even when he knew for a fact you would have been in here the other day and a millions other times before that. He was brought out of his thoughts when you decided to throw a stuffed spider at him, laughing as he scrambled to make out what it was and whether or not he wanted to catch it. “Christ (Y/N)!”. Holding the spider in his large paw. “If I found a spider this big in the trailer, hell anywhere, I’d burn the whole thing down!” Clyde huffed. “Why is arson always your first answer? I thought ya life of crime was over” you teased, lowering your voice to try and mimic his. Dodging quickly as he threw the spider right back at you, picking it up and putting it in your cart, Clyde giving you a look. “What? It’s kinda cute, it will go perfect with the others I have” You giggled as you walked away swaying your hips, continuing to look at a few more things before heading to pay. Clyde helps put the bags in his car before getting your door.

Once you got back to your place Clyde again helps bring the bags in, setting them down on the countertop while you searched through a couple to find your new spider. “I’m going to go and put this in my room, want to see how I’ve decorated it?” Flashing Clyde, a smile, the smile that made him weak at the knees. He follows you down the hall to your room, watching as you open the door. He was taken aback by the way you had decorated your room, you’d told him you were going to do it but he thought you may hang a few lights and put up some of those fake spider webs that he’d always walk into when Mellie would decorate the Duck Tape. Taking a quick mental note to ask if you wanted to help her decorate this year and every year after that. He resumes looking around taking in the candles that makes your room smell like spiced apples, the little Jack o’ lantern rug which sat next to your bed, the black bedspread which was littered with tiny ghosts which all had different silly expressions and he notices an orange pillow with spooky wrote in bold, black letters.

Clyde watches as you add your new plush spider to the pile of stuffed toys that lined your windowsill before lying back on your pillows, curling your index finger beckoning him over like a siren. He perched next to you on the bed, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “Ya look so beautiful Darlin, did ya have a good day?” He asked, a small smile on his lips. “Of course, Big Bear! Thank you for taking me out today” You replied, moving so Clyde could now lie back against your pillows as you straddle his hips. “Anythin’ fer ya” He said before bringing you down for a kiss, licking his bottom lip for access which he gladly grants while groaning as you start to slowly move your hips around grinding into his growing bulge. “Darlin, wait” Clyde breathed out, you quickly pull your mouth from his. “Everything okay?” You question, concern in your voice. “I know they’re just stuffed animals, but doesn’t it feel weird? It’s like they’re watching us.” Clyde’s eyes looking from yours to the windowsill full of toys before looking back to you, you lean forward pressing your face into his neck trying to stifle the giggle that still ends up slipping past your lips. Clyde huffs at your reaction his plump lips forming a pout but his breath hitches as you start to press gentle kisses up his neck and over his jaw, stopping next to his ear. “Maybe they could be our own little audience which I’m up for it if you are.” You whisper before carefully nipping his ear lobe, Clyde couldn’t help but buck his hips up slightly at your response. Pressing kisses along his jaw then reconnecting your lips with his, swiping your tongue along his plump bottom lip again asking for access which he grants. Moaning as he licks into your mouth, both of your tongues fighting for dominance before you give into him.

He reaches for the hem of your top only pulling his mouth from yours for a spilt second so he can pull it over your head before tossing it to a random spot in the room. Carding your fingers through his dark hair before slightly tugging close to the root causing Clyde to grunt into your mouth. Pecking his lips once more before pulling off them as his lips try to follow yours, smirking at his reaction. He sits up to give you better access to his shirt buttons which you begin undoing, desperate to get to what’s underneath, giggling as he tries to pepper your neck with kisses, throwing you slightly off balance.

Once his shirt and top have joined yours on the floor you gently push him back onto the bed while placing kisses over the wide expanse of his chest, feeling his ribs expand under your palms as you glide your warm tongue around his nipple before sucking the skin into your mouth, triggering Clyde to grab your waist with his flesh hand, hissing as you pull off him, the cold air hardening the pink bud further. “Sh-Shit Darlin, that feels so good” He moans, voice slightly strained as he watches you bite and suck the swollen nipple. Wrapping his arms around your waist as he involuntarily grinds his bulge against your clothed core, feeling how wet you were getting from his sounds. Moving your lips over to his other nipple to make sure it didn’t feel left out, wondering if you could make him cum from the stimulation but you’d bring that up to him another time. Once satisfied at how puffy and pinks his nipples are you slowly start to move down his body while making sure to leave a trail of hot, wet kisses in your wake, undoing his belt you suck tiny love bites around his stomach knowing the little red marks would eventually turn into bruises making you even wetter knowing you were marking your territory.

With Clyde’s help you pull off his jeans and socks leaving him perfectly bare in front of you, sitting back on your knees you took a minute to admire your tall mountain man. “You’re so handsome, Baby” You tell him, running your nails along his thick thighs, causing him to shudder and blush all the way up to the tips of his ears. “Thank ya, (Y/N). I love ya so much” He replies running his thumb lovingly along your cheek. “I love you too, Clyde” you reply wrapping your hand around his large cock feeling him twitch as you pump him a couple of times before lowering you mouth to his pink, swollen head, poking your tongue out to swipe up the precum that had gathered at the tip. His hand reaches out to hold the back of your head before letting go with an apology. “It’s okay, you can grab me. I’m a big girl, I can take it” You reassure him as you lower your mouth onto him, taking him inch by inch until you couldn’t fit anymore, using your tongue to caress the underside of his cock while your hand strokes what you couldn’t fit. Massaging his balls gently in the palm of your hand while continuing this pattern, looking up at him through your lashes until he couldn’t take anymore.

“St-stop! That’s a nough, I’ll be cumin’ down ya throat if ya carry on” Clyde exclaims as he reluctantly pulls your mouth off his cock with an audible pop, lifting you up to kiss him groaning into your mouth which you happily swallow down for him. “Was that okay, baby?” You ask innocently. “That was more than okay, Babygirl. Just want to be buried in this sweet pussy o’ yours when I cum” His reply making you clench your legs together before he flips you both over so you’re underneath his large frame. He hastily removes your yellow lace bra, your nipples instantly hardening in the cool air before Clyde dives straight in to warm them up, his wet tongue coating your left nipple in his saliva. Sucking and biting while he rolls the stiff peak of the right one between his thick fingertips. Swapping over to give the right one the same attention from his mouth. Writhing and moaning non-stop under his caresses, he pulls off once he is satisfied with how stiff they are.

He helps you pull off the rest of your clothes then letting your legs naturally drop open for your man to settle himself between, staring at your glistening slit. “I know I said those candy apples were sweet earlier but this pussy o’ yers will always be sweeter” Clyde said between planting kisses on your inner thighs, the feel of his facial hair tickling and teasing where his lip met your skin were divine. “Clyde, please stop teasing! I can’t take it, I want you” whining loudly as you try to close your legs. “Look at my Babygirl, all needy for me. Huh?” He questions placing his metal arm around your thigh while placing his hand on your stomach to keep you in place. “Tell me what you want darlin” Clyde asks, mouth hovering just over where you want him most. “Y-your mouth, please” you beg, the feeling of the cold metal of his arm against your hot skin sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. Clyde places a kiss just above your clit causing you to buck slightly as your hands dive into his thick hair, licking a long stripe from your entrance to your clit before circling the hard nub with the tip of his tongue. Clyde moans and groans into your soaked pussy like it’s his last meal, sucking on your clit as he brings his finger down to your entrance, circling it before pushing the thick digit in. You clench around it, pulling harder at his hair as he slowly grinds his member into your mattress for some relief. “Ya think ya can handle another? He asks cockily. “Yes, I can. Please, please” you babble as Clyde adds a second finger with no resistance. Continuing to suck on your swollen clit as his two fingers pump in and out of you before curling up to find that spot inside of you. Your body squirming in his grip when he does. “I’m so close, ohhhh” You whine. “That’s it Darlin, cum for me” he tells you before diving back in and continuing his ministrations at a quicker pace. “I’m gonna cum, fuck! Clyyyyde” You moan, clenching hard around his fingers while your legs squeeze the sides of his head, back arching and toes curling as the pleasure shoots up your spine. Once your whole body feels like jelly and you fall back breathlessly on to you pillows, smiling blissfully at you boyfriend. “Such a good girl, my beautiful girl” Clyde tells you as he pulls his fingers from your soaked entrance bringing them up to his mouth to clean off your arousal, groaning happily at the taste. “Sweeter than those candies fer sure” You laugh in response as you reach your arms out to pull him down for a kiss, slipping your tongue in his mouth and moaning as you taste yourself on his tongue.

Noticing a smudge on his face you turn it to the side, giggling at the remnants of the glittery orange pumpkin that was once there. Looking down at your thigh that now sparkles in the dim lighting of your room. The pair of you laughing at the mess.

You motion for him to lie on his back straddling his waist before gripping his cock to rub your wetness all over his thick length, Clyde swallowing each moan and whimper you produce for him. “Now whose teasin?” You smirk as you grip his large member and run it along your folds before pressing the blunt head against your entrance, slowly pushing down as you moan at the delicious burn from the stretch. Once fully seated Clyde grabs your hips to stop your movements giving himself a minute, overwhelmed by the feeling of your hot cunt steadily pulsing on his length. Pulling you down for an opened mouthed kiss before giving your ass a quick slap. Placing both your palms one his wide chest as he keeps his on your hips, loving the feeling of both his hand squeezing your soft flesh. You begin to slowly grind your hips in circular motions, lifting and sinking back down, the pleasure carrying tingles up from the base your spine. “That’s it, Darlin. Take what ya need from ya Big Bear” Clyde grunts sitting up, your chests pressing together, feeling the rapid beating of your heart. Picking up the pace he thrusts up into you, grabbing the back of your neck with his metal hand and your ass with his other. You feel your second climax beginning to build quickly still being a little sensitive from your previous, you snake your hand down to your swollen clit, gliding your fingers across it. “Baby, I’m so close” You groan into Clyde’s mouth, as he gently wraps his metal hand around your neck so he can look into your glazed eyes, feeling your cunt fluttering around him. “Cum fer me, cum all over ma cock” He demands watching your eyes roll back into your head, your mouth hanging open letting out a shout of his name. Your hot, wet cunt gushes all over his cock, the rhythmic pulses of your pussy grip his cock like a vice. Clyde intensely throws his head back, shutting his honeyed eyes in pleasure as his orgasm begins to rush through his body. A couple more thrusts and his cock throbs wildly before shooting rope after rope of thick cum inside you. “O-oh fuuucccck, I love you” He moans as his climax hits him. “I love you too” you reply, moaning at the feeling of his warm load filling you to the brim. Taking a minute for the pair of you to get your breathing back to normal you lean your forehead against his, content in each other’s presence. Smiling at him before placing a peck to his plump lips moving your head back to see a wide toothy grin on his face. “Ya know what?” Clyde asks. “What?” You reply, pushing the hair from Clyde’s sweaty forehead before tucking it behind his ears to look at his face, your brows furrowing slightly. “Those stuffed toys are still fuckin’ creepy” He tells you, trying to keep a straight face. You laugh swatting at his chest, shaking your head then leaning back in for another sweet kiss.

