#while being attacked from multiple fronts

[starillusion13]

Poisoned Love

Pairing: bff! Renjun x f!reader x bff! Haechan

W.C: 10.5k

Genre: Yandere, Friends to lovers, SMUT

Warnings: Pervert! Hyuckren, Dom! Haechan, Dom! Renjun, manhandling, toxic ex, possessive, restraining acts, obsession, anonymous messages, calls, texts, gifts, threats, crying, scared, privacy invasion, gaslighting(?), pwp (don't do it sillies), oral(f. Rec.), fingering, nipply play, cum as lube, praising, sucking, biting, double-penetration, lots of kissing, anal sex, finger sucking, multiple sex scene, forgot to add anything? maybe

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY LOVE @renjunnnaaa

Network: @kvanity-main

MINORS DONT INTERACT UNDER THE POST 🔞

"I told you not to put those choco chips now. Those were supposed to be the last step." The older boy grumbled and placed the bottles on the countertop, before glaring at the younger one who started laughing all of a sudden.

"you think I have put those in the mixture?" the younger one smirked and took away a bottle from the row. The other one cursed him in his head for disturbing him at every step.

The younger leaned against the counter and pulled out his phone with a smile. He seemed too excited about what he was about to do. The older one hit his bicep and glared, "then where is it?"

"in my tummy." He said but didn't glance at the furious boy who was about to kill him with the knife beside him.

He stared at him in disbelief, "seriously?" The younger one nodded and smiled at the small screen in his hand and this made the boy beside him to snatch away his phone and was about to throw it away when they heard their house bell ringing.

It was not like usual but someone was desperately pressing the switch as if they got attacked by someone or being chased by a mad dog. Haechan, who was near the kitchen door, quickly stepped towards the grand living room and then walked towards the door. He didn't hesitate to waste any time to open the door because if the person outside was a possible threat, then the guard must have informed him about it but without any commotion from anyone, he opened the door.

Two arms wrapped around him and someone's face was pressed against his chest. The familiar touch and the soft voice calling out his name, "Haechan...." was enough to make him realize the person who was hugging him. He raised a hand and stroked her hairs while the other hand pulled her inside the door, before locking it behind him.

Renjun was standing in a distance from both of them and when he noticed the figure in his hold, his eyes went wide and quickly stepped forward, "what happened?" he patted her back and caressed her to calm her down because she was too scared of something and clutching the younger male's shirt tightly in her hold.

"y/n...tell me what happened?" Haechan whispered the words, not wanting to raise his voice higher than that volume. You didn't pull apart when he tried to look at your face so he guided you to the sofa and made you sit with him. Renjun stood in front of you with folded hands. When he noticed a maid passing by the stairs, he called her and asked her to prepare the cake from where they had left. She obligingly nodded and went towards the kitchen and his attention was again brought back to you when you spoke up.

Pulling yourself away from Haechan, you took deep breaths and bit your lip. He brushed your hairs back and pulled your face up by your chin and noticed your tear strained cheek and red eyes with red plump lips because of your habit of biting lips in nervousness, "tell me, y/n. Is it the same reason?"

He knew. Both of them knew. Renjun scoffed as soon as you nodded. The way you were scared and nervous, they were more furious. It's getting too much. They can't let you live like this with the same thing repeating without any trace of stop from the other end of causing this mishap.

"Heachan, we need to stop this. She has already been through so much and now..." the younger one nodded at his words and smiled at you while patting your head, "how about you freshen up? You look like a mess. You already have so many things, even a room for yourself so go upstairs. We will be there soon."

Renjun extended his palm for you to grab and you did it. Looking at his face, he was smiling all the way when you stood up and turned towards Haechan and exchanged soft smiling goodbyes, just to leave for your supposed room. Renjun was holding your hand as if you were the fragile doll, well to him you were, his precious angel. He always reminds you that even if your status doesn't match with his and Haechan, you will always be their bestfriend, his angel.

Leaving you inside the room, he jogged to where Haechan was.

Looking around the room, you felt like you were at home. Well, you feel safer here than being at your apartment all alone. They have asked you to move in with them so many times but your common phrase that you don't want to be a burden to them makes them irritated. Well, not really. They appreciate your choices and decisions but not when you are living out there scared of the shit going on in your life recently.

Taking the necessary things from the drawer for a shower and then when you opened the closet, you were surprised. There were a lot of dresses, each of them being your favorites but there were only a few last time. It must be because they bought all of these because of your nearing birthday. You shook your head, chuckled and stepped inside the bathroom.

Meanwhile, the two boys were preparing everything to take along with them to your room. For the dinner, they opt to have it with you in your room and their maids arrange it in the way to their liking.

Renjun didn't allow anyone to enter your room so he took the trays and entered the door. Haechan was carrying other necessary stuff like extra pillows and water bottles.

"Hey! Are you fine?" He greeted you with a warm hug after putting all the stuff on the couch. Renjun placed the tray on the center table and turned towards you two. "So, what should we do now? What about movies?"

You pulled apart from the hug to reply to the standing male beside the table, "um...I don't want to bother you two if you have something to do but......thanks for letting me come here."

"y/n, we have said this before. You are our best-friend and it's natural for you to come here. Even we asked you to stay here to move in but you are the one not listening to us." Renjun stepped towards you before saying those words and cupped your face to plant a kiss on your forehead. "Come on. Hop on the bed."

"Let's have our time, forgetting all those negativities. Just let it be how you are feeling with us." Haechan said and brought a spoonful of cake to your lips.

"I can eat." You chuckled but he shook his head and urged you to open your mouth, "no, tell me how is the cake? I made it for you."

"you knew I was coming?" you were surprised.

Renjun shook his head, "No. we would have sent you the cake as a surprise and I made the batter for the whole process and he had just put it in the microwave without choco chips."

Haechan glared at him when he continued spilling what the younger one was doing since evening. Your laughter filled the room with their giggles while moving from one topic to another.

For a moment, you forgot what was the reason you came knocking at their door.

Their actions were too sweet. Always, they treat you tenderly. As if you are a porcelain doll to them, making you feel like one of the sophisticated items from their household. Skinship is very normal between you three, not in a weird way but hugging, cuddling with each other or kissing the other one for reassurance regarding a thing is common. Mainly, you are the one who receives kisses from both of them a lot. You are the one who kisses when you are joking with them a lot and also, they are missing your funny side when you are so quiet today.

Scooting towards the bed frame, you sit in between them and notice the double toned hair boy to place the tray in front of you. Haechan pulled you to his side when he noticed you zoning out and rubbed your arms, "do you want to talk about it?"

You blinked and turned towards him, "why is he doing this?"

He hummed and nodded to himself, "knew he was crazy for you. You thought of him as the perfect boyfriend but look when you found out his real intention, he is pulling off this shit." He hugged you and kissed the side of your head, "but it's okay. We are here to keep you safe."

"I know. You are here, both of you but what if he does something more? What if he tries to harm both of you." You clutched his wrist which was around your collarbone.

Renjun sat in his place beside you and smiled while patting your legs, "he won't. you know, no one can do anything to us, so stop thinking about that shithead and let's enjoy our time."

Yeah. Why are you still thinking about him? it's just going to make you feel more stressed and then scared to be alone. Well, should you say something that's been bugging your mind since afternoon. You wanted to say this for the last few days but your hesitation and what if... you don't know what to think more but you just want to stay closer to someone who feels like family.

"I want to move in with you here."

>>>><<<<

You once had a family, a nice one but the sudden storm in your life snatched everything from you. Your teenage life and your happiness, everything was gone but these two met you at the park in the colony changed your life. Of course, it was nowhere near your mediocre environment but that day after having your part time job, you were strolling around the streets when you stumbled to the grand exposure to the park with a huge garden. The place belongs to all the luxurious apartments and their wealthy owners.

You were just crying to yourself when a boy extended a handkerchief towards you. "Haechan." That was the only introduction he had with you. When you hesitated and tried to stand up and look away, the one named Renjun pushed you down lightly and held your hands, "hey...what happened?"

Their soothing voices, warm lingering touches and soft smiles made you let your heart out to them. Since that day, you somehow bumped into each other a lot. Them arriving at your café, or pulling up in front of the university in a luxury car. Everything was surprising to you. You didn't want so much attention on you or never wanted to live like a wealthy person but you wanted to stay with people who will be close to you.

Honestly, the apartment where you stay is the one these two helped you to buy so that you don't have to stay in that previous old and rusted area. You were so happy that, with an affordable rent and two friends supporting you was enough to motivate you to move forward. They were literally a blessing in your life and your gloomy days were soon turning into the bright ones.

Not long enough after having those happy days with your two new best friends, comes your school crush, rather your childhood best friend, Wooyoung. The way your eyes went wide when you noticed him standing at your university gate with Bouquet of red roses and him dressed up in a black leather fit. You instantly ran up to him and hugged around his neck whispering, "I missed you, woo."

"I missed you too, baby."

And then you shared your whole life story with each other at a restaurant where he invited you for his success. He finally got his father's business position and now moving to this new city, he got to know about you from a common friend.

The daily meetups and the reunion of the friendship blooms into a new stage of bonding. The kindle of love. He was the first one to approach you with the proposal and to both of your surprises, you accepted it quickly. Why not? He was always the one to care for you, to be there for you and now, to love you. You are more than blessed to have three of them with you in your life.

But, as we know, the happy days don't last long enough. It's been six months you were dating Wooyoung, and once, Renjun suddenly told you that your boyfriend seems a bit unusual to him. you let him be assured that you know your boyfriend for too long and he can't be bad. He just nodded and smiled at you.

It was early in the morning that you woke up, all smiles and in a terribly good mood. You didn't have your university classes to attain so it was not a big deal to spend your day as a lazy one. You were in the middle of making yourself lunch when the doorbell rang. You quickly rinsed your hands and wiped them on your apron before going to open the door.

There was no one but when you were about to close it, there was a gift box and a rose Bouquet with a letter attached to it. You were hesitating to pick it up and noticed your name written on the red card with a silver glittery ink. Closing the door behind you, you placed yourself on the sofa with the gifts.

'Dear y/n,

You seem so happy and lively every day. Is it because of me? I think so. Well, I am sure it must be the reason. Who else is going to keep you happy like me?

Let's not talk about this surprise when we meet. I want to see you blushing while remembering my gifts. You can do this for me, right?

I love you so much.

From unknown (your love)'

"Unknown? Wooyoung is really weird sometimes and I love you too." You kissed the letter before sliding it on the table top and inhaled the sweet smell which was already spreading across your room from the flowers in your hold. Deciding a nice place for them, you picked it up and put it in the vase. The gift box had a ring inside it with one more letter telling you how perfect and beautiful you would look with it.

As he told you, you kept it a secret from him. Every day, you received many gifts from him and never for once, you raised the topic about the gifts.

. .

One day when you were holding hands and returning to your apartment, you suddenly blurted out, "Thank you, Woo."

he was surprised, "for what?"

oh, you almost mentioned the gifts, "for...for everything, Woo. Thank you."

He turned you around to face him and kissed your lips, "Thanks to you too for accepting my love."

Who knew after that day, your life was about to change.

He texted you the next day that he was going for some business programs with his dad to a different country and he won't be able to meet you for how long he doesn't know and even though you were sad, you texted him back with enthusiasm and being a supportive girlfriend, you appreciated his work.

It was afternoon and you knew the timing, his gifts. But he was not there, then?

You opened the door, greeting with a teddy bear and chocolates.

'Sorry, y/n. I know you are missing me but for the compensation. Here, a gift for you.'

You smiled while happily taking the teddy bear to your room.

But later in the day, you got more letters and more flowers and these ones were not the usual ones like other days. Now, everyday your excitement for the gifts were turning into a nightmare. It was about pure obsession.

The letters were all about questions related to why you were wearing the dress to the restaurant, why you are not going to the university or why you are still in your bed and not eating properly. How the hell does he know about this? You were scared and the closest person to share this was your two best friends.

"Are you sure, that's him?" Renjun asked you the question for the third time and exchanged looks with Haechan who was equally stressed like you. They were so annoyed with the fact that someone or rather your boyfriend was invading your privacy. Even when you were throwing away some letters without reading, he dared to threaten you. He even sent pictures of you doing your chores in your apartment.

"Who else would do that? It's clear that he is the one who knows everything about me. He is my boyfriend and it clearly mentions that whatever the person is telling or doing is for the lover. In some he even mentioned himself as my boyfriend and who else will know that he is out of town?"

Haechan patted your back, "it's okay, y/n. calm down for me. we will find a solution to it. We won't allow him to do anything anymore."

"I'm scared...what if he tries to do something more."

"You should break up." You looked up quickly towards Renjun hearing his words. He was staring at you as if he expected your sudden gaze on him. He raised a brow at you and you felt defeated when you didn't know what to reply to him. you should break up then what else is holding you back.

Well, the idea of breaking up was the only option that seemed right when after a few days, you got a call from Wooyoung, "y/n! have you received my gift?"

Gift. The word was so endearing and loving from his mouth but to you it was a curse. You nodded as if he could see you, well all those pictures, then he might see you right? You have searched for the hidden cameras and all with your best friends, but nothing you could find, then how?

"I want words, y/n. don't just nod."

Your eyes went wide and quickly you cut the call and threw it on the bed. How?

He called you again and again but you didn't pick up, you kept staring at the phone.

A message popped up in your phone,

'hey! I didn't mean to scare you. I thought you were nodding because I got the mail it had delivered.'

'I'm sorry, love.'

'Please tell me. Do you like it?'

Didn't mean to scare you......

You stared at the gift box in front of you. Didn't bother to open it but you texted him like usual 'yes' with emojis. He was too happy because of the way his next messages were flooding in your inbox.

.

.

.

It started to feel suffocated and exposed in your own apartment and your two best friends repeatedly inviting you to stay at their place. Yes, you gladly accepted it and started to spend most of the days at their house. Sometimes, having sleepovers and movie nights or you all going together for short trips for half of the day. Renjun showed you his recent paintings dedicated to you. You couldn't really decipher the meanings behind each of his paintings but still you liked it because his hard work behind it was showing.

Haechan learned some new recipes to cook for you and honestly, most of the time, he made a mess of them. Still, the love for you was showing in the work.

These two were actively keeping your mind off from the incidents happening back at your apartment.

Renjun was driving you to your apartment when he offered you again, "why don't you move in with us? It will be safe and easier for you."

"no. I don't want to be a bother. I should talk with him. Why is he doing this with me?  Hope, it can solve the problem." you looked down on your lap.

"and you think he will? Will he leave you after that? He is obsessed with you. His obsessions are clearly showing. A healthy relationship is not like this. when there's still time. Come out of it."

He pulled the car in front of your apartment and you nodded, "I will think about this. Thank you, Jun."

He nodded and patted your head, planting a kiss to the side, "take care and be safe. Call me or Haechan if it's too much."

You exited his car with a smile but your smile soon disappeared when you reached your doorstep. Again, those flowers and letters.

And this time a message popped up in your phone from an unknown id,

'How was the trip, love? Did you enjoy it? Are you missing me?'

You were so scared that you quickly dialed Renjun's number and he was quick enough to reach your location and engulfed you in a hug.

"It's okay. I am here. Don't be scared."

When he asked you for the keys, you shook your head. You didn't want to enter the door and whispered to him to take you somewhere else. And he did. He listened to your pleading, he himself didn't want to leave you there alone. So, he drove you to a cliff where you love the most to spend time talking about your life. This is the place where only three of you come often.

When you reached the place, you were surprised to see Haechan with a white leather jacket and Black jeans standing, leaning against his bike and you exited the car, only to run towards him, "Haechan..."

"Baby...are you okay?" his voice was soothing just like other times. His tone becomes sweeter when he speaks to you. He really treats you like a baby.

And the next day how you ended up at their doorstep, finally having too much of the threats and scared that he might pull up something more crazy.

They blocked his number and shifted all your things from the apartment to their house. Even, they managed to change your university classes to online. Haechan even bought you a new phone with a new number so that you don't have to feel scared of him texting you again.

Was it all over? Or something more crazy was supposed to happen?

>>>><<<<

It's been over six months, you are staying with them in their house, which they make you feel assured to think of yours too. But something, you did notice. Their skinship with you. The tension between you when either of them is too close to you. Why? You have a boyfriend. Well, maybe you had.

Then, what's this they are trying to show you? Trying to make you feel.

You were standing beside Haechan who was beside you cutting vegetables because last night, he decided to learn to make you a new meal which a lover should try to impress their crush.

"So, am I your crush?" you asked him and raised your brow when he blushed and turned away.

He shook his head while washing the knife, "keep quiet. I am doing something important. Don't distract me."

"So, am I your distraction?" you neared him and stepped beside him, leaning against the counter. "Tell me."

He glanced at you before placing the knife to the side and with a quick move, he caged you between his arms, trapping you between the counter and his body.

"Haechan..." you gasped because of his sudden action.

"Ask me the question again." his breath was near you, fanning your lips. His soft voice yet a tone of demanding was enough to make your breaths heavy. You averted your eyes away when he grabbed your jaw, "look at me and ask the question."

His lips were almost touching yours and the only thing that was crossing your mind was to kiss him. Why? You don't know. But you wanted to.

"Kiss me." you whispered the words, your mind going blank and your hands clutching the marble edge of the counter, nails colliding against the slippery surface and you bit your lower lip.

"Fuck, I would've never thought you wanted me in the same way I wanted you," he took your hand and pulled you towards him so your bodies were pressed together more. "So you are attracted to me too?" He whispers low in your ear, making your breath hitch.

"Well, I guess-"

"A direct one word answer is what I want." he cut you off, nibbling on your earlobe. "Are you enjoying this, y/n?"

"Yes," you answered him, finally relaxing in his arms. you held onto his shoulder to prevent yourself from collapsing, your knees feeling weak at his touch. "I love you."

He continued peppering your neck with soft wet kisses, his breaths fanning over it. You tilted your head to allow him more access. You placed a hand on his chest, then began to untuck his black shirt, both hands starting to roam under it.

His lips pulled your lips into a kiss, a soft sensual one. Never in a while, you thought to be like this with him and even going further into it.

At the same time, he was busy moving his hands up and down your sides, still moving his lips with the rhythm of yours. He grunted when your soft hands met his bare skin, his heart beating erratically. Tongues intertwining and hands roaming each other's bodies. You tugged his shirt eagerly and he helped you to take it off before throwing it away, he stopped you when you were pulling your shirt.

