#answered / you forget i made this web.

[ohmygraves]

ghost, but as your fake boyfriend.

you were panicking.

your mother had called earlier, asking if you could come home for a few days. apparently, your brother had returned from overseas, and she called to let you know that every single member of your family would be there. a small family reunion, if you will. of course, she expected you to show up too, perhaps bring that boyfriend of yours you always told them about.

which was a problem because one, you don't have a boyfriend, and two, you have lied to your family for years and now it's come to bite you in the ass.

you didn't even know why you did it in the first place. perhaps the constant pestering and questions about "when will you get married?" is starting to bother you, especially when it came from so many of your relatives, wondering if you'd settle down already instead of being out there in danger all the time. perhaps you just want them to leave you alone and stop worrying about your wellbeing. after all, you're an adult, and it's just annoying to hear the same thing over and over again every single time when you went home for christmas.

so, you created this narrative of a "boyfriend", who you'd talk about when your parents called. a boyfriend who is tall, handsome, and loves you for who you are. a boyfriend who you'd live with and maybe plan on marrying too in the future. a boyfriend that is so much of a textbook nice guy that your family would approve of even if it sounds too good to be true.

you're not sure who to ask. soap would be your best bet, but he would be away on a mission at that date. which was unfortunate, he seemed really excited to play fake boyfriend with you. gaz just ran out of leave for this month, so he's out too. price is too old, your family would question it.

that leaves just one person...

"lt, can you do me a favor? please, just this once."

ghost turned towards you, leaning back and letting you explain. you told him that you need him to be your fake boyfriend for a family event.

unsurprisingly, he was very quick to stand up and leave you alone, not wanting to deal with your bullshit. still, you catch up to him, trying to convince him with whatever it is you could offer.

after a few rounds of convincing, tailing him for three days and nights, constantly pestering him, and some offers of the finest whiskey and whatever he wanted, ghost finally relented. it didn't take long for the two of you to fly back to your hometown two days before the family reunion, the two of you taking a week of leave from the base with very little trouble. you assumed that ghost had something to do with it.

before you arrived, you had to give him a rundown on what to expect, what questions will be asked and how to answer them for it to make sense in the web of lies you've created. he was definitely not thrilled, telling you that he got this... whatever "this" was supposed to be. you were nervous, hoping that things will actually go well.

surprisingly, ghost did keep true to his words. walking into your childhood home, he held your waist, keeping you close to him, even would act nicer to your nosy relatives (which, of course, was not surprising when you feel his grip got tighter around you).

dinner was quite cozy, everyone seemed to enjoy his presence and kept asking you if you two will end up married. ghost said something vague that made you blush, and while it embarrassed you, it got everyone to stop talking about it.

when the crowd dissolved, you took ghost to go see your childhood bedroom, closing the door behind him as you thanked him for doing you a good favor, and that you won't forget all about this. you didn't even realize that he stepped closer to you, too absorbed in gushing how successful the night has been, pulling you close and planting a kiss on your lips. it shut you up.

"... did you just kissed me?"

"mmhm. i reckon i deserve at least that, huh love?"

"i suppose you do..."

he kissed you once more. well, at least you won't have to lie about your fake boyfriend anymore.

#this has been in the drafts for so long #i lost track of where this is supposed to go #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty headcanon #call of duty #simon ghost riley #cod headcanon #simon ghost riley x reader #cod ghost x reader #fake boyfriend

[kpopnstarwars]

Upon the Sands of the Arena: Feyd-Rautha x Reader

A/N: basically reader fights feyd in the arena, my apologies if there are any inaccuracies, i'm dUmB

tw: 18+, smut YAAA, fighting, swearing, i use fire metaphors too much, blood, violence and death (it's in a a gladiatorial arena ffs), creampie, one ass spank, fingering + oral (f receiveing) hella lot of sexual tension, Fighting as Foreplay, feyd sorta has a blood kink but he's just freaky like that, sort of fluffy at the end, hint of voyeurism if you squint really hard, lmk if there's anything else

wc: 4.1k

part 2

The Bene Gesserit are distracted.

If the Kwisatz Haderach was not so near, they would have disposed of you properly. Instead, they sucked you back into their dark web of deceit and occulted plans only to spit you out just as fast, leaving your fate to the blood soaked sands of Giedi Prime’s arenas. You believe that if it were not for the actions of Lady Jessica Atreides and her defiance of the order, they’d pay you more attention.

Not that you’re complaining.

You were trained to flourish in the dark, lurking in the shadows of the deepest of nights, awaiting a time to strike. However, you are not like your mentors, you do not believe in the hoping, the weaving of bloodlines for the production of a distant messiah, nor do you dirty your hands to obey an imperious Reverend Mother.

Truly, you admire Lady Jessica for doing the same as you did - defying the order and thereby splintering from it; all the same, you do not desire what she wants. For she wants power for her son and her unborn daughter, and you want nothing but to be left alone.

In a universe full of yearning for a greater purpose, you want the opposite. Often, you find yourself wishing you were something of nature: not mundane, by any means, but uncontrollable, like the desert winds that sift through the sands of Arrakis simply because. To be like them, without a master, without the endless search for purpose, is freedom.

Instead, you have been branded with the title Bene Gesserit - ex Bene Gesserit now - and you wield too much power for the order to ignore you, even alone. Hence why they incorporated your capture into their plans, engineering it so that you face the Baron’s brutal, bloodthirsty nephew in the arena.

They’re going to have to try harder than that to kill you.

You think they forget that you once were as good as the rest of them. They forget that you still possess the ability to alter the molecules in your blood to resist the drugs they pump into the arena prisoners, and they forget that you trained beside the best in combat.

The arena is where you thrive.

The roar of the crowd is deafening. It excites you, the swell of noise that is thousands of harsh Harkonnen tongues heckling for blood; the stamp of their feet as they cry their na-Baron’s name vibrates through the arena, through the grains of sand beneath your feet, deep and heady like burgundy wine.

Your fingers tighten around the blade given to you, barely sharpened and made of unsanded wood, but solid all the same. It’s all you’ll need against the na-Baron. He is but a cruel man set on fire with exterminable blue flames, and you are Bene Gesserit: defiant of the order or not, it is who and what you are, and it is pure power coursing through your veins - power that answers to you and you only.

The roar of the na-Baron soars over the crowd’s cheering, animalistic and full of fury that makes you wonder what incenses him so much. Something in his past, maybe, something that he only acknowledges in the inner machinations of his cunning mind.

The grate in front of you opens, and you allow yourself a smile as you step out into Giedi Prime’s tortorous ebony sun. High above, you spot the slit of a balcony where the Baron himself reclines, watching his nephew with a benevolent smile and a pipe in his hand, flanked by subservient concubines with bowed heads. All around, the crowd shouts, thunderous, urging their na-Baron to spill blood on the sand, to paint the arena red. It swirls around you like a washed out dream, black and white but simultaneously vivid, the stink of rotting bodies and sun bleached white sand pungent in your nostrils, the occasional pop from the fireworks overhead heavy in your ears.

Rolling your shoulders, you pace a few steps in before sitting down in the sand, cross legged, the backs of your hands against your knees with your blade flat against one of your palms. Pitiless, you watch as the na-Baron slices the throat of the first prisoner that staggers his way, throwing him an enigmatic smile when he glances towards you.

His eyes are cold; calculating. They’re dark, striking against his pale skin as they suck in the light, and hungry too, as if he strives for something he does not quite know, always reaching, always burning for more.

Intriguing.

He circles in on the next prisoner, who meets his end by the same savage knife work as the first, his guts spilled out onto the greedy sand. Insatiable, chest heaving with excitement more than fatigue, the na-Baron turns to you, his final prey - his black teeth are bared in a magnificent, maniacal grin, his footsteps silent as he approaches.

Facing him now, you understand why the Bene Gesserit believed that by crossing the Atreides’ meant-to-be daughter with the Harkonnen’s na-Baron, they would make the Kwisatz Haderach. There’s no doubt in this man’s genetics, in the solid lines of his strength sheathed bones and the sheer virility and ferocity that permeates the air around him - it’s almost elegant, the way he prowls towards you, his stride lilting and laced with power. They picked him well.

Too bad you’ll have to kill him.

If he proves to be obtuse, you’ll have no choice but to slay him in order to save yourself. If he is, however, as cunning as they say, you’ll give him a chance to live - it’d be a shame to end him, actually: something draws you to the rawness of his nature, to the frigidity of the ire in his eyes.

The na-Baron circles closer, his skin like moonlight. He watches you like a hawk, as if he’s the one who’s hunting, ready for his next meal; his eyes flash in the sun, studying you, watching for your tells even as you identify his. Smiling, you drop into a crouch, knife outstretched like a twisted mockery of a peace offering, waiting for him to take the bait and strike.

He cocks his head. ‘It’s rare that I face a woman in the arena.’

‘I’m sure it will still be of pleasure to you, Feyd-Rautha.’

‘I believe it will increase it tenfold, little witch.’

You don’t have time to figure out how he knows you’re Bene Gesserit, because he slashes at you, once down towards your ribs and once back up at your throat. His knife flashes in the sun, reflecting the bloodlust in his eyes as it arcs towards you; light on your feet, you parry both of his blows, dipping in to land your own. He’s strong, which is of less concern to you than his speed. Feyd-Rautha fights as if he’s dancing: not in the aspect that there’s flourish in his bladework - quite the opposite, he keeps his strikes efficient and tight - but in the smooth, hypnotic way that the movements of his body blend seamlessly together.

The crowd screams as he forces you into defence. It’s temporary, though, because he gets reckless, both driven and blinded by his hunger for blood - enough so that you can dart your foot out, hooking it around his ankles and overbalancing him. Sprays of sand are kicked up as he tries to steady himself, and you force him down with the tip of your blade to his pale throat.

A single, sleek drop of scarlet slides down his skin. Unhurriedly, he brings a hand up to catch it before it leaks onto his black armour, lifting it so he can see the blood your knife has shed. His gaze flicks up to you, a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

‘Huh,’ he remarks, pleasantly surprised.

And then he lashes out, bringing you down into the sand beside him. With the hilt of his knife, he knocks your own out of your hand, and it’s catapulted into the air, spinning end over end and catching the light before it somersaults into the ground a few feet away. The grit plumes up at your face as you scuffle with him, and you hiss, frustrated that the sand does not lend you any more traction.

Rolling you over so fast your head spins, Feyd-Rautha drives his knife down towards your exposed neck. It makes a bolt of panic shoot through you, followed by the deep seated, survival impelled instinct to use the Voice on him, but like hell you’re doing that; honour prevents you, as well as the desire to finish this fight properly. You have no choice but to grab his forearm, slowing his blade’s descent, and a mirthful, rasping noise leaves his chest - a laugh that sets his eyes alight.

And then, the pressure dissolves, falling away. He stands, smirking down at you, the sun like a damning halo around his head. Silence falls over the arena, the anticipation thick in the air as he raises his hand, gesturing somewhere over your shoulder.

‘Go on, little witch, get your knife.’

You sneer, seeing the greed in his eyes, the misguided belief that he’s got you where he wants you. He wants to play, and it delights you.

Taking a few steps in the direction of the knife, you feign acquiescence. You can feel his eyes on your back, can sense the triumph oozing off him, and you let the adrenaline coursing through your veins guide your limbs, twisting you around so you can lunge at him, one hand wrapping around his bare forearm and bending it backwards as you spin him sharply until his back meets your chest. Viciously, you yank his arm further back, and the pain of that combined with your elbow tight around his throat, constricting his airways, is enough to loosen his grip.

A gasp ripples through the crowd as Feyd-Rautha drops his knife. It lodges in the ground beside your foot, and you flick it up with the toe of your boot, your hand darting out to snatch it from the air. The man in your arms bucks and writhes, but you keep your hold on him as you bring the knife to his neck for the second time.

‘Uh oh,’ you sing-song into his ear. ‘What’s happened here?’

He stills in your arms a little. ‘Why don’t you do it?’

‘I fear I’ve grown attached to you during our little fight,’ you hum. ‘It would be a shame to end a specimen like yourself.’

‘You are Bene Gesserit, I’m sure that you have arrangements - ’

‘I may be one, but I do not follow the order,’ you snarl. ‘I spare you because I wish to. Now, Harkonnen, knock the knife from my hand.’

You feel his muscles tense, the hesitation coursing through his body as he determines whether your bid is a trick or not, and then he does as you say, catching it smoothly and spinning to bring it to your throat. Calmly, you stare into his narrowed eyes, the cold caress of the blade harsh against your exposed skin.

‘What’s stopping me from killing you now, little witch?’

You laugh. ‘I trust I’ve piqued your interest sufficiently, na-Baron.’

‘Just Feyd is fine.’

You open your mouth to mock him, but he slices the blade away from your neck, very purposefully nicking you. Blood beads at the seam of the cut, hot and vengeful; he grips the back of your neck, exposing your throat to him, and prickles of pain shoot through you as the wound stretches. Frozen, you wait to see what he’ll do next, heart fluttering in your chest in a way that you know is not fear.

Insouciantly, he licks a long stripe up your skin, his scorching tongue following the trail of crimson his blade left behind. All consuming heat wells up in your stomach when he grins at you, displaying the hint of red coating his obsidian teeth, his eyes igniting the air between you as they dip down to survey your body, your heaving chest.

And then he releases you. You find your knees have gone weak, and you stumble as the guards close around you, grabbing you roughly under the armpits and dragging you out of the arena, your knees making twin tracks in the sand.

Managing a glance behind you, you catch sight of Feyd, his fist held triumphantly in the air as the crowd roars for their na-Baron.

Unsurprisingly, they throw you into a cell. Its walls are made of smooth, dark metal which seem to swallow up any sound that you make - it doesn’t surprise you that Vladimir Harkonnen has a Bene Gesserit proof cell - and the only thing furnishing it is a black blanket on the ground. A servant comes in and treats the shallow cut on your neck, but he refuses to meet your eyes and scurries off as fast as he can, almost forgetting to lock the door behind him.

You estimate two hours, maybe three, before Feyd appears in the doorway. His silhouette appears in the small glass window set in the door and pauses; you wonder if he’s considering leaving you there for a little longer, but then the lock disengages with a whoosh and the door slides open.

The air is immediately charged as he strides down the steps, eyes locked on you. With the smooth hiss of hydraulics, the door closes behind him, and he prowls forward, not quite smiling yet - you sense that he’s here to continue what you didn’t finish in the arena, and your back straightens a little as his gaze rakes over your body. He’s taken off his armour, leaving him in the thin black underclothes beneath, and he too has had someone treat the wound in his neck.

‘Your resistance to the drugs is remarkable, little witch. My blade was laced too.’

You raise an eyebrow. ‘I find that matter quite disappointing, actually, that you must face your opponents in the arena when they are half sedated in order to best them.’

He smiles, stepping closer to you until you share air. ‘It’s not just the winning I seek.’

‘Oh, what is it then?’ You ask. ‘Pain?’

Quick as a snake, you strike, letting the thrill of the fight shoot through you yet again as he matches you blow for blow. He looks at you as if he wants to eat you, to taste you - not just your lips or your tongue, but the defiant burn of your lifeblood too, and it makes you want to sink your teeth into him.

Slipping past his guard to catch the front of his shirt, you bunch the material in your hand and tear, baring his well muscled chest to you. The sight of it makes your lips quirk upwards, further so at the sound he makes: a half growl and a half groan as he lunges for you, wonderfully infuriated by the way you dance just out of his grasp, slipping through his fingers like water. His eyes are kindled with ardour - for both your blood and your flesh - and when they meet yours, shivers snap down your spine and tug at your stomach.

Feinting to the left, you jab at his neck. Like a scorpion waiting to strike, he grabs your wrist, tugging you towards him; you glance down at his feet, easily predicting that he’s going to sweep your legs out from under you if you let him bring you any closer. Yanking your hand back, you attempt to shake his grip on you, but he refuses to let go.

You slap him across the face.

Hard.

His fingers loosen on you as his head snaps to the side, the noise your palm makes against his chiselled cheek sharp and ringing in the cell. A soft, animalistic sound leaves the back of his throat, and when he lifts his chin, his jaw clenched to perfection, the pure lust in his eyes makes you stumble back a step.

Rushing at you, he takes advantage of the heady swoop of desire that messes with your head, slowly backing you against the wall with each punch and kick he throws. Heat roils in his gaze, so intense that when he slams you against the wall, you don’t know whether he’s going to kill you or kiss you - the not-knowing thrills you, sets your bones and soul on fire. One of his hands comes up, his fingertips caressing your throat before he pounces, mercilessly cutting off your air supply.

Leaning into your space, he brings his lips up to your ear. ‘If I’d had my way, little witch, I’d have fucked you right there on the sand, with all of them watching.’

Your head spins, and you can’t tell if it’s because of the lack of oxygen in your lungs or the feeling of his strong thigh pressing between your legs, relentless as he grinds it against your clit. You allow yourself a second to enjoy it before you retaliate, adrenaline seething in your blood.

Burying your nails into his arm, you twist it to the side, unbalancing him and taking him to the floor - his fingers grip your shirt, bringing you down with him. You land on his torso, straddling his hips, and as you do, he snaps his wrists down and rips your shirt from top to bottom down your back. The cool air of the cell sends ripples of goosebumps up your skin, and Feyd’s wide, calloused palms follow their path, surprisingly warm, deceptively gentle.

Bucking his lower body, he flips you over, pinning your hands over head, his long fingers circling your wrists as his hips press heavily into yours. Your eyes flick down to his mouth as he dips his head, his breath ghosting against your cheek; the curve of his lips is soft and almost graceful compared to the rough way he grinds against you, eager for more, yet eager to torture himself with the wait.

Tipping your jaw up, you let your lower lip brush his before you turn your head to the side, denying him. Amusingly, he follows your touch, insistent that you kiss him, but you ease out of his grip and trap him between your arms when he gives chase - a growl sounds low in his chest, one of his hands gripping your thigh, futilely yanking at your trousers as you grapple, rolling over and over on the cell’s floor.

His hand slams down beside your head, stopping your course, his forearm flat against your throat - not quite choking you, but not letting your air supply run free. Feyd’s touch sears your skin in the best way, and you wish to be consumed by the flames.

‘Must I tie you up, little witch?’

His voice is low and rasping, sending shivers up your spine. You don’t answer, instead claiming his lips, welcoming the insistent press of his tongue as you thrust your hips against his, seeking that exquisite friction. Running your hands up his strong back, you hook your elbow around the nape of his neck, locking him to you as he explores the taste of you.

Abruptly, he pulls away, and you open your mouth, protest on your lips until he tugs down your trousers and underwear, tossing them somewhere to the side, his own garments following. You get one good look at him, at his powerful, muscle lined thighs framing your hips and the curve of his leaking cock against his stomach before he swipes his fingers between your folds, sending jolts of pleasure through your core.

When he lowers his face to your heat, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, a breathless moan slips from you, loaded with anticipation. You can’t stop the louder echo that leaves you when he dips his fingers into cunt, curling them to hit your sweet spot, and your nails claw at his shoulder blades, leaving red trails behind them.

‘That’s it, little witch,’ he croons. ‘Sing for me.’

And sing you do, as he wrings the pleasure from you with his tongue and fingers until your legs tremble and close around his head. He pins your thighs to the floor, holding you open for him as he tastes you, insatiable, pushing you unrelentingly over the edge, again and again until hot tears slide down your cheeks and your voice breaks from crying his name.

Finally, he buries his length inside you. Your eyes roll back at the stretch of it, your pussy fluttering around him; you muffle the moan that rips itself from your chest by biting down on his shoulder. He chuckles as you mewl his name, your back arching as he pulls out, only sheathe himself up to the hilt when he thrusts back in - he’s as drunk on your sounds as you are on his cock: he needs more. More of you, of your delicious sounds and your intoxicating scent and that sweet, sweet cunt of yours.

Feyd fucks like he fights: ruthless, full of passion and lust, remorseless.

Just as you’re about to come around his cock, he pulls out, leaving you scrabbling against the floor, hips futile as they follow his, his name like a plea on your lips. He drinks in your desperation, flipping you over and cracking his palm down hard on your ass before slamming himself back into your weeping pussy, the ragged cry that escapes you like the nectar of the gods on his tongue as he swallows it with a kiss. Gathering your hair in his fist, he pulls your head back, pounding tirelessly into you as he pins you to his solid chest, mouthing at the skin behind your ear.

As Feyd spills his warm seed inside you, you wonder if the Bene Gesserit were actually distracted, or if that was what they wanted you to think as they crossed bloodlines, even despite your defiance of their order.

You flop onto the blanket as Feyd eases himself out of your spasming cunt. Your head is fuzzy, warm, and a dumb smile pulls at your lips.

Feyd chuckles. ‘I have not broken you, have I, little witch?’

You send him a look half as fierce as it should be. ‘Barely. You have merely sated me - for now.’

He laughs again, lying next to you on the blankets. His body is angled towards you, but he doesn’t reach out - that he lay down beside you is surprising to you in the first place, but you seize the opportunity and curl up in the curve of his body, enjoying the warmth of his skin. Slowly, his fingers card through your hair, and you close your eyes, letting yourself enjoy the moment of softness from the bloodthirsty na-Baron of House Harkonnen.

Reaching out, you grab the blanket and fold it over the two of you - he rolls over so that he lies with his head resting on your chest. His lips brush the skin between your breasts, and you're struck by the glimpse of vulnerability that Feyd allows you to witness; this is not by accident, this is a gift from him, a way of silently telling you that he has come as close to trusting you as he could ever come to trusting someone.

Silent, you bask there in the afterglow, eyes half closed. At some point, you seek Feyd’s lips, and he obliges you, lazily exploring your mouth in a way he did not get a chance to do before, sighing contentedly as you trace the lines your nails carved along the grooves of his broad back. Eventually, you pull away, staring into his eyes where the embers of the fire that had blazed in them still glow with the heat of it. You need to go.

Gently, your breath mingling with his, you kiss his cheek, your lips gliding against his skin before you get up, briefly laughing at the wobbly nature of your legs before gathering your clothes and dressing as best as you can, considering he ripped your shirt all the way down the back.

When you glance over your shoulder, he’s propped himself up on his elbows; the blanket has slipped down to reveal most of his moon coloured stomach, and he regards you with mirth mixed with something like respect.

You pause in the doorway. You can tell he’s letting you leave.

A smile plays on his lips.

‘We’ll meet again, little witch.’

It’s not a question, nor a whimsy. It’s a promise.

#feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha smut #austin butler #austin butler smut #dune #dune two #dune part two #dune 2 #dune part 2 #dune ii #dune part ii #feyd smut #feyd rautha fic #feyd rautha fanfiction #feyd-rautha #dune fanfiction #dune smut #atreides #house harkonnen #feyd rautha x reader #feyd x reader #feyd x you #feyd rautha x you #dune x you #feyd oneshot #bene gesserit #feyd x bene gesserit #feyd rautha x bene gesserit reader

[xbellaxcarolinax]

Futile Devices

Miguel O'Hara x civilian f!reader

Summary: The deal was explicitly no strings attached. You were finding it harder to keep up your end of the bargain. 

Word Count: 8.2k (A behemoth of a fic, I'm so sorry guys)

Warnings: FWB, language, angst, reader is totally in love with Miguel, Miguel being a bit of an ass, probably a tad toxic? SMUT, p in v (no protection), cum play, low-key breeding kink? Like super low-key. Oral (f receiving). Miguel climbing through windows. Idk why I'm obsessed with that thought lmfao I make him climb through windows every chance I get. Idiots in love. Probably a rushed ending, sorry!