Tags: @clydesducktape @contesa-lui-alucard @sacklerscumrag @the-wayward-rose @historyandfandoms50

Let me know if you want to be added to a tag list 💖 

#Fuck I'm nervous #I do love a pouty Clyde #clyde logan x reader #clyde logan smut #clyde logan #off to have a cup of tea now

[actuallybarb]

The Aftermath ~ Part 8

Summary: y/n meets the 99th precinct in brooklyn and gets a ride to school with a cop, brad still tries to be friends with her even though she’s told him off multiple times, and pepper potts saves the day, as always

Pairing: peter parker x reader

Warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, trauma, more i’m forgetting

Word Count: 4450

A/N: truly, sorry not sorry. obviously you gotta keep reading tho, it all resolves in the end. 

                                                        //////////

The police were there in fifteen minutes. They had the apartment taped off after five, and two detectives from the ninety-ninth precinct were on the scene after ten. The detectives, Peralta and Diaz, let Dad and I grab a few things before the apartment was entirely given over to the investigation, but there wasn’t much else we could do.

“We’ll let you know as soon as we get the blood results back and if any new developments are made, but for now, just keep trying to find your mom.”

Detective Peralta was talking to me while Diaz took over talking to my dad - he was a little more distraught than I was. (I was 17 years old and had seen a lot of shit, call me heartless.) But something wasn’t sitting right with me about all of this. I looked at the detective with narrowed eyes. “Let’s do everyone a favor and not bullshit, okay? I just want an honest answer: do you think my mom is dead?”

He flinched a little bit and looked around the crime scene, but his eyes looked clear when he answered. “I’ve seen a lot of dead bodies, kid, and you get familiar with how much blood a body has. There’s too much to make me think there’s only one victim here, so we took multiple blood samples. I wouldn’t put the chance of your mom being alive high, but the amount of blood makes me think she might be.”

“Huh. That wasn’t what I was expecting you to answer.” I looked around the apartment though and could tell he was right. “Thanks.”

“If you need anything, give me a call, okay?” I took his card and nodded, then left with Dad again for the second time that day.

“Where are we going to stay?”

Dad scratched the scruff on his jaw and sighed. He looked exhausted, and it wasn’t even two. “I don’t know, sweetheart. I don’t know.” He opened the door to the stairwell (he always took the stairs, a real curse when we lived on the twenty-third floor) and let me lead the way down. “We could get a hotel. I can book it before I go to the hospital and drop you off.”

I slapped my feet on the stairs. As much as I scrubbed my hands in the bathroom, I still felt like there was blood under my fingernails. It still smelled like it, too. And the last thing I needed was to be by myself washing my hands until I got so tired I passed out. “I don’t want to be by myself in a hotel, Dad.” I slowed down, thinking about my options. “I could call Jess. I could stay the night with her then we could get a hotel tomorrow.”

“I don’t want to have to bother her...”

“I don’t want to be alone,” I whispered.

His eyes softened immediately and he needed no other persuasion. “Okay, Y/N. Let’s call her when we get to the lobby.”

“Okay.”

She picked up on the third ring. “Hey, Y/N.”

“Can I stay the night with you?”

“Is everything okay?”

“No. My dad’s going to the hospital tonight and—and—” I couldn’t breathe. Holy shit I couldn’t breathe. Who the hell would do something like this? Where the hell is Mom?

My phone was pulled out of my hand. “Breathe, Y/N. Deep breaths, that’s it.” He pressed the phone to his ear. “Jess? Yeah, it’s me. I can drop her off and we’ll talk then? It’s - it’s bad. Okay, see you soon.” He hung up and leaned down beside me. “You okay?” I nodded as convincingly as I could. “Okay.” He helped me off the ground and we walked slowly to the parking garage.

We eventually made it back into Queens and outside Jessica’s house. She and her husband, Brayden, were waiting for us on the porch.

I ran into her arms as soon as I got out of the car. “Hi.”

“Hi, Y/N. Let’s talk inside.”

I didn’t do much talking. Jess got me a mug of hot chocolate and a blanket and I stared into space while Dad relayed all of the happenings in the last few hours to them. But then he had to go to work, and even though I was with Jess and Brayden, I still felt alone. I guess I was more distraught than I thought.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow and we’ll sort things out, okay? I love you.”

“I love you too.” He drove off, and I curled in on myself.

“Come on, let’s talk.” Jess lightly touched my arm and I followed her up to her room. She opened the french doors to the balcony and we both took a seat, but even the blanket I had wrapped around my shoulders couldn’t keep out my chill. “I’m not going to make you go to school tomorrow. But you should probably tell someone so you don’t get behind on work.”

I nodded numbly, then sent Peter a text.

I won’t be at school tomorrow, will you get my work?

Course. Everything okay?

Not enough energy. Thanks Pete

Any time Y/N

Jess nudged my foot with her own. “What’s going through your head?”

I put my chin on my curled up knees and sighed. “There was so much blood, Jess. The detective thinks there might be a chance she’s still alive, but it was everywhere. And I can’t help but think that this person is coming after me, because of everything. Venice, Prague, London, even helping Spider-Man clear his name. Maybe Mom was just in the way, so they got rid of her.”

“You can’t blame yourself for this, Y/N. It’s not your fault.”

“Doesn’t stop me from feeling guilty,” I mumbled.

The sun started to set and my stomach started to grumble; the only thing I had eaten all day were Sam’s pancakes. Delicious, but not a fix-all. Brayden made dinner - grilled chicken and mashed potatoes - and I got to sit beside their little girl, Hayley, who was getting the hang of small full sentences by now.

“I like you.”

“Well that’s good, considering we’ve been sitting next to each other for the last twenty minutes. I like you too, Hayley. I’m glad we get to be friends.” As much as I hated using a three-year-old as a coping mechanism, Hayley was an easy distraction. She didn’t have to worry about dead bodies and superpowers and the chemistry test on Tuesday.

Shit, the chemistry test. I was still missing some notes. And, as much as it surprised myself, I didn’t want to ask Peter for them. But I knew someone else in that class.

Eugene, will you send me the notes from Monday?

Finally realizing your sleeping endeavors were poorly timed?

Stop using big words and send me the notes

Why don’t you just ask Parker? Aren’t you two attached at the hip?

Believe it or not, Eugene, I’m actually trying to form some semblance of a friendship here, and you’re kind of ruining my plan (okay, I wasn’t trying to make a friendship, but it’s something Taylor’s griped about for months, so might as well try with someone who won’t get offended at my relentless roasting.)

The fact that your grammar is perfect even when you text is infuriating. Whatever, I’ll send them. And don’t think I’ve forgotten about the favor you owe me.

Of course not, Eugene. Thanks

I grabbed my backpack and started copying down the notes, but even though I was asleep for some of the class, I could tell Flash didn’t have all of the content. There was one other person I could text before Peter. But we weren’t necessarily speaking.

Hey can you send me the chem notes from Monday?

yeah sure. ready for the test on tuesday?

Hell no, why do you think I’m cramming now 😂

and then we have that english paper due on friday 🤢

If I fall over dead in the middle of the test on Tuesday do you think we’ll all get an A?

i’ll take one for the team if you don’t

Haha sounds good. Thanks MJ

no problem

Thank god MJ actually took good notes. Combined with her’s and Eugene’s, those pages of notes were better than any I had actually taken in class. Maybe I would actually do well on this test. But that was a cramming problem for tomorrow.

///////////

Hayley reminded me a lot of Morgan: too smart for her own good. Jess called in sick to work so the three of us stayed home and watched Disney movies, but Hayley was starting to guess the endings halfway through. I mean, they’re all pretty predictable, but she’s only three. She had just guessed the ending for Brave when my phone started ringing.

It was Peter.

“Hey, Peter.”

“Y/N what the hell is going on?”

My blood went cold. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t bullshit me, Y/N. I went by your apartment to drop off the notes I got for you and it was covered in police tape and blood. Wha- Is everything okay?”

I couldn’t get the words to come out of my mouth. I couldn’t say anything, let alone answer his question. So I just texted him my location.

“I’ll be there soon.” He didn’t wait for an answer, which was probably for the best.

He pulled up to the curb half an hour later. “May let me borrow her car.”

“I didn’t know you got your license.”

“Right before Europe, actually.”

“Oh.” I sat on the porch steps with plenty of room for Peter, and he just sat and looked at me. Waiting for me to start talking. “Thanks for getting my notes.”

“Yeah, no problem. There’s a review for the chem test in there, too, but it’s not an actual assignment.”

“Oh, okay.” I brought my knees up a step and wrapped my arms around them. We sat in silence for a while, but he came over for a reason, and if I was going to tell anyone about what happened, I’d want Peter to know. “We found it after we dropped you off at your apartment.”

“The blood?”

I nodded. “We opened up the door and there was blood everywhere, and my mom wasn’t home, which was weird, because she’s usually making something in the kitchen on Sunday afternoons. So we called the police, and they took some blood samples, and I stayed with Jess last night because my dad was on-call at the hospital and I- I didn’t want to be alone.”