He wanted to do it on his own. He wanted to see you on his own.

He separated his mouth for a few seconds so he could take your shirt off. You admired his bare tanned chest and abs, not being able to keep your hands off him. He went to pull your pants off.

"Fuck...you are driving me crazy." He smirked and you were nervously looking at the door to see if anyone would accidentally see you in that position with him."don't worry, no one is at home. Not even Renjun."

Before you could say a word, he again dominated your mouth once again, making your mind go blank. His hands traveled to your ass, squeezing it. You moaned into the kiss, grinding against his still clothed hard-on. "Fuck, you're so hot," he grunted, gripping your ass harder. "He had this all to himself. Lucky bastard."

"I didn't fuck him." You whispered.

"Then am I the first one?" He smirked and held your chin upward. You nodded and shyly looked at him. "Words y/n.." he pecked your lips.

"Yes, Haechan. You are the first one. Please do something."

He lifted you by your thighs and placed you on the counter. You gasped when your lower half came in contact with the cold surface. He crouched down to kiss your belly. Your chest heaved up and down in anticipation as you felt his touch, trailing kisses starting from your ankle and going higher. you began squirming when the soft lingering touch of his lips reached your inner thigh. "Hae-Haechan..." your breathing labored.

He poked his tongue out to trace the edges of your underwear, dangerously close to your heat, but avoided the spot on purpose just to tease you a little longer. He is a tease and he is even proving it to you in this situation.

your hand grabs at his hair, the other gripping the edge of the counter. "please, stop teasing me," you whined, getting more and more frustrated.

He removed your panties with his teeth, staring up at your face, twisted in frustration. "God, I can't get enough of your look. You are perfect, y/n."

Your knuckles start hurting from the tight grip you had on the counter but it's the only thing that's keeping your grip strong because your grip on all other senses has been lost completely. Is it right to do this with your best-friend? But your body betrays you with the excitement building inside. You feel yourself attracted to him but...

You were distracted when you didn't notice that he parted your heated lips and inserted his index finger inside your lips, making you let out a choked up moan. It glided in easily, emitting a squelching sound as wetness surrounds it.

"Haechan, we should stop this. This is not right." you breathed out, sounding almost as if you were in pain.

Haechan, too preoccupied with his task, didn't even acknowledge your plea; he adds a second finger, watching how they get swallowed up by your heat. He began a scissoring motion, feeling your walls pulse around them.

" Fuck, Haechan...that- that's...more please" you cried out when you felt his thumb press on your sensitive clit. you breathe heavily, your skin sticky with sweat, legs shaking and fingers going numb from the grip on the marbled counter-top.

"I will give you more, baby." he kissed your belly and  nuzzled his face, his breath tingling against your hot skin. "Let's have the fun. I will give you everything, I promise."

When he couldn't take the insistent throbbing of his cock anymore, he stood and made quick work of lowering his pants and boxers. you whimpered at the loss of his fingers. He held your thigh with one hand and grabbed his length with the other, rubbing the tip against your wetness. "Tell me how much you want it, baby," he demanded and slid his cock against your clit.

"Want it so bad, need it, Haechan, please fill me up," you panted, swerving your hips.

"I want you too. So bad. My filthy girl. My princess is going to be mine." he unclasped your bra and quickly plopped a nipple in his mouth. You moaned out his name and grabbed his hair, his grunts vibrating against your skin. When he heard your plea to stop again, he chuckled against your chest while still licking and sucking your nipples, "don't fight yourself, princess. You know you want this. I know you want this. He couldn't have given you this like me." he bit your skin near the collarbone, "fuck...he should not have come into our life. I would have gotten you sooner."

your back arched off the countertop when the tip slipped in and he simultaneously groaned in delight. He pushed the rest in slowly, filling you up as promised. He leaned over your body to press his lips to your neck and leave wet kisses.

Both of your hands were buried into his hair, making it messier than it already was. He pulled away and pulled you a little closer to the edge by your thighs. you gasped and grabbed at the edge again to stabilize yourself. He pulled you in for a passionate kiss and he moaned into the kiss feeling you clenching around him. Your tears strained your face and this time, it made him smile because you were not crying because of that shit and his threats but because of him and his sweet tortures on your sensitive parts.

He gave you no warning before he pulled out, only leaving the tip in, and pushing back in.

he grunted, feeling the squeeze of those tight warm walls around him. "Shit," he swore, staring at your figure. His hands went up to squeeze your breasts and fickle your nipples, igniting your senses and making your body react to his touches more.

"You," Haechan praised, pushing in, "are...so...sexy" Each word was punctured with a powerful thrust, knocking the breath out of you beneath him.

His movements gradually started to get faster, his hands gripping your hips. He slowed down to put your legs over his shoulders and held on to your thighs instead, thrusting harder, reaching deep inside your warmth. "Haechan!" you clawed at his back, letting out lewd moans that mix with the sound of skin slapping on skin. he pecked your lips and smirked.

"Ah- Yeah, baby, scream my name! Let me hear you who's fucking you this good," He said in between thrusts.

"Haechan, yes, fuck me!" you repeated his name insistently, overcome with ecstasy.

he rolled his hips, grunting in pleasure each time. His tongue glided across his lower lip as he watched you with hooded eyes. Haechan moaned when your walls clamped down on his cock, pulsing around him, tightening and squeezing."Fuck!"

"y/n, so, so good, you are doing so good I'm so close, fuck!" your vision went white as you hit your high, body spasming with aftershocks and toes curling while your hips keep moving against his.

your orgasm along with your blissful facial expression triggered his own, causing him to release hot, sticky spurts of cum. He pulls out and jerks off over you, more coming out to paint your lower stomach.

he pressed an affectionate kiss on your leg that was still over his shoulder. "God, that was awesome," he breathed, running a hand through his sweaty black hair.

He helped you sit up comfortably before pulling you in for a heated kiss, your arms going around his broad shoulders. you sighed in satisfaction, softly dragging your nails down his naked back.

He bit your bottom lip in return, hands roaming your thighs. "Good?" Haechan asked you after pulling away. you nod in agreement, "all good."

He pulled his pants back up and stepped back to collect your disposed dress. He carefully dressed you back in your clothes, leaving the inner wears still on the floor. You didn't bother to wear it as you were going to shower anyways.

He kissed your cheek and you blushed, "I can't believe we just did that on my kitchen counter..." you hid your face in the crook of his neck. "but..I...it feels so wrong."

"Why?" He hugged your body and kissed your head. You murmured against his bare skin, "we are best friends and this feels so wrong...we are not even dating..."

"Will you let me be your boyfriend?" he pulled back to look at your face. Your surprised expression earned a chuckle and a kiss on your tip of the nose from him. You asked him softly, "are you serious?"

He nodded and pressed his forehead to yours, "yes. I am. Will you?"

"Y-yes. I can try."

He pressed his lips to you and whispered, "I promise I will treat you better than him. I love you."

."I love you too, Haechan."

.

.

The sun shone brightly on the two figures lying comfortably in bed. Haechan blinked his eyes open and stretched, accidentally waking you up. you gently placed your hand on his cheek, caressing it slowly. You were still in disbelief after the last event.

"Good morning," he greeted in a gruff sleepy voice. The sound of his low voice made your cheeks heat up slightly as you smiled back at him with a greet. you both giggled and cuddled closer; your activities from the last evening had you both glowing in happiness and excitement.

"Sleep well, baby?" Haechan, stroking your hair. "hm, best sleep I've had in a while." you offered a small smile but he frowned. "What do you mean 'in a while'? Have you not been sleeping well?" He asked, concerned.

"It's not that... I just slept better since you were next to me," you buried your face in his chest in order to hide your embarrassment.

.

.

.

Well that was not the end, even though you started dating Haechan. You could see Renjun was in a bit of a sour mood recently. Snapping at Haechan every now and then and sometimes, he even glares at you for no reason.

"Y/n...are you busy?" Renjun was standing at your doorstep, you plugged out your earphones and sat up properly and patted the place beside you. You shook your head and smiled, "no. I'm just chilling. Haechan said he will be coming home late. Why, do you need something?"

He stepped forward and locked the door behind him. Your eyes went wide in surprise, "Renjun?"

He chuckled and noticed a photo frame on a shelf beside him, you and Haechan smiling brightly at the camera. He himself clicked that picture for you two. He had also clicked a picture with you but why not he is there as well? Oh, beside it there is another picture but all three of you smiling, you in between staring at the camera and them staring at you.

"How are you and Haechan doing?" His slow steps made your heart beat fast. Your breath heaving with his low voice and chuckles in between his questions. You gulped and scooted towards the bed frame.

You managed to smile, "we are fine."

He placed himself beside you and scanned your body, in shorts and a short tee. You are really a tease. He thought to himself and his gaze darkened with the thought that you are dating his step-brother. You tried to move away from him when he held your wrist and pulled you in front, "where are you going?"

"no..I'm not going anywhere."

"Am I not good for you?" his dark voice and the tight grip on your wrist didn't let you avert your eyes away. He curled a lock of yours between his fingers and traced your face, "speak...angel. I know you can use your words." he kissed the tip of your nose and smiled.

"Yes, you are good." you breathed out the words. He pulled your ankles and wrist together towards him, a slow tug upwards made you sit on his thigh. Your legs folded by your knees and resting on either side of his leg.

"You know, haechan is not the only one who loves you in the way you are attracted to him." he leaned and whispered in your ears, "you don't know how bad I want you angel. I want to ruin the innocence of you." his breath tickling your earlobe and his teeth grazing over your back of the ears, where he pressed a kiss and trails down wet and sloppy kiss downwards to your neck and throat.

"R-Renjun...stop.."

He darkly chuckled in your ears and pulled apart to stare at your scared face, the look he is used to seeing because of the past incident of your obsessive boyfriend. He grabbed your wrist to bring your hand to his chest and leaned forward, "you didn't tell him to stop. And, look, do you feel the heart? That's beating for you my love."

"What do you mean?"

"I love you, y/n...please...I love you so much."

he pulled down the straps of your red tee, slipping them off your shoulders, unclipping the bra with one swift click and kissing the skin there. He moved lower to nip at your collarbones and you curled your hands above his chest, arching forward. He helped you slip your arms out, then proceeded to pull the fabric low enough along with your bra to expose your breasts. His head descended down to take a nipple into his mouth, making it harden as he swirled his tongue around it, gently toying with the other between two fingers. you squirmed, your chest rising and falling with every breath you took.

"Renjun, please..."

"It doesn't take much to have you begging, huh?" He teases, making you whine in response, "I'll have you begging even more in a minute, love."

Renjun kissed his way down your stomach, using his hands to pull down your shorts to reveal your panties. He pushed your knees apart, causing you to gasp in surprise. He pushed you down on the bed, your head hitting softly against the mattress. He traced his lips at the edge of your underwear, staring up at you with desire in his eyes; your reactions will never cease to entrance him. Them.

Your hands tightened in his hair, tugging at it softly as Renjun continued to tease you, softly nibbling at your thighs near the edges of your panties. he hooked his fingers through it and pulled it down your legs, taking it off and dropping it to the floor, leaving you bare apart for the tee bunched up at your waist.

your hands slipped out of his hair as Renjun scooted further down the bed, placing your legs over his shoulders. He kissed your inner thighs, tracing his tongue along your sweet skin before going even lower. you let out a loud gasp and your fingers twisted into the sheets when he licked at your heat. legs trembling with every contact of his tongue made with your clit. He held tightly onto your thighs, pressing his pointed tongue against your swollen clit in a teasing manner and flicking the little bud.

You were practically crying when Renjun pressed his tongue inside of you, slightly parting your walls. He looked up, seeing your face twisted in pleasure, panting and moaning as he thrusted his tongue inside your heat. He used one of his hands to rub your clit with his thumb and you whined loudly, trying to push your hips back against him.

"I want to cum," you stutter out, thrashing your head from side to side.

Renjun stopped all his movements to look up at you, "What's the magic word, baby?"

"Please," you begged, your hands pushing his head down. you couldn't take it anymore. you were so fucking close to the edge, you barely needed a push to reach your peak.

"You are so perfect, y/n."

He chuckled before diving back down to accomplish his task: he slurped and licked vigorously, swirling his tongue and flicking your most sensitive nerve. He pinned your hips to the bed to keep you from moving too much as he worked closer to orgasm. Renjun knew you wanted to cum before it even happened: the legs on his shoulders tighten around him and shake with the force of your climax, sending you crashing down.you pulled hard at his duo toned hair.

Soon after, your body turns slack, as if melted into a puddle. He kissed your inner thigh then your belly button and continued all the way up to your chest. He didn't waste any time removing the pant, throwing it to the side, he slowly pulled up his shirt above his head and your eyes locked at his chest, Renjun softly nips at the soft and supple skin of your neck, tasting the sweetness of it, inhaling the scent.

your hands held onto his broad shoulders and your nails dragged down his back when he finally pushed inside you, burying himself in your tight heat. He rolled his hips gently, enjoying the burning pleasure you brought to him.

"Y/n." He moaned in a low voice. you held onto him tighter, pushing back against him, trying to meet his gentle movements.

Renjun's hands roamed your body, caressing every curve of your form, leaving goosebumps in their wake. your breathing was erratic, heartbeat beating fast and loud in your own ears.

you could barely handle the way he was holding you close and making those erotic sounds right next to your ear. sweat slick bodies move in harmony, pushing and pulling, biting and scratching, lost in a flame of passion.

Renjun nipped softly at your throat then at your chin and finally your lips. He rubs your noses together affectionately and giggle at the sweet gesture.

No words were exchanged as you stared into each other's eyes, in the middle of your own little world, the only important thing being one another.

Renjun lowered your legs to around his waist and accelerated the cadence of his movements, already sensing you were close by the way you were gripping him even tighter.

The rhythm turned sloppy as you both chased pleasure, rocking against each other, holding on before finally letting go, flying high before spiraling down together and drowning in pure bliss. The heavy breathing fills the otherwise silent room and sweet kisses were exchanged along with soft touches.

Renjun hid his flushed face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent and letting his body relax but not resting his weight on you. He couldn't get his heart to slow down; the proximity and your delicate touch were almost too much for him to handle.

"Angel," he called breathlessly, snuggling into you underneath him, "I love you," he finally said. Laying on his side, he traced your face with his index finger, from your closed eyelids to your cheek to the bridge of your nose, admiring every detail of your angelic face.

The only response he got was your soft breathing.

Renjun smiled to himself, closing his eyes and drifting into a deep sleep beside you, holding onto you tightly in his embrace.

>>>><<<<

"I'm sorry, Haechan." you were practically crying while hugging the boy in front of you and no matter how many times he did ask you about the reason, you were just clinging onto him and crying because of what you did last night.

He pulled you on his lap and rocked you in his embrace, "shh...baby tell me, what happened?" he kissed your head, "did he contact you again?" you shook your head and buried your head into his chest. "Then is it about, Renjun?"

You quickly looked up to him. Does he know what you did last night? He really answered your question as if he could read your mind.

"I know what happened yesterday." he combed your hair back and traced the purple and red marks on your skin around the neck and the exposed body parts. "If you are thinking, I'm angry with you. No, I'm not."

"Haechan?"

He smiled and pressed his lips to your temple, "I love you, princess. He loves you too. We both know our weakness for you. Because of this, we decided to have you as ours. But we were doubtful about you. How you will react and after yesterday. I'm sure you don't have a problem accepting him." he pecked your lips, and whispered into it, "Do you have a problem with this?"

"But this is wrong."

He chuckled and grabbed your neck softly, yanking your head back soft enough not to hurt you, his gaze darkened but quickly vanished with a smile appearing on his face, "you are doing no wrong, baby. This is what you want."

You were staring at his face. His words and his actions were more dominant than other days. As if he was punishing you for your deeds with his brother but also, holding back himself because that's the thing he wanted too. Or rather agreed to.

"I promised you. I would keep you safe and would protect you from everything then, why are you so afraid?" he leaned to your ear and said in a low voice, "Be brave, be strong, but take it easy. No rush baby. I know you got this."

"I love you, Haechan." you murmured and he kissed your earlobe, humming in satisfaction before returning to your lips. " You know I love you so much, right princess?" he pressed his lips to you and pulled your hair back to kiss your throat and left behind sucking on the spots.

You nodded and he asked you softly, "you will let Renjun join now?" you nodded and your mind was going blank under his sweet tortures of his mouth and hands roaming around your body. Your groans when he was pulling your hair earned chuckles from him.

He took his time teasing you, biting and nibbling and licking every sensitive part of your body, teasing you relentlessly until you were a hot whimpering mess.

You heard the door creaked open and noticed Renjun walking in, his eyes filled with lust and hunger for you. His each slow and cautious step made you squirm under Haechan's hold. He reached near the bed and pulled his belt around from the waist and tied your hands together to prevent you from moving them. your hands were by the top of your head.

"Renjun...why?" your voice was not recognisable, whether you were asking or pleading to him. He leaned forward, placing his palm on the mattress and smirked, "I haven't touched you yet but still you are begging."

Haechan pushed your top upwards revealing your body bare underneath. He quickly leaned down to trail wet kisses on your stomach, chest and flicking the nipples with his fingers and swirling the other one with tongue. Most of your body was already littered in little dark marks left by him. you squirmed as he continued his slow tortures, claiming you with love bites.

"I want you to do exactly as I say. Got it?" Haechan said in between kisses, looking at you expectantly afterwards. You nodded and when you tried to bring your hands down, Renjun caught them and glared, "did I tell you to move them?"

You shook your head frantically and whined, "No." Renjun discarded his pants and shirt, only in his boxers placed himself on the other side of you to claim your lips, holding your tied up wrist in place and other hand twirling the hardened nipples.

Haechan sat on his knees and palmed himself over the sweatpants and stared at you both. "Good girl. Now, spread your legs for me."

You did as told, spreading your legs with little resistance. He bit his lip at the sight, getting turned on. "Damn, that's hot," he gets on top of you, pressing himself against you. Your breathing stopped for a split second when both of them were right in front of you.

"You are ours, y/n. No one can take you away from us." Renjun said and kissed your cheek.

Haechan placed a light kiss on your nose, cheek then chin before descending lower.