Thanks to @whatthefishh for beta-reading. Partly inspired by this.

Also, this is mega ultra cliche, we all know they're gonna end up together, so just enjoy the ride! It's not the destination, it's the journey 😌 Hope you guys enjoy, and if you do, pls let me know what you think! I love reading your comments!

MDNI pls.

...

It was always a mission getting to Miguel's office.

Headquarters wasn't built to accommodate civilians, the winding pathways and corridors a danger if one wasn't too careful.

You had to be extra careful. 

You hurried toward Miguel's office, heels clicking against clean tiled floors as you dodged a fuck ton of spider people and the inescapable attention of one annoying Peter Parker.

"Come on," Peter Parker number two hundred tried his luck again, "just one date. I’ll take you anywhere you wanna go." 

"No." You rolled your eyes, swatting him with the manilla folder in your hands like you would a fly. 

“Look, all I’m saying is you should give me a shot. I’m funny.”

“So is every other Peter Parker I’ve encountered.”

“I’m different.”

“I doubt it.” 

He deflated, keeping up with your quick steps. “Who doesn’t like funny guys?”

“Me.”

“Sure,” he stretched the word out, unconvinced, "so if not funny guys then what? The ones with sticks up their asses, like Miguel?" He snorted with a shake of his head. You knew it was a sort of rhetorical question but you couldn’t help swallowing thickly, your hands gripping the folder a little too tightly. 

Yeah. Something like that.

You felt your heart drop to your stomach when Peter Parker two hundred raised his brows at your silence. So maybe he did want an answer.

"Nah, there's no way. I'll try again tomorrow." He smiled, shooting a web out in some random direction and swinging off toward the floor above. 

Fuck. That was close.

You breathed a sigh of relief, loosening your fingers over the folder before quickly hurrying toward your destination. 

You pressed your watch against the sensor outside of Miguel's office, waiting for the metal door to slide open. It didn't. You tried again. Still nothing. Again. It wouldn't budge.

"Ugh, come on, Miguel!" You banged the door with a tiny fist as if that would make a difference, "open up!" 

Lyla appeared suddenly, her sprite-like form circling your head once before she faced you.

"You probably shouldn't go in there," she warned, "he's in a…mood." 

"He’s always in a mood," your hands were on your hips now, the manilla folder crinkling further in your hand, "I need to report a couple of grievances—"

"Mmmmmm, I'm sure that's the last thing he wants to hear right now, Miss HR." God you hated when they called you that. You rolled your eyes, swatting her away with the folder which did nothing, of course, and pressed your watch against the sensor. 

"That's not gonna work, honey."

"So let me in." 

"Promise to be nice?"

"To who?" You snorted, "You or Miguel?" 

"Me," Lyla grinned, adjusting her heart-shaped glasses, "forget Miguel." 

You sighed, cracking a smile, "Lyla, would you please let me into Miguel's office?" The Ai made a noise of approval, comically saluting you before granting you access.

"Don't say I didn't warn ya." She sang, disappearing from your sight. 

You sighed. Miguel's shifting moods were nothing new to you—not anymore. Back when you both worked at Alchemax, he was passive and less quick to anger. But that seemed a lifetime ago. 

Life progresses. People change.

“Mig?” You called out, peering up toward his solitary platform. You could hear the soft hisses of machinery, the yellow glow of Miguel’s holo screens illuminating the area above like a radiant star.

He didn’t answer. 

“Miguel,” you tried again, “we have some things to discuss.” You slapped the manilla folder against your hand as if he’d recognize the sound of formal complaints filed within the last week. 

The platform began to descend after a moment, and you breathed a sigh of relief as his figure came into view. His shoulders were stiff, his body rigid as he swiped through the yellow screens.

“I told Lyla not to let anyone in.” His voice was cold, frigid even. He didn’t bother to face you, his eyes pinned to his screens as he leaned forward, the muscles of his back flexing through his suit. 

You couldn’t see what he was looking at but you could hear it: the soft giggles of a little girl, the cheers of a soccer game, the chuckles of a man now broken. It wasn’t the first time you’d heard the sounds of Miguel’s past. It probably wouldn’t be the last either.

“I-uh, got some reports to share with you.” You felt foolish. Lyla was right. HR complaints were the last thing on Miguel’s mind. 

“Reports of the anomaly on Earth 9811?” Your brows pinched in irritation. He knew those weren’t the reports you had. You were fucking HR, not on active duty, let alone a spider person. 

"No, you'd have to ask Jess or Gwen about that, but you need to listen—"

“I don’t want to hear it.” He grunted. You saw his hands form fists at his sides, the same hands that’d fisted your sheets in the throes of pleasure just days ago. 

You shook your head. It was not the time for that kind of thought. 

You carefully opened the crinkled folder, pulling out the paperwork you’d printed from your antique printer to read aloud from it.

“Peter Parker of Earth 5431-02 has formally filed a complaint,” you began, your eyes scanning the black text before releasing an exasperated sigh, “he’s saying you threw a chair at him?” Miguel grunted, the holo screens shutting off at his (Lyla’s) command.

“He’s an idiot.” Miguel snapped, finally turning to face you, his sharp features shadowed by the lack of light. He regarded you carefully, red eyes tracing your figure. You’ve grown used to the way his eyes lingered over you, especially when you were under him, his body pressed against yours, but sometimes you couldn’t help but squirm under his more severe gaze.

“Well, yeah,” you reluctantly agreed with a tilt of your head, “but a chair, Miguel?”

“It’s not like it hurt him...badly.”

“That's not the point."

“The point is that I got my point across.” Miguel snorted. 

"It's the principle. You don't go around throwing fucking chairs at the people who work for you!" 

"Mhm." 

"You're their boss! What kind of behavior is that?"

"Uh-huh." 

You were about ready to strangle him but knew your fingers couldn’t even go around his throat properly. You’ve tried before, under very different circumstances. You settled for pinching the bridge of your nose, as he often did, taking a breath to calm yourself before you completely lost your shit. "Listen to me."

"I'm listening, HR."

"Ugh, look," you pointed a finger up toward him, your brows knitted in obvious irritation, "annoying or not, he's still a member of the Spider Society, therefore, he has every right—”

“—to file a grievance under any circumstance as a result of an injustice, discrimination, or harmful behavior, and is to be given the respect to which every spider person is due as a valued member of the society. I know.” Miguel finished the legal jargon for you, hopping off the platform with an ease that’d always surprised you.

He stepped into your space, his large body casting a long shadow over you as he snatched the crinkled paperwork from your hands. 

“I’ll speak with him.” He grunted. You pursed your lips, watching as his eyes scanned over the page.

"Make it right, Mig. Apologize. Formally. Or informally. It doesn’t matter— there’s nothing normal about this place anyway.” You placed your hands on your hips as you leaned forward, aware of how he was suddenly gazing down at you. “Just be nice, okay? Compensate him with, I dunno, a minor mission. He always wants to get involved, so let him.” 

Miguel rolled his eyes, heaving a great sigh while running his hand through his hair. “Fine.”

“And no more throwing chairs to make a point.”

“Uh-huh, fine, anything else?” God, you wanted to smack him. You opted for snatching back the paperwork from his hand, smoothing out the wrinkles over your skirt-clad thighs before searching for the proper page.

“Yeah," you brought a finger down on the page, "the spiders are getting bored of the cafeteria food.” That was enough for Miguel's face to pinch in displeasure.

“What’s wrong with empanadas and churros?” He scoffed, waving his hand to dismiss the complaint, “And that stupid blue burger with my face on it?” He paused, eyes squinting for a moment, “You know what? That can go. Get rid of it.”

“Fine. Do I have permission to organize a survey?”

“For food?” 

“Yes, for food. They want options.” 

“Aye, por Dios,” Miguel grunted, waving his hand again, “Fine.” 

“Fine.” 

“Anything else?” 

“Nope.” You organized the documents back into the manila folder before handing it over to him.

“You know you could just send this electronically, right?” He looked down at the folder, his eyes tracing your neat cursive in black ink.

“I’m old-fashioned.” You shrugged, turning on your heels. You heard him snort out a laugh, a tiny thing that made you smile. He has a nice laugh.

“One more thing,” Miguel called out, demandingly. You looked over your shoulder at him as he regarded you with heavy eyes.

��What is it?” 

He boarded the platform once again, the machinery coming to life and slowly elevating him back to his preferred height. He tossed the folder somewhere over the desk, to be forgotten. It was the least of his worries at that moment.

You watched Miguel ascend above you like some kind of heavenly being, the yellow light of the holo screens illuminating his tan skin till he glowed molten gold. You waited on him with bated breath, his response sinking straight to your core.

“Keep your window unlocked tonight.” 

…

He loves it when you ride him. 

His large hands were glued to your hips as you bounced on him expertly, your cunt soaking him in your sticky juices. 

Most nights began this way—with Miguel's cock buried deep in your pussy after a long day of enduring his insufferable attitude. You'd fuck the stress out of him—fuck the astronomical weight of the multiverse off his shoulders if only for a few short hours.

"Been thinking about this all day." He groaned under you, throwing his head back over your pillow when he felt your walls grip his length viciously, fighting to keep him in.

"Yeah?" You gasped, your hands firmly planted on his bare chest as you made work of your hips, rotating them in delicious circles—the way he liked—your thighs spread wide to accommodate his massive size. "W-wasn't enough to curb that a-attitude though, huh?" 

Even amid the utmost pleasure—of Miguel's length hitting a spot that had you trembling—you found the strength to taunt him, your hazy eyes catching a glimpse of the twitch in his brow. That meant trouble.

Within seconds Miguel had you on your back, his imposing body trapping you against your mattress. His cock slipped out for a moment but he had no problem finding his way back into your slippery channel, snapping his hips strategically to reach as deep as he could.

You cried out, your hands scrambling to find purchase over his shoulders, your pretty manicured nails digging into his perfectly golden skin.

"F-fuck! Miguel!"

"Wanna say that again?" He growled, his face hovering mere centimeters from yours, "Go ahead, say it again." You did nothing but whimper as he pounded into you mercilessly, his cock stretching you open. 

"That's what I thought." Miguel chuckled smugly, delighting in your little chokes and stutters, egging him to keep pounding you relentlessly. You tried speaking—tried to articulate your words to him, but you couldn't, too cock drunk to focus on anything else but his gorgeous face twisted up in pleasure and his thick cock kissing the secret place within you.

He had you coming soon after, stars exploding behind your lids as you trembled in his arms. Your cunt squeezed him just right and he came, panting in your ear as he filled you to the brim. 

His spend stained your sheets when he pulled out, and as always, he watched it dribble out from your swollen cunt with lidded eyes. He wasted no time in taking his fingers and stuffing the mess back in.

“Keep me in there.” He muttered, swiping through your puffy folds one final time before he ripped himself from you. You immediately soured, keeping your gaze on him as he quickly cleaned himself off with a cloth you left for him on your nightstand. 

You admired his figure: the ripple of his muscles as he moved, the broadness of his shoulders, the glow of his skin in the dim lighting of your bedroom. 

Miguel was gorgeous. You’ve always thought so.

His suit glitched before coming to life, covering his sculpted body in the usual blue and red you've come to know. 

“Did…you want to eat before you go?” Dinner was on the stove, cold but still good. You sat up against your headboard, more of his spend leaking out as you fiddled with your fingers over the soiled sheets. 

Miguel shook his head, sighing as he closed his eyes for a moment.

“I have to go.” He said, stepping forward, grabbing your hand, and placing a chaste kiss over your knuckles. It was the only form of affection he’d allowed himself to give you. He’d never kissed you before. Probably never will. It wasn't part of the deal.

Your heart sunk, your skin searing where his lips had lingered. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Most nights ended this way—with your aching cunt full of his seed and your eyes wet with unshed tears as you watched him leave through your window, disappearing into the night.

…

A few days later, Peter B. Parker landed in your office. Quite literally. 

He plopped down on the seat in front of yours from seemingly nowhere, a messily packed diaper bag hanging loosely from his shoulder. He had his daughter snuggly pressed against his chest in her carrier, her chubby arms and legs flailing over his pink robe.

You yelped, dropping the pen in your hand, clutching your chest in freight. 

“Jesus! Where the hell did you just come from?!”

“Up there.” Peter pointed up. You followed his line of vision, noting the door to the air vent busted open, barely hanging from its hinges. “Sorry about the vent.” He offered sheepishly, taking a large bite of a slice of pizza he'd pulled from a greased-up brown paper bag. 

"You could've just taken the elevator!"

"Takes too long to get to the basement.” He said between a mouthful of pizza, “Why'd Miguel give you an office down here anyway?" 

"I'm scared of heights." You reminded him, watching Mayday struggle to release herself from her carrier prison. Peter snorted out a laugh, dropping the diaper bag on the floor while simultaneously taking another bite of his pizza.

“Doesn’t make sense to work in a place like this.”

“It was the deal I made when Miguel asked me to work for him. Chew with your mouth closed.”

“Have you tried the cafeteria pizza?" He asked suddenly, ignoring your demand and speaking with another mouth full of the greasy treat, "It's the new thing. Everyone's going crazy."

You smiled smugly. "I know. You’re welcome."

“Ah, I should've known Miss HR was behind this!” You rolled your eyes at the nickname, rummaging through your drawer before tossing him a few napkins.

“What can I do for you, Peter?” 

Mayday whined, crawling out of the carrier and over her father’s thighs. She hopped on your desk, scattering some of your paperwork. You quickly caught her before she tumbled off the edge, cooing at her before placing her in your lap. You squeezed her in your arms and she let out a scream of delight before squirming, reaching out in wonder at the different knick-knacks on your desk. 

“Right, almost forgot." Peter took the last bite of his pizza, wiping his face and fingers with the napkins you provided before his face morphed into something serious. "Is this guy bothering you?” He pulled out a yellow holo pad, one presumably given to him by Miguel, revealing a video of you and Peter Parker two hundred from the other day. 

You blinked, your eyes tracing the moving image carefully.

”Oh. Not really,” you finally said, ripping your gaze away from the screen, “Nothing I can't handle. Why?” 

“Miguel asked me to investigate the situation discreetly.” 

"Asked?"

"Well, demanded, you know Miguel," Peter shrugged, reaching down into the diaper bag and procuring a lollipop when Mayday began to whine, “he’s concerned. I figured it’d be easier to just ask you about it.” 

You frowned, grasping the sweet when he handed it over to you, pulling off the wrapper and placing it in Mayday's chubby hand, “That’s hardly discreet.”

“I didn’t wanna follow the guy around!” 

“He's making you do that?”

“‘Of course he is. Doesn't like the guy. He barely tolerates me!” 

You snorted. “Why does Miguel even care?”

"You know him better than any of us do. If anyone would know, it’s you." 

Well, that was true.

You knew Miguel before he created the Spider Society, before he was ever Spider-Man. You knew him before his addiction to Rapture, before he experienced fatherhood, before he lost Gabriella. 

Back when, to the world, he was just some guy in a white lab coat. 

But he was never just some guy to you. 

You’ve loved Miguel for years. You’d loved him in your early days at Alchemax, when he was fresh out of college and eager to begin his shaky career, back when you were hanging on to the corporation by a measly thread of an unpaid internship. You were a pair, stuck to each other like glue.

A few years later, when you both decided to take it a step further and mess around, well, that only ignited your feelings further. Miguel was an attentive lover. He knew your needs and fulfilled them, taking you to the heights of pleasure before humbling you just as smoothly with his strict rules about your agreement. 

He didn’t have time to cater to someone's feelings—didn’t have time for a romantic relationship when he had too much on his plate. But his sexual appetite demanded attention—and why not with someone he’s called a friend for years? 

You were just a friend. And that’s all you’d ever be. 

It was just sex. That's all it'd ever be.

“You okay?” Peter ripped you away from your thoughts, his brows furrowed in concern.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You answered with a sigh, gently resting your chin over Mayday’s soft curls. “Is Miguel worried?” 

“You’re the closest thing he has to a friend, of course he’s worried about you. Those were his words, not mine.” Peter shrugged, putting his holo pad away, “so is there a cause for concern?” The thought alone almost made you smile. Almost. Instead, you scoffed, shaking your head.

“I’m usually the one that handles these situations, you know.”

“And who’s supposed to help you?”

“I don’t need help.” 

“Right.” He didn’t seem convinced. “Miguel doesn't seem to think so. You sure?”

“Very.”

“Alright, I did my part!” He clapped his hands as if he’d successfully completed a mission, “Time to go, Mayday!” He stood, grabbing the babbling baby from you and placing her back in the carrier.

"She's precious." You said, gently pinching Mayday's drool-covered cheek as she teethed over her lollipop.

"Takes after her dad." Peter grinned, snatching up the diaper bag, "Listen, if you ever need any help—"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, get outta here, Parker." You shooed him away, quickly organizing your wrinkled paperwork together. You could still feel his eyes on you as you kept your hands busy, and when you finally looked at him he had a silly smile on his face.

"What?"

“You guys are idiots." He was still grinning.

"What?"

"Nothin'," he said, pressing a kiss to Mayday's red curls, "Just do me a favor. Don't mention any of this to Miguel, alright?" 

You crossed your arms, leaning back against your swivel chair. "Sure."

...

"So you think I need help?"

Miguel's hands immediately stilled on your hips as you stirred the boiling pasta over your electric stove. 

You didn't hear him come in, but you had a feeling he’d show up. It had been a couple of days since he’d fucked you, and there were many stressful days between then and now.

So you’d left your window unlocked just in case.

"What are you talking about?" He muttered, his fingers lightly dancing on your waist before pulling away completely.  

"Nothing." You huffed to yourself, cutting off the heat and getting on your toes to reach for the pasta strainer on the shelf above. After a second of watching you struggle, Miguel put a hand on your shoulder to stop you, reaching forward to grab it for you.

"Doesn’t sound like ‘nothing’.” He finally said, observing you strain the pasta over the sink, the steam from the hot water engulfing you both in what felt like a thick cloud of tension. You peered over your shoulder at him, your eyes raking over his solid form.

“You know, Peter Parker two hundred?” You asked, witnessing his face contort from passive to extreme annoyance.

He sucked his teeth, pinching the bridge of his nose. He leaned back against your counter, looking so out of place in your tiny kitchen, his broad shoulders almost the entire width of your cupboard. “I told Peter to be discreet.”

“He said you’re worried about your only friend.” You continued to tease him, emphasizing the word as you lifted the lid to a pot where a homemade Pomodoro sauce was bubbling. 

“I said that?” Miguel muttered, feigning innocence, watching you take a spoon and scoop some of the red sauce for a quick taste. You could feel his gaze on you, his eyes tracing the way your tongue licked off the remnants of sauce. 

You hummed in approval before scooping up some more and turning to offer Miguel a taste. You lifted the spoon toward him, and after a moment of contemplation, he hunched forward with arms crossed over his toned chest, mouth opening slightly to allow you to press the spoon past his lips. 

His eyes fluttered as he savored the rich taste, humming his own tune of approval. 

"Is it good?" 

“Mhm.”

You beamed, eyeing how he licked his lips like a satisfied cat, his fangs protruding slightly when he ran his tongue over them. The same fangs you’ve felt over your delicate skin from time to time. 

Miguel was a biter. You didn’t mind.

Miguel grunted, using his thumb to wipe off a bit of sauce that lingered near the corner of your lips. You inhaled a shaky breath, your eyes fluttering from the heat of his touch.

"What else did he say?" He murmured, looming over you, his hand now gently cradling the back of your neck, thumb caressing your skin. 

"T-that you're worried about me?" You breathed. Miguel pulled you closer suddenly, the faintest noise of surprise escaping you. His suit always felt strange under your fingers, the digitized fabric almost slippery, like fine silk. It was ridiculous how perfect you felt wrapped up in his arms. You sometimes wished he'd show up in civilian clothes. You missed his lazy outfits when he'd throw on an old t-shirt and a pair of sweats. 

You couldn't remember the last time you'd seen him in anything other than his suit (and his naked form, of course). It meant he was always on the clock, devoting all his precious time to the multiverse. 

It meant that whenever he was alone with you, he considered it work.

And yet, the suit made you feel secure and safe—like nothing in the world could harm you. And there was truth to that, though the only thing harming you these days was Miguel himself. But that was your fault too.

The deal was explicitly no strings attached. You were finding it harder to keep up your end of the bargain. 

You gazed at his full lips. You desperately wanted to taste them, to know how soft and warm they would feel molded against yours. If you were brave enough you might have stolen a taste, might have felt those sharp canines for yourself on your tongue.

Miguel’s thick fingers trailed into your hair, gripping the roots with just a hint of pressure, his lidded eyes taking in every part of your face: your brows, your eyes, the bridge of your nose, and your supple lips—wet and swollen from biting them so damn much.

"Maybe just a little," he finally answered, his shoulders shifting in a slight shrug. You could feel his length press against your hip, hot and throbbing, demanding attention. 

It filled you with pride knowing your proximity was enough to get him excited. It shouldn't though. It was only arousal. Basic primal instincts. 

You shouldn’t be feeling pride for any of this. You had to remind yourself of that.

You closed your eyes, willing your heartbeat to slow down just a bit. Could you really be this love-sick? So hung up on a man who was emotionally unavailable? If you hadn’t fallen before, then you knew you were plummeting now, so far gone that you’d let Miguel do anything to you.

So when he whisked you away to your bedroom, dinner long forgotten, you didn’t put up a fight.

He fucked you from behind. 

It was a tight stretch, your wet cunt fighting him as he tried pressing his swollen tip in with little luck. 

"Gotta let me in," he grunted, spreading your cheeks wide to gaze down at your twitching holes, "you're too tight. Let me in." 

"I'm trying," you panted, tears in your eyes as you buried your face into the sheets, "i-it's been a while." 

"It's okay," his large hands caressed the globes of your ass in comfort, "it's my fault. Haven't been fucking you enough, hm? S'my fault." Miguel rubbed his cock through your soaked folds a few times, the obscene noises of your sopping cunt causing him to grunt. 

"Goddamn, so fuckin' wet." He muttered before lining himself up and carefully pushing in again. You cried out, fisting the sheets when he successfully got the tip in. He groaned, the guttural sound masking your tiny mewls as he pushed on, your wet cunt coating him entirely in your sticky essence, easing his entry just a bit.

"Fuck, Miguel, it h-hurts." You whined, the stretch of him both painful and pleasurable as he bullied his way in, his girthy cock plunging through your fluttering walls. 

"Shh, I know." He rarely cooed as he did now, reassuring you with gentle noises and tender touches as he eased into you, balls deep in your core, “Look how good you’re doing for me. S’good.” A fresh wave of arousal dripped from you at his praise, your fluttering cunt allowing him to push and pull as he pleased.

He began a steady rhythm, holding your hips tightly to work you over his length, muttering to himself all the while as he watched how your creamy juices clung to his cock and covered his skin.

The pain quickly subsided into blinding pleasure. Miguel had you mewling into your mattress, your eyes rolling and drool slipping past your lips, your back impossibly arched, and your swollen cunt wetter than it’s ever been. The slapslapslap of his hips against your ass was loud in the quiet of your bedroom, your moans even louder when he skillfully hit something inside you that made you see stars every single time. 

You loved the feel of him, loved the stretch of his cock, loved how your cunt would ache for days after as if to remember him. 

“Coño,” Miguel growled, keeping a large hand on your lower back to keep you steady in your arched position, “you sound so pretty when I fuck you.” He suddenly gripped your hair, pulling you up as he curved over you, continuing to spill filth into your ears.

It was too much. 

“M-Miguel, I’m g-gonna—”

“Cum for me.” 