“Have they called with any news?”

“Not yet. But hopefully they’ll get the blood samples back and know whose it is.”

Peter just sat in silence for a second. “Are you doing okay?”

I scoffed and rolled my eyes, trying to put a semblance of a smile on my face. “What do you think?”

The corner of his lip lifted up. “Yeah, I figured.” He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and let me lean against him. “When’s your dad supposed to get back?”

When was he supposed to get back? It was getting closer to five, and he was usually home around then. I checked my phone, but there were no new messages. “Hold on,” I told Peter, and I called Dad’s cell.

No answer.

I called the hospital. “Southwest Mercy Hospital, how can I help you?”

“Is Doctor Y/L/N in right now?”

“Might I ask who’s calling?”

“Y/N Y/L/N. His daughter.

“One moment please.” A few taps on the other end. “No, he’s not. He was actually supposed to come in last night, but he never showed up.”

“Can you call me back if he shows up?”

“Of course.”

I hung up.

Where the fuck is he?

Why didn’t he show up at work?

There was something warm in my hand, and it took me a second to recognize it as Peter’s own hand. “Hey,” he said softly, “it’s going to be okay.”

“My dad’s missing, Peter,” I wanted to shout, but it was barely a whisper. “My dad and my mom, in less than forty-eight hours. That can’t be a coincidence.”

“We should call the police. If they’re really connected, they’ll be the ones to figure out how.”

I nodded in agreement and pulled out Detective Peralta’s card. “This is Jake Peralta.”

“Detective Peralta? This is Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Wow, what timing, we were actually just about to call you. Is your dad with you by chance?”

“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.” I squeezed Peter’s hand as tight as I could. “My dad is missing.”

“What? Are you sure?”

“He was supposed to work the night shift at the hospital last night and he never showed up. And he’s not answering his phone.”

Peralta was scribbling something down frantically. “Would you be able to come by the precinct, Y/N? We found something interesting in your apartment that you’ll want to see.”

“Okay.”

“Okay, we’ll see you soon.”

I hung up and pressed the palms of my hands over my eyes. “God, when did my life become a living nightmare?”

“Five years ago,” Peter said, “when everyone turned into dust.”

I can’t argue with that. I stood up, brushed off my jeans, and sighed. He stood up beside me, and, completely unprompted, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and held on tight. “Thank you,” I mumbled into his neck.

His arms wrapped around my waist. “Call me when you hear something, okay?”

I pulled back and nodded, then kissed him on the cheek. (I was unbelievably upset and needy and decided I was not going to deny myself the simple wants of physical contact with Peter Parker. Sue me.) “I’ll see you tomorrow.” I ran back inside and had a quick conversation with Jess and Brayden (who somehow got into the house without me noticing, weird) and he handed her the keys to his car. We were on the road a minute later.

“It’s not necessarily linked with what happened to your mom, Y/N,” Jess tried to console me as we trudged through traffic to the 99th precinct in Brooklyn. “It could be completely unrelated.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s any less terrifying, Jess.”

“No, it doesn’t. But it could just be a coincidence.”

“I don’t believe in coincidences,” I said as we reached the parking garage. The man at the front desk told us which floor, and I was too anxious to wait for the elevator so I ran up the stairs. I waited for Jess before I walked in, but it hardly made a difference; I’m sure I still looked like a crazy person.

An extremely muscled man approached us first. “Can I help you?”

“I’m here for Detective Peralta,” I wheezed out, still catching my breath.

“He’s the second desk on the left.”

“Thank you.” Detective Peralta turned around and shook both of our hands. “What do you have on my mom?”

He brought over another chair for Jess and sat behind his desk. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to get the information for your dad first. Just so we can get an APB out for him as soon as possible.”

“Oh, sure.”

“Okay, when was the last time you saw him?”

“Last night, around 5? His night shift usually starts around 6.”

“And where was he?”

“He had dropped off Y/N at my house, we talked for about ten minutes, then he left for his shift.” Jess told him her address and where Dad worked while I looked around the precinct. Peralta’s desk had a picture with him and another detective and a little girl between them. Detective Diaz’s desk was across the little walkway, and there was a man at a secluded desk in his own office.

I kept looking around at the office until Jess put a hand on my arm. “Sorry, what?”

“We got the results from the blood samples. There were two different bloods in the apartment, like I thought, so I got forensics to use a UV light and some sort of magic I can’t explain to differentiate between the two. And this is what came up.” He slid over a picture and five words were shining against the mass amounts of blood.

I know who you are.

“Whose blood is it?”

He took the picture back. “Your mom’s. But those are the only traces of it we could find.”

“And the rest of it?”

“The DNA isn’t in our system. We contacted the FBI and CIA to see if anything comes up in their systems, but we haven’t gotten any results yet. Y/N.” He leaned forward, extremely serious. “Because of the message left behind and the fact that your dad is now missing, we want to relocate you to a safe house —“

“No.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I’m not hiding.”

“Y/N,” Jess started, but I cut her off.

“If they’re actually trying to scare me, I’m not going to let them go after anyone else I care about. Let them come for me.”

“Y/N, you could be in serious danger. We shouldn’t take this lightly.”

“I’m not. But this person already took my mom and my dad. They’re not getting anyone else.”

Peralta and Jess looked at each other, but Jess knew me better than most; she knew I wouldn’t budge on this. “Okay,” he conceded, “no safe house. But I’d like to have a detail on you, just in case, okay?” I nodded. That wasn’t the issue. Besides, if I wanted to go to a safe house, I’d just go upstate.

Detective Peralta walked us to the door of the precinct. “We’ll keep a look out for your dad’s car and let you know if it comes up. Officer Mason will be keeping an eye on your house tonight. Take care of yourself, Y/N.”

“Thanks.” It was closer to eight, and I still had that stupid chemistry test tomorrow, but all I wanted was to fall asleep and never wake up.

But that wasn’t how the world worked, and I was up until one studying. Jess handed me a to-go cup of coffee when I walked into the kitchen right before school, and I raised it to her before taking a sip. “See you later.”

“Have a good day.”

I walked down the steps and knocked on the window of the patrol car outside of the house. Officer Mason started and looked around, then rolled down the window. “What’s up?”

“Can you give me a ride to school?”

He looked at me like I was incredulous. He wasn’t wrong, but still. “That’s not really what I’m here to do, kid.”

“You’re here to keep an eye on me, right? So let’s go.” I pulled on the handle until he unlocked the car and let me in.

I got to school with five minutes to spare (shout out to Officer Mason for running that last red light). My Spanish book was so unused it collected dust on it, but I brushed it off quickly before I walked into class. I took my spot among the few in class and looked over Peter’s notes from the day before, just in case there was a pop quiz.

“Hey.”

Shit. Brad.

“What do you want?”

“You weren’t here yesterday, and you showed up today in a cop car. Everything good?”

I rolled my eyes and looked up at him. “Why the hell would you think I would tell you anything personal about my life ever?“

“I was just asking, Y/N, fuck.”

“I don’t like Brad either.” Peter sat beside me and gave me a small smile.

“I think most of that has to do with the fact that he tried to make a move on MJ.”

“And the fact that he took a picture of me in my underwear and was going to show it to everyone in Europe.”

“Everyone in Europe? That’s pretty big, Peter, you could’ve been famous.”

“For almost-nudes I didn’t even take,” he said with a smile. “What did the detective say?”

The bell rang and Peter flinched just slightly. “I’ll tell you after class.”

No pop quiz, and lunch was turkey and gravy. I was feeling slightly better, and I remembered almost everything I needed to study for the chem test. I was halfway through it, feeling good, when Principal Morita was at the door of the lab, asking for me. I looked up, and none other than Detective Peralta was standing beside him, giving me a look full of nothing but pity.

My heart dropped down to my stomach.

I looked over at Peter and his eyes were as wide as mine, his heart racing. But there was nothing he could do.

I left my test at my seat, grabbed my backpack, and met Mr. Morita and Peralta in the hallway. “What did you find?”

“We found your dad’s car, and I had forensics do the same test as the one in your apartment. This is what they found.”

I know what you did.

“I need you to come into the station, Y/N. We need to ask you a couple of questions.”

I looked between the two adults and could feel my heart rate rising. “I, uh — I didn’t finish my test.”

Mr. Morita spoke up. “I’ll talk to Mrs. Phelps and make sure you can finish it later in the week.”

“Okay.” I followed him to his squad car and sat in the back, making me feel like I had actually done something wrong.

Detective Diaz joined us in the interrogation room at the Nine-Nine, and I could feel two others behind the mirror. But none of them stopped me from being set on edge.

“Y/N, I hate for having to bring you out like this, but we need some answers. What is this second picture about?”

I shifted around in my seat. Where to even start? “I’m not going to talk with the people behind the mirror.”

Peralta sputtered. “What? There’s no one behind the —“ Diaz glared at him and he stopped. “We have them there as a precaution, Y/N, they’re detectives too.”

“Either they join us in here or they leave, but I’m not talking to someone without being able to see their faces.”

They looked at each other for a second before Peralta turned to the mirror and motioned for them to leave. I felt their footsteps retreat down the hall until I couldn’t feel them anymore, then I at least let my shoulders drop. Just a little bit.

“You guys remember Quentin Beck from the summer? The Mysterio guy who fought the Elementals?”

“Yeah, that dick that said Spider-Man murdered him?”

“Yeah, him. He kind of... hijacked our field trip.” I told them everything; well, almost everything. “Beck blackmailed me into helping him with his plan, so I, uh... I ended up hurting a lot of people. That’s probably what this person is talking about. It could be a family member, or one of Beck’s crewmen.”

“Why would one of the crew come after you, you’re just a kid.” Diaz hadn’t said much, but she was an observer, like me. I just wish I could shove away my emotions like her.

“I, uh, kind of got them all put in prison after they put up the video of Beck outing Peter Parker as Spider-Man.”

“Oh. Well that would do it.”

Peralta thought for a second then spoke up. “We’ll keep an eye on the families of the crew, see if anyone has a similar timeline to the disappearances. Until then,” he put his hand down on the table and looked me in the eye, “I have to insist that you stay in a safe house, Y/N. Staying anywhere else could put yourself and others in danger.”