"Please..." Upon hearing you beg, Haechan wasted no more time before diving into your heat, slipping in one finger and then followed by another. He made sure you were enjoying yourself by watching your facial expressions, grinding against the mattress at the same time to relieve his erection.

Your fingers clenched, twisting and crumpling the sheets when Renjun suddenly intertwined your pinned hands with his, your thighs squeezing around Haechan's hand involuntarily, the pleasure driving you almost wild. your breathing comes out in little gasps and your chest heaves up and down as Renjun continues flicking your most sensitive bud in hard circles, his tongue gliding easily across it. you could feel the familiar fire in the pit of your lower stomach blazing up. Just as it's about to explode, Haechan comes to an abrupt stop.

"Why?" you managed to whine through your heavy breathing.

"I like teasing you, baby. I like seeing you desperate and begging for my touch. Princess, you look so hot tied up like this, under my control. God, I wish you could see yourself from my eyes." you rubbed and squeezed your thighs together to ease the throbbing between the legs.

Haechan's dirty words, Renjun's manhandling, their rough voices and the animalistic looks in their eyes were making you feel things you never felt before. They were going crazy for you. The girl they dreamt of having for themselves was under their watch, their control, squirming and begging for them.

"I could just watch you all day." Renjun said and inhaled your scent from the crook of your neck and Haechan pulled down his boxers and took his erection in his hand, staring at you as he slowly moved his hand along his length.

Renjun continued whispering to you, he was enjoying watching you squirm and beg under his hold, "yes, angel. You are doing so good for us."

"Please, I can't! Make me cum..." you could hear the sound of him jerking off and making you even more desperate; they were free to do whatever they wanted while you had to take whatever they gave you.

"Aww, is my baby getting impatient?" The male above you smirked as he sees this and intentionally lets out loud groans, "Fuck..." He could hear you whining and the face you made looked like you were in pain. Renjun starts thrusting into his tight first, dangerously close to the edge. He bit his lower lip and forced himself to stop.

"Tell him what you want, angel."

"Fuck me. Ruin me, make me cum," you begged. you had never been more desperate in your entire life than in this very moment.

Haechan leaned over your body to leave more hickeys on your neck. "Mmh, baby is so wet for me," he said, running his fingers through your folds. He aligned himself with your heat and rubbed his length on your clit. You trembled at the sensation, trying to get him closer to you by wrapping your legs around his waist.

Haechan held onto your thighs to bring you closer and easily inserted himself inside your heat. You both moaned in unison as he pushed in slowly and dragged his cock back out before pushing back in and repeating. "Fuck."

None of your senses seemed to be working as you continued whining loudly and thrashing your head with your eyes closed, paying no attention to the almost crazed look on their faces.

"Baby, so good. Fuck, You are a poison to my mind. A sweet poison." He pronounced every word with a hard thrust, making it difficult for you to speak; you couldn't focus on anything around you, too overwhelmed by all the different sensations taking over your body. you pulled at the leather belt, nails digging into the palms of Renjun's hands.

The said man cursed in your ear, he quickly held himself up and spread his cum on your chest.

The man above you slowed down to a complete stop, making your eyes shot open. "Stop doing that, damn it!" you yell out in frustration.

you suddenly gasped in surprise when Haechan spanked your asscheek. "I'm in control here so I do as I please. Disrespect me again and I will leave you on the edge." With wide eyes, you nod frantically at the seriousness in his voice. "Answer me."

You swallow hard, flustered, "Yes."

"Behave, y/n." Renjun said beside you and pulled you in a deep kiss, muffling your noises. Haechan slowly starts thrusting again, making you choke on a moan. "God, that feels so good."

"Good. keep making those noises while I fuck you." Haechan didn't waste any time before he resumed thrusting inside at a fast pace, making you let out loud surprised moans. your hips clashed as he pounds into your wet heat, orgasms drawing closer.

" yes" you chant, followed by a series of moans. The noises made him lose control, letting out deep growls as he held onto your thighs for support and rams into you without mercy.

The bed squeaks in time with his rhythm, the sound being accompanied by the labored breathing, moans and grunts. Haechan slowed his pace but went deeper, one hand going to rub your clit to finish you off.

He grinds against you as your walls pulse around him, triggering his own climax. He quickly pulls out and releases his thick load all over your lower belly.

"Mhm, fuck yeah," Haechan leaned forward to kiss you shoulders, sticking his chest to you and nuzzling into the nape of your neck. When you try to speak something, he pulls you in for a kiss. The slow, lazy and affectionate kiss and you smiled in between.

Haechan pulled away from you, leaving your body feeling slightly cold under the touch of his brother, "Lay on the bed and spread those beautiful legs for me," Renjun ordered, licking his lips.

you, as always, followed the orders given to you but not without feeling a little embarrassed; Renjun liked the way you were complying to his orders and he smirked seeing your movements under his control.

As soon as you were lying comfortably on the bed, he went to situate himself between your legs at the foot of the bed and pulled you closer by thighs, kneading them. "Look at me," he continued giving orders, the authority in his voice making you shiver.

you lifted your upper body with the support of Haechan in order to see him, Haechan untied the belt from the wrists and your eyes widened as you watched him lift his middle and ring finger to his mouth, coating them thoroughly in saliva. your chest rises and falls rapidly as you keep watching him, while he just stares back at you with that wild hunger in his eyes, moving his tongue teasingly. He then pushes the two slick digits inside you, easing them into your wet entrance. you gasp and throw your head back into Haechan's chest, unable to control your body's response, and Renjun stops halfway, "Keep watching."

Haechan laughed and his laugh vibrated on your back. He held you down on your place, pinning your body against his chest, his length poking behind your lower back and the pleasure in front was driving you crazy. "She will be gone soon. My baby is loving this." Haechan said and laughed at your weak body in his hold.

Forcing yourself to not succumb to the pleasure Renjun was making you feel, you look at him again, licking your suddenly dry lips. Renjun's eyes flicker downwards to watch his fingers get sucked up all the way to the knuckles, his dick throbbing in want. He starts moving them in and out, scissoring them and stretching the tight walls.

you watch with hooded eyes the way his tongue pokes out from in between his teeth as he concentrates on his task, fingering her expertly.

"I want you to hold it in if you are near. Think you can do that?" you nod with furrowed eyebrows, whimpering in pleasure as his long fingers continue working their magic; they glide easily thanks to how wet you were, aroused by his dominant behavior. Haechan was trailing kisses along your neck and throat, often turning your mouth to kiss your lips.

Once your thighs start squeezing around him and you buck your hips, Renjun knew you were close to the edge. He moved his hand to replace it with his length and started to move a little faster, his warm breath hitting close to your nipples, when he sucked on them afterwards.

His hand left your thigh to go towards his mouth and he sucked on his fingers to taste you, tongue swirling around it before pulling it out and pressing it against your neglected clit. You were so into it that you didn't notice Haechan collected some of your arousal and started spreading it to your hole from the back and when you whined, he pushed himself from behind you. Renjun holding your body close to him and caressing your back. "Shh...that's it. You are doing so good for us."

Haechan groaned and held you still, the other male also stopping a bit to make you adjust, "relax. You are taking us so well. Good, baby." He caressed your sides. He planted a kiss on your shoulder and the other one who was still holding you close, kissed on your crown of the head. They started moving again, each cautiously looking at your expression, alert for your discomfort and they will stop. Haechan grabbed your breasts and squeezed them and Renjun grabbed your hips, you were clutching onto both of them for dear life.

your arms give out simultaneously as your legs begin to shake almost violently, white flashing behind your tightly closed eyelids, a loud and obscene moan leaving your lips. your back arches off the chest behind you as you are brought to the highway to heaven., tears spilling from her eyes and hands gripping him, nails digging into his skin.

"Please!" you cried out, whining loudly afterwards. your body wanted to scoot away and get closer at the same time, torn between the two. you panted in exhaustion and your body relaxes once they had stopped. they placed soft kisses all over your body, pulling out slowly. 

They lay you down between them and Haechan's hands comb through your hair while you stare at the ceiling absentmindedly, catching your breath. He whispered, "Happy birthday, Princess. I love you the most."

Before you could reply to him, Renjun turned your face towards him and kissed your lips, "Happy Birthday, Angel. I love you so much."

You glanced at the clock and it was 12' o clock, your birthday. "Thank you. I love both of you" you smiled sweetly at both of them.

"So, how was that? Feel good?" Haechan asks, a cocky smirk on his face.

"Of course it did... but " you trail off, making Haechan's smile fade into worry, "But?"

"But is it okay for us three to be together?" you asked, your face becoming warmer as you confess.

you had never done anything like this before, so you felt as if you were doing something wrong or must have gone crazy that you were liking all these things

."Don't worry, y/n, we'll be perfect with each other, promise. we'll show you all kinds of things in the future," Renjun reassured, squeezing her thigh, and giving her a sweet kiss before getting up, leaving you with Haechan.

"I'm gonna shower now. Haechan, can you freshen her up?" He asks and you whine, "don't leave me with him. Let's shower together. It's my birthday and you both have to listen to me now."

Before you could complain even more, Renjun scooped you in arms and laughed, "whatever you order, maam." you hit his chest playfully, his laugh becoming louder followed by Haechan who even started teasing you how heavy you look in his arms. Both of you glared at him and entered the bathroom.

You are glad that you are no longer in the past relationship with Wooyoung. You are out of his obsession and listened to your two best friends who stayed by your side, protected you and loved you. You are out of the toxic love. You are in a pure and innocent love.

Are you really, though?

Before Haechan could enter the bathroom, he heard a notification pop up on your phone. He stepped towards the table and unlocked to see it. He smirked at the screen, placing it back on the table top and he jogged towards the bathroom  when Renjun called out his name.

'Happy Birthday, y/n!'

        -Unknown (your love)

Love is poisoned by your innocence.

Note: please I want to thanks to people for reading and reblogging. Reviews are always appreciated. Spread love not hate. If my favoritism is showing with any of the members then please try to understand coz Hyuck is my twin🎀

Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @anyamaris @yeoobin @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @dinonuguaegi @oreharuuu @hwanring @sanwifesstuff @kiwiisnthereoops @kiwiraccoon @hyuukah @kazscara @aceofspadesbiofalltrades @nvdhrzn @meowmeeps @vtyb23 @haechansbbg

[open!]

#kvanity #poly nct #nct x reader #nct #nct 127 #nct dream hard hours #nct dream #nct dream smut #nct smut #nct hard hours #nct 127 smut #nct dream x reader #haechan smut #renjun smut #haechan x reader #haechan imagines #renjun x reader #renjun imagines #nct 127 hard hours #nct 127 hard thoughts #nct hard thoughts #nct dream hard thoughts #nct ff #nct fic #nct fanfic #haechan scenarios #haechan fluff #renjun fluff #renjun fanfic #renjun scenarios

[eomerofrohan]

I was talking to some friends irl about Boromir and one of them said “oh, I hated him so much when I watched those movies”

And like I get that the movies do Boromir an injustice but how can you hate him?!? No!!! He’s such a great dude, my poor son, he deserved so much better

like. this man was in charge of the defense of his country's most important city, with hundreds if not thousands of lives depending on him, and he was up against impossible odds. literally impossible. said city was under attack from the Witch King himself

that's right. Boromir fought the Witch King. and lived.

the Witch King has the power to instill his enemies with such fear that they can't help but flee from him. animals don't like to go near him. armies will turn and run when he appears, no matter how well they've been trained.

this is what Boromir has been up against, and with his entire people depending on him no less. and he thinks Gondor is alone in that fight. he thinks nobody else cares about what's going down on the front lines, because he hasn't seen any support from any of them.

and this all happens before he goes to Rivendell.

when he arrives in Rivendell, he is coming directly from this battlefield, and the main priority in his mind is saving Gondor, because of course it is! why wouldn't it be? it would be ridiculous for him to be thinking about anything else. so of course he wants to use the Ring. he thinks it might be the only way to save his people from utter destruction.

just. he's trying so hard, and it bothers me to no end when people just write him off without even really looking at him.

#this opinion is definitely influenced by my own experience too #I've had people depending on me for continued safety #while being attacked from multiple fronts #and you do get that feeling that no one else knows or cares about the fight #that it's up to you #and it can make you bitter towards those who are just sitting around somewhere safe when you've been putting your body on the line #Boromir's speech to the Council of Elrond looks a lot like a speech I have given irl #that's all I'm gonna say for now #boromir #lord of the rings #my posts

[fullhalalalchemist]

URGENT: 🚨🚨EARN IT ACT IS BACK IN THE SENATE 🚨🚨 TUMBLR’S NSFW BAN HITTING THE ENTIRE INTERNET THIS SUMMER 2023

April 28, 2023

I’m so sorry for the long post but please please please pay attention and spread this

What is the EARN IT Act?

The EARN IT Act (s. 1207) has been roundly condemned by nearly every major LGBTQ+ advocacy and human rights organization in the country.

This is the third time the Senate has been trying to force this through, and I talked about it last year. It is a bill that claims "protects children and victims against CSAM" by creating an unelected and politically appointed national commission of law enforcement specialists to dictate "best practices" that websites all across the nation will be forced to follow. (Keep in mind, most websites in the world are created in the US, so this has global ramifications). These "best practices" would include killing encryption so that any law enforcement can scan and see every single message, dm, photo, cloud storage, data, and any website you have every so much as glanced at. Contrary to popular belief, no they actually can't already do that. These "best practices" also create new laws for "removing CSAM" online, leading to mass censorship of non-CSAM content like what happened to tumblr. Keep in mind that groups like NCOSE, an anti-LGBT hate group, will be allowed on this commission. If websites don't follow these best practices, they lose their Section 230 protections, leading to mass censorship either way.

Section 230 is foundational to modern online communications. It's the entire reason social media exists. It grants legal protection to users and websites, and says that websites aren't responsible for what users upload online unless it's criminal. Without Section 230, websites are at the mercy of whatever bullshit regulatory laws any and every US state passes. Imagine if Texas and Florida were allowed to say what you can and can't publish and access online. That is what will happen if EARN IT passes. (For context, Trump wanted to get rid of Section 230 because he knew it would lead to mass govt surveillance and censorship of minorities online.)

This is really not a drill. Anyone who makes or consume anything “adult” and LGBT online has to be prepared to fight Sen. Blumenthal’s EARN IT Act, brought back from the grave by a bipartisan consensus to destroy Section 230. If this bill passes, we’re going to see most, if not all, adult content and accounts removed from mainstream platforms. This will include anything related to LGBT content, including SFW fanfiction, for example. Youtube, Twitter, Reddit, Tiktok, Tumblr, all of them will be completely gutted of anything related to LGBT content, abortion healthcare, resources for victims of any type of abuse, etc. It is a right-wing fascists wet dream, which is why NCOSE is behind this bill and why another name for this bill is named in reference to NCOSE.

NCOSE used to be named Morality in Media, and has rebranded into an "anti-trafficking" organization. They are a hate group that has made millions off of being "against trafficking" while helping almost no victims and pushing for homophobic laws globally. They have successfully pushing the idea that any form of sexual expression, including talking about HEALTH, leads to sex trafficking. That's how SESTA passed. Their goal is to eliminate all sex, anything gay, and everything that goes against their idea of ‘God’ from the internet and hyper disney-fy and sanitize it. This is a highly coordinated attack on multiple fronts.

The EARN IT Act will lead to mass online censorship and surveillance. Platforms will be forced to scan their users’ communications and censor all sex-related content, including sex education, literally anything lgbt, transgender or non-binary education and support systems, aything related to abortion, and sex worker communication according to the ACLU. All this in the name of “protecting kids” and “fighting CSAM”, both of which the bill does nothing of the sort. In fact it makes fighting CSEM even harder.

EARN IT will open the way for politicians to define the category of “pornography" as they — or the lobbies that fund them — please. The same way that right-wing groups have successfully banned books about race and LGBT, are banning trans people from existing, all under the guise of protecting children from "grooming and exploitation", is how they will successfully censor the internet.

As long as state legislatures can tie in "fighting CSAM" to their bullshit laws, they can use EARN IT to censor and surveill whatever they want.

This is already a nightmare enough. But the bill also DESTROYS ENCRYPTION, you know, the thing protecting literally anyone or any govt entity from going into your private messages and emails and anything on your devices and spying on you.

This bill is going to finish what FOSTA/SESTA started. And that should terrify you.

Senator Blumenthal (Same guy who said ‘Facebook should ban finsta’) pushed this bill all of 2020, literally every activist (There were more than half a million signatures on this site opposing this act!) pushed hard to stop this bill. Now he brings it back, doesn’t show the text of the bill until hours later, and it’s WORSE. Instead of fixing literally anything in the bill that might actually protect kids online, Bluemnthal is hoping to fast track this and shove it through, hoping to get little media attention other than propaganda of “protecting kids” to support this shitty legislation that will harm kids. Blumental doesn't care about protecting anyone, and only wants his name in headlines.

It will make CSAM much much worse.

One of the many reasons this bill is so dangerous: It totally misunderstands how Section 230 works, and in doing so (as with FOSTA) it is likely to make the very real problem of CSAM worse, not better. Section 230 gives companies the flexibility to try different approaches to dealing with various content moderation challenges. It allows for greater and greater experimentation and adjustments as they learn what works – without fear of liability for any “failure.” Removing Section 230 protections does the opposite. It says if you do anything, you may face crippling legal liability. This actually makes companies less willing to do anything that involves trying to seek out, take down, and report CSAM because of the greatly increased liability that comes with admitting that there is CSAM on your platform to search for and deal with. This liability would allow anyone for any reason to sue any platform they want, suing smaller ones out of existence. Look at what is happening right now with book bans across the nation with far right groups. This is going to happen to the internet if this bill passes.

(Remember, the state department released a report in December 2021 recommending that the government crack down on “obscenity” as hard the Reagan Administration did. If this bill passes, it could easily go way beyond shit red states are currently trying. It is a goldmine for the fascist right that is currently in the middle of banning every book that talks about race and sexuality across the US.)

The reason these bills keep showing up is because there is this false lie spread by organizations like NCOSE that platforms do nothing about CSEM online. However, platforms are already liable for child sexual exploitation under federal law. Tech companies sent more than 45 million+ instances of CSAM to the DOJ in 2019 alone, most of which they declined to investigate. This shows that platforms are actually doing everything in their power already to stop CSEM by following already existing laws. The Earn It Act includes zero resources for proven investigation or prevention programs. If Senator Bluementhal actually cared about protecting youth, why wouldn’t he include anything to actually protect them in his shitty horrible bill? EARN IT is actually likely to make prosecuting child molesters more difficult since evidence collected this way likely violates the Fourth Amendment and would be inadmissible in court.