That was it. The dam burst within you, your eyes rolling back as you cried out, cunt spasming and gushing all over him.

“That’s it,” he muttered, sloppily thrusting into your tightening core, “good girl.”

“Miguel,” you continued to whine, grinding against him, “Fuuuck, I love you.” 

You didn’t even realize what you said until it was too late, so wrapped up in the bliss of it all that your mouth worked faster than your brain could think.

You froze when you felt him still above you. He released your hair, bringing his hand back to your hips before gripping them viciously, chasing his own release. He rammed into you faster, slamming his hips against your ass one final time before letting out a guttural groan deep from within the confines of his chest. You could only imagine how he looked: tan skin glistening, chocolate hair plastered against his brow and head tossed back in pleasure. 

Miguel said nothing as he gently removed his cock from your aching sex, letting his seed dribble out from you and soak into the sheets.

As soon as you turned around he was already in his suit, pushing a few buttons on his watch before he brought his wine-colored eyes to you. 

"I have to go."

“Mig?” You whispered his name softly, your naked body burning with embarrassment, “I-I’m sorry I—”

"I’ll see you tomorrow.” It was the same thing he always said, but it hurt twice as much. It was as if he were on autopilot, disconnected from what just happened. 

You felt your heart plummet into your stomach as you watched Miguel leave through your window with a speed he usually reserved for missions.

His spend caked your thighs. There was so much of it coming out of you, more so than usual, his cum ruining your sheets enough that you’d need to change them before bed. 

You sniffled, eyes watering, tears threatening to fall. He didn’t even kiss your hand goodbye.

You ripped yourself away from the soiled sheets, stomping over to your window as his cum leaked down your inner thighs before slamming it closed, locking it for good.

...

“You made this?” Miles exclaimed with a mouth full of spaghetti, clumsily twirling another forkful over his paper plate. You were handing out some of the spiders' leftover Pomodoro pasta from the previous night. You’d lost your appetite. It’d be a shame if you let it all go to waste.

“Yeah, eat up, there’s enough for everyone.” You scooped out more pasta from a Tupperware and onto a paper plate for Gwen. The younger girl’s eyes sparkled as she grabbed the plate, immediately slurping up a bite.

“Oh my god,” she muttered, lips covered in red sauce, “why are you working at the Spider Society when you could be a chef?”

“It’s because Miguel begged her to work here,” Miles quipped, a lone spaghetti hanging from his mouth.

“And who told you that?” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Uhh,” his eyes flew over to Peter B., who was waiting patiently for his own plate of pasta to be served. You turned and narrowed your eyes at Peter, who chuckled nervously. 

“Listen,” he began, hands thrown up in surrender, “the kid got curious, okay? He was convincing, I mean, look at those eyes.” You huffed, snatching Peter’s plate and loading it up with pasta.

“You guys are annoying,” you muttered with no bite, shifting your gaze toward Hobie, who sat quietly with his legs thrown up on the table, “Hobie, fuck the government and all that, but you need to get your dirty boots off the table if you want some food.” 

Hobie sighed dramatically, letting his boots drop to the ground.

“Fine, boss lady.” 

Satisfied, you handed him a plate.

“So, let’s talk about you being a chef?” Gwen tried again, scrapping the remaining bits off her plate. 

“It’s just pasta,” you shrugged, pulling out a chair and taking a seat, “anyone can make a Pomodoro.”

“My dad can’t.”

“…why?”

“He’s Irish.”

“And a bloody cop,” Hobie interjected, twirling his pasta with a plastic fork, “hate those.”

“Here we go,” Gwen huffed, the beginnings of an argument forming. You chose to ignore them, letting Gwen, Miles, and Hobie bicker between themselves.

You squirmed in your seat, crossing your legs to cure the throbbing within. You could still feel Miguel, the stretch of his cock, and the inevitable ache that lingered afterward. You were still full of him, your cunt wet even hours later, plaguing you with the thought of never feeling him again. 

You drummed your fingers over the messy table littered with paper plates and napkins, your body hunched forward, lost in thought.

“So…” Peter began, adjusting the collar of his pink robe, “you gonna tell me what’s going on or am I gonna have to force it outta you?” You whipped your head to look at him, brows furrowed as you regarded him.

“What makes you think something’s going on?” You whispered, hoping the cafeteria was loud enough so the rest of the table wouldn’t hear.

“Something’s going on or you wouldn’t be whispering,” Peter whispered back, his blue eyes pinned to yours as he searched for answers. 

“It’s nothing.” You answered quickly, continuing to squirm in your seat, fighting to ignore your achy cunt. 

“Did you guys finally smooch?” You froze, your hands gripping the edge of the table with a force that made your knuckles go white. 

“Peter, what the fuck are you talking about?” You hissed, watching him happily eat his Pomodoro.

“You think I don’t know?” He challenged, “It might not be obvious to everyone else but I know what’s going on.” He winked at you, dabbing a napkin messily over his mouth.

Your heart was pounding, ready to beat out your chest, but you schooled your features as best you could. You swallowed thickly, crossing your arms over your chest as if to make yourself smaller. 

“Okay, fine, you know. What of it?” 

“Miguel’s being mopey.”

“Mopey?” You snorted, shaking your head, “He’s always mopey, isn’t he?”

“This is a different kind of mopey,” Peter raised a brow, “it’s actually kind of… frightening.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s got nothing to do with us, for once. Usually one of us pisses him off enough to throw things but he’s on a mission. Said he needed to clear his head. So what happened?” You sighed, shoulders sagging.

“I might have said something I wasn’t supposed to last night.”

“What?”

“We made a deal,” you explained in a whisper, “no feelings, just…you know,” you wiggled your fingers, hoping it would be enough of an explanation. Peter nodded, urging you to continue, “Well, I messed up.”

“How?”

“ItoldhimIlovehim.” You blurted out, your hands flying over your mouth. Peter blinked with a subtle tilt of his head, before a grin stretched over his lips. You groaned, now covering your eyes, “W-what is that, why are you smiling? Stop it.”

“I mean, one of you had to say it first.”

“Peter, you’re killing me here.” He rolled his eyes, inching close enough till your knees brushed against his.

“You don’t think the big guy feels the same way?”

“No!” You squeaked incredulously, “There’s no way. You should’ve seen him yesterday. He could barely look at me!” 

“You caught him off guard.”

“I know that, but he still could’ve said something. Anything.”

“He’s a guy. Guys are stupid.” You groaned, pushing your hair out of your face. You turned to look at the other spiders. You knew they’d been listening given the way they all turned away immediately.

“Someone is stupid,” you muttered to Peter, feeling dejected, “and it’s definitely not him.”

...

You took a deep breath before placing your watch over the sensor.

The door to Miguel’s office didn’t budge, not to your surprise. Lyla must have blocked the systems again.

What were you even doing there? 

You hadn’t seen Miguel in about a week. That was ample time to inform you he wanted nothing to do with you. You couldn't blame him but still, it was…unprofessional. He was your boss at the end of the day. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have started fucking the head of the Spider Society. Your weak heart wouldn’t be in shambles if you didn’t.

It was a stupid move, you knew, telling someone you love them in the throes of passion when they clearly weren’t on the same page, unprovoked or not. He probably hates you. He must. 

You’d given yourself enough time to think it through and given yourself so many pep talks before deciding a professional relationship with Miguel was for the best. No more friends with benefits. 

No more keeping your window unlocked.

You took a breath and tried again. No luck. 

Did he fire you? That couldn’t be right. You were still in the system and able to enter HQ with your keycard just fine. 

“You’re always catching him at a bad time,” Lyla sighed beside you, whipping out her tiny little holographic phone, “he didn’t even want to take a photo! Unbelievable!” The small image on her screen revealed a snarling Miguel, clearly unamused by the bunny filter plastered over his face. It was cute, even if he looked a bit terrifying baring his fangs. 

Lyla shifted to face you, hands on her little hips as she looked you up and down.

“You look niiice,” she quickly snapped a photo of you, “no cute filter needed.”

“Uhh, thanks?”

“Now it’s your turn to say something nice to me.” The Ai grinned when you rolled your eyes. 

“You look…extra yellow today, Lyla.” 

“Thank you! I’m in default mode.”

“Okay, so I’ll just come back later then?” You rushed to leave but Lyla stopped you, zapping in front of you suddenly.

“Nah, I’ll let you in.” You could hear the door to Miguel’s office opening, “Fix him.” 

“What? How am I supposed to do that?” 

Lyla shrugged, “I dunno, I just know you’re the only one that can.” She waved farewell, disappearing in a glimmer of gold. 

You groaned, dropping your head in your hands for a moment to collect your thoughts. Your palms began to sweat—they always did when you were nervous—so you quickly wiped them over your black pencil skirt before facing the office entryway. 

It was dark as usual, the only light illuminating the area was Miguel’s bright yellow screens. They hung above him as he sat slouched in his chair, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. His head turned lazily to regard you. 

“I heard you’ve been mopey.” You began, cracking a smile when he snorted. He shook his head, watching you slowly approach him like one would a wounded animal.  He didn’t confirm nor deny the accusation.

“What do you need?” 

“To talk to you.” You said, finding the courage to step into his space, leaning back against his desk and blocking one of the yellow screens.

“About?” 

“Us.” Miguel hummed, running a hand through his messy hair. He sat up in his chair but said nothing else, allowing you the space to speak freely.

“I-I wanted to apologize if I made you feel uncomfortable,” you began to fumble with your fingers, unable to keep eye contact with him for very long, “I know that what I said was…crossing the line—”

“Did you mean it?” He asked abruptly, the question forcing your eyes away from your fingernails and toward his chiseled face. He looked exhausted, eyes heavy but swimming with curiosity.

“W-well, I mean, it was a moment of—”

“Did you mean it?” He repeated, his tone stern as he awaited a proper answer from you. You bit your lip, slowly nodding your head.

“Yeah. I did. Still do.” 

The silence that stretched wasn’t very long but it felt like an eternity. Miguel only stared at you, his jaw tight as he sat forward, his elbows resting on his toned thighs.

You wished you could read his thoughts, take a peek at what ran through his mind. He was always so good at hiding his emotions, never showing an ounce of what he felt. That wasn’t always the case but after Gabriella, he didn’t show much of anything. 

“I think it’s best we don’t see each other anymore,” you finally concluded, crossing your arms, “we should stop.”

“What?” Miguel’s eyes narrowed, “What do you mean stop?” He was towering over you in a matter of seconds, forcing you to crane your neck to look up at him. Your heart was pounding, your hands flying to grip the edge of his desk.

“Mig, we can’t keep doing this.”

“Yes, we can.” He caged you in his arms, bringing his face just a few inches away from yours. He never had much of a problem with eye contact, but you did. You chose to look at his collarbones and the large swoop of his shoulders. It was intimidating and arousing all at once and you weren’t getting anywhere with this speech, were you?

“We can’t. Not when we’re not on the same page.” 

“Who says we’re not?” You felt his fingers graze the side of your face, pushing a lock of your hair behind your ear. You turned away, squeezing your eyes shut, feeling the familiar prick of tears behind your lids.

“Stop playing with me.” You said, pushing him away with little luck. Miguel shifted slightly at your touch, watching you rub at your eyes. 

“I’m not.” 

“Then why have you not said anything for a week?” You hissed, the frustration threatening to boil over, “You’ve left me agonizing over this for a week, Miguel!” You wiped furiously at your cheeks, catching a few stray tears. “I’m such an idiot.” 

Miguel grabbed your wrists in his hands, yanking them away from your face. His concerned eyes met your wet ones, a frown tugging at his lips.

“Stop.” He demanded, taking your flushed face in his hands and wiping the wet streaks away with his thumbs. “Don’t say that about yourself.” You glared, cheeks puffed and swollen from the pressure of fighting away tears.

“Fine,” you snapped, ignoring the way he stroked your cheeks, “you’re the fucking idiot.” 

“I am,” Miguel agreed with a sigh, refusing to release you, “I didn’t know what to say. Thought you might have been lying—don’t look at me like that.” 

“You’re pissing me off.”

“I know, beba.” The endearment startled you for a moment, your glossy eyes peering up at him as a rush of excitement settled in your stomach. He’d never used endearing words with you before. It had you stumped for a second before you remembered yourself, your brows furrowing in irritation

“Why would you think I was lying? Mig, I’ve loved you for years, you buffoon!” Miguel loomed closer with every word before he kissed you, silencing you effectively. Your eyes fluttered, your lips unresponsive at first until he coaxed you into a gentle rhythm. 

Kissing Miguel was so much softer than you imagined. 

You thought he’d be all tongue and teeth, desperate to devour his victim. His kisses were syrupy and deliberate, steady and reassuring. He was taking his time learning the shape of your lips, the plumpness, how perfect they felt molded against his. 

“I’m sorry, beba,” he said between kisses, letting you snake your arms around his neck to pull him closer, “perdoname. I’m an idiot.” You hummed in agreement, continuing to assault his lips sweetly. You couldn’t stop kissing him if you wanted to, sneaking your tongue past the seam of his lips to taste more of him. 

He growled, tightening his hold on you, allowing you to taste at your leisure. He tasted fresh, like the spearmint gum he always had on hand.

“Perdoname,” he repeated, wanting so desperately for you to forgive his transgressions, slotting himself between your legs.

“Yeah? You’re sorry?” you teased, feeling the familiar ache of arousal blooming in your core, “show me how sorry you are.” Another growl ripped from him, animalistic and provoked. He wasted no time, pushing you down so that your back was flat against his desk and your legs were wrapped around his hips. 

He pressed a button beside you and suddenly, the platform began to elevate. 

“Mig,” you sat up in a panic, but Miguel only pushed you back down, lifting your skirt up till it pooled over your waist, “w-why are we moving up?”

“Privacy,” he grunted, spreading your legs, running his thumb over the soaked patch of your panties. Your hands scrambled to find purchase on something over the desk, your heart hammering in your chest as the ceiling seemed to loom closer.

“Y-you know I’m scared of heights!” You squealed when the platform came to a jutting halt, squeezing your eyes shut. You didn’t even want to think about how high up you were.

“It’s okay,” Miguel purred, gently rubbing your clit through the fabric, “you’re safe, you’re with me, beba, no tengas miedo.” 

“M-Mig, please,” you didn’t even know what you were begging for at that point, you just needed something, and whatever that was, he gave to you. You felt him push aside your panties, and you finally spared him a glance, almost choking at the sight of him mesmerized by the sweetness between your legs.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he muttered, slipping a finger through your folds, “you dripping all over my desk.”

“Y-yeah?” 

“Mhm,” he hummed, easily ripping your panties apart before getting on his knees, “smell s’good.” He muttered, licking a stripe up with his fat tongue, scooping whatever mess you made. He moaned at the taste before completely diving in, eyes closed and large hands keeping your trembling thighs spread for him.

As always, you were a whimpering mess for him, mewling with every precise stroke of his tongue. It was the first time he’d done something like this, and god, it was nothing you could have ever dreamed of.  

He moaned into your cunt, the gentle vibrations sending shockwaves through your body. You trembled and whined with every loud slurp of his mouth over your clit, his tongue swiping over your precious bud before working his way down to dip inside your hole. 

“Fuck, Miguel,” your hands flew to his hair, your fingers weaving through the thick strands to keep his head in place. He skillfully nipped and licked the surface, lifting his face away slightly to spit into your cunt, watching it run through your puffy folds with lidded eyes before devouring you again.

“You taste fucking amazing,” he groaned, sucking your clit between his lips.

You threw your head back, letting out the prettiest moans for him. You forgot about everything, about where you were and how high up you were from the ground. You couldn’t care less as long as Miguel continued to eat from you like a madman. 

You could feel the tension in your abdomen, the clear sign that you were close. Miguel continued to drink from you, slurping obscenely at the fresh arousal that dripped into his mouth.

“Close?” He asked, giving you kitten licks, his hands squeezing your thighs encouragingly. 

“God y-yes, so close.” You could feel him smiling against your folds before starting up a vicious rhythm again with his eyes closed. 

With a loud cry, you came into his waiting mouth, your back arching and body withering over the table from the overstimulation. Miguel licked and sucked every inch of you, determined to catch every drop of your orgasm. 

“Oh my god,” you moaned, releasing your grip from his hair and draping an arm over your eyes. Miguel stood, removing your arm and leaning over your fatigued body. He looked down at you with intense red eyes, his mouth and chin completely covered in your slick. You bit your lip when a smile curved at the edges of his lips before he swooped down to kiss you.

You moaned, completely aroused all over again from your own musky taste on his lips. He slipped his tongue in your mouth, allowing you a proper taste. 

“Perdoname.” He begged again over your lips before gently brushing the tip of his nose against yours. You giggled, pushing him away slightly so that you could sit up on your elbows. 

“Mm, I don’t know,” you teased, “you’re gonna have to try again.” Miguel shook his head, tapping a button on his watch, and allowing his suit to vanish. You gasped at his sudden nakedness, your eyes glued to his throbbing erection. Miguel grinned, fangs bared, tapping his cock over your sensitive cunt.

You closed your eyes as he immediately pushed in, moaning as he worked himself into your tight channel. 

In your euphoric state, you barely registered him grabbing your hand and placing a chaste kiss over your knuckles, whispering over your skin. Your ears picked up a few words, some naughty and some sweet, but your heart fluttered and your chest tightened when you caught the last two words before he began pounding into you.

“Te amo.”

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

[bunji-enthusiast]

Dogday calling the player "Angel" gave me an idea. Can I have the toys reaction to their favorite caretaker being turned into a new toy named "The Gaurdian" who's basically a, well, gaurdian angel. They're purpose is too watch the toys from above in the shadows like batman and make sure they don't attack any of the employees, if they do they intertwine and save them before leaving. I'd imagine it'd be hard for the toys when the hour of joy arrives since the might have to hurt they're former caretaker

Guardianship

Note || absolutely!! I might’ve gotten lazy sorry- I keep forgetting to add a Taglist too lol.

WC || 959

“A Tight Squeeze” Toys – 

Huggy Wuggy:

He is very fond of you, one of many with having a very calming presence naturally. You always looked out for him, and even talked to him when nobody else would. Huggy always enjoyed your presence, but it was even more sudden to know that you had been turned into a brand new toy that was displayed and released as an official one.

The Guardian, as he had heard scientists and employees like to call the toy, was immediately surprised upon finally seeing you for himself. One day he had gotten a little too aggressive toward an employee and a swoop of air brushed past him, intervening between the employee and Huggy himself. He looked around to see who had done that, yet for the first time in his existence as a toy, he felt chilled to the bone to see your eyes glaring at him from the darkness. 

Huggy wished he didn’t have to go against you when time came for the hour of joy, but you were protecting the employees he was attacking from him. He had to injure you, and he didn’t like that, but he was forced to. Because of Prototype, he believed in the prototype, just barely but he didn’t want to hurt you at all. For a moment, he felt as if he were crying when attacking you

Poppy:

She didn’t even know what had happened to you, Poppy was kept far off and away from you even during your time as a human. Oh she wished to be free, to end it all. But she certainly hadn’t expected to be locked in the case, she may have been locked in there but that didn’t restrict her from hearing things.

Guardian huh? Maybe she could convince you to side with her, be against the Prototype once she is finally freed from her stupid case. Though the screams she had heard, both animalistic and human will never leave her mind. 

    Bron:

Bron was a quiet dinosaur, keeping to himself and simply interacting with children whenever the few had come up to him. Overtime he had become well acquainted with you when you were human, being confused when you had suddenly stopped showing up. He had heard talk of a new toy known as the guardian, but it was yet unfortunate in his opinion as he had not lived long enough through the hour of joy to meet you once more.

He too was a heretic. 

       Kissy Missy: 

She liked you, quite a lot when she met you. You gave off a very motherly vibe, reminding her of her fragmented past memories. Kissy had gotten closer to you then she did with others, feeling less small and afraid, more open in her movements when she was around you. 

Kissy was sad when you had disappeared into thin air, leaving work one day all of the sudden. Though her answers were quickly made true when she saw you as The Guardian, a brand new toy whose purpose was to prevent other toys from being aggressive towards humans. Keeping them in line. Now she was just even more sad, but had remained interacting with you all the same.

When the Hour Of Joy occurred, she urged you to go and hide. Kissy didn’t want you hurt, as much as you protested, saying it was your job to. She was forced to knock you out the best she could, then dragged you somewhere safe and hidden – out of sight of the other toys. 

“Fly In A Web” Toys –

Mommy Long Legs + Bunzo Bunny:

She had a distinct liking toward you, seeing herself in you as you both had very motherly auras. Even when she had taken care of the children, you took care of her. Especially when it had carried into your unlikely accident of transformation, being turned into The Guardian. Mommy had heard it from the ears of many children, when she had inquired about it to any of them, she was devastated.

You no longer were yourself, as she had been reminded of numerous times when she had gotten too aggressive toward any adults (even employees in particular). Bunzo was worried when he had asked Mommy about it, she reassured the musical bunny it was fine. 

Everything certainly wasn’t, Bunzo had stayed out of participating in the Hour Of Joy. Mommy had to deal with the guilt of having to hurt you, because you were getting in her way so many times – always protecting the employees from her attacks the best you could. 

“Deep Sleep” Toys —

Smiling Critters + DogDay: 

They all had truly liked you, kind and caring as a real caretaker would be. Though even if it had just meant you cared for the toys in particular. DogDay always was chatty with you, talking about all his other friends.

Sadness and torment was just the last thing they all needed, you got turned, turned just like they were. You became The Guardian as many had called you, your personality and demeanor changed completely. Only swooping down to protect employees against toys who got a little too close for your liking. DogDay was sad, he didn’t like it all that much. They had all shared the same sentiment. 

When The Hour Of Joy came, all the smiling critters had fought against it. You were one of the few who went and protected the employees, DogDay was distressed wondering what to do. No longer he had to deal with it unfortunately as he had faced CatNap, he had punished him for being a heretic, going against the Prototype.

He didn’t even get to know what happened to you, only CatNap knew your fate and was hanging this information over DogDay’s head.

[Taglist: @everythingnicen0nnie @prince0fpaints @alocaldemisexual02]

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime x reader #x reader

[appleblueberry-pie]

You asked Yan!Miguel requests and I shall deliver

Yan!Miguel with a spider!reader that wasn't bitten by a spider but rather was experimented on (Alchemax still doing shady stuff) and has the same superpowers as Miguel (only that their venom is deadly).

However even after surviving the tragic things their canon indicates, they're a ball of sunshine.

oh yeah. it's all coming together.

MINE, ALLLLL MINE.

Miguel was having mixed feelings. He was coming to a point where it was hard to focus on his important work. It was hard to ignore his anxiety stomachache. Hard to ignore the usual annoying people that just wouldn't leave him alone in his man cave. And it was especially hard to forget about you. It wasn't ever possible to not think about you, but he just couldn't push you to the back of his head for at least two minutes. It was hurting him. It was also hurting his technology he kept destroying(he crushed two keyboards and threw his printer).

Why can't he just figure you out? Since Jess found you in your universe and immediately gave you the green flag to help his team of spider-people, he's found out so many things about you. But every time he is given an answer about one thing, it just digs him into a deeper hole of realization that he really doesn't know you. For starters, there's no legal government information of you anywhere. He's been watching you through his monitor for at least 2 hours a day, and most of your day consists of you beating ass. Like you have no other thing to do in your life, not to mean it in an insulting way.