Staying in a place by myself made me want to throw up. But I could see how selfish it was.

“One more night. One more night, and then I’ll go. And I want to stay at my own safe house.”

“You have a safe house?”

I shrugged. “I know a — a person.”

They glanced at each other again. “Okay, we’ll talk about it. But I want to talk to them. Today.”

“Fine.” I pulled out my phone and clicked on Pepper’s contact. She picked up on the first ring.

“Y/N. Is everything okay?”

I laughed lightly, even though nothing about this situation was funny. “Not even close. So much has happened in the last three days.” I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed. “I, uh, need to come up to the compound tomorrow, but I need you to talk to these detectives.”

“You’re freaking me out, Y/N, what’s going on?”

“I’m going to put you on speaker.” I set the phone on the table. “I need to go to a safe house, and I figured the compound is the best place to go. But these detectives have some questions.”

“Okay.”

“Hello, ma’am, my name is Detective Jake Peralta, I’m here with my partner, Detective Rosa Diaz, and we’re concerned for Y/N’s safety. We’ve been trying to get her to go to a safe house provided by the Nine-Nine, but she says she’ll only go to her own safe house. Mostly we just need to verify that the location is legit and we need a squad car there at all times. Would you be able to come to the Ninety-Ninth Precinct in Brooklyn so we can talk in person?”

“Um, I’m not actually in New York right now, but I could be there by tomorrow. Could I come by in the morning?”

“That should be fine. Can we get a name?”

“Pepper Potts.”

They both balked. Their eyes got huge and they looked at me with disbelief. “Pepper Potts?”

“That’s right.”

“Okay, we look forward to meeting with you tomorrow.”

“Perfect. And, Y/N? You better call me back within the next hour about what is going on.”

“Yes ma’am.” She hung up and I tucked my phone back in my pocket. “Am I good to go?”

“You know Pepper Potts?”

“I told you, I cleared Spider-Man’s name. I have a lot of connections.” I stood up and opened the door, deciding for myself that the interrogation was over.

“You know Spider-Man?”

“Jake’s loved Spider-Man since the first video came out on YouTube,” Diaz said. “He won’t admit that he has a fan account, but I think he does.”

I laughed. “Yeah, I know Spider-Man.”

“Can you get me his autograph?”

I glanced at him. “Yeah, I guess.”

Officer Wade drove me back to Jess’s, and I happily left her at the curb.

I had an important phone call to make.

tags: @eridanuswave​ @vampirestrawberries​ @yougottalovefandoms​

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker series #peter parker oneshot #marvel #marvel comics #spiderman #spiderman far from home #avengers #reader insert #peter parker x mj #ned leeds #michelle jones #flash thompson #mcu

[sherrybaby14]

Blue Spiders - Chapter 2

Summary:  Fear pushes your relationship along.

Warnings:  Light horror, background alcohol, (I have not warned for everything possible, please read at your own risk)

Words: 2k

Pairing:  Therapist! Steve Rogers x female reader

Part One

She lived in an apartment.  That was problematic.  Houses were much easier to break in to undetected.  At least it wasn’t in a great neighborhood and the locks on her doors were pathetic.  All he needed was a credit card to break them.  He accomplished that task this morning.

Steve in no way wanted her death tied to him or the New England Butcher. The kill would be a quick one.  Gunshot, he hoped for a mugging gone bad, but it appeared she never left her place after dark.  

Ten days he had been watching her, observing, waiting for the moment to strike.  But she was always home before sundown, never to retreat again.  He wouldn’t risk a daytime public murder.  Too many loose ends.  

It looked like the next option would be breaking and entering.  Doable, but not ideal.  Look like a robbery.  Bullet to the head and the world would have one less awful person in it.  

Under normal circumstances Steve felt nothing when preparing for a kill.  Sometimes a mild rush of glee during the act and then a bit of euphoria after, especially if it was a victim he intended Agent Barnes to tie to the New England Butcher.  

But this felt different. Personal.  The few times he spotted her during the day he felt betrayed.  How could she lie to him about her identity to get a profile for some dumb blog?  And why did he feel a connection.  

His watch beeped and he checked the time.  Three thirty in the morning.  She would be fast asleep.  It would be over soon.  Then the euphoria would come just as it had with the others.  He was certain of it.  

The sound of his car door slamming echoed across the empty street as he began his walk in the shadows, four blocks away from his destination.  

~~

   You didn’t believe in a sixth sense, or you didn’t want to, but something was off.  Wrong.  You were being followed.  Could it be him?

   You finally felt somewhat safe here.  Comfortable enough you followed your passion and started to make a name for yourself.  Sure Miranda’s Museum of the Macabre wasn’t a big deal yet, but you were growing a following and you loved that type of reporting.  

   The last few days you were cursing yourself for even starting the thing.  Today when you got home and saw the locks weren’t working your paranoia vanished.  

   Whoever broke them was subtle about it.  If you hadn’t been paranoid you wouldn’t have noticed, thought that the chain was shut tight when a light tap would drop it.  The deadbolt hole was splintered and pressed back into place.  Anyone with a driver’s license and a shoulder would be able to break the thing down.  

   The right thing would have been to run, or call the police.  Neither option was intriguing.  So you sat next to the thing, waiting in the darkness.  Every time footsteps sounded outside the hall you steadied the shotgun, blinking away the tears that you might have to blow someone’s head off.  

   Maybe you were going crazy.  The locks had always been broken and you only noticed now?  Maybe nobody was following you.  Just the ghosts of your past.  

   Then, at almost four in the morning after standing guard for eight hours footsteps stopped in front of your door.  

   Your adrenaline flared.  You cocked the gun right as your knob started to turn.  It froze.  Fuck! They heard the noise.  

   The handle fell back in place.  They were leaving.  All the shaking you were feeling came flooding back.

   You needed to open the door.  Find out who they were, what they wanted.  But instead you collapsed, hugging the shotgun as the footsteps retreated.   Would you ever be safe?

~~

   Loss of sleep was an understatement.  Tonight you would get a hotel room.  Then decide if you wanted to call the cops, fix the door, or flee.  Life was exhausting enough and it felt like you’d only just started living.  

   The door to the office opened and you rose to your feet, pinning on your best smile as Dr. Rogers walked a patient out.  

   His face looked cold, but his blue eyes widened with surprise.  

   “Hi.”  You gave a nervous wave.  “I have something for you.”  

   His patient waved goodbye as you stepped forward, article in hand.  

   “What is this?”  He grabbed the pages.  

   “The article.  I said I would send over a copy, but I thought with the way things ended I should drop one off in person.”  You fidgeted, thinking about your run in with Barnes the last time.  “As promised, a glowing puff piece.  It will be in the weekend edition.”  

   You watched as his eyes’ scanned the pages.  His brow furrowed in confusion.  

   “Is something wrong?”  You rocked on your feet, hoping to see what line he was at.  “I taped the interview, but if I messed up a fact or misspoke there is time to correct before it goes to print.”  

   “So the article was real?”  The Doctor looked up at you with wide eyes.  “It wasn’t a ruse for your blog?”

   “Ah.”  You bit your lip as you looked away.  “I am sure Agent Barnes gave you an earful.  Yes the story was real.  I write human interest pieces,  Miranda’s Museum doesn’t really pay the bills.”  

   “So this is your real name?”  Steve squinted.  “Rachelle Miller?”  

   “No.”  You blinked.  “I write under multiple pen names.”  

   “So what is your real name?”  Steve folded his arms.  

   “Friends call me Vee.”  You shrugged.  

   “That’s not what I asked.”  His eyes locked on to yours.  

   You hadn’t spoken your real name in years.  Legally it was changed, and with all the pseudonyms you used you hadn’t spoken it outloud in years.  

   “Well, um, I will get out of your hair.  I am sure you have a busy day.  E-mail me if there are problems with the article.”  Your blood ran hot and you regretted coming here.  

   “No.”  His hand reached out and grabbed your arm.  

   You glanced at his fingers and then turned to see his intensite eyes bearing into your own.  His fingers slipped away.  

   “I mean with all do respect, but you look a little rough.”  He nodded to his office.  “Come in and have a drink.  I owe you an apology.”  

   “Me?”  You blinked and shook your head.  “Did Bucky tell you I am just a gossip columnist and was lying to you?  Using you for Miranda’s nefarious purposes?”  

   “Doctor-patient confidentiality.”  He made a playful shrug.  

   “Yeah.  I bet he left out the part where he asked me out nonstop for over a year until I was forced to write something nasty about him on my blog.”  You thought about the person at your door last night,  could it have been Bucky?  He didn’t seem the most stable.  “I may have crossed a line, but what I wrote wasn’t wrong and he,  well I think anyone who has met the man isn’t afraid to use the word obsessive to describe him.”  

   “I cannot confirm, deny, or discuss Agent Barnes.”  Doctor Rogers walked over to a small liquor cabinet.  “What would you like?”  

   “Bourbon?  Scotch?”  You took a seat.  “I’ll settle for anything brown with a nice burn.”  

   “Multiple pen names?”  The doctor came back over and handed you a drink.  “How many?”

   “Three I use on the regular.  I do a lot of freelance writing and they each have their own specialty.  Then several one offs.  I have used them one or two times and let them die.”  You took a sip and let the liquid hit your tongue, wanting to swirl it around your mouth and wishing it would numb your mind in the same way.  

   “Care to share why?”  He sat down and crossed his legs.  “That seems like a lot of compartmentalism.”

“Not a patient.”  You laughed as you leaned back.  

“Let me guess, they are all as generic as Miranda Balfour, Rachelle Miller?”  Dr. Rogers leaned back in his chair.  “You want a legitimate digital footprint, but not one that can be traced back to you.  Why?”  

“You sound like Bucky.”  You tilted your glass toward him.  “Only he has decided Miranda must be my real name.  I would not try to do a deep dive on me Doctor.  I am not interested in opening up.”  

“I am not your Doctor.  Please, call me Steve.”  His eyes scanned you up and down.  “You look very tired.  Late night?  I hope it wasn’t on my behalf.”  