I don’t know why so many Senators are eager to cosponsor the “make child pornography worse” bill, but here we are.

HOW TO FIGHT BACK

EARN IT Act was introduced just two weeks ago and is already being fast-tracked. It will be marked up the week of May 1st and head to the Senate floor immediately after. If there is no loud and consistent opposition, it will be law by JUNE! Most bills never go to markup, so this means they are putting pressure to move this through. There are already 20 co-sponsors, a fifth of the entire Senate. This is an uphill battle and it is very much all hands on deck.

CALL YOUR REPRESENTATIVES.

This website takes you to your Senator / House members contact info. EMAIL, MESSAGE, SEND LETTERS, CALL CALL CALL CALL CALL. Calling is the BEST way to get a message through. Get your family and friends to send calls too. This is literally the end of free speech online.

[phone] connects you to the congressional hotline. Here is a call script if you don't know what to say. Call them every day. Even on the weekends, leaving voicemails are fine.

2. Sign these petitions!

Link to Petition 1

Link to Petition 2

3. SPREAD THE WORD ONLINE

If you have any social media, spread this online. One of the best ways we fought back against this last year was MASSIVE spread online. Tiktok, reddit, twitter, discord, whatever means you have at least mention it. We could see most social media die out by this fall if we don't fight back.

Here is a linktree with more information on this bill including a masterpost of articles, the links to petitions, and the call script.

DISCORD LINK IF YOU WANT TO HELP FIGHT IT

TLDR: The EARN IT Act will lead to online censorship of any and all adult & lgbt content across the entire internet, open the floodgates to mass surveillance the likes which we haven’t seen before, lead to much more CSEM being distributed online, and destroy encryption. Call 202-224-3121 to connect to your house and senate representative and tell them to VOTE NO on this bill that does not protect anyone and harms everyone.

#earn it act #internet censorship #restrict act #us politics #net neutrality

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Yakuza x Reader (III)

A whole lot of confusion as to whether Reader and her yakuza friend are actually dating. After much back and forth and a coworker being threatened, the awaited confession might finally take place.

Bonus part: Kazuya tells Reader about his and Daitou's past and how they ended up working for the yakuza.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]

TW: Obsessive behavior, violence

Tags: @vinivave @ansy-tea @evvie8 @angelicbunnee @jingerbreadoutofstock @azukoya @randomlyblues @alien-consummation @neverlandlostchild @mimiemie @toji-whore @cloudie-skay @lilkittenmitten

The items are scanned and Kazuya finishes paying. He looks back, searching for Daitou, and finds him wandering among the narrow aisles of magazines and manga. They'd stopped by the konbini at the train station after their job.

"Here's your bentou." The blonde man extends a small box, eyeing his friend suspiciously. "Say, do you have an upset stomach or something? You're uglier than usual." 

Daitou thanks him with a nod, but doesn't take the neatly packaged food. He's idly playing with the cover of a romance volume, bending and straightening its corner.

"Nah, nothing like that. Just, ya know, feels a bit like (Y/N)'s been avoiding me. She hurries straight home after work and barely waves hi. I thought we'd do more things together now that we're dating."

Kazuya nearly spits out the soda he opened while listening to Daitou's troubles. He snorts and quickly wipes his mouth. 

"Wait, are you serious? You actually asked her out? And she said yes??"

Daitou thinks back to the time he gifted you your stalker's finger and teeth, the way you defended him, and the way you quietly walked home and almost held hands. That pretty much made it official, didn't it? So he confidently nods to his utterly baffled partner in crime.

"You little rascal, you! Who would've thought you had it in you?!" He cheerfully slaps Daitou's back and wraps his arm around his neck. The dark haired man blushes and scratches his cheek awkwardly. "You should've told me earlier!"

True. Between the two of them, Kazuya has always been extremely charismatic and popular with women. His perfectly combed blonde hair, his sparkling designer suits, his luxuriously elegant cologne. The handsome features and assertive smile. More than once he'd been approached by modeling agencies, and he likes to joke his lust for violence stopped him from living the glamorous life. In comparison, Daitou has the opposite effect on people. The room will empty if he steps inside. He's unnervingly tall, with bulging muscles, has multiple scars crossing his face, and his prosthetic eye always ends up twisted in the strangest position, causing him to look like he's only missing the straight jacket. Everyone is shocked upon hearing about their friendship. 

So it makes sense that Kazuya would have the required experience to offer him decent advice when it comes to (Y/N).

"Listen here, if there's one thing you should know, it's that women like a guy that fights for them. You gotta show them you care. What can you offer that other guys can't?"

The tall man listens intently, with a concentrated frown as if taking mental notes. He's not entirely sure who he should fight in this ordeal, but he doesn't want to embarrass himself in front of Kazuya, so he nods vehemently to his words.

"That's the short preview. If you have any more questions, just come over later. I'm piss tired, so I'll go home and have the nap of a lifetime." He yawns deeply to showcase his exhaustion and slowly walks away, throwing his hand in a lazy wave. 

The yakuza remains standing, still ruminating over the words of wisdom generously offered by the expert himself. Is he to randomly beat up people on the street as you watch? Won't Boss be angry if he attacks civilians? He gasps in realization. Perhaps this is what Kazuya meant. What kind of man is he if he can't even go against his Boss? So what if Boss won't like it? He has to prove himself to you. 

With newfound determination, he clenches his fists and gazes out of the window. 

That's when he notices you. You seem to be returning from work. Even more - and this causes his jaw to tighten in anger - some unknown man is walking next to you, cheerfully chitchatting and gesturing. 

That settles it. 

"You really didn't have to walk me home." You laugh clumsily to the man at your side.

A new coworker recently joined your company, and you've been asked to show him the ropes. You gradually discovered you had quite a lot in common, throughout your ample opportunities to gossip and talk leisurely. Your schedule isn't as packed nowadays, given you'll show up earlier and leave later.

Normally you'd prefer to be in your warm bed as soon as possible, but you've been feeling rather tense since the incident with Daitou. During his heated exchange with Kazuya, you've heard mentions of 'being liked by women' and 'having a crush on someone'. You thought it involved you and you nervously awaited further explanations from Daitou himself, but on the way back he was completely silent. You didn't have the courage to bring it up, so you assumed there must've been a misunderstanding somewhere along the way. 

Which, after all, would make plenty of sense. What business would a yakuza have with you? He's already shown much more courtesy than it was required of him. Hoping he'd also confess his feelings on top of everything was downright ridiculous and you're embarrassed to admit you'd harbored such cheesy fantasies to begin with. 

"Don't sweat it. You might not know", the coworker warns with lowered voice, "but this area is reeking of gangsters. I'm surprised you've been fine so far, but you should be more careful."

"O-oh...I see..." You glance at him and hold back a smirk. You doubt he could protect you from Daitou or Kazuya, but you appreciate his chivalry nonetheless. 

There's an uncomfortable pause as you stand in your doorframe, having reached the intended destination. The man hasn't left yet, waiting expectantly. He lowers his head towards yours and you swiftly slam the door, muttering something about an emergency. 

"Cute." He thinks to himself as he chuckles and steps away.

There's always a next time.

The coworker heads towards the train station in a relaxed strut. At the first intersection, however, he feels his clothes being pulled and he finds himself abruptly shoved in an empty room by an unknown assailant. 

Daitou easily lifts him up by his collar and nonchalantly throws him in a chair. It seems to be a small storage unit, possibly belonging to one of the shops. 

"What's your business with (Y/N)?" He barks.

"Huh? I should be the one asking-" The man pauses for a second, going over his conversations with you. "Could it be that you're the stalker she mentioned?"

Naturally, you had left out the part where your stalker was carefully packaged and dumped in a place unknown. To your coworker, he was very much still alive and a potential threat.

The yakuza is taken aback. 

"I'm her boyfriend!" He retorts angrily. 

"Bullshit. She doesn't have a boyfriend."

Another slap to the face. Daitou's cheeks are becoming increasingly red and he runs his fingers through his hair, attempting to calm down. Why, this son of a...

He marches to one of the metal shelves behind, grabbing his tool belt. Simultaneously, the door opens and Kazuya sheepishly peeks his head in. His blonde locks are ruffled and one can tell he's freshly woken up. 

"Yo, I just realized I might've been too metaphorical with you back at the store so I've been texting you, but you didn't-...Wait, why is there a guy handcuffed to the chair?"

He crosses his arms, with a habitual scolding glare towards his friend. 

"I just caught this cockroach flirting with (Y/N)! Went all the way to her place!" Daitou whines, his face full of indignation.

"Of course you know where she lives, you fucking stalker." The coworker exclaims bitterly. 

"Watch your mouth buddy, he ain't no stalker!" Kazuya straightens his back and approaches the mysterious man. "If he's right, and you've been messing with his woman...We ain't letting that go. Today you learn why no one fucks with the yakuza." 

The two men exchange a knowing look.

You drop yourself on the sofa and groan. Tomorrow will certainly be strange. Was the coworker trying to kiss you just now? You'll have to think of a polite way to turn him down next shift. Is it because you're not interested, or because you're still hoping to have a chance with Daitou? You slap your cheeks vigorously, trying to pull yourself out of such thoughts. 

You suddenly notice the foreign wallet sticking out of your bag. Your  coworker had dropped it earlier today while running for the train, and you offered to throw it in your bag to save time. Except you forgot to return it.

You check your phone. It hasn't been that long, so maybe you can still reach him if you hurry. Without much contemplation, you pluck the wallet and sprint out.

As you dash past the buildings, you have the idea of calling the man and asking him to wait instead. Why run like a madman? You stop and rest a hand against the wall, trying to catch your breath. Ugh, you've been so scattered today. This should've been the obvious choice, instead you sprang out. Silly. 

From around the corner you can make out the familiar wails you've learned to ignore. Whoever the yakuza tortures is not your problem. You are about to scurry away, yet something about these whimpers feels odd. No...Could it be?

You tiptoe down the vacant alleyway and try to catch a glimpse inside through the small, dirty window. As a matter of fact, it is your beloved coworker. Kazuya is holding his arm against a table, with the fingers forcefully fanned out, and Daitou has a blade secured over the pinky finger. 

You elbow yourself against the door in a theatrical entry. 

"What the hell are you guys doing?! That's my coworker!" You yell.

Daitou freezes, and Kazuya instantly releases his grasp. They turn to you, shocked.

"Stay out of it, (Y/N), this is to be settled among men. This bastard insulted your boyfriend, we can't let it slide!" Kazuya regains his composure and defends his cause fervently, pointing to the man that's now sobbing and crying uncontrollably. 

"Boyfriend?" You question, mouth agape. 

The blonde man stares at you. 

"You're...You're dating, aren't you?"

"Since when?" You demand, confused and upset.

Both you and Kazuya turn to Daitou for answers.

"I'm going to ask you one more time. Did you actually ask her out, Daitou? Did you say it out loud?" Kazuya's voice breaks in exasperation.

"W-well, I didn't...I didn't say it, but I thought..." the man's eyes dart between you and his friend. He gulps. "W-we almost held hands, didn't we?"

Overwhelmed with anger, the blonde stomps over to the shelves and kicks one to make his point, loudly bemoaning his friend's lack of social awareness. He can't believe he went along with his nonsense. Him, of all people! He should've anticipated it. 

As the coworker weeps and Kazuya continues his foul monologue, you can't help the blush that's now burning across your face. You fidget anxiously next to the tattooed man.

"Y-you thought we were dating?"

"Sorry for not making it clear." Daitou is once again twiddling with his prosthetic eye, dejected. "Is it too late to ask you out now? Because I do like you a lot..."

"Since you put it so nicely...I can't really say no~" Your ears are bright red and you're twirling your hair. Is it truly happening? Are you dreaming? Everything feels snug and fuzzy and the butterflies are swarming your stomach. 

You don't have time to enjoy your romantic encounter, as Kazuya is now behind you, clearing his throat.

"Alright, you lovebirds, what about this one here, then?" 

You suddenly remember your coworker and an icy cold flashes through your body. 

"Oh God, how will I explain this at work? I'll get fired!" You bite your nails in terror. You can already visualize the slip of unemployment. The long lines at the Job Center, you and the homeless. Panic begins to build up. 

Until Daitou's large hands rest on your shoulders. He's unexpectedly warm. 

"Don't worry about it, (Y/N). I'll have a word with Boss, and we can get you a job here. This way we can spend more time together", he suggests with childish enthusiasm. 

You glance up at him, moved by his soothing words.

"I wouldn't want to bother you like that."

"Hey, it's my fault you ended up in this situation. You can leave everything to me." He reassures you proudly.

"That didn't answer my damn question." Kazuya points out, annoyed.

"Can't we just kill him or something? He did call me a stalker, and I'm still upset about that..."

Daitou stretches and sighs in boredom, pondering the options. Once he's decided on the outcome, he shoos you away lovingly. You don't need to see this part. 

Bonus: Daitou's backstory 

"Oh, right, how did it go with your tickets?"

Kazuya is walking beside you, hands in pockets. Every now and then he removes the cigarette from his mouth to tap away the piling ash.

"Well, I still have both kidneys, but I won't be swimming in cash for the next months at least." You respond, slouching your shoulders dramatically for the effect. 

"Flying abroad is always expensive. Unless, I don't know, you book years in advance."

"Yeah. I should've looked earlier, but I wasn't sure about my work schedule. At least I get to see my family and friends for Christmas." 

After a few more steps in silence, you glance up at the blonde man. He notices your curious stare and raises his eyebrows, as if encouraging you to speak up. 

"What about you? Will you be going home for the holidays?"

He grins at your question and proudly places a hand on his chest.

"This is my home, actually! I was born and raised in this very neighborhood."

"Really? Was it not a yakuza quarter before?" Your eyes widen at his statement. 

"It was." Kazuya blows some of his smoke in your direction and you cough lightly. "You know the soapland further down the street?"

You nod.

"Mom used to work there. One of the clients got her pregnant and she found out too late. She had a room upstairs, and I just kind of tagged along. The other girls looked after me, too."

You recall one instance when Kazuya received a phone call about some drunkard causing a ruckus at the brothel, and he shot up without a word, rushed out and returned with bloodied knuckles. At the time, you'd assumed he's a client himself and maybe got attached to one of the girls. Now it makes sense. You're a little embarrassed of your obvious prejudice. If he grew up there, it must be his way of showing gratitude to the workers who loved him despite the circumstances. 

"Oh, what about Daitou, then? Is he from the area, too?"

The man frowns and purses his lips thoughtfully. After a moment, his features soften up again and he sighs.

"I suppose you're his girlfriend, after all. It's also not a secret per se..."

Your ears perk up at the strange reaction to your inquiry. 

"I mean, it's just a bit of a grim topic. No one knows for sure. Boss found him on the streets years ago, when he was a wee kid." 

He presses his thumb and index finger together, emphasizing the small size to you. 

"I don't know all the details, just what the Seniors told me - I was a kid myself back then - but it was pretty bad. Had no shoes on, scratches and cuts all over. His left eye was swollen and terribly infected, that's how he lost it, actually. Boss felt sorry for him, so he took him in.

They did try to ask him for parents or relatives, but apparently he wouldn't speak at all. Took him like a year to finally open his mouth. Even now, if you ask him anything about his past, he just pretends he didn't hear you. So maybe don't bring it up to him."

You shake your head along, urging him to continue with more details. Kazuya seems to warm up to the memories and slows down, indulging in the recollection. 

"Anyways, one day Boss' car is followed and he gets shot in the shoulder. Some snot-nosed trainees from the rival gang. They hadn't even gotten their pins yet, wanted to impress their older brothers I guess.

Daitou heard about it and went after them. One of our Seniors - he's a tough guy alright, been with the Family for decades - he told me he was sweating like mad when they found him. Daitou was just a teen at the time, but he butchered those guys up so bad they couldn't tell them apart anymore. Even bit a few bullets, and still kept going, like a crazed animal. The adults were freaking out. They didn't expect him to be this strong.

I suspect they were pretty afraid of him, you know? They were probably thinking, "if one day he has it out for us, we're done for!", so they told Boss they should kick him out. But at this point Daitou was like his own son, so he laughed and said, "What's the matter with ya, he does your dirty work and you wanna get rid of him?! If the boy wants to fight, let him!", and he arranged for Daitou to join the Family officially. I was recruited around the same time.

We didn't get along at first, I mean, they warned me to stay away because he's crazy and also Boss' favorite. He didn't hang out with anyone. He had his own jobs, the mercenary stuff no one else wanted to deal with.

You might not believe it, but back then I was an angry, stubborn asshole. It didn't sit well with me that this guy was out there, doing his own thing. I had a reputation myself, before I dropped out of high school I was pretty much undefeated. I thought I'd see it with my own eyes, this all-powerful jackass even the Seniors avoided."

You smile faintly, trying to imagine a young Kazuya without the expensive, flashy suit and polished appearance.

"So one evening I just walked up to him and told him to join me outside. Didn't even give him a speech, just rammed my fist into his face. This was my signature move, you know, I can't even count how many guys I knocked out with this punch. Straight into the jaw, sends your brain spinning. Whew, and this guy? He didn't even flinch! Just stood there and looked at me like I was dumb. I was pissed off at this point, you can imagine, it felt like he was mocking me. So I yelled we ain't done until one of us gives up. 

He understood what I wanted and finally fought me earnestly. Hell, he even knocked some of my teeth out. This one here's an implant. Mad expensive. Anyhow, as much as it hurt my pride, I'd lost fair and square. So I got up, wiped the blood, and asked him to come grab a drink with me. My treat. 

You should've seen his face, (Y/N). I think it was the first time I've witnessed him smile. 'Really? Can I? Are you sure?' He was like a stray dog after you've thrown him some leftovers. Kept that dumb grin the whole night. You could've given him a clown hat and people would've paid to see the circus. 

That's when I realized this poor bastard probably just wanted a friend. The next day I went to pick him up again and he was beaming like a princess. Heh. Afterwards he started following me around and eventually Boss called me in. I thought I got into trouble or something, even brought a bunch of gauze pads in case I needed to slice off my finger. Turns out he'd heard of us becoming pals, and he asked me to maybe attend Daitou every now and then because he always leaves a mess and everyone's too scared to deal with him. We've been teamed together ever since."