It's just weird, because almost all spider-people have lives outside of them being spiders. But the more he observes you, your superhero life just reminds him more and more of....himself. You didn't have the obvious genetically-enhanced spider build that usual spiders do. Which was taller and slimmer. You were for sure taller(he did his research, you sprouted by 6 inches in height), but you were more on the muscular, bigger side. And this way, you would benefit more for close combat to take down enemies, instead of almost entirely relying on your webs. Similar to how he was. Another example to further explain, is he was watching you on his monitor while you had a mission to bring another universe's Green Goblin back to their universe. He found that your webs were obviously bio-engineered. Either you made these yourself, or someone made them for you. So, you were physically more powerful than the usual spider, had bio-engineered webs, and the way you fought.....

You had chased down that Green Goblin like he killed your family. It's not an exaggeration. GG was fast, but you were faster. He took multiple jerks around corners and through narrow alleyways, flying to get away from you. But you caught him. Slammed his body into the brick wall, damaging it. He screamed bloody murder to get away from you, and you just kept hitting him. He watched as your fist collided with his face multiple times. And when you finished, he saw you basically unhinge your jaw to show your long, venom-dripping, white fangs. They showed beautifully through the video footage lighting. They had to hurt when they protruded, it had to. But you didn't seem to care about anything in that moment besides finishing off your prey. You sunk your fangs into his neck, piercing them into his flesh as deep as you could, your regular teeth almost breaking into his skin as well. GG's scream of excruciating pain faded into complete silence. Miguel watched the man go limp in you arms. Was he dead? You held him to your body as close as you could to hide your catch from anyone who could've found the both of you. It concerned him so much with how you went about finding him, he had to interrupt you by calling your watch. You seemed to snap out of whatever trance you were in and removed your teeth from the now limp villain.

"Hello?" Your sweet voice rang through his watch and he couldn't find the right words to tell you to just bring the poor guy back to base. When you did, three doctors had to help resuscitate Green Goblin. What the hell did you do? You were asked this multiple times and you just felt more and more guilty when people continued to say it to you. Miguel decided to step in and remove you from the emergency room and just told you to take a few days off. All he could say to you is you deserved it, so you took his word. He immediately turned his monitors back on when you went back home, because it wasn't the end of your continuous mysteries.

When you go home, you clean up and then disappear. This wasn't news to him. But it was confusing because the cameras couldn't catch where you possibly went, even at different angles. It was somewhere in your bathroom. You'd open the shower curtain, step into the shower, close it and then not come out for the next 5 minutes. You did this once every two weeks. Other times when you were gone for the day, he tried to find the secret room you obviously had and...nothing. He couldn't find a damn thing. The wall was solid, it didn't seem like it was hiding anything. He scanned it multiple times with different gizmos he had up his sleeve, but nothing. So, after installing a small robotic fly that he placed into your home, he got lucky and managed to slip into a room hidden behind your shower when you went in at the dead of night. The room was almost entirely dark and all you had in there was countless metal bottles of some sort of a glowing serum and you would inject it into your shoulder. Something very similar to what he does to himself. He was surprised to next week with this information. What made it worse was that right after you injected yourself, you found his fake fly. So now you know someone was watching you. He can only hope you don't find out it was him who implanted it.

But now he was sure. You were just like him. It made him as happy as it made him frustrated because you had him all figured out. You knew he used injections, that he wasn't a natural spider, you probably also knew he loved you to the moon and back. He had a soft spot for you, and it showed so much it was pathetic. You could walk into his cave and call out for him with your siren song, and he would immediately turn off everything and drift your way, sweet nicknames for you sliding off of his tongue like sugar. He only ever wanted to please you. And he felt like you knew this. But even with everything he just found out about you just today, he still seemed in the dark.

All he knew is that you were a happy-go-lucky sweet girl. He didn't know why you did the things you do. Why you inject yourself, and why you are so predatory and ruthless when you basically hunt villains down. So, he asks you.

"Miguel?" He swipes all of his holographic screens away and turns off the rest of his devices, making a 180 to fully face you as you hop onto his platform. The smell of Empanadas wafted up his nose as you give three separate containers to him. "The cafeteria guy said he had extras, so I brought as many as he would let me for you. I know you don't eat much since you're really busy." His heart swells with affection as he coos at your sincere kindness, opening one to take his first bite. "Ohhh, querida, you didn't have to."(My dear)

You watch him place the rest on his desk and he finishes chewing to talk to you. "Thank you......So.....I wanted you to see me so that I can talk to you about how you handle the anomalies in other universes, and maybe even the regular villains in your own universe." You nod understandingly and Miguel had to ignore his increasing heartbeat at your eyes staring up at him.

"I'll be honest with you, amor. When groups are out to capture an anomaly, I usually don't have to monitor them because I have other people to do that for me. But Jessica and I sent you off on your own, knowing how much we can depend on you to carefully capture the anomaly with no troubles, which I know you don't. But, still, I take precautions and monitor you every now and then to make sure if you're alright or if you need any support. But when I see you through the my screens....you are....particularly rough with them. And it's more rough than the usual spider would be." You seem to know what he was talking about and advert your gaze, messing with your suit. (Love.)

"Y/n, you almost killed Green Goblin the other day." You purse your lips and nod in agreement. "Yes, I....."

You hesitate to speak. You didn't want anyone to know about your past. Did he have to know? You guessed so, since you are a part of a really big multiverse-saving company. It was so hard to escape Alchemax when they fucking tortured you every single day for their own pleasures. That stupid serum you can't live without? You stole enough to live for the next 3 years. And that's all you really needed. You took an Alchemax worker's apartment that you found deep in their records, knowing that if you fake your emails and his work, you could live in secret. You didn't want to live on like this forever. You knew that after those three years ended, then they ended. And you would follow.

Your only hope for the rest of your life is to live in secret and to help people as much as you can before you died. The serum just makes you a little.....violent. Just the way that the scientists liked it so that you could run on it for longer than usual. So, here you are. But how are you supposed to explain that to your boss?

"......Y/n?" He softly calls your name, concern etching his face as he reaches out to touch your hand. He almost didn't want to, not knowing how you felt about it. But when his finger very lightly grazed your warm and soft palm, you blinked back to life, grabbing his hand back. A breath entered his lungs and he seemed to be reborn at your sudden advancement to his touch.

".....Yes. I do have something to tell you." His eyebrows scrunch as he nods and pulls up a random chair to sit and wait for you to talk. You told him everything. About how you are an experiment on legs, how you were from Alchemax, and that they were the people that really owned you. And you being a spider-person is just you doing as much as you can for the city you loved so dearly. How you only had three or less years to live with the serums you had hidden in your home. How you literally don't care if you die anytime before that, and you're doing your part in life that doesn't make you as useless as you thought you were.

Miguel watched you say all of this. He watched your face. He watched how you....really didn't care. You were so calm about all of these life threats that you continuously had hovering over your head. You live life every day as if it was your last. What if someone burned your house down? What if Alchemax found you?? What would happen to you then?

"I can help you. Lyla." He almost seemed to work on autopilot. "Bring me documents of the chemical makeup of my own serum for me. While you're at it, turn all of the equipment in Floor 4's laboratory on for me." All of his tech equipment were back on again as he pulled his own serum, meant for next week, out of his drawer. "Miguel...?" "Y/n, can you bring me one of your own serums? I'll be in the lab when you come back. Find me on the fourth floor. Lyla can show you the way."

"Miguel!" He pauses and looks down at you. You shake your head as a shaky smile is brought to your face. "I don't need you to do this for me. I'm fine with the way things are." Miguel scrunches his face and steps towards you. "Qué? Te estás escuchando a ti mismo? Y/n, I don't want you to die. Nobody wants you to die. Y-you need to be here, No entiendes? Do you want to be a spider for the rest of your life, violently killing people the way you were taught? You can be given a regular life. A new life, here with me! You deserve more than just....being a machine. Because you're more than just a weapon. You're human."(What? Are you hearing yourself?)(Don't you understand?)

Miguel went too far with his speech. He said too much. Every word that continued to spill out of his lips dug him into a farther hole. You were crying, but it still didn't help the fact that you now know that he probably is infatuated with you. He tries to save face by saying more, but instead, his hand reaches out to wipe the tears off of your face. It couldn't possibly be real, the way you leaned into his touch. Your wet face touched his palm and he stuttered endlessly. Fuck, he had to get out of here.

"I'm sorry...I didn't mean to say that to you. It was unprofessional." You shake your head and lift your face out of his hands, staring up at him with those glistening eyelashes, your beautiful shiny eyes looking up at him. "No.....I'm glad you told me that. I.....thank you." He looks away bashfully and takes a step back....another....and then another until he walks off out of the cave to go down to the laboratory.

What is he going to do about you? He loves you too much to let you continue doing this horrible job. It was killing you.

Something feels off about this, but I am going to post it anyways because it's been bothering me like a collar tight around my neck all day. Needed this badly.

#yandere #yandere x you #reader #yandere x reader #yandere character #across the spiderverse #atsv #miguel 2099 #miguel fanfic #yandere miguel o'hara #yandere miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #miguel x reader

[thatmooncake]

HI I THINK YOU'RE VERY COOL PLEASE TALK ABOUT SUN AND MOON🌘☀️💙🌠 like!! Go crazy go stupid!!!

If you want some questions then here!! If they could eat/drink what would be their starbucks order? What would be their wormsona if they could design it 👀? What is your favorite part of them to draw 😊? Is there anything specifically that would make you go "they would not say that!!" in regards to dca 🤔🤔?

Don't feel pressured to answer any of this btw!!! You can completely ignore this 👌 And sorry if any of this came off as rude or patronizing 🙏🙇‍♂️

I love every ask like this btw now it’s crazy stupid time

If Sun and Moon could eat or drink they would eat your coffee cups the moment you’re not looking, they’d “confiscate” items only to hide them in a little space somewhere in their miserable room (they’d look so smug about taking them just to hide them for later), I think caffeine would make Moon a little loopy because I think Moon is a bit of a spider. Have you seen what happens to spiders on caffeine?

Like, this is Moon on caffeine, he’s made his web and now he has to lie in it.

I like to think if Sun could get hyped up on caffeine the effect would stick when they switched and Moon would not be happy about it.

I think if Sun could like a drink he would like those summery drinks like frappuccinos the most, I bet if he could drink caffeine he’d have an extreme response like either he’d be restless for DAYS or he’d unexpectedly short circuit and actually run out of energy. Maybe both.

(Like, that is the face of a playmate, right?)

Maybe one followed by the other.

Sun and Moon worm on a string would be stripey or starry perhaps:

I happily accept contributions, let’s share the joy of the worms.

Their expressions are the best no matter what. Other than that I think it’s gotta be the sunrays or the hat because they can be so expressive as well just based on how they’re placed or how they move. You can pry Moon with a prehensile hat from my cold dead fingers.

(There’s no limit to his capabilities - but perhaps there should be)

Another thing I love is Sun’s rays popping in and out to express his emotions.

And the ray spin - can’t forget the ray spin!

(They’re both such creatures)

They would not say …hm. I don’t think they would swear but it is funny to imagine the sorta thing that would bring them to do that, so I present you with this:

And have a nice day!

#fnaf #sundrop #moondrop #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #fnaf security breach #fnaf sb #fablesketches #fableasks #this is long but a lot of drawings in it #so have fun #and even though it seems in cohesive I hope you like #also sorry it took so long #tw spiders #maybe? #spider moon #fablethoughts

[lostgirlmuseum]

Stuck Together 🕸

Pairing: Bucky x f!reader

Summary: Bug Boy and Big Man get into an argument. Luckily, you’re there to save the day! Until you find yourself in a sticky situation. 

Words: 2.3k

A/N: A much lighter fic after the last one I posted to balance the scales. Please let me know if you like it!

Warnings: This is just silly.

(divider credit- @saradika)

“HELP ME, HELP ME, HELP ME—” Peter scrambled into the kitchen and slipped and slid over to the counter when he spotted you there.

“Peter? Woah, slow down!” He caught you off guard as you were about to start chopping some fruit for a smoothie you wanted to make. Your face scrunched as you tried to decipher what the sudden commotion was. For example, why was Peter running like his life depended on it, and why was he now hiding behind you and using your body as a shield?

“Save me, please! He’s going to kill me!” You continued to stare at his beet red face as his voice cracked pleas filled your ears.

“Who’s going to kill—” Your question, however, was abruptly cut off—but simultaneously answered—as Bucky Barnes came crashing into the room. If you thought Peter’s face was red, Bucky looked like he was on the verge of exploding.

“PARKER,” Bucky boomed, standing his ground by the table. His stance was open, ready to attack. The only thing keeping him from ripping Peter limb from limb was your (comparatively) feeble form.

“Hold on,” you started, “everyone just calm down,” but it was no use. Your attempts to diffuse the situation were no match for a pissed off Bucky and a scared shitless Peter.

“She can’t protect you, Parker.” Bucky pointed a finger directly over your right shoulder, where Peter was cowering and peeking over.

“GAHHHH!” Peter shrieked.

Your patience was dwindling. 

“Can someone tell me what happened?” 

As if on cue, both men—boys? The manchild and the child started spewing their sides of the story, distressed voices overlapping each other in a soup of overstimulation for your ears.

“One at a time!” You held your hands up for them to pause, to which they both surprisingly did. Feels good to be seen as an authority figure. “Bucky? What happened?”

Bucky huffed and struggled to take his piercing glare off of Peter.

“I was minding my own business in the gym when Bug-Boy decided to shoot my metal arm with his stupid web!”

You finally noticed the unusual pattern of white on Bucky’s metal arm as he held it out for you to see. Only then did you also notice the web was also all over the front of his white Henley (a color you didn’t even know he owned, but looked good in none-the-less).

Taking the moment of silence and inspection as a sign for his side of the story, Peter started his word vomit.

“It was an accident, you have to believe me!” He lightly shook your shoulders to get your attention, and you looked into his wide, earnest eyes. “I was beta testing these new web blasters I made, but something went wrong—maybe a transmitter went haywire, or a screw got loose—I don’t know, maybe it just needs some WD-40—”

“Peter, focus.”

“Right, anyway, I was aiming for a target I set up by the punching bags, but my web blasters went crazy and the web managed to fly 15 feet off and hit Sergeant Barnes.” His wild hands matched his wild hair as he finally took a breath.

“He’s forgetting to tell you the part where he made it worse and rubbed it! Into the plates! Of my arm! Now it’s stiff, and isn’t moving right!” You swiveled your head back to Bucky as he pointed at you this time.

“I was trying to help get it off you!” Peter yelped as he shrunk himself even smaller to be hidden behind your back.

“Boys, enough!” You shout.

Bucky freezes, and tenses as he directs his attention to you. Simultaneously, Peter slowly stands back up and faces you.

Both of them were being immature, however, you could understand both sides, but especially how Peter would run from Bucky. You decided to protect the kid first.

“Bucky,” you sighed, turning so your body directly faced him, “you don’t need to kill the kid. It was an accident.”

“An expensive accident.” He grumbled, his pouty face turning away slightly to avoid your disappointed gaze.

“And Peter,” you turned to face the kid, “maybe you need to be more careful when you’re testing new equipment. Maybe you should do it when no one else is in the training room. We both know this isn’t the first time something like this has happened.”

“I know.” Peter dejectedly glanced down at the marble floor.

“What about my arm?” Bucky spoke, once again holding it out for emphasis.

Deeming the situation to be safe enough, you stepped out of the way so you were no longer a human shield, and you could see both of them simultaneously. 

“Peter, how long does it take for the web to dissolve?” 

“I think like an hour…or two.” He fidgeted with his fingertips. 

“You don’t have anything that can speed up that process?” You crossed your arms like you often do when in ‘solution mode.’

“There’s a formula that breaks it down faster. But I ran out, I’d have to make some more.”

“How long would that be?” Bucky’s voice was no longer hostile, but back to his familiar grumpy tone.

“I can whip some up in fifteen minutes.” Peter offered with a nod.

“Why don’t you go ahead and make that?” You put your hand on Pete’s shoulder. “I’ll see what I can do now.”

“Okay. Okay, I’ll be back in a bit.” The flush finally left his face as he scurried off to the lab.

 “Can I see your arm?” You knew you had to be careful in asking. You felt strangely honored that he had trusted you, whether he realized it or not, to calm the situation between him and Peter. You didn’t want to scare him off by asking, but you also just wanted to help.

Luckily for you, he simply shrugged, emotion void from his face.

You gently approached him and instinctively grabbed his left palm with your right hand. You carefully inspected it, and noticed the webbing following the crevices of the gold along his hand. Awkwardly, you tried to pull away, but his hand followed yours. You lightly gasped. You knew it would be sticky, but neither of you realized how resolute it was, as you struggled to let go of his hand. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Bucky grumbled.

“Whoops.” You grimaced, fruitlessly attempting to separate your hands. After a moment of useless struggling, you sighed. “Let’s try this. On the count of three, we’ll both pull away with all of our strength. I’ll pull my way, you pull back your way.”

He nodded, but his furrowed brows suggested his doubt.

“One,” you backed away slightly from him to find your footing. “Two,” he leaned back and you both prepared to pull. “Three!”

It was certainly a sight, the two of you in the kitchen, holding hands as you both leaned in separate directions trying to leave the other. You both groaned with effort, but all it did was cause you some pain. After an eternity of pulling away from each other, adjusting stances, and more effort, Bucky stepped back a little too far, and managed to trip on the leg of a chair, sending him falling backwards…and you with him. 

“SHI-” 

Boom. 

His back was on the floor, and there you were, right on top of him. 

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” the words tumbled out of your lips as your hands quickly found purchase on the ground (well, your left palm was on the ground to the side of Bucky’s shoulder, but your right hand was still attached to his.)

“It’s fine,” he mumbled. 

But as you tried to push yourself up and off of him, there was an extra force–something other than gravity–keeping you to his chest. 

“Oh my god, it’s on your shirt too.”

You both looked down at the part of his chest that wasn’t snug with you, and noticed the mess of web.

“I’m going to kill him.” Bucky whispered.

“No, no killing.” It felt like a weird thing to say while hovering over Bucky, but it had to be said.

You both made eye contact for a second, before he quickly looked away to the side.

“I guess you’re a bottom.” 

“I’m a what?”

“Nothing. That was supposed to be my inside voice.” You chuckled. “We should try to get up.”

“Here, if I can get on top, I can probably get up.” He offered.

“Um, okay.” 

Bucky managed to somewhat easily roll to where his body was now over yours. He did a weird plank, and a series of awkward maneuvers. You inwardly cringed at how weird you both must look, on the kitchen ground, no less. Eventually, Bucky was able to get enough momentum to swing both of you back up to a standing position.

“Okay!” You cheered. “Now what?”

“Um. I haven’t thought that far ahead.” He scratched the back of his neck with his free hand. “How long did Parker say until he could get us the formula, or whatever the hell he’s getting?”

“Probably about ten minutes now.”

“This is just fantastic.” Bucky murmured, looking up in exasperation.

“Alright, cool it, no need giving me a complex.”

“What?”

“You’re acting like it’s the worst thing in the world to be stuck to me for a couple minutes.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to be close to you,” he started, but flushed when he saw your teasing face. “I mean, not that I want to be close to you—not in a way like I think you’re gross—because I don’t think you’re gross! If anything, I think you’re really nice—I mean that in a normal way.”

“Bucky, it’s fine,” you chuckle, “I’m messing with you. I know it’s not me, you like your personal space. I get it.”

“Uh-huh.” He bites his bottom lip and once again avoids your gaze.

“Hey, are you feeling okay? Your face has gone really… red. Are you having an allergic reaction or something?” You lift your unoccupied hand to his forehead, and place the back of it to his skin. 

“I’m fine, it’s fine.” He quickly deflects.

“I don’t know Buck, it—”

“PETER!” He yells, and begins to rush for the lab, dragging you along with him in an awkward shuffle. 

“Bucky! Slow down, for god’s sake—”

“PETER PARKER!”

Bucky had never wanted to see the kid’s face so bad. 

By the time the two of you reached the lab, you had given up protesting. 

“I’m almost done, Sergeant Sir! I swear it!” Peter had noticed the close proximity of you and Bucky (how could he not?) but he knew better than to comment on it. Besides, he was busy fighting for his life. 

“What’s all this yell—” Tony nearly burst out laughing once he walked into the lab and saw not only how close you and Bucky were, but the sheepish look on the normally tough guy's face. “Well. Looks like you two have gotten very close.”

Bucky’s face flushed even harder. 

“You’re even holding hands! Aw, that’s sweet.” Tony continued.

Bucky took the opportunity to try and hide behind you by turning so that your back was facing the lab doors, although it seems he forgot how much bigger he is than you, his form peeking out behind yours. Looks like everyone was using you as a shield today.

“I wonder where he went,” Tony mocked.

“Tony,” you turned your head over your shoulder to see him as best you could, “leave him alone.”

“Okay, okay.” He laughed. He lasted five seconds before opening his mouth again. “I can’t help myself, it’s so obvious he—”

“Done!” Peter interrupted, holding up a beaker filled with a translucent light blue liquid.

“Thank God, kid.” Bucky gasped.

“Was this your doing, Peter? Well done.” Tony quipped one more time.

Peter didn’t answer, just gave an awkward smile, and poured the liquid onto a cloth.

“This isn’t going to stain my shirt, right?” You asked.

“No, don’t worry.” Peter said, wiping the cloth over where yours and Bucky’s hands connected. 

Within seconds the web dissolved, and you were able to remove your hand. You grabbed the cloth from Peter and started wiping where your shirt stuck to Bucky’s, carefully avoiding actually touching his chest. You both sighed once you stepped back from each other.

“Bye.” He quickly said, and turned on his heel to rush out.

“Bucky, wait!” You called.

He quickly turned back, a question in his eyes. 

“Your arm, remember? The web is still stuck in the plates?”

“Oh. Yes.” He turned back to you and grabbed the cloth, and for good measure, the beaker Peter had in his hands too. “Bye.”

Tony quirked a brow as Bucky brushed past, and out the doors.

“He’s in a hurry.” Tony said.

“Yeah, to get away from me,” you sighed, looking at the hand that had held his only a minute ago.

You wonder what you did to make him so revolted by you.

Little do you know, at that very moment, Bucky is resisting every urge to run back to you.

--------

A/N: Thanks for reading, please let me know your thoughts if you’re comfortable! I’m thinking about maybe making a part two, if anyone is interested. I hope you have a wonderful day/night!

UPDATE: Part 2 is now up!

#bucky fic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky x y/n #bucky fluff

[xan-izme]

Dubble Life (ACTSV x reader x Batfam) 4

Summary: Reader made a promise to never let Spider-Woman out. Knowing the dangers of putting that mask on. Reader is starting off fresh now, and they will be damned if anyone tries to have you pull that mask down your face again.

Part 3 Part 5

TW: break downs, mentions of past trauma, mentions of mental health

"Just listen to me!" Gwen was following you as you were still franticly searching for Damian.

"Bug off Gwen. Don't need the society's shit right now." You spoke harshly. Gwen sighed as she watched your stressed expression switch between worry and frustration.

Gwen stopped and spoke. "I know your probably still hurting. But New York needs Spider Woman. Your uncle and Miles can't hold Brooklyn down forever." You paused and turned your head to the blonde.

"More anomalies are showing up. The Prowlers aren't fit to control them. If this keeps up, who knows what will happen." Gwen was staring at you with those big blue eyes of her's.

You always used to like looking into Gwen's eyes. Her eyes always held this kind of sadness in them, sadness you and her connected with. But no, you see no connection. At least not the same as before.

". . .I'm sorry Gwendy. But I don't have time for this."

You made sure the coast was clear before shooting a web to a nearby building and land in an alleyway.