“It was and it wasn’t.  In that order.”  You let out a sigh.  “Since you’re not my doctor Steve, and you can’t think I’m crazy since there is no medical relationship. I think someone, no, I know someone tried to break into my apartment early this morning.”

“Did you call the police?” A look of horror crossed his face as he leaned forward.  “You should not wait on that.”  

“I am not a fan of cops and they are not my fan either.”  You gritted your teeth before taking another sip.  “I cocked my gun too early.  Someone had been following me, all week.  I felt it in my bones.  And then I noticed my locks had been messed with.  So I waited and I felt so paranoid, but then the clock hits 3:44 and the handle jiggles.  I should have let the door open, blown their brains out without asking a single question.  But they heard the noise.  Ran off before I had the chance.”  

“There is a lot to unpack there.”  Steve reached out and touched your knee.  “Are you safe?”

“No.”  You smiled at him.  “Never.  I’m going to get a hotel room tonight.  Figure things out from there.  Get some sleep, a clear head.”  

“If you think someone is targeting you, you shouldn’t stay alone.”  His hand dragged away.  “Friends or family you can stay with?”  

“What was the line you used?  My work doesn’t leave much time for personal relationships.  I’m either writing a freelance story of working on the Miranda project.  Hoping someday it takes off and I can do that full time.”  

“I apologize for being so forward, but I can be your friend, or else your colleague in the work horse force.”  Steve set his glass down.  “And I have plenty of extra bedrooms.”  

You didn’t mean to display the cringe, and tried to bury it down, but there was a pain on his face.

“That is a very kind offer.”  You slammed the rest of your drink.  “But you are not my doctor, or my friend, you’re a stranger right now and I wouldn’t feel comfortable imposing.”  

“I understand.”  Steve grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled as you stood up.  “I would like to take you to dinner, are you free Friday?”  

“Now you’re really going to think I’m crazy, but with the strange feeling I was being followed and the incident last night, I have been scared to leave my apartment after dark.”  The liquor had relaxed your tongue too much.  “Well, now hotel.”  

“I will pick you up at your door, we can go to my place and I’ll cook for you, and then I will drive you home.”  There was something in his voice, this was the first time he had made this request in some time.  “You will be safe the entire time.”

“Alright.”  You couldn’t explain it, but there was a feeling in your heart, like it was drawn to his.  Not mental, like a strange string was pulling you tigher.  “I am staying at the budget in on Wilcox.”  

He opened his mouth, but shut it right away and nodded.  You started to walk to the door and he followed.  Being in his office was the most relaxed you’d been in some time.  

“Friday then.”  He slipped you a piece of paper, you opened it up to see a phone number.  

“I can’t remember the last time someone didn’t just text me their number.”  You smiled eat him.  “You are old fashioned in all the right ways.”  

“Feel free to put that in your phone and use it.”  Steve looked serious.  “Any time, day or night.  I don’t approve of your distrust of law enforcement or wanting assistance, but I respect it.  Never hesitate to call if you need anything.”  

“Thank you.”  You looked at the ground, not wanting to face those blue eyes again, scared if you did you would end up being a roommate at the man's house.  “And thank you for believing me.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”  He was taken aback.  

“Sometimes I’m not even sure I believe myself.”  You blinked away tears and squared your shoulders looking him in the eyes.  “Anyone else would have told me it was late, I was tired, I almost killed a delivery man.”  

“I look forward to continuing this conversation on Friday.”  Steve gave a boyish grin.  “Or sooner, if you need anything at all.”  

“Friday then.”  You folded up the piece of paper and put it in your back pocket.  

It was odd to find something to look forward to and for a moment you wished you were crazy and not thinking about fleeing and starting over yet again.  

A/N:  Thanks for reading!  This is turning into a bit of a slow burn, but I think the next chapter will heat up! 

Tags:  @toozmanykids​

#steve rogers x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #marvel #hannibal #au #marvel fanfic

[theladyofdeath]

Alone in the Ashes {4}

A Court of Thorns and Roses fanfction, characters belong to Sarah J Maas. Modern au. Revolves around Nesta x Cassian, Feyre x Rhysand, and Elain x Azriel. Other characters appear throughout. Based on multiple prompts sent in by anons tbr below.

Warning: Mature content. Alcohol abuse, verbal abuse, sex, language, eating disorders.

For summary & chapter index, click >  Alone in the Ashes {Acotar}

Word Count: 4.0k

A/N: Sexual tension, anyone?

Also, shoutout to John Hughes for making some kickass movies in the 80s.

Comment to tell me what you think, or to be tagged! x

“As he read, I fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once.” ― John Green, The Fault in Our Stars 

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard you that you forget you ever met that asshole.” 

Feyre’s eyes flared, her fingers slowly running down Rhysand’s chest. His skin was warm, his heart nearly pounding out of his chest. He’d forgotten how to breathe. 

“Is that so?” she crooned, those slim, delicate fingers trailing down his abdomen, until they were looped in the waistband of his jeans. 

A strangled noise fell out of his mouth, his head tilted back, his eyes closed. 

“I love exploring you,” Feyre whispered, her lips pressing tenderly against his neck, just below his jaw, down to his collarbone. “Your neck, your shoulders…” Her tongue slid down his chest, lips pressed against his stomach, praising each defined muscle. 

His jeans came undone.

Her lips wrapped around his-

A loud crash came from the kitchen and Rhysand shot up in his bed, sheets wrapped around his body. The crash came again, and Rhysand was on his feet. Between his bed and the end of the hallway, Rhysand thought of as many horrible, miserable things as possible to help his heart stop racing, and his cock not be so painfully erect. 

“Feyre?” he called, rounding the corner into the kitchen. 

She was standing on the countertop, one of Rhysand’s shoes in her hand, concentrating on a corner above the cabinets.

Rhysand let out a long, slow breath. “What the hell are you doing? It’s seven in the morning.”

“Yes it is, and I’m getting ready for work,” Feyre said, keeping her concentration. 

Rhysand’s eyes lingered on her legs, her black boyshorts, for a second too long. “I think we need to set a rule of wearing robes in the house when we aren’t wearing pants.”

Feyre did look over her shoulder at this, brow raised. “Don’t act like you’ve never seen a woman in her underwear before. Just because you didn’t get any last night doesn’t mean you’ve never gotten any.” 

An image popped into his mind from the dream he was so horribly awoken from with her obnoxious banging. He looked to the floor where a pan and a cookie sheet had landed. She must have knocked them down when she was climbing across the countertop.

“If you’re done mocking me, would you like to enlighten me as to why you’re finding such fascination in the tops of the cabinets?” he asked, leaning against the doorway. 

“Yeah, well,” Feyre sighed, leaning up on her tiptoes. “I was about to make myself some eggs, right? Then a bigass spider came out of nowhere, and I panicked, so I started trying to kill it - obviously - and...well, it climbed up, and now it went somewhere up here, but I lost it.”

“So, maybe you should come down, then,” Rhysand laughed, coming up behind her. “Come on.”

He grabbed her waist and pulled her down. With a yelp, Feyre fell into his arms. 

She looked at him, eyes narrowed, and Rhysand couldn’t convince himself to put her down. Her hair was a mess, her face clear, eyes bright. She was smiling, brightly, as she looked up at him, her arms around his neck. 

“Thank you,” she said, laughing. “Now, if you could find Harold, it’s time for him to meet his death.” 

Rhysand grinned. “Harold?”

“The spider, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Rhysand repeated. 

They stood like that for a moment, the early morning light pouring into the kitchen, Feyre cradled in Rhysand’s arms. 

Feyre’s smile had grown soft. She was still looking up at him as he cleared his throat, and set her down on the tile. 

“Well, if you’ll excuse me,” Feyre began, quietly. “I have to get ready to go.”

“No eggs?” Rhysand asked, taking a step back. 

“No time! Spent it all hunting a spider,” she said, disappearing down the hallway. “Have to be in the office at eight.” 

She closed herself in the bathroom at the end of the hall.

Rhysand couldn’t move from the middle of the kitchen.

He wanted her.

His body ached for her, it was all he could think about it. All he could dream about. Just now, holding her in his arms, against his chest, smiling up at him...He was in love with her.

Being in love with someone who didn’t love you back was an odd sensation. A personal hell, one that he never wanted to leave, because if he left, he would lose her, and having her as his friend was better than not having her at all.  

Then again, what if he did tell her? What if he risked it, and pulled her aside, and poured out his heart and his soul? Even if she pushed him away, wouldn’t it be better to get everything out, lay everything out on the table?

But it was that chance, that risk, that part of him that knew that if he told her, she would have him. She would control him. And it wasn’t that he didn’t want to be controlled by her. Being controlled by Feyre was not what scared him. 

But having his heart broken by her terrified him.

If he told Feyre how he felt, and she didn’t feel the same, and he lost her...the thought was unbearable. 

He was still standing in the kitchen when she got out of the bathroom, and by the time she had gotten dressed and left her bedroom, he had at least moved to the table and was sipping a cup of coffee. 

In a set of deep purple scrubs, she pulled a cup out of the cabinet and poured the rest of the coffee in it before securing it with a lid. 

“Wanna do take-out tonight?” she asked. “Maybe watch a movie?” 

“Sure,” Rhysand said. “I’ll be home just after seven.”

She nodded, ruffled his hair, and left.