You realize you've been standing in the same spot ever since Kazuya begun talking, completely entranced by his story. He chuckles upon seeing your expression and ruffles your hair. 

"Man, I sure rambled a lot. Sorry about that. In any case, that was my piece about Daitou. I'm sure you already know this, but he's not a bad guy. Just has a twisted sense of loyalty. Once he finds someone to serve, he doesn't see anything else.

Hell, I'm his closest friend and I'm convinced he wouldn't hesitate to kill me if it was for Boss."

Upon further consideration, he smiles and winks at you.

"Or for you. Especially you."

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #female reader #yandere yakuza #yakuza x reader #yandere imagine #yandere imagines #yandere oc #yandere original character #yandere mafia #mafia x reader #original work #oc x reader #male yandere x reader #x reader #yandere scenarios

[unadulteratedsoulsweets]

A DC X DP IDEA #28

My Beloved

Imagine dis…

You know, I like misunderstandings…

I saw a bunch of prompts that Danny is the mother of Ellie and Dan who is angry and will destroy the world in the future.

I also saw a bunch of prompts of Danny and Phantom separating themselves and acting like two individual beings but having to be in proximity or else there would be consequences.

But I didn’t see anything about combining the two things…

HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE

…

Daniel “Danny” Fenton knew that he had many powers, that kept on growing and appearing at the heat of the moment. He would sometimes forget how many powers he had due to his never-ending list. He has powers that he likes to use often, like levitation, flight, intangibility, his ghostly wail, and many more… But even he has a favorite, his duplication power.

Unlike Vlad who can create multiple clones of himself to do his bidding, he can only create one.

Now don’t go on and underestimate him just because he can only create one despite Vlad making multiple and who is also a halfa.

…

His clone is unique, when he first discovered this power of his he was all alone in the house full of guns to kill him when a passing thought passed his mind. Wes was getting on his nerves with how he adamantly tried to prove that he was Phantom. He knew the consequences when the people knew the truth, especially his parents, every time he closed his eyes it always showed him and his parents at the other end of the dissecting table.

He kept on saving them, poor animal ghosts who had just stumbled through the portal. He kept on stuffing his face with his pillows just to block out the screams.

He had just blinked, one moment he was all alone and all of a sudden another appeared in front of him.

He was startled at the notion while the clone looked at him with interest.

The clone was not human-HIM per se, but it was the ghostly-HIM aka Phantom but with more ghostly attributes.

Snow white hair that seems to sway, taller by a few feet, pointed ears, fanged teeth, skin so blue, and white freckles that seem to give off a faint glow.

He tried going ghost but was unable to do so, what he can do is a weaker version of flight, intangibility, and invisibility. While Phantom got most if not all of his powers whenever he went ghost.

At first, he was ecstatic with this new power of his not only he can throw people off who are looking too deeply into Phantom’s identity and put an end to Wes’s chatter but with this new power of his he can finally have some sort of normalcy.

But after a few minutes, he began to feel fatigued and nauseous, Phantom slowly moved towards Danny and merged himself with his human half causing a faint white glow all over his body that he got used to whenever he was going ghost.

It was a few minutes, Danny thought to himself, but it was enough to not only create a separation between the kid who always hides in the bathroom or disappears whenever there is a ghost attack and a ghost kid who looks the same age as he and only appears whenever he disappears.

But it was enough.

…

Everything was great, as Phantom was able to deal with the ghosts that constantly invaded his hometown but also, he is slowly bringing his grades up from where it was before the accident. He also created an alibi for himself so people will know that both Phantom and Danny and two separate people.

Both sides were able to go on separated from each other the more time they spent separated

…

After a few days, something also began to change.

Phantom would sometimes make a joke or a quip about death or even puns that made Danny laugh. Phantom would be more serious whenever they got too far from each other, small things that made both Danny and Phantom different from one another from an outside perspective.

Both made a mental connection to each other.

Not like romantically, but more of a deep platonic love for each other.

Devotion to each of their other halves. So deep that one might double-take whenever they saw the two.

Danny loves his friends and family but even they cannot understand him ever since the day of the accident. Jazz blessed his sister’s soul, who read every book in every existence known to man and tried to help him. But the thing is, those books are for humans, not ghosts, and especially not for someone like him.

He died and came back to life knowing instinctively that something was wrong with him. He stands in between life and death. He knew he died and felt every bolt of electricity that had killed him. He who had to sit still at the dinner table listening to their parents who were supposed to love them, listened in great detail to what they would do to Phantom when they had caught him. 

But Phantom, Phantom instinctively knew how he felt and heard his thoughts. When rough days came to Danny, Phantom quietly appeared behind him and offered his silent support.

Both needed each other to live, without the other one cannot survive on their own.

Phantom, when got too far and separated from his human for far too long got reckless, angry, cold, merciless, and ruthless. Nocturn got the burnt of it despite knowing that Phantom held back.

And Danny?

Got too emotional, and detached, and has that far-away look on his face. He would space out an entire war or destruction surrounding and he still would not notice.

Both are each other’s anchor and rock. And when both become one and become Phantom together then they will be unstoppable.

…

When Danny became the Ghost King it was clear they needed to separate often due to the amount of paperwork that was left pilling when Pariah Dark was in charge.

It became domestic, Danny thought as he paused for a bit when he was trying to write a book report from the Lord of the Rings courtesy of Mr. Lancer. Add the latest guests in his room he thought as he took a look at the sleeping and cuddled up Dan and Ellie who are now freshly de-aged due to some circumstances.

When Danny tried to explain to the two halves the reason why he and Phantom seemed to separate or why he was using this power of his almost every day.

Dan and Ellie seem the only two who didn’t feel weird at his new predicament. Both de-aged ghosts after a sudden bad melting episode and the start of someone’s redemption arc called human Danny is their mom while Phantom is their dad.

Danny at first surprised at the title given by the two but asked playfully to the twins why is he the mom. Phantom who was trying to cuddle the two de-aged ghosts whom he saw as his children at this point and his human counterpart mumbled about whether was it the time when he went and juggled flaming diapers or mastered the art of the 'mom stare' that could freeze a room?

Danny who is still in a bad mood from Dash’s bullying earlier snarked back at Phantom on how he got the dad title. Did he accidentally perfect the art of 'dad dancing' during ghostly gatherings? or accidentally stumble into a dad joke competition?

Sam, often would joke that if she didn’t know better, she would think the two would be lovers which would be found in Paulina’s A03 account and history.

Now that spread like wildfire, it spread faster than Wes could say Danny is Phantom. Now both GIW and his parents are out to get him for two different reasons… One Phantom mind controlled their precious son and now locked up Danny for his “own good” and two he was called a so-called “traitor” to his race as he fell in love with a creature who was not even sentient.

As things slowly went out of hand, Danny had to physically drag Phantom, who had been clawing and gripping to Danny like a lifetime ever since Danny told him to stay at the Infinite Realms for their safety, to a portal with the two children who have their eyes puffed red as they say their farewells to each other.

…

The JL is now confused, they kept seeing the same teen on the loose that appeared in various cities such as Metropolis, Central, Star City, and many more, with various government agents tailing him and trying to capture him.

At first, they thought it was another of Walker’s programs, in which they kidnap various kids who have a powerful meta ability to be part of a group that directly answers to the government.

But when it was revealed that he is another son of Bruce Wayne, it became personal.

Could it be another ploy to gain the Wayne enterprise through a much older and miniature appearance of Bruce Wayne, is it another ploy to gain Bruce Wayne’s wealth and money… They might never know.

…

Batman aka Bruce Wayne publicly announced that he had found another son who was rummaging in the trash of Gotham City, this way those mysterious agents could not publicly go after him as Danny had been publicly broadcasted and the manor is equipped with the latest security known to man.

Danny is very skittish the Batfam concluded, as if every move and twitch they made is something Danny should be wary of. Danny was too distracted to be sad, and have little to no energy to even join Dick and the rest of his siblings to bond over something.

However, that didn’t stop them from forming some sort of familial bond with Danny despite him being too guarded and too wary to get close to the family.

However, it all changed on a random day, as the entire noticed his change of mood. No longer the wariness, anxiety, and nervousness they encountered daily. Each of them began asking around within themselves if they were the one who made a change to Danny, even Alfred didn’t know who or what made him turn a 180.

Of course, when they tried to ask COUGH to interrogate COUGH Danny, he just kept quiet and smiled shyly.

..

Night comes and all the Bats are gathered at the cave to discuss what made Danny to be in a good mood before their patrol.

As they were just about to leave for their shift when Oracle notified them Danny leaving the manor.

Of course, all of them immediately followed him and followed him to a tall abandoned building with Danny sitting giddily on top of the said building. Of course, some of them have some dark thoughts about Danny sitting on top of a warehouse and seeming near the edge. One of the Bat broods is ready to interfere if Danny even makes any signs.

But all thoughts were thrown out as a crack seemed to tear through reality appeared behind Danny, Danny on the other hand looked ecstatic. As the tear/ crack opened up there they saw an underworldly being donned with a crown that is covered in various jewels, an outfit and cape fit for an emperor, and eyes that reminded them of the Lazarus pits.

Just as the moment they tried to calm their hearts down, Danny flung himself towards the unknown being and cried out beloved, the said being caught Danny and twirled him around.

Both are in their little world as they both keep laughing and hugging each other.

The Bat family who are still in the shadows kept their eyes on the two as they wanted to get Danny away from someone that made their instincts go haywire. Batman and Robin are both especially to grab Danny away from that thing.

Both the being and Danny finally settled down and began chatting to each other with little to no distance between the two. The being then summoned a basket that was full of unique and exotic food and then shared it with their new brother.

Then Danny suddenly asked about the kids, What kids!!! EVERYONE thought when suddenly two black blurs went and tackled Danny down, knocking the air out of him.

As the kids stopped hugging Danny, they all held their breaths, they looked like the perfect copy of Danny. Black hair and blue eyes, both kids exclaimed Danny as their mom while they pouted at the being and called him dad about hoarding their mom.

The reunited “family” began chatting about how they were at each other, more on the beings asking how Danny is especially doing.

Danny chatted about how the Waynes are too good for him and how he informed Batman since the Bats have a very close relationship with the Waynes. When one of the kids why mom needs to talk to Batman, Danny just casually reveals a bombshell on the Anti-Ecto laws, GIW, The Infinite realms...etc. So that both mom and dad could get together again, as mom aka Danny is trying everything to stop the war from the living world while their dad tries to stop the war from the Realms.

As they were chatting and catching up to one another, Danny looked at his wristwatch and told the kids that he had to get going or else the Waynes might notice that he snuck out. Both kids immediately cried and gripped Danny while the other being also known as dad didn’t even try to pry the kids off from Danny as he too wanted to stay with the human.

Of course, Danny gently pried off the three hands that were gripping and immediately one of the kids threw a tantrum at how Danny was not safe and might get him killed if he stayed there and Danny should just go with them. Of course, Danny shook his head and told the kid that Mommy was doing everything he could to protect both of them also he might not want to admit it in front of the Wayne but he did grow on them, like a fungus he can’t remove.

And so, the trio left the building after one last look and hug from Danny, Danny immediately lost the small life and cheerfulness that he had when he was meeting them and silently went back to the manor.

…

This made the Bat clan scramble to fix everything, all the while competing for the favorite uncle and aunt title while both Bruce and Alfred engage in their silent war for the grandpa title, when they showed their findings to the League both Booster Gold and the Flask stood up white as paper.

They claimed at the picture of Danny, that he may be the one who destroyed the future, but looked a little confused as some traits that they remembered were not on Danny which made them speculate that maybe he grew into. But when the two-time travelers explained in great detail his appearance, it matched the appearance of their nephew.

Is this the reason why Dan turned evil, humans have killed his family leaving him both angry and devastated that he let the world know of his pain?

…

PS: If someone out there wants to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so, don’t forget to tag me though.

PPS: As you can see, I posted a bit early, I got a bunch of people to do and things to see. So uhh, bye-bye!

PPPS: This one got too long for my liking...

#dc x dp #dc x dp prompt #danny phantom #ghost king danny

[babygorewhore]

Daddy issues

After your dad is arrested, you try and beg for his job back. But Rafe Cameron decides another way for you to help your father. And his arrangement is different than you imagine.

Warnings! Daddy kink! Talks of violence! Slight reference to abuse! Choking! Blow job! Rough unprotected sex! Breeding kink! Virginity loss! Dirty talk!

You didnt know if you were more angry or surprised when you got the call from the officer that your dad was arrested and currently in jail for assault. You were finished working your late shift at the restaurant when your phone rang.

You screamed in your car on the way to the station. Your dad was a dead beat. An asshole who didn’t know how to fucking control his temper. Daddy dearest also liked to get loud with you, throw things when he didn’t get his way and one time he slapped you in the face.

You slapped him back and threatened to slash his tires. But the threat was empty considering he needed to work, which you had no idea how he kept his job at the docks while working for Rafe Cameron. It used to be his father Ward until his suicide. You’d met him often while picking your dad up, given you had to share a car.

He was…polite you could say. But he was also scary. He glared at everyone and he was short tempered. You usually heard him snapping or yelling if something wasn’t done right. Your dad complained about how strict he was.

But his status and wealth made everyone obey him and intimidated you. His attractiveness however was on another level. His height made you feel small and his blue eyes cut through people.

You slammed the door at the station and went to the desk. After signing in, you tapped your foot impatiently as an officer came up to you.

“Are you…?”

“My dad is here. He just got arrested.” You ground out. You hated being here. She nodded and looked at paperwork in front of her.

“Are you here to post bail?”

“I’m here to see if there’s any way we can clear this up as a misunderstanding.” You tried to plead but she shook her head.

“Ma’am, he attacked a man at a stoplight. He beat him up to the point he lost one of his teeth.”

You pressed your head against your hand. Jesus Christ it was worse than you thought. “How much is bail?”

She looked again at the paperwork. “Looks like we’re at 6,000 dollars.”

“What? I thought the bail was lower than that!” You shrieked.

“Ma’am. He also had multiple charges. Public intoxication, disturbance and assault. He caused a lot of trouble. I suggest you alert his job tomorrow. But until then, he’s going to spend at least 60 days in jail.”

You started crying. You couldn’t help it. It hurt so much. You couldn’t get a break. And now you’d have to face Rafe Cameron and face the humiliation of your dad being in jail.

You cried on and off the next day as you had to switch your schedule to the evening and make the phone call to your dads manager about his current situation. It was immediate termination and you broke down even harder in your bedroom. You refused to take his phone call, afraid you’d explode on him.

As you got ready for another dreaded work shift, your phone started ringing to a number you didn’t recognize. Hesitantly, you answered.

“Hello?”

“Your dads in jail, huh?” You immediately froze. It was Rafe’s voice. How did he-well he was capable of finding anything out.

“I-um. Yes. And he can’t work for you anymore. But if you’ll please reconsider. I know he’s a piece of shit but this is the only job he’s lasted out and we desperately need the money. I’m trying to get a car and we have to share one. I know this is probably pointless but I can’t help but try. So please, please take him back.” More tears came and you felt like a total cry baby but you pushed through.

You expected him to laugh but instead silence met you.

You bit your lip hard enough it bled.

“Meet me at my house. I’ll text you the address. I have a proposition for you.”

“Why can’t you tell me over the phone?” Your stomach tightened.

“Do you want me to help you or not?”

“Yes. Of course. I’ll be there.”

“Good girl.”

You set the phone down but seconds later his address came through in a text and your breath stopped short. He wanted to see you after work.

Five minutes before closing and after you finished cleaning, the drive to Rafe’s house wasn’t that far and now you knocked on his door. When he answered, you tried not to reveal how much you found him attractive. His hair was in his face and his eyes were glazed as he looked down at you. His fingers twitched and you imagined what he was doing with that hand…

Rafe gestured with his head for you to come in and you followed him inside the massive penthouse. He had everything you imagined. Expensive furniture, floors and lights.

You followed him to the kitchen where he pointed to the bar stool. “Have a seat.” He muttered.

You obeyed and watched as he circled the island in the center of the room. “So. You wanna save your dads job?”

“Yes. I’m willing to do anything-“ You stopped short when a smirk fell on his face.

“Anything?” Rafe challenged. “It looked like you hated him whenever I saw you talk to him.”

“It’s complicated.” You replied and his smirk grew into a cruel smile.

“Looks like someone has daddy issues.” Rafe countered and you crossed your arms.

“I-well when you put it that way-“

“I’m just bringing up what you’re telling me. Your dad beats the shit out of someone. He went to jail-and now you’re doing anything you can to fix it. Tell me if I missed anything.” Rafe’s voice was low and you hated that he was right.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound pushy. I’m just in a tight spot.”

“Oh I’m sure you’re in a…tight spot.” His meaning was clear and you swallowed.

That was the exchange.

“Look at you. Being a little smart girl and figuring it out. I’m gonna get to the point. You want me to take him back? Bail him out? I get to fuck you. Anywhere. Anytime. And anyplace I want. No condoms. No hidden birth control. No. I wanna see my cum leak out of that desperate pussy.”

Your mouth opened and closed. “I can’t just fuck a stranger. And no birth control? I can’t fucking get pregnant.”

“I’m a selfish whore, baby. And I can afford one. And those are my terms. Either that. Or your dad rots.”

You bit your lip. You weren’t in a position to say no. You needed the money. And Rafe was hot. There were worse guys. Rafe got closer, his big hands reaching to cup the side of your neck.

“Yeah? You want it?”

Slowly, you nodded.

Rafe crooked a finger, signaling you to come closer. You stepped down and approached him gingerly and looked into his gaze. Rafe then latched his hand around your throat. His grip was so strong your feet almost lifted in the air and your eyes widened as he crushed his lips to yours.

His lips devoured you as he shoved his tongue into your mouth. You weren’t experienced. Sure, you’d touched yourself and made out with people.

But actual fucking? You’d never done that. And you knew that was about to change.

“You want me to take care of you, don’t you?” Rafe loosened his hold on your neck and pressed you against the island counter, “need someone to be your daddy?”

Your hands flew to his chest as you brought him impossibly closer, his lips sucked your skin with bruising force. You opened your mouth as he slipped his fingers inside.