After nearly two hours of searching for Damian and nearly having a break down. Alfred was able to find you and inform you that Damian was safe and was currently with Bruce. Damian had wanted to stay with Bruce. And you decided to go back to the manor.

"Don't do that again Damian. You can't just leave your sister like that." Bruce scolded his son for making you worry. Knowing you must have been freaking out with the way he had disappeared. Damian sighed.

"If she's cross with me, then I'll tell her I went back for this." Damian lifted up an album. Bruce frowns in confusion. Because how the hell is a Boney M album going to calm you down?

"Lady Y/n. Is there anything you need before-"

"No Alfred! I just need some rest; I'll be in my room." You rushed up the stairs. And slammed your room door.

You finally took a seat on your bed. A second passed, and your breathing started to pick up, a minute passed, and your eyes began to sting from the incoming tears that seem to build up until your eyes couldn't hold them any longer, letting the tear drops fall.

It wasn't long till you became a sobbing mess.

it was too much. Emotions you didn't know were still in you started to burst out of control. You were a crying mess.

Why?

Were you stressed?

Or is it that you miss your family back in New York?

Were you upset seeing Gwen? Was seeing her bring back memories that you didn't want to see? Memories of people you don't want to remember?

No. . . that's not it, is it.

It was what happened with Damian. How he let your hand go, and just disappeared. It's funny, you don't really like the boy. Well, his attuited is what you distaste the most. But you were crying, because you thought you almost lost him.

You were scared you almost let someone who was your blood, your kin, die.

What a silly thought. Don't be thinking these things. Suck it up, you keep doing this and let these feelings show to the family. They won't be happy. If they aren't happy because you're not happy. You'll ruin the mood.

So, suck it up, you thought to yourself. Forget those silly thoughts, forget that knot you feel in your chest. Because your Y/n Morals- . . . Wayne. Y/n Wayne.

And this family, this manor. Is your fresh start. Your new beginning. And in order to make sure this new life of yours is to keep them safe. Make sure Spider-woman is never involved in their lives. Make sure they live.

Hours passed. There was no dinner time tonight. Which you were thankful for. You washed up and got yourself ready for bed.

Your phone began to ring. You stared at the contact number.

Miles👾

You took in a shaky breath and answered the call.

"Hey. . .you good?"

You smiled in relief from hearing your cousins voice.

"Yea. . . did you need something? Is Tia Rio, okay?" You questioned. Worried by the way Miles spoke.

"No- I mean yes! yes Mami's alright, It just . . ."

Your eyes squint, getting curies, and a little worried as to what was the matter.

"Just what?" Your voice seemed to have snapped Miles out of whatever train of thought he had.

"One of those people, a woman. Jess, she said her name was. She stopped by here. Saying she had a package for you."

You felt your heart stop for a second. Why the hell was Jess there.?

"A-and I heard her talking to dad. She claimed she was a doctor you and your mom used to go to. Sis, she was saying some shit bout you being mentally ill. And it looks like Dad and Mami bought it."

You began cussing at whatever caused this to happen.

"I just wanted to give you a heads up. Mami's going to drop off the package tomorrow at noon. She'll most likely bring it up to Bruce."

You sighed. You can handle this. You just have to observe, be patent and don't jump too early. Make sure to make the right moves. One wrong move, especially in front of Tia Rio. It's game over.

"Thanks bro. Goodnight, love you." You say as you lean on your desk. Your posture made it clear that you were absolutely exhausted for the day.

"Love you too. Good luck."

Miles hung up and you were once again alone with the silence in your room. You grabbed a CD and popped it in the CD player. You had to keep yourself distracted.

You needed to be distant from those silly thoughts. But don't float away now, you have to plan on how things are going to be tomorrow.

You want to jump and go straight into why in the hell did Jessica Drew go to Miles's house. A place you had made clear was off limits. You had informed Jess and Peter B that the places where your family is, are off-limits. Meaning Uncle Aarons apartment, Miles's apartment and the Wayne Manor in Gotham.

But for now, focus on the challenges that are in front of you now.

The next day came around. Damian had apologized and gave you a album as an apology.

You ended up forcing him to watch a horrible rom com just to get something out of it. And you did.

"That was stupid, and I'm never doing this again."

You laughed at Damian's words. The boy was truly fun to watch. A second past before you two heard a knock. You both look at the doorway to see Alfred.

"Lady Y/n. Your aunt is here to see you." The man said.

You began to mentally prepare yourself as you stood up and walked off to your room, that was where Alfred led Rio to wait for you.

As Rio was waiting for you. She took a look at your room. Your books were organized on the bookshelf. Pictures of you and Miles when you two were younger on the walls. One picture was on your nightstand. It was of her sister, your mother.

Rio didn't know you were seeing a therapist. Well, after what happened with that friend of yours a few years back. You did need it.

You just seemed so happy, even after that incident. But Rio now knows that you were only so happy because of your mother. After she died, Rio hasn't heard your laugh in a while.

The door to your room opened. You smiled, walking towards Rio with a smile.

Rio hugged you tight. She pulled away and saw how tired you look. She cups your face in worry.

"Oh, my baby. You look tired, have you been sleeping? Are you eating well? How about Bruce? Is he being good to you? I sware if he is not-" You chuckled and held both of her hands and kept them close to you.

"I'm okay, Bruce is nice. He's been spoiling me actually."

Rio calmed down and nods "And sleep? Hija mía, parece que no has dormido."

"Ah, I fell behind my studies last week and have been working to catch up. Don't worry I'm good now. My grades are safe!"

Rio smiled and sighed in relief. "I came here to drop this off. Your Therapist, Mrs. Drew?" Rio took out a box that was a size of a jewelry box. You took it and set it down on your nightstand.

"Honey is-. . ." You waited for what Rio was going to say. Was she going to ask about that 'theripist' of yours? Whatever Jess said, it seems to have made Rio upset.

"Is Bruce here? I need to speak to him."

You sighed and shook your head "Sorry, he's still at work." Rio nods and just smiled again as she gave your hand a squeeze before letting go. You and Rio went downstairs so you could walk her to her car.

"Oh! I almost forgot to tell you. Your uncle has got a new position now. He's going to be captain!" Rio smiled widely as she told you news.

You smiled and grabbed her hand. You kissed the back of her hand gave it a tight squeeze "Thats amazing"

You were spacing out. It looked like you were staring at something but thinking of nothing. But you were thinking of a lot of things. You wanted to live peacefully. Is that selfish?

Being Spider-Woman was amazing. You felt strong, felt like you could overcome anything that came your way. And protect loved ones made you feel safe. Knowing that you could protect them, made you feel safe.

But after your mother. After finding out the truth from Miguel. You didn't feel safe, you no longer felt like you could keep your loved ones or anyone around you safe. Not when you have that mask on.

So, you gave up the mask, made sure that without a Spider woman in your universe, things wouldn't go to hell. But every time, every time you thought things were okay, thought that everyone was safe from Spider Woman. The society keeps coming to ruin it. You had to find a way to stop them.

"Y/n? Hello?"

You snapped out of your train of thought. "Huh? Oh, sorry Damian, what were you saying?" You leaned in on your palm and gave your brother a smile.

"Movie. I'm bored." The boy bluntly said. You paused and began to process what he said. You smiled warmly and walked with Damian to the screen room.

You swear to all the gods, you won't let the mask take what you have left.

#atsv x reader #miles morales #miguel o'hara #mental health #gwen spiderverse #batfam x batsis #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #x daughter!reader #damian wayne #dick grayson #rio morales #alfred pennyworth #slight angst

[exhaslo]

Corruption Ch6

(Villain!Miguel x F!Hero!Reader)

Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4, Ch5

Warning: Minors DNI, smut, mentions of sex, violence, blood, murder, twisted thoughts, experimentation, language, wannabe fluff, established friendship?

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

Four months, eight days until D-Day

Miguel was quiet as he watched his experiment think he was top shit. It was almost amusing to think that the idiot took Miguel for a fool. Miguel knew this place like the back of his hand. He was going to release a poisonous gas that only he was immune too.

Hopefully his feral experiment was immune too.

Everyone else could perish, everyone but you. Miguel grunted lowly as he willingly approached his metal table. You were the only one that Miguel needed to save. Just recalling you in danger stirred unknown feelings inside of him.

"Not a single soul to help you. Seems like I won't be the only one enjoying your death."

"Not true!"

Miguel raised a brow since his finger was right on the button to release the gas. His eyes widen as Spider-Woman came crashing in, kicking his experiment to the side. How did you get here? Miguel was in awe. This had to be fate.

"Everyone, leave now!" You yelled, opening the doors.

"How did you get here?" Miguel asked, approaching you. You grabbed his arms, checking him for injuries,

"Your assistant called me." Was all you said and smiled in relief, "No injuries, so I made it in time."

"I'm going to have to reward (Y/N) later," Miguel chuckled. You grabbed his attention once more as the prisoner roared out,

"Get out of here!"

Oh, that was the last thing Miguel was going to do. He was up close and personal to you in the middle of a fight. Miguel stayed a good distance away as he watched you dance around his experiment. Your movements were so fluid, just like a spider.

Your agility was fascinating and from what Miguel saw, you had some kind of danger sense. You kicked and punched the prisoner, revealing your strength to be much higher than an average human. Everything about you had Miguel head over heels.

He needed you.

He wanted you.

Miguel had to hold his breathe as you webbed up his experiment to the wall. He had to know if those were organic or not. Miguel had so many questions for you. He needed to have you strapped up on his table. Miguel needed to be like you.

"Phew, that should hold him for now. Um, what are you planning on doing with him?" You asked. Miguel approached you,

"Forget about him, I have so many questions for you. Please, stay and answer them for me-"

"You were almost killed, Miguel. You need to worry about...him," You stressed out, glancing at the prisoner.

Miguel's lips twitched into a smirk. How his name rolled off your lips nicely. Had he told you his name? No, it didn't matter since he was famous. Everyone knew him.

"But you did save me, so can't you stay and answer a few questions?" Miguel asked sweetly, holding your hand.

Miguel watched as you hesitated and bit your lower lip. There was a sparkle in his eyes since your hand almost held his back. With a slow withdraw, you took a step back and looked away from him, apologizing before dashing off.

"Lyla," Miguel whispered as security came rushing in to remove the prisoner.

"Yes, sir?"

"Tell (Y/N) to meet me at my office."

What a great day. Miguel could hardly hold back his laughter. How perfect could this be? Spider-Woman was right by his side this whole time! The fact that you were trying so hard to keep this secret from him was adorable; however, you could not deny your feelings for him.

As much as Miguel wanted to confront you for lying to him, he couldn't help but want to play this game out longer. Miguel was going to corrupt you into being his. Little by little he was going to figure out how you became this hero, without you even knowing that he knows.

--------

You hurried to Miguel's office, wanting to check on him as you. It frustrated you how much of an obsessed maniac he was. Miguel could have been killed, but he was far more interested in Spider-Woman! Does he not care about himself?

"Miguel?" You knocked, slowly entering his office.

"(Y/N), are you alright?" Miguel asked you, his tone full of concern, "I understand everything must have been a blur to you-"

"I-I'm more worried about you!" You huffed, tears threatening to spill as Miguel towered before you, "P-Please...worry about yourself too,"

"Such a big heart," Miguel hummed, rubbing your head, "I should be thanking you for sending help. I was not expecting you to get Spider-Woman so fast."

"O-Oh, um...I panicked and screamed for her," You lied, enjoying the head pats he was giving you, "I was so scared for you. Miguel, don't you see how dangerous this is?"

"Hm, for a moment," He replied, his hand stroking your cheek now, "I did feel irritation when you were in danger, but (Y/N), imagine if you had the abilities to overpower him?"

"I don't want to experience this again, Miguel." You whispered.

You closed your eyes, enjoying his warmth as he comforted you. This was a first and most likely the last time you'll experience this. Miguel was never this affectionate. It was so relaxing. This was something you needed.

"Don't worry, (Y/N), I'll make sure you don't." Miguel hummed.

---------

You were putty in his hands. If only Miguel could just keep you to himself right now. No, he needed to have his fun. Moving his hand away from your cheek, Miguel resisted a chuckle as you opened your eyes. Your lips parted slightly, almost desperate for attention.

"Now, I do believe I deserve a reward for saving you." His smirk returned, "What do you think warrants such an action?"

"Hm? A proper massage?" You asked with a smile. Miguel chuckled as he grabbed your hand, leading you to his couch,

"That, and more spider research. Now that we have a success, I must find out what makes him different!"

"But, Miguel...do you really call that a success?" You asked.

Miguel grunted as you started to press against his shoulder blades. The irony of this. The mad scientist getting a massage from the one and only Spider-Woman. How far can he go? How long will it take to twist your little mind?

"Of course. Whatever step forward to creating the perfect human."

"Okaaay,"

Miguel could hear the discomfort in your tone. Your ideals never truly matched with his, but that can change. Miguel didn't need you to see eye to eye. He just needed you broken enough to agree to everything he said and wanted.

Planting his head against your lap, Miguel closed his eyes to your touch. He could feel you tremble. To think that someone as frail as you became Spider-Woman. As eager as Miguel was to know how, he needed to take his time.

You were his, after all.

Miguel was going to keep giving you these small displays of affection until you gave him what he wanted; however, he still wanted his information.

"(Y/N)," Miguel muttered as you massaged his head, "Next month we'll be doing health examinations for everyone at Alchemax."

"Next month? Isn't that soon?"

"Need to give the idiots downstairs motivation." Miguel grunted, adjusting his head to make you squeak, "A little Rapture here and there will do the trick."

"But-"

"Since you're my personal assistant, I'll be conducting your full body health examination."

"F-Full body?!" You gasped. Miguel opened his eyes, lazily staring at your beet red expression,

"Who better than I? Or are you saying I can't even perform what meager doctors can do?" He asked with a scoff. You shuddered slightly,

"N-No, I mean...Are you sure it won't be...inappropriate?"

"No."

Yes. Miguel knew damn well he was crossing some lines, but fuck it. This was the perfect excuse to get your blood and some other information. So what if he was going to see you naked, not like it wasn't part of your wildest fantasies.

"It's just a health examination. Unless you want it to be more-"

"No! N-No! It's fine!" You panicked, "I just...will need time to prepare."

"I can give you a relaxing sedative if need be," Miguel sighed as he sat up, glancing at you.

"Please,"

This was too easy. Miguel gave you a fake smile before patting your head again. He had a month to tease, charm and flirt with you until he could get his information. A month to start tainting your innocent soul with his corrupted villainous one.

"Go home, you deserve the rest of the day off."

"Thank you, Miguel." You whispered and dashed off.

Miguel watched you scurry off, chuckling darkly. How delicious. This was going to be fun. Summoning Lyla, Miguel leaned back in his couch, relaxed after your massage.

"I want you to hack into all of (Y/N)'s tech,"

"How naughty~" Lyla giggled, pulling up screens, revealing all of your technology that Lyla had access too, "Going to watch her cry your name when she masturbates?"

"All in the name of research. Since my dear (Y/N) is playing a dangerous game, I must be the one to make sure she takes care of herself. Can't have my precious trophy get hurt."

"You know she is madly in love with you, so why don't you just tell her what she wants to hear?"

"(Y/N) maybe dumb when it comes to my work, but she is smart. I didn't hire her for nothing. Just trust in me."

"Of course, sir. Speaking of trust, you have that meeting with your business partners with your father in two hours."

"Ah, maybe I shouldn't have sent (Y/N) home just yet."

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Next Chapter

@tojishugetiddies @miguelsfavwife @foulsharkheart @club-danger-zone @ivkygirly @jollystrawberrycycle @amber-content @weirdothatwritess @smartyren @mangoslushcrush @nyxzoldyck6 @migueloharastruelove @chaoticlovingdreamer @sukioyakio @killjoy-nightshadow @heyohalie @the-pan-liquid @bokutosprettylittlebimbo @kpopscoups17130000 @pochapo @killerwendigo @barbiecrocs @miss-galaxy-turtle @oscarissac2099 @lazy-idate @lauraolar14 @migueloharacumslut @straw-berry-ghoul @daisy-artfield @sukunash0e @undf-stuff @iamperson12280 @nightingale1011 @reader-1290 @mcmiracles

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #miguel x y/n #miguel x you #miguel x reader

[persephone11110]

A Web Of Lies | J. Seresin

warnings: past physical abuse, past domestic violence-> old traditional views of how women are supposed to be,victim blaming—self victim blaming, hurt/comfort, protective jake seresin, mentions of throwing up and being on your period, oc death-> mentions of alcohol abuse and car accident

summary:“Y/n sometimes it best if women are seen and not heard,sometimes its best if you just take the hits and don’t react”. Mama tells you while holding an icepack to her swollen eye.

AN: do i need therapy or do i need keep writing oc’s with childhood trauma?

ocs: Betty L/n, Harry L/n, Darren

—

THIS STORY IS ABOUT DOMESTIC VIOLENCE AND GENERATIONAL TRAUMA AND MISOGYNISTIC SOCIETIAL VIEWS SO PLEASE BE CAREFUL

—

Women are seen not heard.

It’s a phrase you learned as a little girl, it’s an assumption youv’e lived by for awhile, taking it in consideration when saw your dad first hit your mom, when Darren first slapped you. Its always the women fault— it can never be the man fault.

You didn’t learn this lesson until your eight years old, when your father facade cripples quickly. Before this happened he was sweet to you, always calling you his princess, having tea parties with you—throwing you over his shoulder.

His laughter was loud and clear , just like yours until it isn’t. Your dad is everything a man is supposed to be until he isn’t. The loudness that once meant happiness turns into—loud agressive shouting, when it’s him and mama alone together.

Well they think their alone together. Your wandering down the staircase to see were he went as he promised to read you the cinderella story again—like he did most nights, reading to you until your snores filled the room.

They’re fighting again which isn’t surprising to say the least. Your parents always argued whether it was in hushed tones or it was so loud that your neighbors next door would come over and make sure everything was fine.

“Betty it wouldn’t be like this if you just made me happy!”,his voice booms, bouncing off the walls. He doesn’t look like he usually does, his hair was messy opposed to the gel back look he normally wore, his clothes has stains on it- something that was unheard of until tonight.

You swear mama not breathing after you watched daddy ball his fist up, striking her across the face. The cracking sound echoes throughout the living room, mama on the ground holding the right side of her face.

You go to open your mouth, worried for your mama. But before you can your nanny Louisa gently wraps her hand around your mouth. “Shh little one, lets get to bed–theres school remember”. Louisa picks you up and you lean your head on her shoulder, leaving your mama bleeding on the cold floor alone.

It makes mama stop arguing with daddy, his combat boots were heavy aganist the floor as he leaves through the front door— using all his strength to slame it.

In the morning you notice how quiet mama is, how red and swollen her face is. “Louisa taking you to school today Y/n” her voice is small and soft.

“Mama why did daddy hit you?”. She almost drops the kettle onto the ground, mama didn’t know you were there watching the vicious scene unfold.

Thats the day your mama infamous words get stuck in your head,“Sometimes mama makes daddy mad, sometimes women must be seen and not heard”.

It words that stay with Y/n for over an decade.

—

Circa of 2002

Your in your junior year of college when the lesson your mom taught you is sitting in the back of your mind.

Just take the hit Y/n, it makes life easier.

Your relationship with Darren is so fresh, yet your already mimicking how your mom acts around your dad. Your already walking on eggshells with him, he already rolls his eyes when you forget to give him the answers to the psychologyhomework—it meant your walking on thin line of his frustration.

Sometimes you think you deserve the bruises that riddle your body, how many times have you forgotten to call him back, when he tells you to. Sometimes he’s annoyed with how much you move in your sleep, “I can’t sleep Y/n if you move so much”.

Your relationship with Darren was the true epitome of Opposite Attracts. Like today you got excited telling Darren about the release of the book Coraline. You remembered him reminding you to calm down, him telling you didn’t care about his day.

Or when your on your period and he insists that your fine, and how you had the tendency to overreact when it came to your pain. How he’s sighs when your own the ground cleaning up your throw up as the cramps had gotten worse. Telling you its 2AM in the morning and he’s desperately trying to sleep, and now he can’t.

The guilt eats away at you for days, now when you get your period you slept on the bathroom floor.

You don’t have friends anymore, as Darren had grown controlling of your social life. “Am I not enough for you, Y/n?”. Your friends grow tired of seeing you so bruised, they grow tired of trying to help someone who didn’t want the help. Its just you and Darren now–at least he didn’t grow tired of you.

It took ten years for you to leave, your about two years into your nursing job. Your a hypocrite, as you stood infront of a woman in a coma, her husband had beaten to her within an inch of her life and the only chance she had at living was a medical induced coma.

Here you were holding her hand telling her it wasn’t her fault. “Sometimes we believe we don’t deserve better and we believe there is no one out there who will ‘love’ us”. You sighed, lifting one hand to wipe away your tears.

You left him-leaving the state and finding a job all the way in Miramar, California—changing your cell number and email. A phone call from your mother makes you almost burst out laughing,“Y/n I’m so sorry for your loss sweetheart he was such a nice boy”. Darren drinking habit has gotten worse, he managed to flip his car over on its side. You didn’t feel like telling her about the break up - there was no use anway, as she’ll tell you to beg for his love again, like all the other times.

Present

You sitting across from Jake, staring at him waiting for him to tell you how much you suck at cooking. Waiting for him to pick up the dish and chuck it over your head—listening to him pop open another beer, the plate and flood sliding down the wall.

It doesnt come, its never going to.

Jake gives you a soft smile, and he reaches for your hand to hold it, as he eats.“God damn darlin, you put your entire foot in it”.

“Thank you Jake”, You push your chair back, moving to collect his dish. He softly grips your hand, stopping you from moving.

“Darlin I have legs—finish your food first”. He drops a kiss onto your head before walking to the kitchen. His southern drawl thicker than usual.

Darren did always say you were stubborn. You were standing infront of the sink washing all the dishes that had been used for dinner. Despite Jake telling you didn’t have to.

“Y/n is cleaning so hard for you?”.

“Is it so hard for my girlfriend to clean up after herself?”, your holding a cold beer to your swollen face.

“Darlin, no”. Jake wraps his arms around you not caring about your wet clothes. “Let me do it Y/n”. He gently pushes you into the kitchen chair.

Jake doing the dishes right now.

Something your dad wouldn’t dare do for your mom,“Betty I’m tired the least my wife can do is clean up for me”. Darren wouldn’t neither—“Goodnight Y/n, or I’m watching the game”, leaving you in the dark kitchen alone.

Jake Seresin isn’t them, Jake isn’t the man you’ve spent majority of your life scared of. It’s takes time for you believe that, it takes time for you to believe his words,“I will never lay a hand on you Y/n”.

It took some time but staring at him washing the dishes singing along with Beyoncé you start to believe him. You know for certain that Jacob Grant Seresin is not like them—he can’t be.

#top gun #top gun maverick #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader

[zeltqz]

𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒 [𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐃] TWO

|you and ran catch up a little in more ways than one.

pairing. ex!ran x fem!reader

series synopsis. bonten is forming and in the midst of it all, you find yourself caught in the sticky webs of your ex boyfriend and current bonten executive, haitani ran.

length. 7.2k words

A/N: thanks for all the sweet comments you all left me under ch1. they were so positive i love u all :(((( made my whole week

With a world heavy sigh, you turned to look at him again. The first thing you noticed was he was attractive. His sharp jawline caught your attention first, his tattoo next. Then you met his eyes. Those goddamn eyes that no amount of alcohol could make you forget. You blinked for a couple moments, the movement slow as you tried to regain control over your muscles. “No way.”