Rhysand stayed at the table for an hour, his coffee cup empty for the majority of it, before finally getting off his lovesick ass and getting ready for work. 

~~~~~

“Uncle Az,” Mila called from where she sat on the garage steps, playing a game on his phone. “I’m hungry.”

Azriel had the garage door up and his tape-measure out. The Archerons had cleaned all the bins out the day before, thankfully, because it had been full of clutter. 

“Look in the backpack,” he said. “There’s some crackers.”

“I want chicken nuggets.”

“Maybe for lunch.”

“When’s lunch?”

“A few hours.”

Mila groaned. “I’m so bored.”

“We’ve only been here for twenty minutes.” It was going to be a long day, Azriel was sure of it. Bringing a four year old to work wasn’t ideal, but he had to do what he had to do. 

He got another hour and a half in before she had to use the restroom. He sighed, setting down his water bottle, and knocked on the door that went from the garage to the kitchen.

Elain opened it a second later, as if she’d been sitting just inside.

“Hey, sorry to bother you,” Azriel began, rubbing the back of his neck. “I have my niece with me.. Can she use your bathroom?”

Elain blinked. “Of course. Come in.” 

Azriel stepped inside, Mila close behind, yelling, “I have to pee!” 

Elain laughed, quietly. “Just around the corner.” 

With a mumbled thanks, Azriel walked her to the bathroom. Mila closed the door after ordering Azriel to stay put, right outside.

“Can I get you anything?” Elain asked, from the end of the hall. “While you work?” 

“No, Azriel said. “Thank you.” 

“I have a few board games,” Elain began, nodding toward the door. “I have nowhere to go. She can play with me while you work.” 

Azriel hesitated. He was protective of Mila, but then again, Elain was Feyre’s sister, she couldn’t be that bad. She seemed a little too into herself, if Azriel had any say in it, but harmless. “I don’t wanna be a burden. I’ll try to find a sitter after toda-”

“I really don’t mind,” she said, smiling. 

Azriel nodded, curtly, as Mila opened the door.

Azriel narrowed his eyes. “Wash your hands?”

Mila nodded.

“Alright, this is Elain, she says she has some games you can play together while I work for a while,” he said, head tilted. “Cool?”

“Cool,” Mila repeated. “I like games.” 

“Come get me if you need anything,” he said.

Mila nodded, and clapped, excitedly. “Yay! Games!”

With a chuckle, Azriel nodded his thanks to Elain and went back into the garage. There would be a lot to do, and in these big projects, Azriel always found himself overwhelmed at first. He had to remember not to look at the end product, but at each little project, individually. 

By the end of the afternoon, he had the garage door out and had framed the replacement wall. After packing up his truck, he let himself inside, where Mila was sitting across the kitchen table with Elain playing Go Fish.

“Uncle Az!” Mila beamed. “Lain is so much fun. I want to play with her again tomorrow.”

“Yeah?” Azriel asked, looking at Elain before looking back to Mila. “I’m sure she’s busy.”

“Oh, not at all,” Elain smiled. “I’ll be home for...the next few days. So, she’s more than welcome. I had fun, too.”

Mila jumped up and down, only stopping when Azriel picked her up. 

“Well, thanks,” Azriel said, attempting a smile. “I appreciate it.”

“Of course,” Elain said, clearing her throat. “So, I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” 

Azriel nodded, slowly, unable to look away from her bright, brown eyes. “Yeah. Tomorrow.”

They left, and the moment Azriel strapped Mila into her carseat, she was yawning. 

Instead of driving home, they drove to a bar and grill close to Azriel’s apartment and met Cassian, who was already seated at a table near the bar.

Mila was still asleep on Azriel’s shoulder as they slid into the booth opposite of him. 

“Get worn out working, did she?” Cassian asked, in way of greeting.

Azriel snorted. “Yeah, well - she played with Elain all morning, and all afternoon, so.”

“Yeah?” Cassian asked. “Feyre said she’s going through some shit. Her fiance cheated on her a few months ago.”

Azriel hadn’t known. 

Although Azriel wasn’t sure what to think of Elain, no one deserved that.

“Do you remember her from high school?” Azriel asked, patting Mila on the back to keep her relaxed. 

“She was in our class, right?” Cassian asked. Azriel nodded. “Cheerleader, if I remember, and smart. Too smart. The kind of girl that knew she was smart. Annoyingly smart.”

Azriel nodded. “Annoyingly smart.”

Cassian shrugged. “Oh, well. Still hot?”

Azriel rolled his eyes. “She’s pretty, yes.”

“Pretty and hot are not the same thing,” Cassian explained. “Ah, here he is.”

He waved his hand in the air and Rhysand came strolling over. 

“Hey. How’s it going?”

“Well, I rebuilt a motor today, and Azriel here spent his day thinking Elain Archeron is pretty.” Cassian grinned, looking across the table. “Also, talked to Amren today. She’ll be back the same day as Mor. Looks like we’ll all be in town for the Summer.”

Azriel smiled, fondly. Having everyone back for the Summer made it sound like they were young again, out on Summer vacation. Back then, they all went to the beach and smoked pot all day, every day, until school started back up. Now, Azriel’s summer consisted of working and taking care of a four year old.

Which wasn’t a complaint.

Although he could use a tray of Cassian’s old famous brownies right about now.

“Nice,” Rhysand grinned. “Well, tell me what you want. You can have my discount if you pay before I leave.”

Mila woke up just before their oven-baked pizza arrived half an hour later. She cried for not having chicken nuggets; which, Rhysand wouldn’t have, and brought her a giant plate full. 

And when they were done, they hopped in Azriel’s truck and drove home. 

He didn’t get out of the truck right away, though.

He could see her standing on his doormat from the parking lot. He was going to put it in reverse, was going to get away, but it was too late, because Mila had already seen her.

“Mama!” she called, excitedly.

And with a sigh, Azriel got out of the car and carried Mila to the front door, where she wiggled down and ran toward her mother.

She wore big, dark sunglasses and a baggy jacket that drowned her frame. “Hello, little brother.”

Azriel watched Mila jump into her mother’s arms. 

“Amarantha.” 

~~~~~

Nesta stormed into her apartment and slammed the door behind her.

Fired.

She’d been fired.

Four years she spent slaving away to that man, giving into every wish and demand that he had so that she could get a shitty paycheck every two weeks.

And he had fired her.

She hadn’t even done anything to deserve it. Sure, she had been late a few times, had shown up high once or twice, but it never hurt her performance. He kicked her out the door, told her that she no longer fit the position, and that was it.

No longer a bartender.

Surely, there were plenty of other bartending jobs in the city, but it had been a miracle she’d gotten that job with her interviewing skills. The thought of going through another round of interviews was agonizing. 

She threw open the fridge, grabbed a beer, and popped off the top before bringing it to her lips. She suddenly wished Tomas was still around, wished he could distract her with the slightest bit of fun and pleasure. Even though it was Tomas, and he was lacking in those two categories lately. 

“Fuck!” she screamed, her voice echoing in the silence. She leaned back against her kitchen counter, her face falling into her hands. 

She was hardly getting by as it was.

Living paycheck to paycheck. 

Rent was due next week.

Her phone rang.

By the ringtone, she knew it was Elain. She couldn’t talk to her right now, couldn’t have a conversation with sweet, gentle Elain. Nesta would only bite her head off. 

She let it go to voicemail. 

After another sip from the bottle, Nesta lit a cigarette and took it out to the balcony. Summer had come, and the breeze coming off the Sidra was the only thing to keep her cool as she plopped down in an old lawn chair. 

Maybe she should get a dog.

No - dogs were too energetic, too….friendly.

A cat.

She should get a cat.

A cat would be better company than Tomas. At least she would be able to hold an interesting conversation with a cat. 

The door slid open at the apartment to her right, and Cassian stepped out. His chest was bare, jeans low on his hips. He didn’t see her, didn’t acknowledge her, as he sat on a wooden stood, a glass of what looked like whiskey in his hand. His golden-retriever laid at his bare feet. 

He was handsome, and for someone who had only had Tomas for so long, the sight of him half-nude on his balcony made Nesta thirsty. 

But he was cocky. Far too sure of himself. She could tell, but the way he spoke when he picked her up on the side of the road, from the way that he looked at her.

He thought he was better than she was.

Thought she was a trashy, low life woman with nothing going for her. 

And maybe he was right. What did Nesta have going for her? She finished high school, barely, didn’t go to college. She knew how to mix drinks, thanks to all the parties she crashed through the years, which was how she landed her last job in the first place.

What the fuck was the purpose of it all, anyway?

Graduate. Get a job. Get married. Blah, blah, blah.

It was pointless.

Nesta glanced back at Cassian, who drained his glass and was scrolling through his phone. She wondered if that’s what he had done. Gone to school. Graduated. Got a job. Was there a woman? What kind of woman would he even want? What kind of woman would even want him?

Some whore, no doubt. She imagined he liked things a particular way in bed, liked to be dominant, liked to be in charge. 

He probably liked to be in charge all the time. He radiated alpha male, dickwad energy. 

Mother help the woman that ended up with him. 

No matter how well he knew his way around the bedroom.

Or a kitchen table. 

Nesta picked up her phone and listened to Elain’s voicemail. Hey, Nesta, it’s Elain. I assume you’re at work. Dinner, friday night! I’m cooking. Feyre’s coming, too. Don’t forget - bring Tomas! Love you, Nesta. Talk to you soon.

Bring Tomas. Ugh. Nesta would reflect on that later. She didn’t have the patience for it right now. 

“You know, it’s more fun if we drink together. No point in drinking alone.”

Nesta looked over to Cassian, who was now leaning against the side railing, looking at her with a stupid grin on his face.

“Just because we’re neighbors doesn’t mean you have to try so hard to be friendly,” she said, setting her beer on the ledge and crossing her arms.

He nodded to her cigarette, “Smoking is bad for you, you know.”

Nesta snorted. “I have a feeling you’ve done a lot worse in your time.” 

His grin widened. “Come over. Have a drink.”

“No, thanks, I’m fine.”

“Are you always this welcoming?” he asked, head tilting to the side.

Nesta’s eyes narrowed. “If you’re implying that I’m a bitch, you’re not the first one to do so.” 

“I would never say such a thing to a lady,” he crooned.

Nesta shook her head, cigarette between her lips. “I’m no lady, but I’m sure you’re already thinking that.” 

“Come over,” he said, again.

“No.”

“Alright,” Cassian sighed. “But if you change your mind-”

“Look, asshole, I’ve had a shitty day. Okay? The last thing I need is you bothering me, so if you don’t mind, shut the fuck up.” 