“Suck.” He commanded and you listened. Spit gathering on your lips as he kneed your legs apart and lifted you up on the counter.

“Need daddy to help you? Fill you up with my cum?” His dirty words made your cunt twitch as he started toying the end of your skirt. Your thighs dampened as he trailed his thick fingers along your flesh, his fingers grazing the wet patch of your underwear.

You started grinding to give any friction against your arousal as he apparently changed his mind and threw you to the ground by underneath your arms. Rafe gestured to the crotch of his pants. “Consider this your first payment, baby. You ever done this before?”

You shakily remained silent as he huffed an amused laugh.

“Really? A girl who’s such a perv that she’s willing to fuck someone giving her money? Never would have guessed. I guess I’ll be nice and help you.”

Rafe undressed his lower half, his cock leaked with precum and he took your hand. “Swipe it with your thumb, get it all wet.” His massive hand compared to yours was almost comical as he grabbed the back of your head.

“Open your mouth, princess. And remember to breathe through your nose.”

After that, he silenced whatever worries you had by shoving his dick forward. You run your tongue along the thick underside, lessening some of the heavy weight by massaging with your hand. You took the tip through your mouth, shoving down any nerves as you sucked. Rafe bobbed your head up and down as he pushed you further, your head bouncing as your eyes squeezed shut.

“No, no, open your slutty eyes and look at me.” He growled. He leaned over the arch of the space between the counter and where you sank on your knees. The skin of his cock was supple as you continued aiding with your hand. It was hot to the touch.

“Good fucking girl. Maybe I’ll reward you by fucking your pussy.” He started thrusting and hitting the back of your throat. “Breathe. Breathe through your nose.” He wiped a few tears away with his thumb as you listened to him.

You knew he was getting closer as he stopped talking, his breathing heavier as he moved your head. His cum spilled inside your mouth, as he released you and you coughed.

“Not bad for your first time. We’re gonna practice some more.” Rafe smirked as his face was flushed and his fist flexed.

He moved on top of you on the floor, hiking up your skirt and ripping off your panties. He spread apart your wet cunt and dipped his middle finger inside your clenching entrance. “You’re such a whore. Never done any of this and you’re already gonna cum. Should have known you’d be daddy’s cum slut.”

Rafe yanked your legs apart, and spit on your pussy. “Not that it needed it, but I’m gonna be a little more kind to you.” You shrieked as he grabbed your jaw.

“Are you on birth control?”

“No.” You quickly answered. “Never-never needed-“

“Good. And you’re not going to. Got it?” Rafe moaned as he pushed his tip in your pussy, “fuck you’re so tight.”

You winced from discomfort but then his knuckles hit your clit, aiding to relieve your tension as he circled them. “Gonna make you mine. Take you away from all that shit.” He grunted as he pushed further.

Rafe let you wrap your arms around his neck as he thrusted.

“Tell daddy you like it.”

“I like it.” You sobbed as he moved harder. “I like it, daddy.”

It was slightly shameful how quickly you came all over him and spilled onto your legs. Rafe also came again and you felt it inside you. He was serious about no protection.

He stayed for a few seconds before getting up. And pulling his pants back on. He extended his hand and pulled you up. You knew you were a sight to be seen, fucked out eyes and messy hair. You just lost your virginity to Rafe Cameron.

You cleared your throat and watched him sweep his eyes over your face. “So. My dad?”

He shrugged. “He’s already out.”

You paled. “What?”

“I posted bail a few minutes before you got here. But as for his job, you’re gonna have to work harder than that. I have conditions.”

“But I already said-“

“More than just fucking you, baby girl. I own you now. You are mine and no one gets to even think about fucking you. I will cross any line you make to keep me away. And if you try, I will punish you.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong.” You whimpered as he loomed over you.

“And?” He mocked. “You already agreed. You need me. Don’t you?” He cupped your jaw. Tightly but not as harsh.

“Yeah.” You leaned in to his touch. Your defenses are completely down. You needed care. You were always working. Always cleaning up after someone’s mess. And now…he was going to take care of you.

And either make your daddy issues better.

Or worse.

@xxhellfirebunnyxx @imyourdaninow @lesservillain @take-everything-you-can @slvt4jamesmarch @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @scene-and-dandylover @emsgoodthinkin

#rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe imagine #rafe smut #rafe fanfiction #rafe x you #rafe obx #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x female reader #Rafe Cameron imagine #Rafe Cameron series #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron outer banks #outerbanks rafe #rafe fic

[nelkcats]

Time crisis

Clockwork looked sick, this was the first time Danny had witnessed something like this so he couldn't help but feel concerned for his mentor. However, no matter how many times he asked what was going on, the Ancient refused to answer.

The halfa was taking care of him and finally Clockwork revealed that he was under attack. Danny raised an eyebrow in confusion, he saw no one in Clock Tower and the Observants were not around, seeing his confusion the Master of Time explained himself more clearly.

Clockwork had multiple bodies, distributed in different dimensions. And while they didn't follow the same rules, their job was the same, "preserve the timelines". One of his other bodies must have sensed his timeline being altered multiple times and awoke from its rest to repair the error.

Someone must not have been happy about that, if the damage Clockwork was receiving was anything to go by. The Ancient had no doubt that if they kept attacking him they would cause him further damage, which would be a big problem for the timelines.

The reason he didn't want to tell the halfa that was because he knew Danny would want to help, but not all of his "parts" were good, nor did they have the same methods to "repair" and he didn't want to show the boy a bad part of himself. Although he doubted his other "self" would attack young Daniel, seeing how fond he was of him.

Danny of course, offered to solve the problem. Knowing the boy was stubborn, Clockwork sighed in resignation and opened a portal to the DC Universe, where the Justice League was facing Kronos, Danny stepped through the portal immediately and started running to the battlefield.

Wonder Woman was gritting her teeth in fury as she faced Kronos, who was scowling in annoyance, his gaze seemed to be fixed on the speedster for some reason; half of the League were injured but holding their ground, and John Constantine had almost finished preparing a spell to destroy the titan once and for all. He opened his mouth to tell the Titan it was his end when a teenage boy ran past him.

Danny, who had no idea what was going on, stood in front of Kronos not knowing what to say. He didn't quite know how to fix the situation. Kronos looked at him in confusion as John choked as he noticed the boy in the path of his spell.

"Fate is not inevitable" the halfa told the Titan decisively. While he had been a hero and understood why the people around him would want to "stop" the other Clocky, he didn't want to see his mentor die (even if this was some sort of clone? Danny didn't quite understand), he was selfish, and he knew the other Clocky had his reasons. He looked at the wounded on the battlefield and took a deep breath before looking at the Titan again.

"Come home with me and we'll find another way to solve it" Danny offered, ignoring the heroes glaring at him. Kronos was still silent, he knew he could kill the boy in seconds but something in him protested at the idea.

Danny wondered if he could lock the being in front of him in a Fenton thermos.

#dpxdc #Clockwork is Kronos #but at the same time he's not #Clockwork divided himself to control the problematic dimensions #and some of his clones developed a personality on their own #Since Clockwork doesn't care about morals as long as the timeline is fixed that was okay for him #Technically all the situation is Flash's fault #He traveled too many times and played with the timelines #that woke up Kronos #since that dimension fate was to be destroyed he kinda decided to destroy it himself #dp x dc #dc x dp #John Constantine almost destroyed the time on the DC dimension #JL attacks damaged Clockwork directly #Constantine didn't finish his attack because of Danny #Danny doesn't care about all that's happening #he just want to help Clockwork #he wonders if that's a Dan situation and if he need a Fenton thermos #Kronos isn't going to attack Danny #he like him unconsciously

[silkscream]

angel unaware

ꨄ︎ pairing: peter parker x silk!reader

ꨄ︎ synopsis: you’ve known peter since you were fifteen, shortly after you were both bitten by the same spider. it was too obvious that you’d end up loving him. as you drift apart during your first year of college, you’re not sure how much longer you can keep dancing in circles with him.

ꨄ︎ genres: best friends to lovers, angst, idiots in love, slowburn, mutual pining, hurt/comfort

ꨄ︎ tags: rated explicit/18+ (smut), alcohol usage, mention of drug usage, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), characters are 19, mild violence, gun violence (there is a school shooting in the beginning but there aren't too many details)

ꨄ︎ wc: 13.8k

ꨄ︎ notes: omg. happy valentine’s day y’all. i’ve been working on this Big Bertha for literal MONTHS and i’m so happy to finish it and share it with you. thank you for being around even though i haven’t been the most active; this is a gift to you <3

ꨄ︎ listen to the playlist!

The spider bit you first.

It isn’t until you’re fifteen that someone else finds out about it.

In many ways, you should’ve known. The symptoms, the hypervigilance, the strange, gradual transition of filling out your body. You blame puberty first, but this feels more than abnormal. It's almost as if it's bursting through your skin. The only other person who seems to mirror your coming of age is Peter Parker, whose twitchy nature exacerbates the longer high school goes on.

You keep your head low because there’s no reason for you to tell anyone about your powers. Not even the boy about whom you’re positive shares the same curse as you.

But then the videos come out. Red and blue lycra flying through buildings, a blurred figure saving cats from trees, webs shooting and swaying as onlookers stare like it’s a circus act. He calls himself Spider-man and you think it’s awfully corny.

You’d be a fool to think that you were safe from the antics of Avengers propaganda, rubble, and ash blocking your way to school on more days than not. You’d be a fool to think that you could evade the classic tropes of American violence that force the president to lament about "unthinkable tragedies" multiple times a year. At this moment, you’re a fool for getting yourself locked in a janitor’s closet while there’s an active shooter at Midtown High.

Your breath hitches when the doorknob jangles in front of you. On instinct, you stick yourself to the ceiling, far in the corner with your senses on fire. You’ve never actually had to attack anyone before. You aren’t entirely sure how this would play out with a gun involved.

Peter Parker’s labored breaths fill your eardrums, and without thinking, you shoot your webs directly at him. He stumbles, clumsily tripping over an empty mop bucket. He looks up at you in confusion. He’s wearing half of his suit.

"You. You just–"

"Shut the fuck up," you hiss, covering his mouth with your palm. In the darkness, your eyes widen. Someone is near.

It’s a stupid ordeal. The crime happening, this meet-cute, the way your senses feel haywire being this close to him. Both of you are holding your breath, your heart is pounding erratically in your chest, and blood is rushing through your ears.

The day ends with you and Peter making it out of the closet through a vent and the shooter getting subdued by the police. A troubled sophomore who barely knew how to use the gun in the first place made it easy for Spider-man to intercept the weapon the moment the kid raised his arms.

Peter follows you home that afternoon like a stray cat, babbling over a game of twenty questions that you aren’t in the mood to entertain. Somehow, his presence leaves your chest feeling warm and light, and you realize that you don’t mind the company. Twenty questions become routine.

He’s the only one who gets it, of course.

He tells you about the Avengers, ignoring the way you scoff under your breath. Secretly, you’re only a little jealous. Not because you want that kind of prestige or even a fancy suit, but because at least there’s a group of freaks out there who know.  "How come you didn’t tell me?" Peter asks you. He looks small on your couch despite his sixteen-year-old sleeper build and the fact that he’s taking up more than half of your space.

"What do you mean?"

"If you knew about Spider-Man this whole time… why didn’t you say something?"

"What, like I was supposed to seek you out on the street with a mask on?"

He gives you a pointed look. "You had a feeling about me. In school. Didn’t you?"

You don’t answer, which, to Peter, is an answer in itself.

"I didn’t want to be any trouble. It’s my burden to deal with," you say slowly, blinking up at him.

Burden. Peter smooths the word over in his mind and watches the way your nimble fingers pick at the threads of your sweater. He suddenly feels guilty for pestering you with questions, especially after the trauma of today.

"It’s not a burden," he says carefully. You don’t protest, but he knows there’s a certain level of repression inside you that won't let you give this part of yourself up. As if his knowing about your powers would only be that — knowing. He keeps staring at your fingers.

"You don’t have web shooters?" He gestures to your hands.

"Comes from my fingertips."

"No fucking way. You gotta show me."

"You saw it today," you chuckle as you take a breath.

"Not really," he pouts. The amber-brown of his eyes is annoyingly irresistible, and you know it because of how hot the back of your neck suddenly feels. There’s a hint of a taunting smile on his face, as if he knows.

You take him to the fire escape outside your bedroom window. It’s barely past five and it’s already gotten dark. Luckily, your bedroom faces an empty alley.

"I’m not some circus act, just so you know," you warn him.

"Please," he tuts. "If anything, we both are. Two arachno-freaks."

"You should rebrand as that," you say with a grin.

You shoot a web to the fire escape railing above you, holding yourself up and swinging like you're in P.E. climbing a rope. You feel ridiculous, to say the least. You quickly shoot more webs after a quick scan of your surroundings to swaddle yourself in something resembling a cocoon. It hangs like a playground swing from the metal above.

"Holy shit! Does it ever… run out? Do you get web blocks? Does it come out of anywhere else–"

"I’m not answering that." Your cheeks heat up at the insinuation.

"Sorry, just curious." He holds his palms up in defense, then reaches to touch a fingertip to the silk holding you together. It feels soft like cotton candy and is much less sticky than what came out of his web shooters.

He asks you to swing with him, and for some reason, you say yes. You don’t like to swing very much, and if you do, you try to look for construction sites or abandoned scaffolding to evade attention. Tonight, however, the New York City lights look warm against the velvety backdrop of the sky, and you decide that flying through the air with someone else feels better than doing it alone.

____

He doesn’t understand your desire to stay under the radar. Whenever he brings it up, you take the opportunity to bring up the New York City disasters that have gone underway before the two of you even graduate. If anything, you’ve been a decent backup, but you refuse to be in the public eye. You don’t want to be Spider-girl.

But you don’t mind swinging around the city in your handmade suit, spun and woven together with the silk that flows straight from your fingertips. It’s one thing that Peter’s jealous of, but it helps him when he needs to patch up a wound when he’s on the go with you.

Peter comes through your window with a red gash on his thigh. You can smell him before you see him.

"Ugh, you broke the streak. Five days without a scratch. That’s a record for you, Parker," you sigh, already rummaging through your drawers for the usual first-aid kit.

"I’m fine." He winces as he crouches down carefully on the floor. You’ve gotten good at minding your business and not asking about his wounds, at least not ones that aren’t too deep into the flesh. He knows it would only hurt you if you knew.

"And yet you’re here."

"I wanted to see you. You know I always want to see you."

You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. You kneel before him, pouring hydrogen peroxide onto the gash as you dab gently with a hand towel. He hisses and grabs your forearm with more force than he intends to.

"You’ll be fine," you reassure him gently.

"Yeah. I could've done it, you know," he says as he carefully holds your gaze.

"‘S’fun sometimes," you reply without looking at him. Carefully, you wrap gauze around his leg. "When I was little, my neighbor and I used to play House, but it always turned into, like… Hospital. And I’d pretend to be a nurse and take care of her, I’d tuck her into bed, and I’d give her lollipops from my Halloween stash for being a good patient."

Peter chuckles. He wobbles slightly as he stands up with your help.

"Am I a good patient?"

"Mm. A very brave boy," you say as you pat his cheek.

"What, I don’t get a treat?"

"Your treat is staying alive." You take him by the wrist towards your living room couch.

He doesn’t know what he’d do without you. It’s not right for him to think of you as an extension of himself, but he often yearns for your presence like a phantom limb whenever you aren’t on patrol with him. He realizes you're the yin to his yang.

It excites him, the images of you two that end up on the Internet. How good you look together. You, on the other hand, dread any semblance of perception by the world.

"People are catching on, you know. Ned found a subreddit on you the other day," Peter murmurs into your lap.

You snort, rolling your eyes the way you always do. You fiddle with the soft strands of his hair. It’s second nature to you. "Ned needs to reduce his screen time tenfold."

"Rabbit."

You sigh dramatically at the nickname. He’d adopted it after the many jumpscares he’d give you when he’d sneak into your room at night. You’d become so accustomed to him that your spider-sense would dull when it came to Peter. He was your source of comfort.

"What, Pete?"

"Why don’t you patrol with me?"

"You know why." It’s too stressful. Too public. Too many run-ins with death that you can anticipate.

"It’s better when you’re around."

"You’re a big boy, Peter," you murmur. Your hand slides across his scalp again, this time with your fingertips settling in the space behind his ears. You aren’t looking at him; instead, you are watching the documentary on the television at a low volume. He crumples at your touch.

"May says you’re my guardian angel. Every time something really bad has happened, it always worked out because you were there."

"I mean, it probably helps when you have another Spider-person as a backup."

"I think she’s right, though."

You don’t say anything. You’re tempted to reply with something sardonic or self-deprecating. You put too much faith in me. But you can’t – he’s looking at you with something that you can’t fathom. Something earnest and entirely too fragile. You have to look away.

He hums, sighing into a tattered copy of Hamlet. "I can’t deal with any more Shakespeare."

"You’re such a slow reader despite being a goddamn genius."

"Did you just say something nice about me?" Peter raises a brow.

"Oh my God, relax, Big Bang Theory."

He scoffs and swallows down a smart-ass remark. A grin lingers in his mouth as he settles back into the book.

____

You’re apart from Peter for the first time since age sixteen. You don’t tell him – you don’t tell anyone – but you decide on an out-of-state university because you don’t want to feel tethered to him. Your friends consider you and Peter a package deal, and yes, he’s probably the first real best friend you’ve ever had, but the gnawing inside of you telling you that distance is needed doesn’t stop.

You, the black sheep, are the antithesis of your hero of a best friend, despite being bitten by the same spider. You’ve always wondered if your story was supposed to play out like some sort of Shakespearean tragedy because of your bond with Peter, so you decide to take your mind off of it. At least it won’t be as painful as severing it completely.

It feels free to be away from all the chaos. In Rhode Island, you can focus on your art and fold your feelings away in a neat little envelope. You’d rather die than let any of that out, especially when Peter insists on such frequent FaceTime calls.

Sometimes, you fall asleep to the sound of his voice. He tells you about taking a train down to Providence in the middle of September to visit you like some kind of long distance boyfriend. The thought makes something in your stomach bloom and stagger in the same way. He doesn’t keep his promise – chem labs are already kicking his ass halfway to Thanksgiving break, not to mention the crime rate in New York City rockets beyond normal.