“Yes way,” he responded, tilting his head as he watched you blink life back to your eyes, amused with the way you rubbed your eyes with the heel of your palm. “Careful. You’re gonna dig your eyes out.” He gently held onto your wrists, removing them from your half blood shot eyes.

“No wait, stop.” You shrugged your hand out from his grip,almost stumbling over your feet as you stood up abruptly, taking multiple steps back to contemplate what the fuck is going on today. Obviously you expected to run into a couple of old friends eventually, but you thought that’d take months, weeks at best. Now you managed to meet at least three already in a span of two weeks. “How did you find me? Are you stalking me? Why are you here? What is going on—”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I was here on business and saw you with Mira earlier at the table. I wanted to talk to you before but wanted to wait for the right time.”

“Oh.” You felt the slight panic inside you slowly ease out as your shoulders slumped downwards. “Okay. That’s cool. I guess.”

“Sit down.” He grabbed your wrist and gently eased you back towards the staircase. You almost tripped again when you sat down, the alcohol making your legs inoperative. “I missed you, you know? How’ve you been?”

“Honest answer?” You looked at him and he nodded. “Not so great. But it’s whatever. I’ll get over it. And I missed you too," you admitted, meekly.

Ran tilted his head and looked at you, resting his weight on his left arm. He took a moment to trace your side profile, desperately wanting to go lower but given the fact you were bouncing your knee restlessly, he knew now wasn’t the time. “You good? You look stressed.”

“I’m not, I promise,” you responded, unable to look him in the eye despite feeling his gaze on you. Everything is too overwhelming right now. Regarding that list of people you desperately wanted to avoid, Ran was a solid number 1. You can’t bring yourself to look at him without the prickle of tears springing in your eyes. You sniffle quietly and turn your face away, covering your mouth with your hand. 

“Are you crying?” he asked, leaning more forward to get a better look at you but you stubbornly turned away, mumbling you’re fine as you wiped at your face with your sleeves. 

He sighed heavily and shifted towards you. You stiffened when you felt his arm wrap around your arm. “C’mere,” he said, pulling you towards him. Reluctantly, you allowed him to pull him closer. He rested his chin on top of your head, wrapping his arms around your side as you sniffed and wiped your face. “Come on, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“It’s just…being back is messing with my head. And everyone is in my face and there’s so much going on and I feel I haven’t had a chance to just breathe since I came back.” He handed you a tissue from his suit pocket and you thanked him, sniffling again as you wiped your nose and face. 

“When did you come back?” he asked and you felt his chin move atop your head when he spoke. 

“Two weeks ago.”

“Wow. So you really left the country for eight years? No wonder I couldn’t contact you.”

“I doubt even if I stayed we would be in contact either,” you responded quietly, slowly pushing out of his grip to sit back at a reasonable distance on the staircase. 

“You’re still mad at me about that?”

You stared at him for a long moment before shaking your head. “I’m not doing this right now.” You stood up and he watched as you walked over to the door to unlock it but the door remained locked ever since Ran moved his foot. 

“It’s locked,” he stated the obvious, making you stop and slowly turn around.

“No really? I didn’t fucking notice.”

“You’re taking your anger out on the wrong person.”

You shoved your hands into your coat pocket and zipped it up, walking back over to the stairs to grab your bag. “I’m walking home.” 

“Like hell you are. Let me drive you home. You’re drunk.”

“I don’t need your help. I’m fine. Don’t touch me.” You pushed his arm off you.

“I’ll call you a taxi then.” Ran stood up and reached for his phone. When you tried to walk away again, he reached out, arm curling around your waist to tug you back to his side. You were squirming as he was dialling the number of one of his drivers. “Yeah I’m around the back. You got two minutes.” He hung up the phone with those simple words. “Come here, he’ll be soon.”

“What kind of taxi comes in two minutes?” you argued, trying to release his grip from your arm as he was walking you towards the backroad. 

“Don’t worry your pretty head about the details.” He turned around and booped your nose. You scowled up at him as the driver pulled in. The car was shiny and black, a guy with a bald head and thick black sunglasses on his head driving the front seat.

“You must think I’m a fool if you think I’m getting in that car.” You finally ripped your hand from his grip and scowled up at him, arms crossed over your chest. 

“Why not?”

“Because…he looks shady. I don’t trust it.”

He lifted your head up by your chin and stepped a little closer to you. “Do you trust me?” he asked with a low voice and you felt the rumble of his voice stir low within your belly.

“I…no—I don’t know.”

His grip on your chin tightened a bit. “Yes or no.”

As scary as Ran looks now, part of you still feels safe around him. Never once in your life has he ever made you feel unsafe. You swallowed and slowly nodded your head. “Yes. I do.”

“Good.” He held your face between both hands and planted a kiss on your forehead. “Now get in the car and tell him your address.” When you still looked hesitant, sweeping your eyes back and forth between Ran and the driver, he continued. “He works for me and won’t even dare to hurt you. He knows what’s on the line if he does. I promise.”

Your eyes trace his face, looking up at him through your eyelashes. He was standing so close you could kiss him, you could wrap yourself in his arms and slide your hands through his hair and take him in the backseat of his car. But you had restraint, the sober part of your mind whispered to take your ass in that car and go home. 

You backed away and slowly entered the car, shifting to the end and rested your head on the window. Ran walked up to his driver and knocked on the window. The tinted window rolled down and Ran rested his arms against the open window, gesturing for the driver to come closer. 

“Take her home and you don’t take your eyes off her until she gets inside. If something happens to her," he leaned in to whisper his threat into his ear and you watched as the driver stiffened momentarily before catching himself, readjusting his glasses on his head and nodded.

"Yes, sir. I understand."

Ran smiled cooly, patting his shoulder. "Good to know." 

Ran walked over to your side of the window and you blinked wearily at him, going in and out of consciousness as you started to feel sleepy. “What did you tell him?” you asked, voice slurring a bit.

“Don't worry about it. Get home safe, okay?" His sweet smile and those mesmerising eyes made your heart flutter. You'd blame it on the alcohol later, but right now you nodded silently and rolled the window back up as the car began to drive away.

"Where do you live?" the driver asked hesitantly, not taking his eyes off the road as you tried to meet his gaze through the rear view mirror. You tell him your brother's address and the two of you continue the drive in silence.

"So, how do you know Ran?" you asked the driver, frowning when he stayed silent. "Did you hear me?" 

He glanced at you briefly before turning back to the road. You frowned and sulked back in the seats. "Fine, ignore me then."

"Don't sulk like that," he said after a moment, sighing shortly and clearing his throat. "It's just...Haitani doesn't want me talking to you."

You sat up. "Why not?"

"If he found out I was talking to you, he'd probably kill me," he laughed awkwardly and you snorted, shaking your head.

"He's bluffing. He wouldn't actually do that."

The driver stayed silent and you turned your attention back to the scenery outside the window. A dark thought struck you and you furrowed your brow. "What's your name?" you asked but he stayed silent again. "Ran isn't here. You don't have to be scared of him. Besides, I won't tell him. Not like I'm gonna see him again anymore."

"Why not?" he asked curiously.

"I have no business talking to him. He's like an itch that needed to be scratched a long time ago."

"If you don't mind me asking, what is your business with Mr.Haitani?"

You fidgeted in the seat a little and he noticed. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I'm just...curious."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "He seems protective over you. It's weird. I've never seen anything like that."

"He doesn't care about me," you said softly, almost to yourself. 

The driver fell quiet again. The tension filled the air between the two of you and the only sound filling the space was the hum of the engine. "Well if you say so. But your relationship with him? What is it?"

"I'm his ex," you answered bluntly and the driver blinked, lips parted slightly.

"Makes sense," he responded before parking outside your brother's house.

"Thanks for the ride," you responded, sliding out of the car. You waited for him to drive off but he didn't move. "Uh, you can go now."

The driver shook his head. "Mr.Haitani said I should wait until you get in before I leave."

You rolled your eyes. "Of course he fucking did." You slammed the door shut and walked inside your house, watching from the peephole as the driver stayed stationary for a couple of minutes before driving away. "Fucking weirdos," you thought to yourself.

~*~

"Good fucking news!" Your brother shouted excitedly when he burst through your bedroom. He opened the curtains, exposing sunlight directly into your face. You hissed and stirred on the bed, lifting your sheets to shield your face from the sun.

"Leave me alone," you grumbled groggily, fighting the urge to kick your brother when he lifted your sheets off your body. "What is it?" you groaned, rubbing your eyes and sitting up.

"I got you a job!"

"That's great, congrats." You yawned and stretched, a dull ache emerging in the middle of your lower back. "Can I go back to sleep now?"

"What kind of reaction was that?! You're supposed to be happy!" He exclaimed, rushing to your side and pulling you up. "Come on, wake up!"

"Stop tickling me," you protested, pushing him away to slump back in the bed. "My head is fucking killing me."

"Well nobody told you to drink that much yesterday."

"I wasn't planning on drinking that much! It just happened!"

"Yeah, okay whatever. Sureee." He moved to sit on the end of your bed as you rolled over onto your back and splayed your palm over your forehead to feel how hot it was. "Who did you hang out with after you left the wedding by the way? I didn't hear from you all night."

"Mira took me to some party with her husband," you responded, raising your hand to cup your mouth as you yawned. "Technically her fiance but yeah."

"Oh she's engaged? That's cool. Did you see Dona?"

You glanced up at him awkwardly scratching his neck as he waited for you to answer. "Did she ghost you or something? Please don't tell me you're in love with her."

His face flushed and he whipped his head over at you. "I'm not!"

"You better not be. She's a bitch first of all and I'd probably kill you for catching feelings that quickly after spending one night with her. Which is still gross as fuck by the way. Never sleep with my friends again."

He rolled his eyes. "It was one time..."

"One time too many," you shuddered and sat upright, the sleep now long gone from your system. "Now tell me about this job."

"Shion said he got you a job at his convenience store. It's yours if you want it."

"Ew..." You shot up, throwing the covers back. "I hate working retail."

"I knew you would say that. Guess you'll just have to start applying for other jobs then. There are plenty of companies hiring and shit," Hiro said, pushing himself off the bed to wipe down his crumpled jeans. "I gotta go to class now. Don't do anything stupid please."

"When have I ever done that?" He opened his mouth to answer. "Don't actually answer that. Just...get to class already."

Hiro grinned and waved goodbye at you before heading down the stairs. You pulled out your phone, expecting your texts to be completely dry only to see a message from Mira.

Maybe: Mira Moria

Hey!!!! I'm sorry I abandoned you at that party yesterday. I was drunk and crying and Naoto took me home early :(((( It won't happen again I promise!! If you ever want to hang out again just text me. I'm always available!! Love you loads and I missed you tons <3333

Your heart warmed at her sweet words, a wave of reassurance washing over you and a smile spreading over your face as you texted back a simple Thank you before shutting off your phone.

The rest of the day went by and you found yourself clinging onto the last bit of your student finance. You really do need a job. One that pays well. That's how you ended up agreeing to Shion's deal.

"Press this button to open the register, press it again to ring up a purchase." He pointed at a small plastic keypad set beside the cash register.

You groaned . The job was definitely far more involved than you expected. "I can't remember all this shit."

"Language," Shion nudged you gently when the store manager looked grumpily in your direction. "C'mon try again, it's easy. I'll go slower." He grabbed your hand and stood behind you as he moved your fingers to each button, explaining slowly their purpose but you were distracted. The feel of his lip against your ear as he spoke, the grip of his hand on your wrist as he moved it from button to button had your heart beating twice as fast. "Gotta get you trained quickly."

With his fingers intertwined with yours, you managed to push the right buttons and complete the task successfully without pressing any wrong ones.

"Hey! You did it!" Shion cheered, gently nudging your shoulder. You bit back on a smile when he wrapped his arms around you in a backwards hug, resting his chin on top of your head as you continued to push the buttons on the screen. His breath tickled your neck as he chuckled quietly. "You wanna give it another go?"

"Sure." You reached forward and pressed the same buttons he did, doing exactly as he instructed. The drawer didn't pop out and you frowned. You felt his hands move back to yours, moving your hand to press the right keys.

The store manager's phone rang and she stood up and left the room to go answer it. She returned minutes later. "Shion, close up the store for me. I have to run."

"You got it, boss." He winked as she rolled her eyes. 

"Train her. I want her to get this down before next week,” she added.

"I will," you responded, determined to understand how to work this damn machine. But the second the door closed, Shion spun you around, pressing your back into the counter and attached his lips to yours. You were caught off guard for a second as he slid his hands down your waist, gripping and squeezing at your hips.

"Shion, we can't," you whispered, panting when he pulled away.

"Why not? It's been so long." He rested his forehead against yours, looking deeply into your eyes. "I missed you so much."

"It's...complicated," you replied, breathless.

"What? You taken or something?" He bent down to kiss your neck, nipping at the skin. "Got some boyfriend abroad or what?"

"No. I don't," you whimpered when he began kissing his way up to your ear, nipping at your earlobe.

"Then what's the problem?"

"It's weird..." You gently pushed him away, breathlessly, wiping your mouth. "I just really need a friend right now. Not...this."

"I know but...we did it before."

"I just got dumped and I was lonely," you admitted, hating the way he tensed up at your harsh words. "I know it was wrong for using you like that but I was nineteen and dumb. I made stupid decisions back then and I regret them." Your hands moved to cup his face. "I love you Shion, but not like that. I don't think I love anyone like that right now."

"Right now...? So there's a chance later?"

You blinked at him. "I don't know."

"Think about it. Because I'm not letting you up that easy, okay? Whenever you need someone, I'll be there." He rested his forehead against yours, intertwining your fingers together. You gaped up at him as he fought back the urge to snatch your lips back in another kiss. "I promise."

"I..." you take a moment to swallow. "I need to take a walk." You stepped out of his grip and grabbed your bag, moving to step past him but he caught your hand in his, turning you back to face him.

"Are you coming back?"

"Yeah! I just need fresh air. I'll be back in like 15."

He looked hesitant but the look on your face made no room for arguments. He let go of your hand and you held a poker face before leaving the store. Your head felt like it was going to explode. How could things go so left in a matter of two minutes...?

In the midst of your walk, your thoughts were interrupted by an incessant buzzing coming from your pocket, Unknown Caller at the top of the screen.

"Hello? Who's this?"

"So you do have the same number." It took every ounce of willpower in you to not instantly hang up.

"Ran. How did you find my number?" you asked through clenched teeth, slowing your footsteps down to a stop.

"It's crazy. I have this thing called a phone and it stores phone numbers in it, and yours also happened to be there you know, because we dated?" Ran said and you could hear the shit-eating grin that was undoubtedly spread across his face.

You groaned, looking up at the sky and hoping someone up there gave you the strength to get through this call. "So, what do you want? Why are you calling me?"

"Because you can't leave me on read this way."

"...bye, Ran."

"Hold up, wait wait," his laugh stopped you from hanging up. "Can we just talk for a moment?"

You sighed, running a hand across your face. "Talk about what? What on earth is there possibly to talk about?"

"Anything. You know my conversation topics are diverse."

"Well mine aren't. Neither is my patience, Ran. So say what you want or I'm hanging up and blocking your number." You didn't mean to sound as harsh as you came across, but emotions were getting the best of you.

There was a brief pause and you swear you heard him sigh on the other line. "You're stressed."

"I'm not fucking stressed," you remonstrated, rubbing your temples once you felt your temper start to rise.

"You sound stressed," he hummed thoughtfully, oblivious to the way you were slowly starting to lose it. "You were never this stressed when we were together," he added.

"For the record, I was stressed out because of you many many times Ran."

"Yeah...but at least I made things right and fucked it out of you." You scoffed loudly and he laughed. "I can do it again if you'd like."

"I knew there was something you wanted," you sighed heavily, hating how your mind was actually considering it.

"No strings attached. Promise," he grinned and you pursed your lips in a small line.

"There's always strings attached with you, Ran."

"Just come over. I'll send someone to your house to pick you up right now," he said softly.

"I'm not at home right now. I'm at work."

"Where?"

"That convenience store on the corner by the train station," you said automatically, casting a guilty look back at the convenience store with Shion inside.

"Perfect." He texted his driver the location. "You're comfortable with the same driver from yesterday, right? Rate his service."

You snorted. "Do you run an Uber service or what?"

"Nah," he chortled. "He's on his way. See you soon."

"Okay, bye Ran." You softly hung up the phone and bit your lip as you looked back at the store. The driver would take a couple minutes and you have plenty of time to walk in there and talk to Shion, tell him you're going to hopefully get laid...yeah no, you can't do that. That'll be a slap in the face.

You wanted to slam your head against the car window when the same driver from yesterday pulled up and you didn't tell Shion you in fact were not coming back to the store. A simple text could suffice too, but you were feeling uneasy contacting him after that confession earlier. It was a shitty thing to do, you knew that, telling him you weren't ready for anything like that whilst currently on your way to your ex's house.

The driver looked at you through the mirror. "You look stressed."

"You know you're the second person to tell me that today," you couldn't help but fight back a laugh. Do you look stressed? How were you even supposed to know at this point? "What's your name? I'm curious."

"I can't tell you that."

"Why not? I'm harmless."

He chuckled before clearing his throat, looking straight back at the road. "Maybe later. I consider Mr. Haitani would want me to drive you around a lot in the future."

"Yeah right. This is a one time thing."

"I've heard that before," he chuckled before pulling up outside Ran's penthouse.

Feeling mischievous, you unbuckled your seat belt and leaned over the console to the wheel and honked the horn around ten times, each one lasting longer than the last, until Ran opened the front door, mumbling something under his breath before walking over to the car, tapping on the window. You moved back into your seat and rolled it down.

"I have a doorbell you know? And a door," he said with a grin when you wouldn't stop laughing.

"I was lazy," you smiled sheepishly, unlocking the car door and pulling him inside. Your hand moved behind his head and pulled him down for a kiss. You nearly melted when he brought his hand up to your thigh.

"Get out," he pulled away, casting a glance at the driver who nodded and smoothly slid out of the car. The second the door shut, Ran brought his attention back to you, pushing you down against the seat. You moaned as he covered your body with his own, trailing kisses along your jawline.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed your nose up against his. "No strings attached right?" you asked.

"None," he promised, moving to sit down and pull you on top of his lap. His hands gripped your waist tightly as he kissed you passionately, causing goosebumps to cover your body. It had been so long since you've gotten any form of affection and the butterflies in your stomach were raging.

His tongue ran along your bottom lip, urging it open , letting it glide along his own. When you pulled away, you hummed softly when his lips trailed soft kisses down your neck and your shirt soon got thrown on the floor.

Your fingers raked through his hair as he got closer to your chest. You reached down and slid your hand under his t-shirt. Feeling his muscles, and smooth skin underneath his clothes caused butterflies to form in your stomach. Pulling him closer, you bit his earlobe as his fingers traced under your breast. His hands moved to unzip your jeans, you raised your hips up to allow him to successfully take them off and tossed them onto the floor, in a sad pile along with your shirt.

He ran his fingers along your bare thighs, making you gasp slightly. The feeling of his warm breath against your breasts, the gentle nips and bites were all so distracting you didn't notice his fingers trailing down to your panties.

Your body shivered with desire as he pressed more of his weight against you, pressing his lips against yours more harshly, moaning into your mouth and gripping every part of your body he could grasp. You felt more drunk at this moment than you did yesterday when you were actually drunk. Your body is naturally attracted to his presence, craving his mouth, his fingers, his touch.

"Fuck..." you whispered when his fingers nudged your panties aside, rubbing soft circles on your clit. You were so wet, his fingers soaked when he pulled away, moving them up to your lips, watching eagerly as you sucked them clean.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered huskily, pushing his fingers deeper into your mouth. You moaned around them, sucking hard before gasping when he pulled his fingers out. "Fuck. Get on your knees."

You obeyed, bending in uncomfortable positions to shift onto your knees in the limited space in the car. Grinning, he leaned back and watched you reach inside his pants and grab his cock. You shifted forward, taking in every inch of his length and biting your lip as you wrapped your hand around the shaft, squeezing gently. You began softly stroking it, letting the tip rub against your lips, and back down to the base. The salty sweet flavour of pre-cum began coating your fingers as you moved your hand faster.

"You look so sexy right now," he muttered, tilting your head up so he could see you better. You smiled and licked your lips, moving back down to suck gently on his tip. Your eyebrows pinched in interest when you saw him lift his hips up to grab his phone from his back pocket, holding the camera just above his dick.

"What are you doing?" you asked, leaning forward to see. His spare hand pushed your head back down towards his crotch.

"What does it look like?" he quipped, focusing the camera on your face as you stared at him intently.

"Who are you sending that to?" you asked curiously.

"Myself." You looked at him a little unsure. "I promise, baby. This is my spare phone for my personal use only."

"Okay..." you whispered, playing with his dick a little more before moving back up to the tip. "At least tell me if it's a pic or video."

"Shh...don't distract me."

You rolled your eyes and kissed down the length of his cock when you heard a click, then another click, before the sound of a video being recorded. Looking up at him, you grinned and placed your free hand under his balls, moving your thumb in circular motions over them. You licked a long strip from base to tip before slowly engulfing his cock in your mouth. His hips thrusted forward as you took all of him in, moaning softly at how good he tasted. Sucking gently, you twirled your tongue around the tip, sucking firmly. He groaned your name, tossing the phone on the seat and pulled you off his cock.

"C'mere," he murmured, tugging you upwards onto his lap. With a soft giggle, you wrapped your arms around his neck as his hands slid over the curve of your ass, letting you climb on top of him.

You peeled your panties off, adding to the pile of your clothes in the corner and lifted your hips up to let him angle his cock inside you. Slowly entering you, you slowly sunk down, savouring every inch of his cock working his way into you. Your eyes flew open as you felt yourself start to drip around him. You shifted slightly, his cock hitting something good inside you, then whimpered by his ear the lower you sank down.

"Oh...fuck..." you bit your lip, closing your eyes as you let out a soft sigh when his lips attached to your neck. Glancing down at him, you ran your fingers through his messy hair, gripping it tight as you started bouncing. He groaned when you tightened around him, your fingers scratching at his hair made him tighten his grip around your waist.

Every time you slammed down on him, he pulled you tighter, burying himself deep inside you. His fingers dragged deep lines down the length of your back every time you tightened around him. You tried to slow down but he wouldn't have any of it, sinking his fingers in the soft fat of your hips and started bouncing you harder.

"Faster...please..." you begged, shaking with pleasure, reaching behind you to grip onto his knee. He ran his eyes down your body, licking his lips when he noticed your face squeezed in pleasure. Giving a soft chuckle, he reached down to play with your clit, sliding his thumb over the sensitive bud every time you slammed down on him. It felt like he was splitting you open, your body exploding with nerves as his lips wrapped around your nipples, sucking with an intensity that sent your body into overload.

Your orgasm ripped through you and you silently screamed as your juices gushed out onto his cock, turning a creamy white colour as it mixed with his cum. Every inch of your body shook uncontrollably as you collapsed onto his chest, trembling.

His finger stopped rubbing against your clit and you moaned quietly. He ran his fingers down your sides, planting kisses along your face before reaching your lips. You kissed him back just as eagerly, pulling away to catch your breath.

"Holy shit," you breathed heavily, bringing your forehead to rest on his. "God...that was amazing," you panted, trying to catch your breath, your sides ticklish from his fingers tracing patterns into your skin.

"You were amazing," he replied with a grin. Lifting his hand from your hip, he caressed your thighs slowly. "Do you have any plans tomorrow?" he asked, looking up at your face, completely mesmerised by you.