Cassian chuckled, shaking his head. “All the more reason for you to come have a drin-”

Nesta was shutting her sliding door before he had the chance to finish. 

~~~~~

Feyre got home with a bag of tacos. It had been a long day. At one point, a tiny, angry chihuahua came in for its shots and Feyre, as the vet’s assistant, had to hold it down the entire time. The yapping never stopped, nor did the biting. 

Chihuahua’s were not dogs. They were an entirely different creature of beastiness. 

She took a quick shower and put on a sweatshirt and some shorts, not bothering with a bra. It was the end of Monday. Bras were irrelevant. 

She was unloading the to-go bag when Rhysand came in, groaning. 

“Bad day?” Feyre asked, holding out a taco.

Rhysand went to the kitchen island and sat on top of it, gladly taking the taco from her hand. “That’s the simple way of saying it,” he muttered, unwrapping the goodness before devouring it. “You?”

“Spent nearly an hour with an angry chihuahua,”  she muttered, finishing off her taco and grabbing a second. “So.”

Rhysand chuckled. “Well, at least the work day is done. What’s our movie of the night?” 

“You pick.”

“I’m too tired to pick.”

“Then it looks like we’ll be standing here all night, staring at each other while we eat these magnificent tacos.”

“They’re pretty good,” Rhysand laughed, unwrapping another. “Doesn’t sound like a bad night.”

Feyre watched him through the side of her eye. She couldn’t help but remember that morning, Rhysand’s arms around her, her face way too close to his. It hadn’t been horrible, either, the thoughts that had gone through her mind at his touch.

Her and Rhysand had been in more compromising positions before, but this time it was different. This time, a feeling sparked in the pit of her stomach, and she could imagine leaning in, tasting his mouth. 

And the thought was nice. 

But it was Rhysand.

The lanky little freshman who she was paired up with for a biology assignment, who she clicked with instantly...they were inseparable, the two of them, ever since. He was the boy her parents never worried about, had no reason to worry about, because they were only friends.

He was her closest friend.

He was her family. 

He surely didn’t feel anything romantic, that she knew. Even before Feyre had started dating Tamlin all those years ago, he never tried anything. Feyre had been living with him for weeks, now, and he was the same Rhysand he had always been. 

Is this what a rebound felt like? Gravitating toward someone after a long, horrid relationship. But it was Rhysand. Rhysand. She would never do that to him, would never put him in such a position. 

As time went on, whatever she felt that morning would fade. 

She knew it.

“Why do I feel like you’re in deep thought?” Rhysand muttered, tossing his trash in the garbage. 

“Blame it on the chihuahua,” Feyre muttered.

Rhysand snorted. “Wanna drink?”

“Pour me something sweet,” she grinned.

She watched him as he opened up the cabinet above the dishwasher and pulled out two wine glasses. He took a bottle of peach moscato from the counter and stuck it in the freezer.

“The Breakfast Club,” Rhysand said, leaning against the counter by the fridge. “Or, Sixteen Candles.”

“Ah, so we’re going back to the eighties today, then,” Feyre chuckled. “Our two most watched movies in high school.” 

“As someone who was a nerd in high school, I found any movie with Anthony Michael Hall to be highly relatable.” Rhysand grinned, noticing Feyre’s amused expression at his self-proclaimed nerd status. “And, Molly Ringwald always gets the guy. Happy ending, guaranteed.” 

Feyre chuckled. “Must a woman get a man in the end to be happy?”

Rhysand’s eyes softened as he crossed his arms. The look, the gesture, made that same tingly sensation grow in the pit of Feyre’s stomach. “No, of course not. But it doesn’t hurt, either.”

Feyre nodded, nibbling on her bottom lip, her half eaten taco forgotten on the island behind her. “You were right. All those times you said that I shouldn’t have been with Tamlin. You were right,” she said.

Rhysand’s smile faded, completely, eyebrow arched. “I thought you said I pried too much. That I should keep my mouth shut.”

Feyre nodded. “When you’re with someone for a long time, you just start thinking that’s the way it has to be. I started dating Tamlin when I was seventeen, before I even knew who I was, and by the time I found out who I was….you were right. I shouldn’t have been with Tamlin. We weren’t right together.”

Rhysand kept quiet, but he nodded, slowly. 

“Tamlin was right, too. You’re the reason I left him,” Feyre said. “But not because of what he thinks. Because you reminded me that there’s something more out there for me and I can’t spend my life being unhappy with someone just because I’m so damn used to being with them. I stayed with Tam because I had been with him for so long, but you gave me the courage to leave, Rhys.” 

Rhysand cleared his throat and took a step closed to Feyre. “So, you’re thanking me for endlessly butting into your love life, then?” 

“I suppose so,” Feyre said, huffing a laugh. “I’m grateful for you, Rhys. Grateful that you’ve always been there for me.”

He was close enough now to reach up, to brush the hair out of her face, the hair that had fallen out of her braid. 

That damned sensation returned to the pit of her stomach. 

His eyes flared, as if he felt it, too; but, surely, Feyre was just imagining it. It had been a long day.

“Wine,” she breathed.

Rhysand blinked, his hand falling back down to his side.

She swore his hands were shaking as he turned around, opened the freezer, and pulled out the bottle of wine.

“Chilled?” Feyre asked. 

“Chilled enough,” Rhysand said, voice low.

He pulled the cork out and filled the two glasses on the countertop. He handed a glass to Feyre, and held up his own. 

“To angry chihuahuas and middle aged men who leave shitty tips,” he said, smiling now.

Feyre laughed, clinking her glass against his before taking a sip. “I vote Sixteen Candles.”

Rhysand nodded, yanking on the end of her braid as he passed her. “Sixteen Candles, it is.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List (to be tagged, comment or send me an ask!)

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Prompts:

{ “I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you forget you ever met that asshole” - Feysand } -anonymous

{ “How about Nessian needing to fake date when they go home for the holidays?!” } - anonymous

{ “could u pls do like an elriel fic where azriel is like this mysterious bad boy and elain is a goody two shoes lik aaaaa i cant get that image out of my head” } - anonymous

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #fanfic #fanfiction #modern au #nessian #feysand #elriel #nesta #cassian #feyre #rhysand #elain #azriel #archeron #tacmc AITA #sjm

[defiledpriest]

1 through 40 right now or the stuffie gets it !

😳😳 this may take a while then lmao also how dare you threaten me ರ╭╮ರ

q's and answers under the cut!

.

cherry - what is your sexuality? on my bio

lollipop - favorite makeup products? I don't really use makeup, but I suppose nail polish is a makeup product, right? I also like collecting lip balms

daydreams - if you could be anything or anyone, who would you be? a bird came to mind lmao 😆 I just wanna know how it feels to fly

october - what month were you born in? November!

caress - do you like to snuggle? Yes! I usually snuggle with my nephew tho

ivory - describe your pajamas? Uh I just wear sweatpants and a t-shirt. Sometimes a tank top depending on the room's temp

golden - favorite stationary product? Washi tape!! I'm getting into bullet journaling and I love looking at the ones on tik tok and pinterest

freckles - most-worn article of clothing? my slippers 😂 I don't go anywhere after work..

twilight - best friend? prob my older sis lol besides her this girl named Ana,, I met her in 6th grade and we've been friends since then😊

silk - do you like k-pop? Yep! Been a fan since middle school

poppy - favorite pastel color? Yellow

dimples - most attractive features of a person’s face? Eyes. Especially when they're colored (i have dark ass brown eyes so i like seeing other colors) smile is a close second

sunkissed - autumn or spring? Autumn!

buttery - favorite snack? I don't really have a favorite snack lmao I eat a lot of shit and never stick to one thing. I love to snack on chocolate tho (just no dark chocolate lol)

whisper - how much sleep do you get? lmao not enough imo

pencil - do you own a journal? multiple. I'm a journal hoarder

cupcake - are you a good cook? I'd say I'm decent

honey - favorite term of endearment? darling 💖 (sweetheart is a close second)

clouds - describe one of your favorite dreams? It involved me and my favorite kpop dude lol I think I pushed him into a chair and climbed into his lap,, then he picked me up and pushed me against the wall and grinded into me

velvet - who was your first crush? celeb or irl? I know celeb was zac efron lol or joe jonas. Irl I know it was this boy in elementary school but I don't remember who it was oof

paper - favorite children’s book? Used to love reading the Junie B. Jones books

peaches - do you have a skincare routine? No but I need to take better care of it since I work with a mask and I sweat

mochi - favorite studio ghibli film? Never really watched them oOF,, recommend me some y'all

backyard - did you ever have an imaginary friend? I prob did at some point lol

strawberry - favorite fruit? Green apples

kiss - have you ever kissed a friend? Nope

nightlight - do you read before bed? No.. I used to be a huge bookworm, but now I hardly read 😔

shampoo - favorite scent? gardenia is my fave scent,, but I'm also into masculine type scents too,, woodsy/musky

skin - what distant relative are you closest to? my family don't really talk to them sooo

aphrodite - favorite actress/actor? Lately it's been Tom Holland, Chris Evans and Henry Cavill (my fave white boys lmaoooo,, sorry I couldn't choose) As for actress I'd say Ana de Armas (she's so fucking beautiful ❤️ like pls step on me miss)

cuddles - do you have any pets? Nope. Can't even take care of myself lmao

lace - if you own any dresses, which is your favorite? I actually posted it on here before, uh this light blue dress with a slightly plunging neckline. Makes me feel soft

sheets - sanrio or san-x characters? both. I'm not a monster

cream - frozen yogurt flavor? I don't really like yogurt frozen yogurt tho is bomb

watermelon - do films ever make you cry? Well, I don't cry I just tear up. Depends on the scene too

sapphos - favorite poet? emo boy edgar allan poe. I have a book of his poems and stories!

plush - how many stuffed animals do you still own? still? does this mean since I was kid or now? hmm. well I currently own 7

roses - what flower do you find most beautiful? sunflowers! 🌻

sweetheart - favorite mug/cup? this cauldron cup with a ceramic spider inside. bought it around halloween week

sunset - what are your pronouns? on my bio

#anon #asks #me #anon u will be the DEATH of me #i feel like idk my own self lol

[notstolen]

aesthetics for the entities. bold what applies to your muse, italics what applies situationally or only in certain verses. this is based on a horror podcast;  potentially triggering and / or upsetting content ahead!