Thanksgiving comes, and both of you are the same. Peter is exactly as boyish as you left him three months ago, though his brown hair has grown longer and he wears blue-light readers to help with the mild headaches he gets from staring at screens.

He isn't attached to your hip like you expected. Your week off is filled with missed texts and a marathon of TV shows about broken women—the kind with dark humor and falling in love with priests.

The next time you see him, your roommate is out of town. It's not an unusual occurrence given how little she spends time in the dorm, always elsewhere with her new boyfriend.

Peter takes up so much space in your bed that you almost offer to push the two twin beds together, but the feeling of his warmth is too comforting. Propped against the wall, you’re hip-to-hip with him as you scroll through Netflix on your laptop.

You can feel him staring. It becomes routine, or maybe it’s your senses, but you can always tell when he’s merely observing you, watching you carefully like ripples on a pond. You've never really chastised him about it, but it doesn't help that you know he can tell when you're nervous. He has you memorized.

He likes the way you look when you concentrate. Sometimes, when you’re deep in thought, he likes to take his thumb and smooth out the ridges of your furrowed brows even though you end up swatting him away. When he does this now, you look up at him with wide, doe eyes.

"Still as indecisive as ever."

"I have to be, otherwise you’ll just put on Gilmore Girls," you scoff.

"You’re the one who showed me that!" Peter protests.

"And then it was the only thing you wanted to watch to the point where I genuinely considered locking you out of my Netflix account!"

He doesn’t bother to argue, instead resorting to poking you in the side. You squirm immediately, yelping as he continues. He flashes you a leering grin as you whine in dissent, flinching from the feather-like touch of his fingertips dancing across your skin.

"You’re so annoying," you huff, curling your body toward the wall.

"And you love it."

More than you’d ever know.

You pause, rolling your eyes at him. You contemplate kicking him again just to get a rise out of him, anything other than the short silence between you that feels more present than it should be. Your stomach feels warm at his proximity, but then again, Peter’s built like a human furnace anyway.

When you attempt to playfully shove him, he catches your wrist with quick reflexes until the two of you are tangled together. It’s easy to fight with him when you’re both running off the same biological fuel. When he ends up on top of you, you forget how to breathe.

The two of you stare at each other like this, as if frozen in time. It’s you who looks away first, then back to his big brown eyes, settling a palm to his cheek. You can feel how hard he is. You wonder if he knows.

It’s something you’ve only thought about in your subconscious, in dreams, or in moments when you’re bandaging his wounds. How would it feel to have his skin all over yours? It’s a selfish thought, but it rings in your brain without warning at times like these, times of such closeness. The spider bit the two of you for a reason. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.

It’s a curious thing for sure, but there are doors you don’t want to open yet.  

"One episode and then I pick a movie," you mumble.

____

You don’t tell him about transferring when you come back for Christmas break. It feels embarrassing, despite knowing that he’d be ecstatic about the news. RISD proved to be too difficult for your one-track mind as you found yourself sleeping in more and more, flaking on the most rigorous of classes due to your mood. You’d successfully gotten into Pratt for the next semester and were fully moved out, thankfully. But when you see Peter in the arms of another, you wish you hadn't left.

You should’ve expected it, maybe. Peter had always had a thing for Michelle Jones but could never quite get past the friend zone. It seems as though your absence has nudged him further.

No, that feels too selfish to say.

But it’s still too difficult to bear in the loneliness of December, knowing that when the New Year’s parties hit, you’re still the black sheep. Even in a shiny little dress.

You don’t see him much over winter break, but he gets you a silver necklace for Christmas with a spider pendant hanging on it. It’s more sentimental than you expect, and it’s the nicest gift you’ve ever received. It certainly beats the Lego set you’d gotten for him.

Now, in your black cocktail dress, you smile dopily at Ned Leeds as the rest of the room counts down at the television, waiting for the ball to drop. It’s bittersweet when you remember last year’s countdown, in which Peter insisted the two of you swung out to Manhattan to watch the ball drop in person. You remember how much you wanted to kiss him then, but you didn’t. Thank God for his hero's anonymity and the impediment of his suit.

"Five, four, three, two, one – Happy New Year!"

Makeshift confetti falls to the ground as you watch him and MJ kiss. There’s enough champagne in your system for your heart to grow warm at the sight of it.  

____

January is cold. Desolate. Even if you have your friends around you in New York, the place that feels most like home, you’ve come to realize. But there’s still something missing, something lacking. Like you’re inside a familiar place inside a dream.

You ignore the itch, learning to numb it with champagne. It worked on New Year’s, and now it’s been working for several weeks. You don’t leave your apartment.

Even though Peter Parker is a text or phone call away, you fade into the background of his life, watching him through newsreels and YouTube videos. You’re on his mind more than you’d expect. He doesn’t know why, though he does realize that your absence bothers him in small ways.

Sometimes, when he’s on patrol, he’s frustrated by his loneliness, especially in the dead of winter. You were never one to play the hero – he knew that – but it was still comforting to have someone to patch up his wounds or soften his fall. The webs that flow from your fingertips have always been strong, enough to form hammocks in between the corners of his bedroom or a makeshift suit.

And then there are the dreams. They feel real, vivid, and much too physical for something that his mind could conjure in his unconscious. You had only kissed him once before (in real life, that is), at a stupid basement party in the ninth grade, before the two of you were friends, but shortly after the initial spider bite. Although it’s something that’s only been brought up as a joke these past few years, Peter remembers vividly how hard his heart was pounding when the glass bottle landed on you after what felt like an excruciatingly long spin. He could never forget the feeling. He wonders if you feel the same.

It’s not something he should be thinking about right now. Especially when you’re not his girlfriend. He’d rather die a thousand deaths than have you know what you do to him in his dreams when you’re nothing but a reverie of your own silk-spun webs and soft, bare skin. You treat him like prey. He loves it.

Peter can nearly smell you, that sandalwood-citrus shampoo of yours, and your warm breath over his face. Your little whispers of praise, your tiny whimpers. The image of your eyes struggling to stay open while you’re underneath him is burned into his brain.

"I missed you," you say breathlessly. "Missed you so much."

God, how is this a dream? He can feel you so clearly. Until he doesn't, and he wakes up with a groan, an exhale, and an excess of sweat on his brow. Not to mention a dampness below him.

"Fucking Christ," he curses under his breath.

The ghost of you is on his bedroom ceiling, in the corner of his room. Something nearby smells like you, even though you haven’t been in his room in ages. This makes something in his chest hurt until he decides to get out of bed.

He wants to see you, but he feels guilty knowing what he's just dreamt about. He can’t help that the person that makes him feel the most human is the only other one who shares the venom in his blood.

Sometimes he follows you. It feels almost meditative for him to sit on a rooftop and watch you from the window of your favorite cafe, reading and writing and breathing. The brightness of his phone screen illuminates his face as his eyes scan over your contact. Your face smiles back at him, but there’s a distance considering the lack of texts between the two of you over the past month. He sighs as he zooms in on your location – the two of you had shared each others’ years ago and only found it convenient to keep.

Peter doesn’t know why he’s feeling all this yearning all of a sudden – sometimes he recognizes the feeling in his body and he thinks of you and he thinks of safety. Other times, like now, he knows that it only breeds guilt.

But he misses being quiet with you, misses the mundane intimacies of him poking you and you fixing his hair. All the small expressions you make with your face that only he notices. There’s something empty in the space he usually holds for you in his heart, and he doesn’t know why.

He has to see you. Maybe then, something in his brain will click, or he’ll see you as the old friend you’ve always been, and he can blame the heat in his body on his subconscious.

You’re predictable with your routine, because this afternoon, he finds you in your usual spot by the window at your favorite cafe again. You’re writing in your journal with your noise-canceling headphones on, so Peter’s presence is completely unknown to you. After he gets his coffee, he watches you from afar, just for a little bit.

As if on cue, you already know. The moment you skip a song and a millisecond of silence fills the space in your head, you feel him immediately. You always know when he’s around.

"Peter," you murmur without thinking. Your gaze is soft but carries the surprise of a deer caught in headlights.

"Hey," he smiles. "Mind if I sit here?"

He gestures to the armchair across from you, and you nod.

Peter knows how to coax your warmth from you, because within minutes, he has you talking about school, what’s on your mind, and why it feels better to be holed up in a cafe than sit miserably at home. You do the same for him, though you notice he’s more reserved for some reason – he’s tight-lipped about MJ, and doesn’t delve into the details of his hero work. He prefers to bombard you with questions instead, listening intently to your most recent fixations or the newest movie you saw alone in theaters.

"You replaced me yet, Rabbit?" he teases you.

"Never," you scoff, tipping your coffee cup to hide any embarrassment on your face. You haven’t heard him call you that in so long. "You know me. I’m a lone wolf."

"Pratt seems like your crowd though, no? No one at Midtown High was a match for you. You were way too cool."

"Mmm, true, yet you’re my best friend."

"Hey!"

Your laugh is like a song to him; he can’t help but smile ear to ear when he hears it.

"The only person who talks to me at school is this guy Cam from my ceramics class. He’s actually from Brooklyn so we took the train together to get home and he’s around for break, which is cool."

Peter’s face nearly goes cold at the sound of someone else’s name, though he stays composed.

"Fun. Are you two…" He gestures vaguely.

"We hooked up like, once, but I don’t really know where it’s going." You say it so nonchalantly like it’s an afterthought. You’re not even looking at Peter.

"If he fucks anything up, you know where to find me."

You smile, rolling your eyes in that bashful way you do when you shrug things off, and it’s more apparent to Peter now how much he adores all your little quirks and mannerisms. He realizes that he might have them all memorized.

"We’re actually going to a party tonight if you want to come. A friend of a friend’s birthday party in Manhattan, I think? I think her name was Anna?"

"Oh, my friend Gwen knows her and invited me!"

"Small world." You swallow down the image of Peter at the party with an ESU girl for a second, and it feels rough in your throat. But you’ll manage. You always do. "Is MJ coming?"

Peter shakes his head. "Ah, she’s in Philly visiting family. I’ll probably go with Gwen and her boyfriend Harry, though."

You feel shame in your relief. It’s sickening how much you have to bury your desire and your tenderness because you know better. You know that even though the two of you were bitten by the same spider, it doesn’t mean you’re necessarily compatible. Sometimes you think your attraction to Peter is some biological fluke determined by the cells in both of your bodies. And then you think, God, how can anyone look into his brown eyes and not feel a thing?

You're both warm in your chests as you part ways, waiting for your next meeting.

____

The night of the party, Peter revels in the sight of you wearing your spider necklace, which sparkles under the flashing lights of the penthouse apartment you’re both in. His mood dampens when he notices the tall boy attached to your hip like a guard dog.

It’s a stupid game and he knows it. The way he pretends not to see you or acknowledge your presence is cruel, but it feels safe for now. He doesn’t feel ready. He’s high off some gummy that Harry had given him an hour earlier, and it’s still fogging his senses, and even though he can be cloudy and nonchalant at this party, his paranoia precedes him. It feels like you’re everywhere.

He shouldn’t feel this way. Why does he feel this way? You’re his best friend and you have your own life that’s separate from his – he knew this would happen the moment he found out you were going to different colleges. Despite that, there’s a piece of you tethered to him that he can’t bear to cut off. It makes him feel sane, the parts of you that you’ve given him.

But now, he sees you laughing and swaying your hips with someone else’s hands resting on your waist and it makes his face burn.

"Dude," Gwen snaps her fingers in front of his face. Peter blinks back at her. "Are you good?"

"Yeah, sorry."

"Harry wanted to do a shot, you want to join?"

Peter nods numbly, following the blonde to the kitchen. He watches everyone else in the kitchen pour shots and drinks like they are rehearsed marionettes. Harry snaps him out of his daze once he slams down a shot glass full of vodka in front of him.

"Drink up, Parker!" Harry cheers.

The alcohol burns Peter’s throat, but he feels the head rush and the warmth. It feels good, makes him feel looser. Malleable. Invincible, maybe, if he took two or three more. But he knows he has to pace himself. He hates that his default setting is to look for you no matter where he is. But when he scans the room this time, you’re downing a glass of champagne alone.

Your body feels heavy at the moment, so you don’t register him plopping down on the couch next to you. You wake up to the sound of his voice as you always do.

"Hey, you."

"Hey."

Your glass of champagne is empty, so you take the beer bottle out of Peter’s hand without saying a word, and he lets you. He watches you gulp a bit of it down. Maybe you’re a little too drunk. Maybe you’re imagining the way his eyes scan your body.

You’re drunk enough to feel social, but truthfully, you’re deathly afraid of being alone with anyone right now. Being alone with someone would make you feel much too raw and vulnerable, so you convince Peter to introduce you to his friends that you’ve never met, and you try to cope with the fact that they look like they were cut straight out of a magazine.

"Peter talks about you all the time," Gwen gushes, sipping from her champagne flute.

"He does?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course," she nods incessantly.

"Only incredible reviews all around," Harry nods, drunkenly slinging an arm around Peter’s shoulders. The brunette smiles sheepishly, bashfully. You raise an eyebrow at him along with a coy smile.

"Should hope so," you tease. "He wouldn’t have gotten through high school without me."

It’s mostly a lie considering Peter was the star student and you were barely second to him. Maybe fifth or sixth. In a way, your words are true, because Peter’s agreeing with you.

You zone out as he starts a story from junior year and you have half the mind to chime in when needed. Harry suddenly puts a whisky coke in your hand and you don’t want to refuse out of politeness, but you know the mix of different alcohol will have your head banging in the morning. Peter downs half of his within a millisecond.

"What?" he asks when he notices you making a face.

"Since when do you drink so much?"

"It’s a party," he shrugs.

"Peter, when I brought you to your first party, you refused to drink anything that wasn’t a fruity canned cocktail. You won’t go near wine let alone whiskey."

"A semester at ESU changes you," Harry interjects. "He’s still a little fruity, though."

Peter chastises him as you and Gwen laugh. As the boys bicker, Gwen gets your attention. She asks you mundane questions, like your major, your zodiac sign, and what you thought of the season finale of White Lotus. You’re grateful when she beckons you to follow her to the kitchen to make another whiskey coke.

Her glossed lips twist to the side, eyes bright with a teasing glance. She has the ability to make you feel calm, almost excited to be there.

"He is obsessed with you," she sneers.

"What do you mean?"

"He just talked about you so much when we met him that I had to stalk your Insta, and I was like Jesus Christ, that makes so much sense. If I wasn’t with Harry I’d snatch you up myself. And then when I met his girlfriend and I was confused that it wasn’t you. Unless you’re doing that, like, exes-that-are-still-best-friends thing."

You blush and nearly choke on your drink. "Peter and I never dated."

"Seriously?"

You say nothing, only forcing an amused smile. You don’t know where to put her assumptions, but you sure as hell can’t keep them.

"I’m actually, uh, here with someone," you mutter, pretending to look around. Briefly, you lock eyes with Peter on the couch, who’s pretending to listen to Harry's rambling. Your eyes flit away quickly. "I think I might step outside for a smoke and look for him."

You don’t have to turn around to know that Peter’s eyes are following you. Or maybe you’re just drunk and projecting. Gwen’s bubbly nature makes her seem like the type to gossip, and just because your best friend happened to talk about you doesn’t mean that there was anything under the surface. But then you notice his slightly nervous energy tonight, the silver necklace around your neck, and the last time he visited you months before, when his body was so close to yours.

A pair of hands situate themselves on your waist and it makes you jump. The warmth feels different, as does the sudden smell of sharp cologne, and then you feel your heart drop the slightest bit when you hear his voice.

"Was looking for you," Cam slurs. You can smell the beer breath as he exhales on your neck, making you shiver.

"You sure? Because you’ve been MIA for like forty-five minutes."

You try to keep your voice even, sighing when he plants a kiss on your neck. Any animosity in your tone is completely ignored.

"I was catching up with some people that I wanted to introduce you to," he says, tugging you along by the wrist like a child. You pull up a chair to a firepit surrounded by a group of strangers, and the charade of icebreakers returns. There’s no point in remembering anyone’s name.

You think about returning inside to look for Peter or maybe Gwen and Harry, but being on Cam’s lap is distracting you. At some point, a joint a passed around, and the feeling of the boy’s arms around you makes it easy to melt into nothing.

____

You’re right. You always are. Peter Parker doesn’t drink, and he’s never drunk this much in his entire life. He’s been sitting in the bathtub for… how long? He doesn’t know. All he knows is that his senses were dulled to the point of detachment and he needed to get alone to ground himself.

He’s so out of it that he doesn’t realize someone’s knocking on the door of the bathroom, and his reaction time is too slow before Harry barges in.

"Are you hiding in the bathtub?" Harry squints.

"No, I’m just… hangin’ out," Peter stammers.

Harry snaps out of the facade of a confused daze and shrugs, unbuckling his belt with nonchalance in front of the toilet.

"Dude!"

"What? I’m turned around!"

Sighing, Peter looks around his surroundings. Generic brand shampoo and conditioner. A deformed bar of soap. A red solo cup with clear liquid. He remembers suddenly – he’d filled an empty cup he found with sink water before getting in the tub.

His brain swims with dizziness and mild nausea that mix up his stomach. Gulping down the water, his throat burns immediately, only to realize that it isn’t water at all. It’s fucking vodka and seltzer. Harry’s turned around again, cackling before washing his hands.

"Idiot."

"Fuckingshitjesusfuckingchrist," Peter groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You should just drink straight vodka at this point, man."

"Oh, I do," Harry agrees. He crouches down, squatting to meet Peter at eye level. A warm palm taps Peter’s cheek. "You good, bro?"

"Mmm," Peter nods. His breathing turns shallow as he hunches over, pulling his knees into his chest.

"Jesus, you need to get home, don’t you?"

"‘m fine. You go home."

"Gwen’s been nagging me to for the past ten minutes, so I might. I’d let you crash on the couch, but we’re getting up early to go upstate. How are you getting home, bro?"

Harry frowns when he realizes Peter is barely listening. "Pete!"

He grimaces at Harry’s constant fidgeting. With an annoyed sigh, he shoos the other boy away with flailing arms.

"Heard you," he slurs. "I’ll– I’ll share an Uber with Y/N."

Harry sighs with exasperation, pulling Peter’s arm forcefully to get him out of the tub and down to the living room of the house. Peter is dizzy in his vision, clumsy in his movements, but finds clarity when he glances towards the couch and sees you sitting there with furrowed brows.