"No, why?" you responded, fanning yourself as the temperature in the car rose.

"Spend the night here." His voice was warm and serious.

"What happened to no strings attached, Ran?" you teased, looking down at his t-shirt and unbuttoning a couple buttons to run your finger down his tattoo.

"Please," he sighed, angling his face in a way that caused your breath to catch in your throat.

"I dunno...Ran."

He pulled your hand up so he could kiss each finger individually. "Mm, why not? You said you missed me, remember?"

"Yeah but that's the problem. I don't want things to get weird, you know."

"I don't care if it's weird, just spend the night with me." He looked you in the eye, making sure there was no hint of regret or sadness behind your eyes. "Besides, you kinda owe me."

You moved your head backwards. "What?"

"With how we ended," he leaned forward until his nose brushed yours, "that was rough."

"You deserved it," you spat, hating how close you were getting to giving in to his charm.

"The only thing I deserve right now is your cute ass in my bed sleeping next to me, and by the looks of things," he ran his thumb across your bottom lip, "I think I'm going to get what I want."

The two of you held eye contact as if challenging you to say otherwise. You gave him one last look, then moved off his lap. He watched in silence as you began changing back into your clothes, fighting back a laugh when you put your shirt on inside out but it didn't matter because you looked at him, disappointed in yourself. "Lead the way."

~*~

"Where's your shower?" you asked as you stepped inside his house. "I feel gross and sweaty."

Ran shrugged off his jacket, tossing it over a nearby chair and walked towards his room. "Just down the hall, second door on the left," he answered, slipping off his shoes and pulling you with him. "Come on, I'll show you."

You glanced around, taking in his house as he led you to the bathroom. His hand was firmly planted on your back, never releasing you as he opened the door and walked inside, motioning for you to follow. You began to strip off your shirt, pausing when you realised he was still there.

"Um. Privacy please?"

He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms and tilted his head at you. "Nothing I haven't seen before."

"Jesus...Ran. Are you being forreal right now?"

He snorted and left the room, shutting the door behind him. After you showered, you grabbed a clean towel and wrapped it around your waist, stepping into his bedroom. "I need clothes."

Ran was laying on his bed, texting on his phone with one hand as the other fiddled with the front strands of his hair. "In the closet over there. Help yourself."

You padded your wet feet over to the closet and found a shirt and a pair of shorts. After changing, you crawled onto his bed, lying flat and watched his eyes glue onto his phone. "What're you doing?" you asked.

He tilted the phone in your direction and your eyes widened when you were met with the sight of your lips wrapped around his cock from earlier, slowly bobbing your head up and down.

"Please delete that," you groaned, covering your face in embarrassment.

"You look good, stop stressing."

A few minutes passed where neither of you spoke, enjoying the moment and he went back to typing at his phone. "When are you going to sleep?" you asked.

"Not anytime soon," he said, not taking his eyes off his phone. "I have work to do tonight."

"By the way, what do you do? I noticed that tattoo on your neck." You sat upright and reached out to touch it. He flicked his eyes up at you, throat bobbing under your touch as he swallowed.

"I do business."

You looked at him impressed. "What type of business?"

He booped your nose. "You're nosy, aren't you?"

You narrowed your eyes at him. "You're hiding something from me."

"I'm not."

"You are."

"Not."

You crossed your arms. "Then tell me." Your eyes dropped down to his unlocked phone and quickly grabbed at it, scrambling backwards to the end of the bed. He laughed and grabbed your legs, pulling you back towards him and took his phone back. You giggled and tried squirming away but he was too strong as he caged you in. "You want to play games, big girl?"

"Um...no," you said, looking up at him shyly.

"If you must know, I run businesses like clubs, restaurants, casinos, etc." He intentionally left out some more details, but the satisfied look on your face was enough for him.

"That's cool I guess," you said as he stood up. "Do you have to go now?"

"Yeah. I've got a meeting now." He slid the phone back into his pocket and placed his hand on your cheek, turning your face towards him. He moved closer, staring deeply into your eyes. "Goodnight. I'll be back before you wake up."

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him sweetly. "Night," you whispered. He lingered longer than necessary and your heart beat faster every time he pressed his lips against yours. When he finally pulled away, he stared down at you, taking his own sweet time.

"Keep looking at me like that, you're gonna make me miss the meeting," he whispered, leaning down to press his lips against your collarbone.

"Then miss it," you whispered into his ear, watching him slowly think about it.

"Where the fuck is Haitani?" Mikey sighed for the tenth time, pinching his temples as Ran's assistant rapidly tapped away at her phone, spamming her Boss.

"I don't know," Dona said, frowning down at her phone screen. She flipped her blonde bangs out of her eyes and sighed again. "I called him six times but he's not picking up. His phone is on because it didn't go to voicemail."

Sanzu snorted, leaning back in his chair. "Doesn't mean anything, people lose their phones all the time."

Kakucho shook his head, disagreeing. "Not Ran. He practically has his phone glued to him at all times. He probably just fell asleep again."

Mikey was growing more and more impatient. "Rindou," he called out suddenly, making Rindou look up at him. "Go to your brother's house and get him to come already."

"You think he's gonna listen to me?" Rindou asked, getting up from his seat and putting his phone away.

Dona rolled her eyes, grabbing the nearest paperweight. "Of course he will. You're the only one in this room he actually considers listening to, minus Mikey of course. I’ll come too."

"Fine." Rindou shrugged his jacket back on. "Give us twenty minutes."

"Take your time," Sanzu grinned, scooting his chair over to Takeomi sitting near the back of the room and resting his cheek on the table. He peeked a green eye open at his older brother as he counted the money from the deal he made earlier. "Whatcha doin'?" He reached out to poke Omi's cheek before gasping when his hand got slapped away.

"Minding my business, dumbass." Takeomi grumbled, kicking Haru's chair away.

Mikey puffed out his tenth sigh of the day and pointed at Rindou. "If Ran doesn't come in the next thirty minutes we'll start without him."

"Got it, boss," Rindou said before exiting the room with Dona following behind him.

You sighed happily when Ran planted a small kiss on your clit. He slowly began unravelling you with his tongue, running it along the seam of your folds. His nose brushed against your clit and you sighed happily, messing up his hair as he sucked you gently.

There was loud banging on the door which snapped both of you out of your sex haze. You sat upright before Ran pushed you back down, moving your hips back towards him. "Ran, not now. Go answer the door."

"They can wait," he responded before returning back to his mission. You sunk back down into the pillows, trying to keep your moans to a minimum as his tongue slid along your slit, circling and sucking the bed gently.

"God..." you whimpered, digging your nails into the sheets as his talented tongue worked magic on you. The knocking persisted but Ran continued to ignore it, his eyes meeting yours as they danced with lust. His finger trailed along your wet slit and your body tightened as he slid it inside you.

"Mmm," he mumbled against your pussy as his thumb began teasing your swollen bud.

The knocking stopped then the sound of a key unlocking the front door. You froze when you heard footsteps down the hallway. You tried to push Ran off you but he gripped your hips firmly when you tugged at his hair, hard enough to lift his face from between your thighs.

"Relax, it's just Rindou. He's probably here to scream at me or somethin'."

"Rindou?!" you squeaked, trying to squirm away from his lips kissing down your thighs. "He's gonna see me! At least lemme put some clothes on!"

"Relax," he replied.

"Say relax one more time and see what happens," you glared down at him. He grinned, planting one more kiss to your thighs before letting go. He sat up against the bed, watching you change back into the pair of shorts he gave you in record time before Rindou burst through his bedroom door.

Rindou's eyes surveyed the messy bed, the crumpled sheets, Ran's messy hair, your heavy breathing, and he narrowed his eyes. "Oh you've gotta be fucking kidding me."

Part of you was nervous he recognised you, but he never brought it up or said your name.

Ran only grinned and shrugged. "What?"

"You wanna tell me why you're twenty minutes late to the meeting?" He looked over at you and you intentionally avoided his gaze. "Actually, I know why. You're prioritising sleeping with hookers instead of doing your damn job."

"Hooker?" you said, offended.

"Oh my bad," he faked sincerity. "Forgot that word is offensive now. What the hell are you girls called instead these days?"

You opened your mouth to speak before Ran cut you off. "She's not just some chick, Rinnie." Rindou rolled his eyes at the nickname. Ran grabbed a hold of your waist, pulled you into his lap and grabbed your face, squishing your cheeks and forcing you to meet Rindou's gaze. "You don't remember this face?"

Rindou blinked, taking another look at you. It took him a couple seconds before his eyes widened as the realisation dawned on him. "No. You're fucking lying."

Ran smirked and moved his hands from your face to your waist. "You're so slow. That hair dye is getting to your brain, isn't it?"

"We have the exactly same hair colour--"

"Hi, Rindou," you cut him off before it could lead to an argument. He glared at you for a short moment before clicking his tongue, successfully ignoring you and turning to face his older brother.

"Ran let's fucking go already."

"Okay then," you murmured, looking down at your hands.

Ran sighed and peeled you off his lap and set you on the bed. "I gotta go, baby." He planted a wet kiss along your forehead. "Get some sleep, I'll see you soon."

TAGLIST: @escafhwiluv @lyniana @haitanifxn @rindougf03 @mvteria @hisan-na @luvhaitani @mishueb @Dreamxies @yuma404 @sleeplessreader @shinichirolover @illusorysmut @Lxvephxbic @obsessedwreiner @ililailii @insayninthamembrayn @missgab @reihimbo @l0velikethis @lollevi @danasaan @tenjikusstuff4 @midoriapologist @alkanessa @asp7n

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MAIN MASTERLIST

#—tr </3 #series : wasted times #ran x reader #tokrev x reader #tokrev #tokyorev x reader #haitani ran x reader #ran haitani x reader #haitani ran smut #ran smut #ran haitani smut

[kissablening]

SECRETS & WEBS — s.rj oneshot

pairings: spiderman!ryujin x roommate fem!reader

summary: your roommate, shin ryujin, turns out to be the citys superhero , spiderman but you are unaware of that..

warnings: language

wc: 827

note: oneshot debut👀👀 , lmk if yall want another part to this lol!!

IT was about 11 pm on a Sunday night, usually you’d be in bed, ready to sleep— but you had an important exam tomorrow so you used all the extra time you had to study for it.

You sigh at the thought of taking your exam tomorrow, it was infact a math exam and to your luck you were horrible at the subject.

Your roommate, shin ryujin aka the nerd of the house, promised to help you with studying today which was another reason you were still awake, waiting for her to return to your apartment even though it was late as hell.

You sat in silence, thinking about the answer to the 4th question on the study guide ryujin made you before she left, she made sure it was as difficult as the exam because damn, you were struggling on it too.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a loud thud coming from the front of the apartment, this freaked you out because usually, ryujin messages you 5 minutes before she arrives home. You quickly grab the bat sitting in the corner of your room before slowly opening your room door to go check what the thud was.

The only source of light was coming from your room since you earlier turned off any light you werent using to help the light bill a little. Rushing to turn on the living room light, the front door was still unlocked but the light to ryujins room was on.

Okay, what the fuck.

“Ryu, is that you? Are you home?” you call out, making sure it was her in her own room and not a intruder. You let out a sigh of relief after hearing her swear under her breath. You discard the bat somewhere on the sofas in the living room before walking towards ryujins bedroom.

You tried just walking into her room as you always do but the door was locked. weird. “ryu what was that thud about? are you okay in there?”

“Im fine yn, just dropped my dumbell on the floor.” she responds almost out of breath. weird x2.

“dumbell? since when did you have dumbells?” You question putting your ear to the door so you could hear her better, instead you hear her unlocking the door so you quickly moved away waiting for her to open it.

She opens the door standing in the door frame with a smirk on her face, yes you said she was a nerd, but she was still popular in school, played sports, basically your local f-boy with an actual big brain. “What do you mean since when did i have dumbells? do you think i just have these abs through genetics?” She taunts motioning her hand up and down her body. your eyes follows her hands eyeing her body, your eyes widened, “Like what you see? well you can always—”

“SHIN RYUJIN WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO YOU, SERIOUSLY WHY ARE YOU BLEEDING SO MUCH!!! OH MY GOD I NEED TO GET THE FIRST AID KIT.” You panic after seeing the large bloody cut on the side of ryujins torso, running to find a first aid kit. Ryujin eyes widened and looked down.

Ryujin curses to herself in her head for forgetting to heal that spot, she expected You to be sleeping by this time, what she wasn’t expecting was her roommate finding the large cut a villain left on her, that she forgot to heal.

She slowly stops the bleeding on the wound, enough that you wont notice its stopped completely. She could hear your footsteps becoming louder.

Standing up straight placing her hand on her cut, she watched as you guided her to the dining table, sitting her down in the chair, placing the first aid kit onto the table.

“Seriously ryu are you an idiot? How the hell did u even get a cut this big?” You scold patting the cut down with alcohol wipes.

“Ahaha, its no big deal babe, i didnt even feel a thing.” Ryujin replies smiling down at the girl whose glaring at her through her reading glasses. “So, whyre you still up at this time, yn?”

“I was..waiting for you.” You say shyly , wrapping the wound in a bandage. “And all done, youre welcome.”

Ryujin ruffles her hair before standing up, secretly healing the wound in the process. “Awww, you were waiting for me?” She grabs yn’s cheeks.

Your cheeks heat up immediately, ryujin was always a flirt so why is this effecting you right now? “N..No! I was waiting for you to help me study ryujin. You promised..”

“Oh shit I did, im sorry ill help you study now.” Ryujin says grabbing your hand, leading you to her room to help you study. Letting out a sigh of relief that you didn’t bombard her with questions about why she was home so late.

“Oh by the way.. why were you home so late? its nearly 1 am.”

Shit.

⋆｡°✩🕸️🕷️✮⋆˙

#⁺ 𓂋 𓈒 ࣪𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 #ryujin x fem reader #ryujin itzy #itzy ryujin #ryujin x reader #shin ryujin #ryujin #itzy #oneshot #fanfic #kissablening stories #𓍢 ›𓂃 ִֶָ ࣪

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Already Gone || MV1 {6}

Pairing: Max Verstappen x spy!fem!reader Summary: The brief moment of quiet comes to an end when Ferrari go on the attack for retribution. Warnings: 18+ only, oral, smut, violence WC: 2.7k

F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven

You had fired the warning shot and there was nothing to be done but wait and see how Ferrari would respond to their stocks plummeting.

With no races for the next two weeks you had too much spare time that it left you itching to do something, anything. After years of living life on a whim, moving from place to place faster than Max with his DRS, all this time at home was taking some getting used to.

The house was tidy, the laundry was done, you even started to log into the dark web to see if there were any jobs waiting before realising that it wasn’t your job anymore. You were part of a small team that worked under the very loose term of security but reported directly to Christian. With Ferrari scrambling for sponsors to finance their team, it had been relatively quiet for you in recent weeks.

After pottering around in the kitchen you decided it was five o’clock somewhere in the world and broke out the blender. Armed with two cocktails, and nothing left to keep you busy while Max streamed, you made your way upstairs and decided to watch his race with the rest of the Redline team.

You saw his smile grow in the small box in the corner of his screen when he spotted you pass through the doorway behind him and he risked crashing as he steered with one hand so the other could pull you onto his lap.

“I wondered when you would get bored,” he commented as he continued leading the race. 

“It seemed the perfect excuse for some day drinking,” you said as you held his glass up to his lips so he could take a sip as he steered.

“Oh fuck, that’s strong,” he said with a cough before taking another drink anyway.

The chat box started to go crazy with the amount of comments coming through and you scanned over them until one caught your eye and you snorted a laugh.

user1: Max, I hacked your computer and have your sex tape. Pay me €1m or I’ll release it.

“No one can get past my firewalls, but nice try!” you said before you leant towards the camera and childishly poked your tongue out. 

“Babe, babe,” Max called as he shifted around trying to see the screen before his car crashed and he threw his hands in the air, nearly sending the drinks flying. “Ah, come on." His head dropped to your shoulder with a groan before he placed a quick kiss in the same spot. "Gianni says thanks.”

user2: Uh-oh! Someone’s in trouble now. user3: Y/N coming and ruining it for the rest of us.

“I was just giving the other guys a chance to win,” you said for the chat before turning to Max and kissing his cheek, “so your friends will still want to play with you.”

user4: such a mommy thing to say user5: Did everyone else miss the fact Y/N just confirmed they made a sex tape!

Since Max no longer needed his arms to drive, they curled around your waist as he read the comments with you, answering some questions along the way. 

“No, we haven't…well, not on purpose,” he said as he saw the last comment. “I forget how many security cameras she has set up around the house and there’s always new ones, so it just happens.”

user3: Sounds like Y/N is keeping Max in prison. Blink twice if you need help.

His laugh teased your skin as he rested his chin on your shoulder and unplugged his headphones so you could hear Gianni and Diogo teasing him.

“Alright,” he cut them off with a roll of his eyes when they took things too far as always happened. “That's enough internet for one day, I’m going to go and get drunk with my lovely warden.”

“That’s sarcasm, for those about to call the police,” you pointed out as you held his bored face up to the camera. “I know it’s hard to tell with this stoic, handsome face.”

Max chuckled as he closed the platform and you shifted on his lap to get more comfortable. “Are there any videos?”

“Oh, without a doubt,” you confirmed after finishing your drink while you thought of all the places in the house you had gotten carried away with each other. “I haven’t actually checked though, but now I just might. Maybe I can make a video for when you’re away.”

“For you or for me?” he asked as his hands ran up your thighs slowly.

“I might share with you if you ask me nicely.”

The sim chair went sliding back before Max stood up with you in his arms and he navigated the hall to cage you beneath him on the bed. You could taste the gin on his tongue before he trailed his lips down your neck and across your collarbone.

“Is this you asking?”

He hummed his answer against your skin and his fingers popped the button on your jeans. “Nicely.”

“You certainly know how to get your way,” you praised, lifting your hips so he could drag them down your legs before you sat up just long enough to pull your shirt off.

“I learned from the best,” he teased with a wink before he tugged your body to the edge of the bed and fell to his knees between your spread legs. His breath was warm on your thighs and the short hairs that shadowed his cheeks left you writhing before his lips even made contact.

“Maxxxxx,” you whined as he kissed everywhere except where you needed it most.

“Yes?”

You pushed yourself up on your elbows so you could see the smirk on his lips. “This is not my definition of ‘nicely’.”

“Patience, liefje.”

“Patience was never my strongest virtue,” you warned before you used a move that was meant for close combat and ended with Max on his back on the carpet and you straddling his chest. “I want you.”

“I can see that,” he chuckled as his hands gripped your thighs and pulled you higher up his body, lining your centre with his lips. “Impatient little minx.”

You moaned as his tongue finally found your sweet spot after all the teasing and your hips rolled as you buried your hands in his hair and rode his face.

You had never had a lover like him, one that was more focused on your pleasure than his own. One orgasm wasn’t enough, he wanted you weak and overstimulated, your arousal running down his chin as he held your hips tightly so you couldn’t escape his tongue.

Your body was more than wet enough to take him when he kicked his shorts away and you sunk down his hard length. But your cunt was tight from the orgasms and the air left your lungs as he filled you so deeply it was almost to the point of pain.

“Need a moment?” he asked as his thumb reached between your legs and found your clit.

You did but, as he said, you were impatient and planted your palms on his chest as you slowly started to ease yourself up and down his cock. The sounds of your breathing changed as pleasure began to build and Max grinned as he gripped your hips knowing you were ready for more. He shifted beneath you, his knees bending so he could have the leverage he needed before he slammed up into you.

You cried his name out as your bodies slapped together and his strong hands bounced you in time to his thrusts. Every stroke dragged him along your walls that fluttered around him and you swore in ecstasy as his head hit your cervix.

Sweat beaded on your forehead, your legs trembled uncontrollably and you could barely open your eyes when his hold finally eased. There was no way you were going to be able to make it to the bed as you rolled off his body and collapsed to the carpet beside him

You were just about to open your mouth and ask him to drag the bedsheet down to the floor when your smartwatch lit up on your wrist. The alert was for the silent alarm that had been triggered on the perimeter of the property and all the oxytocin and dopamine released thanks to Max was replaced with adrenaline. Strength flooded back to you as you rose to your feet and grabbed a white shirt of Max’s that was close by.

“Lock the door behind me,” you ordered Max with a whisper as he noticed the change instantly. “And call Christian.”

“What’s going on?” he asked, pulling his shorts up as he made his way to the door too.

“Someone’s in the house.” You grabbed his shoulder as he went to step out of the room and pushed him aside. “Do not leave the room until I’m back. This is my job.”

“You’re my girlfriend, I’m not going to let you go alone.”

“Right now I’m your security,” you hissed quietly as you watched the camera feed in the small device, “and I will knock you out if it means keeping you safe.”

He held his palms up and took a step back into the room until you nodded in satisfaction. “Be safe.”

The worry in his tone brought a small smile to your face. “Always.” The door clicked shut behind you before the lock slid into place and the smile faded. It was time to go hunting.

You swiped across the device on your arm, flipping through all the cameras to determine there were three men in the house. They were still on the ground floor and making their way around each corner with the ease of a group that was used to working together.

Pulling Max’s shirt over your body, you wished you had time to at least put on a pair of panties. That was the last thought you spared before gripping the handrail of the stairs and shutting out everything but the task ahead of you. These men would not make it to the stairs, they would not make it to your bedroom, they would not make it to Max.

You timed it perfectly.

The billowing shirt caught the air as you leapt over the handrail and crashed feet first onto the man who had stepped into your path. He was lucky he didn’t look up because Max would have probably killed him for what be would have seen. Instead your heel connected with his head and he was a crumpled heap on the floor before you had even got back on your feet.

“She’s in here! You, find Verstappen and break his fucking hands.”

You dropped your hips low as you spun to face the voice behind you, tucking your head behind your forearms as a fist tried to kiss your cheek. The blow glanced off your arm but the crunch on knuckles on plastic rendered your smartwatch broken.

“Dick,” you growled as you lost the camera feed, and the position of the third asshole who had broken into your home. Angered even more so, you took the offensive and attacked.

The man was well trained as he dipped and dodged your 1-2 combo but he wasn’t expecting the furious headbutt you threw when he stepped in for a body shot. Light exploded behind your eyes as the man stumbled back with a groan before he stabilised himself with the wall.

“You’re a scrapper, aren’t you?” he laughed as he wiped the blood from his forehead before it ran into his eyes.

“Raised in the streets, sweetcheeks,” you smirked. If it wasn’t for the gin and adrenaline your head would probably be aching beyond belief but you couldn’t feel it just yet. “Who hired you?”

“I’m not going to tell you.”

“Worth a try,” you said with a shrug. “At least I know there’s no reason to leave any of you conscious.”

This time when the man attacked you didn’t try to stop him, you let him shove his weight into you and took him with you to the floor. Your knees caught his gut and when the momentum shifted, you pushed up with all your strength and sent him barreling into the solid oak front door. The wood cracked under the hit it took and you waited a moment to see if the man would rise.

A sound of annoyance rumbled from your throat as he tried to crawl on his knees and you shook your head. “You have one hard head, sweetcheeks.”

“Fuck. You,” he spat back, using the door handle to pull himself up.

“No, thanks,” you swung your knee up and knocked the air out of him, satisfied he wouldn’t be trying to get up again when he slumped to the floor. “I have taste.”

A shadow crossed the floor from the other end of the hall and you spun around to see the last assailant darting from the kitchen to the living room. Aiming to cut him off, you took the other archway into the large room and found him armed with a very expensive vase.