i.  the buried.   weighed blankets.  drowning. the comfort of a loved one’s weight. soil and sand piling on top of you.  hugging so hard it hurts a little.  cramped hiding spots.  letting out air underwater to sink to the bottom of the pool.  walls pressing in on you.  not moving from a position even though you’re cramping a little. dragging the last second before you have to inhale.  lonely subways.  feeling like one with the earth. a layer of dirt on you.  looking for something below.  cardboard boxes and tiny pillow forts.  hands calloused from digging.  knowing that your purpose is just below the surface.  entering your final resting place before it kills you.  a storm drowning you out.  dust and sand speaking to you.

ii.  the corruption.  insects.  a close imitation of the natural course of life.  an illness in a community. a rag that dirties more than it cleans.  an untreated wound.  containment. breaching containment.  unbreathable air.  fungi.  one with that you love.  one with what loves you.  a corpse unfit for a glass case.  hearing a song in the sound of tiny wings and legs.  honeycomb patterns.  an ecosystem within a person. a curse passed on. the hubris of a scientist.  an ugly death where a glorious one is owed.  blood on a handkerchief.  parasites. something pushing up the sewer.  a mask to keep something out.  trypophobia.  knowing you belong.  death weeks after impact.  fever.  food that’s gone off.  pandora’s box.  death behind a glass.

iii.  the dark. shadows.  lights that turn off by themselves.  the feel of cold marble.  a beaked creature in the night. the difference between seeing darkness and seeing nothing.  touch of something you can’t see.  hiding under a blanket.  white, clouded eyes.  months without going outside during sunlight.  pouring dark.  unscrewing lightbulbs.  black matter.  light sensitivity.  a starless night. time before light was created.  a shadow on the wall without a body to attach to.  withering plants.  a world without a sun.  footfalls in an empty house in the night.  a light that doesn’t reach as far as it should.  desperate reach for a flashlight.  clothes that hide your shape.  staying unperceivable.  winter months in the north. an empty church.

v.  the flesh. body horror. factories. a hunger for something more filling.  never quite happy with how you look.  the terror of an animal waiting for slaughter.  a very good meal.  the liquid of a perfect steak.  fighting your worst survival instincts.  a twisted bone. long nights working out.  more than one heart.  appearance that shapes like clay.  a bag of bones.  bone broth in a pot.  knowing to fear pigs.  the butcher’s shop.  plastic surgery. something alien inside your body. a hunger in the gaze laid upon you.  unwitting cannibalism. forgetting what you used to look like.  being admired for your appearance and appearance only.  teeth marks on skin.  scars from wounds that should’ve killed you. cooking in scarcity.  fenced in with one way to go.

iv.  the desolation.  senseless pain.  warmth of faith.  wax where skin should be.  a blazing fire. heat without a source.  the third or fourth tragedy in the family. losing everything you’ve ever held dear. so much to live for, gone so soon.  the smell of gasoline. touch that scars. coffee cup that never goes cold.  scorch marks on wood.  inescapably warm air. a child born in fire. death of a loved one.  a candle without a flame.  an altar in the middle of the woods. animals with burnt fur.  plastic explosives.  burning hot metal. sweating in an interrogation room.  never touching a loved one. disfigurement.  a kiss that ruins you.  the scent of burning fat.  a tattoo that terrifies its viewer.  the agony of hellfire displayed as art.  auburn hair. little clothing in cold weather.  a ripple in the air.  trying to cool down in vain.

vi.  the end. the last page of a book. nightmares that don’t feel like nightmares.  a skeletal hand.  the grip of the grim reaper around your throat.  existential pain. ivory dice.  flatlining in a hospital.  gambling with death. as old as the universe.  soul and spirit tied to an object. a dream where you die.  closing your eyes for the last time.  the plead of a dying one.  knowing the fate of someone you know and being unable to prevent it.  a thousand cords tugging you towards your end.  skin that’s freezing to the touch.  an act of desperation.  someone’s life for yours.  an eternity spent alive.  the cost of your selfishness.  watching your own burial. causing your own burial. the smell of death.  numbness to fear.  words from someone gone.  meaninglessness of the actions or lives of single people in the universe.  multiple near-death experiences you refuse to die from.

viii.  the hunt.   sharp canines. sore calves after a run.  the scent of blood.  an adventure for the journey’s sake.  the adrenaline right before the kill.   a whistle’s echo.  the woods.  the doe eyes of a prey animal.  your own breath in the air.  sharpened claws.  being tracked.  fear of someone knowing your every movement.  hunting down monsters. hide and seek. running away only to end up where you started.  staying alive purely because the enemy enjoys seeing you run.  a set of footsteps behind you. blood dripping from bare hands.  barks and growls. focused eyes.  a victim going limp under your hands.  a mouth full of fresh blood.  catching the scent of something monstrous.  perfecting your craft.  peering into the dark and running after it.

vii.  the eye. googling something you shouldn’t have.  eureka moments. the unforgiving lens of a camera.  witness reports.  hidden libraries.  eyes of different colours.  feeling of being watched. a death recorded in tape.  a tragedy you can’t look away from.  endangering yourself for knowledge. truth. analog records.  a symbol of an eye.  a watch tower.  compulsion to document.  turning on recording devices without thinking about it.  saving the evidence before the person.  extracting information.  truth or dare, without the dare.  a thirst for knowledge.  books that speak to you.  coordinated shelves.  cataloguing systems.  voyerism. police report you can’t put down.  reasoning your way out.  smell of old papers. books that read you back.

ix.  the lonely.   an apartment too small for a double bed. completely vacant streets.  waking up to see everyone gone. fog.  point nemo.  a house too big to hear your family members in.  alone in a faceless crowd. a mask with nothing behind it.  separated cubicles. a deafening silence where joy should be.  a blinding spotlight.  the least missed in your friend group.  streets without lights in the windows. isolation.  not truly knowing your friends.  your friends not truly knowing you.  need for silence.  fear of crowds.  staring into space knowing nothing is looking back at you.  a ship alone at sea. depression.  knowing your friends are better off without you. talking to someone only to realise they’re gone.  a family too large to notice you there. safety in being alone.

x.  the slaughter. a game of tag.   senseless violence.  a true crime hobby. improvised weapons.  blinding rage. intent to kill. a horrific day in a quiet community. a medal of bravery. holding on to what validates your anger.  history books that spare no details.  an injury you want revenge for.  war.  counting kills.  songs of soldiers. a knifeblock on the counter. a pool of blood. shellshock.  unspeakable horrors.  anger pushing you forward. unimaginable pain. not seeing who will hurt you but knowing the pain is coming.  a fully human monster. an authority sending its lessers to their deaths. kill or be killed. unedited wartime memoirs.  a weapons collection.  not knowing the names of who you kill.  too many to remember.  loss of hope.  there’s no heroes in war.

xi.  the spiral. sleep deprivation. corridors you can get lost in. maze puzzles that loop back on themselves.  losing possessions. losing people.  losing your sanity. corkscew curls.  rows of funhouse mirrors.  optical illusions.  a separate reality. walking through the wrong door.  delusions.  not knowing what your hands are doing.  blank spaces in documents.  hallucinations.  wrong proportions. a nameless thing. a place that has never existed. doubting your own mind.  blind faith.  losing track of names, labels, categories.  distorted sound.  an imperfection in a glass that twists the view. loss of time.  a garish colour.  doors that open to nowhere.  lies.  an unnatural laugh.  jokes and tricks.  illusions.  a doorway.  a sculptor with a wild imagination.  limbs in impossible angles.  doing what’s fun, not what’s sensible.  fractals you can get lost in.

xii.  the stranger. wax figures.  a close approximation of a human face.  a borrowed appearance.  a strange smell.  glass eyes.  furs and pelts.  a dance.  a song of a choir.  the uncanny valley.  stitching yourself together. the colours of a circus.  a puppet with no strings. mannequins.  glitter and sequin.  a stranger you’ve always known.  someone strange in the place of someone you knew.  stolen identities.  stolen skins. a machine imitating humanity. the anonymity of a service worker.  hiding in plain sight. uncomfortable to look at.  a faked accent.  concealing.  forgetting who you are.  forgetting who others are.  a replacement no one notices. images that look posed.  the only one seeing the false face of someone.

xiv.  the web.   undecipherable code.  a puppeteer holding the strings.  power over the weak-willed.  strings of fate. manipulation.  an arranged accident.  a hundred minions doing your bidding.  cobwebs.  spiders.  a laid trap. never voicing discomfort. outwitting a cheater.  doing things without realising it. red string across a corkboard.  finding something lost where you were sure you checked.  power over the unreliability of chance.  watching others dance for you.  an entangled death.  a thousand tiny legs and fangs.  shady forum threads.  something important gone missing. suspiciously disregarded case.  a missing witness.  connections.  the world wide web.  power of victimhood.  gullibility.  no control over your own decisions.  an invisible leash.  mass psychology.  a horror film in the making.  scapegoat.  never remembering to ask for a name.

xiii.  the vast. open spaces.  carnival rides going up and down.  fear of heights.  endless infinity around you.  your insignificance in a universe.  stomach turning at a drop.  fear of not the crash down but the moment you slip.  the sway of a cable car.  an adventure holiday.  losing track of where the surface is.  miles and miles of nothing around you. staring at the sky and feeling like you may fall into it.  loss of control. a fall that doesn’t end in death. glass floor to the view below. terminal velocity. the sound of wind in your ears.  a reach over the railing.  a jump from the top of the building. falling into nothing. feeling your feet let go of the ground. a leap of faith.  motion sickness.

+  the extinction. the end of an era. apocalypse movies.  the alarms of warning systems.  a desolate landscape.  end of the world cults.  nihilism. the last written history. a changed world.  no survivours.  old prophecies.  a thousand predicted ends.  a new chapter.  an end with no escape.  catastrophes.  a calendar counting down.  breaking point.  overindulgence.

tagged by: stole it from one of my other blogs

tagging: @xwhiterabbitx, @lonexwolfe, @desolationtrial ( for ari since i think you might’ve done this for norman already? )

#dash games.

[spider-tech1]

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