“We weren’t interrupting something, were we?” he asked as he eyed up the length of skin showing beneath Max’s shirt and you pulled the material back into place as you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Lucky for you we had just finished. If not, your friends would be dead.”

The vase was a gift from Max’s mother no less, and the man threw it at your head. You were torn between trying to catch it and self preservation but self preservation won as you slid out of the trajectory and it shattered across the living room floor. Shards went flying and Achilles hissed as he shot off the couch with the fright.

That’s when you saw red.

A sound akin to a warcry erupted from you as you ran and tackled the man around the waist, shoving your shoulder into his ribs as you both went down.

“You.” Your fist splattered blood across the carpet as it broke his nose. “Scared.” The skin on your knuckles split with a hard punch to the man’s side. “My.” Your nose wrinkled at the sound of his ribs cracking. “Cat!” You fell back on your heels panting as the man struggled to breathe.

The rapid thumping of feet running down the stairs had you rushing back to your feet thinking there was a fourth intruder but it was Max who skidded around the corner.

“You’re meant to wait for me,” you said as the fight left you exhausted and you swayed on your feet.

His arms were there to catch you and he scooped you off your feet and he kissed your sweaty forehead. “I heard you scream.”

“They scared Achilles,” you said with a wince at the touch and he pulled back, his eyes widening as he saw the swelling of the bruise beginning.

“You’re hurt.” The living room gave way to the kitchen and Max placed you on the countertop as he grabbed the first aid kit from under the bench.

“I might have a headache.”

“Stop being so tough,” he warned as he cracked the rapid ice pack open and placed it to your head. “Brett’s on his way, so is Christian.”

You bit your lip as he wiped your knuckles with disinfectant and the alcohol burned the cuts before he gently wrapped them with gauze.

“Does this mean we have to move?” he asked as he stepped between your legs and took over holding the ice pack in place. It was almost hard to imagine that on the other side of the wall there were three men unconscious when he stood in such an intimate position.

Your head snapped back to look him in the eyes. “No, this is my home. I’ll be damned if I let anyone take that away from me again.”

He swallowed before nodding in agreement. “Okay, then teach me to fight.”

Your eyebrows shot up your forehead and you winced as it sparked fresh pain. “What?”

“This is our home. I’m not going to let you defend it alone, again.” He pressed a quick kiss to your lips as the doorbell rang and Brett called out. “This is my fight too.”

“Your fight with Ferrari is out on the track.”

“Not anymore.”

Click here for chapter seven.

Tagging: @octaviareina @omgsuperstarg @mvclff1 @alwaysclassyeagle @icantcomeupwithamusicalname-blog @laneyspaulding19 @booknerd2004-blog @mimimarvelingmarvel @chonkybonky @vita-di-moda @formulas-bitch @untitled1279

#max verstappen x you #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen smut #f1 smut #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction

[comicaurora]

are you scared of the whole AI art thing? What do you think about it?

"Scared" is the wrong word, I think. "Pissed" is probably more accurate. The technology underlying the concept is interesting, but its current form transparently functions by mining data from artists who didn't consent to have their work used like that. Arguments over whether it's "real art" or whatever aside, that is unethical and gross and a class-action lawsuit waiting to happen.

I think the people scared that this is going to replace actual living artists are severely overestimating the technology at play here and possibly don't understand computers very much.

The reason why computers are a fascinating mix of very smart and very stupid is because they are only good at doing exactly what they are told. Human thought, communication and creation is based on a process of flexible interpretation. Our brains take in patterns of light and sound and interpret them into shapes and figures and speech - a process that is imperfect, messy and susceptible to any number of disruptions from minor chemical alterations to major brain injuries. We read text and subtext and emotional undertones into what we hear, we extrapolate assumptions from the things we see. It's an extremely messy process with a lot of room for error, as evinced by miscommunications, corner-of-the-eye shadow people, "are you mad at me I feel like you're mad at me", getting hangry, assigning personalities to car taillights, audio processing disorders, and about a million other human idiosyncrasies.

Art, down to its bones, is about interpretation - the artist interpreting a slice of the world and the audience interpreting that art. This is why no two people experience the same story the same way, and why no two artists create the same work.

Computers, in contrast, are not messy. Or, to be more accurate, they aren't naturally messy. They do exactly what they are told. They have no context, no axioms, no common sense and no rules except what they're given. A human told to write a sentence over and over again and never being told to stop will eventually get bored or tired or hungry or pissed and stop. A computer told to 'while 1: printf("Hello World!")' will do it forever until the power goes out or someone notices and forces it to stop. A person told "hey man can you go to the store and get me a mango, and if they have apples get five" will acquire a mango and possibly five apples. A computer told the same instruction may well turn up with five mangos. A computer won't do anything if you forget to close a parenthesis or put in a semicolon somewhere in a thousand lines of code because it's doing exactly what it's told. The eternal frustration of computer science is figuring out why the stupid computer isn't doing what you told it to do, and the answer is always "you didn't tell it what to do right. Find the missing parenthesis. Don't capitalize that one variable."

An artist told to paint a fantastical landscape might paint beautiful mountains or flying cities or the high, arching curves of Saturn-style rings or ancient ruins or massive skeletons or any number of things. A computer told to render a fantastical landscape will, as I understand it, comb through a database it's been given by a human, find works a human or a human-trained algorithm tagged with "fantastical" "landscape" (or, if it's been made a little more complex, a word-web of other tags commonly added by a human to things tagged with "fantastical" and "landscape") and use a very impressive program created by a human to recombine them into a mashup of "fantastical" "landscapes" that may or may not parse correctly to the human who looks at it. The computer doesn't know. The computer isn't thinking. It's just doing what it's been told to do.

If we stop thinking of computers like people that are going to take our jobs and start thinking of them like tools that people use, the whole situation becomes a lot clearer. The technology isn't the problem. The people who baked in stolen datasets and the people who are using the tool to be dicks to artists are the problem. I'm not scared of the tech and I'm not scared of the people - I just wish they'd stop being dicks.

And even if we do reach the theoretical point where a computer can create art that actually stands up to scrutiny - you know, where the hands don't look like calamari plates and the eyes and teeth don't blur together and sharp delineating lines between clothing and skin don't just sort of dissolve into shadowy vagueness - I think that'll be the point we just shift into the "holy shit! two cakes!!" zone. 3D animation didn't make 2D animation obsolete. 4K screens didn't kill pixel art. The printing press didn't kill painting. Video only killed the radio star until podcasts brought them back. People enjoy lots of things.

#asks #not aurora #art stuff

[bloofinntoona]

Open Arms

Word Count: 1.8k

Themes: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, A bit steamy at the end, fluff if you squint

Summary: (SPOILER FOR HOGWARTS LEGACY ENDING) Seb and you apologized after he lashed out on you working with goblins.

Author's Note: I wanted to say thank you for the love I’ve gotten from my first story. I had this one in mind for a while, so I went on a writing storm. Hope you like it!

You have never seen Sebastian Sallow this angry before. His thick eyebrows knitted, blazing eyes burning through your skull. "A friendly goblin? You know goblins cursed my sister to shut her up." Sebastian spat.

It was hard to breath and think straight when the tension between the two students were unbearably thick. "Sebastian, not all goblins-"

"Have you forgotten the mine we just went through? Feldcroft?" Obviously not, there were still dirt and spider web tangled all over your robes.

"No, Seb. I haven't. You're not listening to me!" You basically pleading at this point.

"Why would I listen to someone so ignorant?" He muttered.

"Take a breath for a moment. You don't know what you're saying!"

"Oh, I know precisely what I'm saying. Unbelievable." With that sentence, Sebastian stomped away from the Undercroft.

You didn't consider yourself soft, yet you felt the tears welling up in your eyes, cheeks burning up in anger. Thank Merlin that Sebastian has left the room as you screamed your frustation out. You didn't care even if Sebastian heard you. The way he scolded you made it seemed like you were daft, which in reality was far from that. You had the weight of the world on your shoulder, with Ranrok and Rookwood chasing after you — it's not like you've asked for this either. You would rather enjoy your youth studying normal magic like normal wizards. The keepers didn't help with providing concrete answers anyways, you had to go through tenous puzzles just to uncover pieces of information about your newfound ability to see ancient magic.

On top of that, you had grown fond of your peers in Hogwarts. You have the brilliant Natty, caring Poppy, cheeky Ominis, and smart Amit. But none of them came close to Sebastian Sallow. If anybody asked, you would deny that it was love at first sight. But you couldn't forget the way he showed you 'a proper Hogwarts welcome' in the Defense Against the Dark Arts class. The fact that he covered you from detention also gave butterflies in your stomach. You took the Cruciatus Curse in the Slytherin's tomb, convincing yourself that you did it because you were in debt. In truth, you hated seeing the boy hurt. You wholeheartedly understand his desperation. Sebastian was clinging to the last member of his family. That was why you couldn't stop him from learning the Dark Arts. You thought you'd do the same in his position.

You sniffled, wiping your face using your sleeves.

It was hard enough to be in the same room with Sebastian, but what ticked you off more was that he pretended that everything was okay with other people. He helped Samantha with her potions, grabbed a book for Poppy, and even sneaked a Fwooper Feather for Garreth. You dismissed the twinge of jealousy that you felt. After all, you didn't even know if Sebastian still considered you as friends. Friends don't ignore each other for a week straight.

You quickly collected your stack of books and rushed to the library. Sitting down at one of the study table on the second floor, you burried your head in the Charms homework that you were assigned to. No use in mooning over the ungrateful Sebastian Sallow.

A red glow appeared in the corner of the page. You turned your head to the side to see Ominis, pointing his wand in your direction. "Thought we'd revise together." He smiled.

"O-oh, sure! please join me." You got up and pulled a chair for the blonde boy, guiding him to a spot in front of you.

Often times you'd wonder why Ominis and Sebastian were best of friends. Sebastian was brash, while Ominis always exuded a calming energy. Despite being a part of House Gaunt, Ominis was a gentle soul. You thought he would hate you after Sebastian showed you the Undercroft, but he quickly resolved it and considered you as a friend.

You were scribbling an essay about the usage of Silencing charm before Ominis cleared his throat, catching your attention. "Are you cross with Sebastian?"

You sighed, dipping your quill in the ink. "I think he is the one who is cross with me."

"I can sense that," he let out a light chuckle, "can't hide his emotions, that boy."

"Who cares anyways... He's better off without me." You kept writing down meaningless words before frustration took over as you slammed your quill. "Ominis, I had to do it. I was thrown into this world without any proper knowledge. I had to take any help that I can get. And I wanted to help Seb, I truly do!"

Ominis nodded, setting his palm on top of yours. "Look, I am thankful that you wanted to help Sebastian. He's my closest friend and the closest thing I have to a family," he paused, "Sebastian... is very vocal about his thoughts. I often remind him to properly think before speaking."

The Slytherin boy's face turned sour, he lowered his tone, "... and I told you about the consequences of using Dark Arts. It will corrupt you." He squeezed your hand, "He doesn't hate you. I can promise you that. The path that he is currently taking is corrupting him."

You nodded, flashing a weak smile. "Thank you, Ominis."

"You're welcome. Now, where were we?"

Threading through the hall back to your dormitory at night, you saw a shadow heading underneath the stairs. Soon after, you heard a faint click. Must be the undercroft, you'd wager. You debated for a while, yet you found yourself walking towards the clock. Raising your wand, the clock turned and opened the door towards the hidden room. You slowly walked downstairs, peeping through the gate.

There he was, Sebastian Sallow. Hair tussled, robes discarded on the empty barrel. He was wearing his shirt, the green Slytherin tie loosely tied around his neck. Sebastian rolled his sleeves as he gripped his wand and pointed it toward the battle dummy. “Incendio! Confringo! Bombarda!” shouted the boy. Fire and sparks flew everywhere, burning the wooden doll. He went for a while, releasing the pent-up anger he felt inside. Sebastian kept on going until his voice was coarse, out of breath. He backed against the nearest wall, slumping his body down.

“Sebastian?” you called up. His immediately perked up, seeing you shuffled closer to him. His breath hitched, looking away as he twirled his wand between his fingers.

The silence was awkward. You decided to break the ice, “I-“ “I wanted-“ he said at the same time. “Look, I-“ The two said in unison again. Sebastian cracked a chuckle as you giggled, feeling relieved that things are looking up.

“Let me start then,” he sighed, “I apologize for my behaviour before. You were right. I was being rude to you.” Sebastian patted the spot next to him. You obliged as you sat down. “You have been very helpful since the first time I’ve asked you to see Anne. You cheered me up when I was feeling distraught, you explored dodgy caves, and battled enemies for me,” he smiled softly, “Again, I am sorry. Not having you by my side is a torture for me.”

Warmth crept up your cheeks, thanking the universe that the Undercroft was dark enough so Sebastian couldn’t see how red your face was. “Sebastian…”

“Anne’s condition worsen by the day,” he held his wand, a faint glow flickered at the end, “I lost both of my parents. I knew from the start that my uncle didn’t like me. He called me, my father’s son, like it was a bad thing. I can’t imagine losing Anne too… I won’t have anyone else-“

Before he could finish his story, you wrapped your arms around his body, pulling him close to you. You could feel his body stiffen at first. It didn’t take long until Sebastian snaked his arms around your waist, his head resting on your chest. You rested your head on top of his, coarse strands of brunette hair tickling your chin. The smell of pines, ash, and smoke filled your nose. Sebastian closed his eyes, savouring the moment. He couldn’t remember when was the last time somebody held him so tender, so gentle. The boy started to sniffle, soft whimpers and cried escaped his lips. You didn’t care about the damp spot on your shirt, all you wanted was to assure that Sebastian that he had you, and he would always have you. You stroked his head as he held you tighter than ever.

As you heard his cries died down, reduced into small hiccups and sighs, you softly whispered, “Sebastian, I’m sorry too. I should have told you about my plans. I was scared of telling others about my secrets. I felt like I had to carry this burden myself even though you always offered to help me,” you trailed, “I hated seeing you sad. I wanted to help.”

Sebastian nodded before pulling back. Both students giggled as they saw how puffy their faces were. You cupped Sebastian’s face, wiping away his tears. “Are we okay?” you asked. He flashed a gentle smile as he rested his forehead against yours, “of course we are. Thank you.”

Everything was a blur as you felt warmth against your lips. Sebastian had closed the gap between the two of you, gently grasping your hands. Your mind went blank -- It was your first kiss. You pulled back, his half-lidded eyes searching for yours. You leaned in again, your arms found their way back around his neck. He tilted his head to the side, deepening the kiss. Giggles escaped your lips as you bumped your nose against his. Well, your knowledge of courting was as limited as the romance books stashed in the corner of the library. Deep down, you were comforted seeing how clumsy Sebastian was too.

Sebastian slowly lifted your body, your legs now straddling his waist. His calloused hands ghosted over your legs, slipping underneath your skirt. You gasped, head spinning as you felt his hands eased their way under the curvature of your bottom, fingers slipping under your undergarment. He took this chance to swipe his tongue inside, exploring your mouth. The kiss was messy, but there was an endearing charm to it.

It was too much – your hand frantically roamed around his body before finding their rest on his hair, pulling it gently. Sebastian groaned into the kiss, which sent shivers down your spine. Your waist instinctively grinded against his, finding friction to ease the growing desire bubbling in your body. You whined as he pulled back, producing a string of saliva between the two. Sebastian’s face was flushed, eyes looking at you hungrily. He dived in again, lips trailing from your forehead, nose, lips, and down to your neck. He softly nibbed your skin, earning a mewl from you. “You’re mine.” He grunted, admiring the small red hickey now adoring the side of your neck.

Before you could continue, you both heard the bells tolling. Sebastian snorted and rested his head on your shoulder. You laughed, hugging him close. “We better get going.” You felt Sebastian pulled your sleeve as you stood up.

“Promise me,” Sebastian muttered, “promise me you will always be there for me.”

“I promise.”

#Sebastian Sallow #woot woot #Ominis Gaunt #Sebastian Sallow x reader #Sebastian Sallow x f!reader #Hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic #i went on a ramble with this one #i sorri

[killxz]

Lost and Found

Pairing: Young Justice!Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

a/n: i've loved young justice since I was like 8 and i recently rewatched it again and i was disappointed that they didn't let dick or tim realise that jason was right there. so if i can't have it, imma make it. also, i've been writing on the web version of tumblr and i always make the text on my post small and i just realised that the small font on the app is miniscule 🤏🏻. so sorry to anyone who i may have given myopia to. TUMBLR STOP EATING MY DRAFTS! also don't forget to like or comment in your enjoyed! this takes place in season 3 episode 6 'Rescue Op'.

Conner broke down the door.

"This is why you don't go in unprepared." Dick mutters as you and the others rush into the prison cell. "Now, hold still." Brion and Forager grunts as Dick pulled out the control devices on the back of their necks.

"There you go, girl." Conner pats Sphere after he tore down the chains holding her in place. "You gotta figure the Shadows are on their way," You peered out of the door down the hall.

"Then let's go!" Dick orders, urging everyone out of the cell and down the dark hallway. You and the others ran down the winding paths in the dark, relying on Oracle's directions to escape the base. When Conner kicks down the final door, you see the so-called 'Sensei' some bald guy with Apokoliptian tech and a red-hooded ninja.

The group glared tensely at the trio, preparing for battle. Dick, ever the meditator, steps forward. "We just wanna leave," he says, hands up in a placating manner.

"Your trespass must be punished," Sensei declares, waving his glowing blue sword menacingly. You almost laughed. "Wrong answer." Conner growls as everyone kept into action. You faced off with the red-hooded ninja, blocking his katana slashes with your own. Somehow, this felt...familiar? It was like you fought with this person before. It almost felt like...

It's impossible, you told yourself firmly. He was dead. You just hadn't gotten over it yet. You got your head back in the game and started lashing out at the ninja with your own moves. With a clever strike, the ninja's katana clatter to the ground a few feet away. "Ha!" You exclaimed triumphantly. A bit too soon, perhaps. The ninja lunged towards you striking your blade out of your hand. You winced. "I guess we're doing this the old school way, then," you got into a defensive position. The ninja jumps towards you, aiming a punch which you blocked with your forearm, ignoring the sting that ran down your arm.

He then did something that made your blood run cold. He did a roundhouse kick , followed by a punch. Your mind was whirling. Bruce thought us that move...

Taking advantage of your distraction, he lunges towards you pinning you onto the ground under him. You yelp as your back hit the hard ground. Instinctively, you wrap your leg around his waist and rolled over, causing you to be onto of him. The ninja's hood and fallen off in your little tussle, showing a familiar head of messy black hair. You eyes widened.

It can't be... He's dead. Jason's dead.

"Jason?" You wavering voice whispered. The ninja flinched, his movements coming to an abrupt stop. With shaky hands, you reached for the mask covering his eyes, lifting it slowly. Beneath it, you see sickeningly familiar teal eyes. "Jason? B-but how? You're dead..."

"Enough." Ra's Al Ghul's voice echoed in the garden, causing all the fights happening to stop. Jason snatched the mask from your hand and put it back on, hooking his legs around yours and flipped you over, causing you to crash against the ground. Jason got off you and went to stand by his apparent master's side, leaving you shell-shocked on the ground, trying to process what had just happened. Dick rushed to your side. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?" He asked worriedly.

You could only shake your head wordlessly, your mind still too shocked to come up with coherent words.

"Well, young man, are you proud of this little debacle?" Ra's Al Ghul smirked. "I believe the detective will be quite disappointed." He glanced at Dick. Dick growled in response. "I assume you came to recover these children?" Ra's continued. "Take them and go."

"Not without my sister, Tara Markov!" Brion bellows. You smack a hand to your head. Seriously, this man has more anger issues than Conner when you, Dick, Wally and Kaldur first rescued him from Cadmus. "We know the League of Shadows has her!" He continues.

You zoned out for the rest of the conversation, your eyes locking onto somehow-resurrected Jason's form. As if he could feel your gaze on him, his head turned to your direction before turning away again.

As Ra's Al Ghul and the others engaged in a tense discussion about Tara Markov, your mind couldn't escape the overwhelming shock of seeing Jason once again. He was supposed to be dead, lost to the relentless grip of the Joker, and yet here he stood, seemingly loyal to the League of Shadows. The flood of emotions and memories rushed over you like a tidal wave.

Flashbacks of your time with Jason during his Robin days, his cheeky smile, his reckless enthusiasm, the secret, sweet moments you both shared, and the unwavering loyalty he showed to his comrades filled your mind. The pain of losing him all over again was too much to bear.

As the conversation with Ra's Al Ghul continued, you couldn't help but feel a growing sense of hopelessness. You had come to rescue Brion and the others, but now your heart ached for something else entirely. The prospect of reconciling with Jason, the possibility of bringing him back to your side again, seemed like an unattainable dream.

"Get out." the annoyed voice of Ra's snapped you out of your thoughts. As the others group together to get their bearings before they leave, you made your way to Jason, tugging on his arm to face you. "Jason..." Your voice was quiet, broken.

"Ah, it seems like you have found out who he is," Ra's chuckled. Anger rose within you as you whipped towards him. "What did you do to Jason?!"

He chuckled again, unbothered by your outburst. "Nothing, in fact, I have done you and your little Bat family a favor."

"By brainwashing him?!"

"He's not brainwashed, he's just...learning right from the beginning." Ra's shrugged.

You scoffed. "And that's supposed to be better?!" You stepped forward angrily, ready to bash in his skull. Jason grabbed your arm and shook his head silently. He tugged you away from the crowd and came to a stop behind the trees out of everyone's sight.

He took off his eye and face mask, leaving his face bare for you to see. He whispered your name, something that you have not heard in a long time, something that you used to desperately wish you would hear again. "Look," He begins. "I'm fine, okay? I'm perfectly fine-" You tug him into a fierce hug, squeezing tightly.

"You're not okay," You sniffle. "I missd you, so much..." Jason hesitantly wrapped his hands around your considerably shorter frame, squeezing lightly. "I-I missed you too," He mumbled, burying his face in your hair and pressing a kiss on the crown of your head.

You pull away, looking up at him. "Do...you think that things can go back to they once were?" You asked quietly. "There was something I didn't get to tell you, before...you died. I-"

Jason cuts you off by grabbing your chin and pulling you into a kiss. It was a tentative, cautious one, his lips as light as butterfly wings. He was waiting for you to take the initiative. You pressd your lips against his, hand snaking up to grab at the hai at the base of his neck, cuasing him to groan softly. His hands snake around your waist as he tugged you closer to him, your bodies flushed against each other,

In that moment, the world around you seemed to fade away, and the only thing that mattered was the connection you had with Jason. It was a connection that had never truly broken, no matter how much time had passed.

As the tension built between you, Jason's lips met yours in a hesitant, tender kiss. It was a kiss that held a confession of emotions too strong to be expressed in words – love, regret, longing, and the hope for a second chance.

When the kiss finally broke, you both pulled away, but your eyes remained locked onto each other's. It was a silent acknowledgment of what had just transpired – a rekindling of a connection that had been lost in the chaos of life as a vigiante.

Jason's voice was soft as he spoke, "I never thought I'd see you again."

You smiled, tears glistening in your eyes, and replied, "I never thought I'd see you again either, but I'm glad I did."

The moment was broken by Dick calling out your name. "Where are you? We gotta go!" You looked back at Jason, placing a hand on his cheek. "I'll come back for you," You whispered. "I promise."

Jason gives you a slight nod. "I'll be waiting. I...love you."

You kiss his cheek, stepping back. "I love you too, so much." You push the branchs of the tree aside, half stepping out into the light. "'I'll see you soon."

a/n: part 2? ;)

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