"Peter? Are you okay?" you ask.

"Yeah, absolutely not," Harry says. "Gwen and I gotta head home and we’re leaving early tomorrow so he can’t crash. You guys are like, neighbors, right?"

You swallow a lump in your throat, briefly turning your head to glance back at Cam, then back at Peter. He looks at you with a guilty cadence, though his eyes lull with a tiredness that is unusual for him. He’s corpse-like, still hanging onto Harry’s shoulder like a lifeline. It makes the pit of your stomach stir.

It’s unlike him, to be this drunk. The only other time Peter has been this drunk was once in high school, when he was slurring his words all night and determined to clutch you like a teddy bear in his twin-sized bed. You recall his warmth and how his post-puberty figure appeared gargantuan to your body. Foreign, but warm. Comforting. When you think about taking Peter home tonight, you feel like you aren’t allowed to lay next to a body that doesn’t belong to you.

"Yeah, I’ll take him home."

____

"Coulda swung home myself," the boy mumbles. You hit him on the arm and give him a chastising look. Thankfully, your current Uber driver speaks a limited amount of English, not to mention the radio is on blast.

"You couldn’t have. You’re so fucking drunk, you’d kill yourself," you hiss in a low tone.

"Not if you were with me."

"Well, I wouldn’t be. I wasn’t even gonna go home tonight."

"Ah. Of course. Cam,” he exasperates. “Is he your boyfriend?"

You sigh. "No, he’s not."

"Right, you don’t… you don’t do boyfriends," Peter murmurs, rubbing his face with the palm of his hand.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing."

The car stops in front of Peter’s apartment building.

"Thank you," you say stiffly to the Uber driver as you drag Peter out of the car. The elevator ride is awkward and quiet, as is the fumbling of keys when Peter tries to unlock the door.

He leans on your body as you coerce him into his bedroom, with him thumping onto his bottom bunk.

"Jesus. I feel like if Richie Rich called you an Uber himself you could’ve easily made it up the elevator by yourself. Right, Pete?"

"Mhmm. He’s such. A worry wart. For some rea–" Peter makes a gulping sound that makes your face pale. Immediately, you grab his trash bin and place it between his feet.

"‘m not gonna puke."

"I think you might, Peter."

He pauses and examines you as you kneel in front of him. He’s so drunk, so awfully drunk, but he has enough sense in him to take the caution that the anxious voice in the back of his head commands. But fuck, you look so pretty. He doesn’t know what to do about it.

Peter takes a strand of your hair in his hands and curls it around his finger. His shallow breaths feel louder than they should be. Or maybe they’re yours. He can’t really tell.

"What?"

"Nothing," he shrugs. "I won’t vomit. I promise."

You sigh.

"I should get going–"

"Can you stay for a little?"

Swallowing, you nod. You get into bed with him, because, quite frankly, you’ve had your fair share of alcohol tonight, and laying down in Peter’s warm bed makes you want to melt off the bone.

"I'm sorry for fucking up your night." Peter turns to lie on his side and drapes an arm carefully around you. His hand is feather-bare on your hip.

"You didn’t."

"You were gonna go home with Cam."

"It’s fine, Peter. I wanted to make sure you were safe."

"Like a chore."

"Not like a chore."

"Yeah, okay."

He does that thing again – holds a strand of your hair in his hands. He runs his fingertips nimbly across your scalp as if he’s handling an injured bird. As if he’s afraid you’d bite.

Your eyes are huge, like flying saucers. He used to say that all the time, especially whenever you came to his apartment after experimenting with any new drugs. You only felt safe with him – you had told him that – and he took care of you and your big eyes and your tendencies toward erratic behavior. He always knew how to calm you down. And now, in your adult lives, you were doing it for him.

You let him keep his hands in your hair and he doesn’t know why. There’s a theory he wants to test – one that he dreams about even when he knows he shouldn’t. He thinks about it in vulnerable moments. He considers that maybe this is a vulnerable moment.

His fingertips trace your face between the edge of your eyebrow and the baby hairs on your hairline. He taps along your temple gently, smoothing across the softness of your skin until he sculpts down your cheek and jaw. He blinks once, then twice. And then he rests the pad of his thumb on the corner of your mouth.

Almost automatically, you part your lips. Your mouth is pink, dusted with a purplish-red in the center from the merlot you’d drank hours before, and he wants to lick it off you.

He feels your heart beating, too, and you can hear his. It's a loud bang that resonates in between your eardrums. It’s that shared venom that makes your bodies so acquainted with one another. You briefly consider whether a human body can overheat and burn away simply by being touched by another. You wonder how human the two of you can really be.

You close your eyes.

"What are you doing?" you whisper. Your voice is gossamer-thin, barely there, but you’re so close to him that he hears it so clearly.

"Whatever you want." His voice is dripping honey.

You shake your head, still with your eyes closed. Peter’s hand descends to your jaw, thumb on your bone, with the rest of his fingers warming up your neck. You feel like you might just choke on the feeling of it.

"No, that’s not fair. That’s not… okay."

"What?"

"You’re drunk, Peter. Don’t do that to me. Please."

"What am I doing?"

Your face scrunches up as your eyes open to look at him with a pained expression. You have to close them again. You don’t want to look at him. You want his hands off of you, so you push them away.

"You’re with MJ."

"I… I know."

Your face is crumpled as you inch out of his bed. You’re back to kneeling on the floor in front of him.

"Please don’t leave," Peter whispers.

"I’m tired. I’ll sleep on the top bunk," you mumble. You try not to let him catch you sniffling.

"Goodnight.” You don’t respond.

He falls asleep shortly after and smells your perfume even in his dreams. When he wakes up, he smells you. But you’re nowhere to be found. There’s only the cold air coming from a crack of his window left slightly open.

____

It’s not your fault, but you’ve broken his heart a million times. The night of the party was the most recent one. To be fair, he had also broken your heart. He was just too fucking drunk to remember most of it.

You’ve become a ghost, barely texting Peter back, and when you do, your responses are short and clipped. You don’t have much time to hang out, and he realizes he doesn’t either, not when he has MJ to spend time with along with his Spider-Man duties.

But he would make time for you if you wanted it. He wonders if you know that. He feels too ashamed to tell you that himself.

It’s been like this before, and he’s been able to cope. The way you’re on his brain and won’t leave —stuck on him like a parasite. It’s his fault, he decides, not yours. He knows he’s not being fair. Not to you, not to MJ, not to himself. But he keeps it all in and hopes it doesn’t boil over.

Truthfully, Peter wants to avoid everyone. He understands now why you abhor winter to the degree that you always have. The desolation is too much to bear when there’s not much sunlight in January to activate dopamine receptors, so Peter sleeps in longer than he should. Late enough for Aunt May to get on his case about it.

"Something’s up with you," MJ accuses him on a Thursday evening. It’s one of their ritual movie nights with pizza and wine.

"Huh? Nothing’s up," Peter shrugs.

"No, I know you. Something’s wrong."

"I’m fine, Em." A lie.

It’s a miracle that Michelle Jones sees through Peter’s bullshit because it means that she has the incentive to protect herself from any future bullshit that may break her later on. Peter is too numb to process any of it. There was the refusal of admission, the attempt to keep up the wall of his emotions, which crashed down soon enough by the time MJ was out of the door.

He thinks he should call you, but he doesn’t.

____

Peter is used to scrapes and bruises. He’s seen more than enough charred flesh than a nineteen-year-old should. You had never asked to be his caretaker, but over the course of years, that was what you became. His guardian angel.

He used to make excuses to come over after patrol, trying to coax you out of your nest of a room for just an evening. He'd always known you were far more talented than you gave yourself credit for when it came to spider abilities, but it felt more like a curse than a gift for you to bear.

Some nights, he dreams of you falling stories beneath him. Your face is covered in rubble and ash, and although his nightmares often start with this, he knows that somehow, it’s his fault. It feels visceral, the burning in his calloused hands. Torn lycra to show the dirt underneath his fingernails. Hot tears dripping.

He starts taking that Ambien you gave him years ago.

After that, each day passes like he’s trapped in a nightmarish purgatory. No, that’s an exaggeration. He’s just a victim of a New York winter, and he misses you more than he wants to admit to himself or anyone else.

"I can take care of myself." And with that, the image of you disappears.

"I know," he murmurs softly. He’s always known. It is insignificant in comparison to how badly he wants to take care of you if you let him. Your voice echoes in the cavern of his room. You get farther away by the second until you disappear completely, and he evidently wakes up.

Even in your worst state, he’s obsessed with your honeyed skin. It doesn’t matter the number of bruises or cuts – he caresses them all with his nimble fingertips, and he’s ready to kiss them until they heal. He thinks about this sometimes, how much he cares for you and your body. What he'd do if you just let him in, let him devour you however he pleases, and it disgusts him.

In his dreams where you’re hurt, he’s willing to sacrifice whatever he can so that you can revert to your clean, unbothered state. I’d never let anyone break you. It’s a prayer for him. One that he whispers in your ear whenever he can, at least in these dreams. In reality, he knows that he has to let you go because he knows you. Knows how much you want to be free and alone. How you can take care of yourself. You’re not a damsel in distress – you never have been. But Peter feels like he was made to care for you. It would gut him all the same regardless of whether you loved him or not, and he was willing.

When it’s real, he doesn’t know what to do. He didn’t ever think the two of you would be in this position.

He’s been in enough battles to know how these things end. Mr. Stark had walked him through it all and been by his side while the rest of the Avengers repaired the other broken bits of the universe.

Right now is one of those unique times, the quiet and wretched ones, where Peter is contemplating breath after breath before imagining the full picture. Shambles of the street he’s in. The ache of his bruised body and the blood that he sees from yours, that he shouldn’t have seen, because you said it yourself. You’re not a fucking hero. So why is your blood streaked on the palm of his hands?

The distance between you and Peter doesn’t matter – it never does. The moment you’d felt a dread stirring in your stomach, there was a sharp pain in your head that refused to leave unless the working adrenaline in your body was satiated. It wasn’t the same adrenaline that circulated within you from a night of debauchery – instead, it felt like poison. A compulsory kind of pain, a sharp jolt to your senses. Tonight, you’d felt Peter in danger, and it would’ve killed you if you couldn’t get to him. He'd been the destination you'd been dead set on by the end of the night because of your spider instincts.

The police broadcast was too muffled for you to understand much of it, but you picked out the parts where Spider-Man was mentioned and followed through on them. Although you didn’t fall into the shadow of his hero work, you still kept enough tabs on Peter to know where he would usually be on patrol. It wasn’t like he knew, or that you’d ever told him, but when he was starting out as another guard dog for the Avengers in high school, you needed to at least know his approximate location in the event that something went terribly wrong.

An explosion blasts in the center of a park, where the two of you would meet in the middle between Queens and Stark Tower. This is where you lay your courage down. This is where you find Spider-Man’s mangled body before anyone else does.

"Peter," you huff. "S’gonna be okay. You with me? I’m gonna make sure you’re okay."

He’s just less than conscious, the stretch of his animated eyes limited by his weakness. When he sees your face, however, his face glows – not that you can see it through his mask.

He says your name with a fervor that surprises you. His voice is raspy.

"‘m fine. I have to stay," he grunts, his pain palpable. You know that he’s telling the truth, but you don’t want to leave him alone in his misery.

"Peter. You’re hurt."

"You go home. I’ll come find you later. Just let me–"

"You’re fucking limping."

You had always carried yourself like a feather-like, lithe ghost. Quiet, whereas Peter was bold, despite the fact that his anxious nature had rendered him a boyish thing all these years. This is why he’s surprised that you carry him easily with your supernatural strength. He forgets that you have the same abilities as him. If anything, he’d think you were stronger than him in every way.

Even with his thick skin, he melts into something malleable, comfortable. The solace of your arms makes him feel better already.

A pang of small guilt rots away within him, knowing the circumstances of your last meeting. You’re too good. He didn’t deserve to be saved by you, to be patched up with your nimble fingers like he had been treated when he was younger and more naive.

"I can make it to my place, it’s okay," he rasps gently.

You don’t have to say anything, because bullshit radiates through the stern expression of your eyes, your mouth in a grimace. You had always been stubborn and today isn’t an exception. With your webs, you crochet a path for him toward your home, lifting and catching the boy effortlessly as you swing.

A gentle sigh escapes his mouth when the two of you crawl into the safety of your fire escape. The night is quiet behind you. When he looks at you, you have to look away, fixing your hair nervously or occupying your gaze anywhere but in his direction. His eyes are poignant in their longing, though you’re unsure of what he could be thinking. If he’s sorry about before. If he’s ashamed.

Your wispy webs wrap around the parts of him that hurt, but you wince when you check on him to see that the white fibers are slowly saturated with the dark crimson of his open wounds.

"Peter, you have to wash up," you whisper. "Shit’s gonna get infected. I can put some gauze on you after you shower."

He nods wordlessly when you ask him if he can manage the shower on his own. He feels vulnerable, and although your presence is always desired by him, he finds relief in the hot steam of your shower, alone with his thoughts. He’s still shaken from the explosion. Not completely catatonic, but tense. As if he isn’t in his body at all.

When Peter emerges from the bathroom, he looks like a stranger. Scars adorn his sides. Your face crumples at the sight of his fresh wounds.

"C’mere."

It doesn’t take you long to fix him up, cleaning his cuts and wrapping gauze around his stomach and chest. His quiet grunts startle you, as if he's a wild animal. Eyes screwed shut, brows cinched in pain. A heavy exhale and a mumbled apology followed.

You forgive him with a soft touch and a hushed whisper. He wishes the ache would stop. He wishes he could lie on your bed and have you whisper in his ear all night until the sound of your voice lulls him to sleep.

There aren’t many words exchanged, and you want to ask him why. If you did something. But then you think about the images on the news and his withered face, and you decide not to probe the sphere of trauma surrounding him. Peter has probably gone through more in the last twelve hours than you have in a week.

You stop him before he tries to make it out of your bedroom door and towards the living room.

"I don’t mind sleeping on the couch, I’ve done it before."

"It’s like sleeping on a rock, Parker. You just gone through God knows what," you chide. "Just… get in here."

As he breathes in and out, he nestles in your shoulder, his clean hair tickling your bare skin. There’s a nasty guilt that lurches from your sternum. As if you were the reason for his pain. For the state of his body. And you think back to the desperate look in Peter’s eyes the night you took him home from the party. Were you too cruel, then?

It’s like he steals the words from your mouth. He beats you to it.

"I’m sorry," Peter murmurs. His amber eyes blink up at you, unfathomable. You flash him a downturned grin.

"For what?"

"I feel like… there’s been a distance between us lately. And I don’t want that, because you’re my best friend. And now you’re taking care of me when you don’t have to. I just wanted you to know that I really appreciate it. That I, um, lo–," he stammers. He chews on his bottom lip. "You’re really good."

"‘m not all that good, Peter."

But of course, you are, he protests in his head. You are the moon and the stars and everything in between.

"I’m sorry for not being around."

"Not just your fault," you shrug. "Phone works both ways."

He knows you better than you think because, within seconds, his palm rests softly on your cheek, where he feels a hot tear.

"What’s up, Spidey?" he asks you. It makes you laugh.

"Shut up." You shake your head, trying to hide your face. The feeling of his thumb rubbing your cheek makes the tears flow even more. "I wouldn’t know what I’d do if something bad happened to you. If I couldn’t get to you. Or if you – if you were gone."

"I’m okay, Rabbit. We’re okay."

"Yeah," you chuckle, trying to hide your tears.

"Couldn’t get rid of me if you tried."

You feel warmer in his grasp. His small breaths fall on your arm as his body curls up next to you. He’s bigger than he’d been before back when you were teenagers. The jaw is chiseled and sharp. Not as soft and boyish as you once knew. With your senses, you can discern the steadiness of his heartbeat as his chest rises and falls into slumber. You fall asleep soon after, dreamless but full of warmth.

____

Waking up next to him is nothing new, but it’s been years. You never thought anything of it when the two of you were sixteen, staying up all night reading creepypastas and watching movies until you’d fall asleep on top of each other by four in the morning.

After a night’s sleep, Peter's sullen face is a bit brighter despite his dark circles. His limbs are entangled in yours, bodies fused together. Yin and yang. You can only assume that this is how it will always be.

You keep mental notes of him like trinkets. The uneven slant in his left eyebrow. The faint freckles dotted along his nose, the one near the corner of his mouth. The faint shadow of hollowed-out cheeks. Peter is still half-boy to you, and half-man, but you didn’t want to come to terms with it. Maybe he was something else. Half-ghost. Half-angel.

Slowly, over the course of a few weeks, he comes back to you again. Sitting together and reading at a cafe. The occasional 3 am swing. Walking around high at the 7-11.

"Did you like Rhode Island?" he asks over a joint one night.

You hum for a second, trying to come up with an acceptable answer. It wasn’t that you hated being in Rhode Island. It was that you hated being away from him.

So instead, you shrug. "It was nice to get away from everything. Providence is still a city, but it isn't as large as all this–”

You trail off, making a vague gesture with your hands. Chaos, Peter presumes.

"Less overwhelming?"

"Sure," you say, nodding. "I missed being home, though."

I missed you.

Peter passes you the joint. His brain feels fuzzy. Warm. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He massages your ankle absentmindedly.

"I get it," he says, breaking the silence.

"You get what?"

"Wanting to leave. I've been thinking about it," Peter shrugs, his eyes squinting in the late afternoon sun. "Sometimes I wish we could pack our bags and go to the countryside. See some cows and shit."

We. We. We.

"There are cows upstate," you snort.

"You know what I mean."

"We can do a road trip."

"You can’t drive."

"I am aware and perfectly fine with being a passenger princess. In fact, I’m looking forward to it," you grin.

He yanks your ankle this time, causing you to slip from where you’re sitting on the pavement. Giggling, you swat away his hands, but he’s too quick, untying your shoelaces as you kick and thrash.

"Honestly, it’s probably better for society if you never get behind the wheel," Peter teases. He dodges you when you try to kick him in the shin.

"Oh, but you can be? You get so distracted so easily! Whenever you’d practice driving, you’d miss so many exits or be too anxious to merge on the highway."

"Okay, well, you’re just a force of distraction," he shrugs, throwing his hands up in defeat. "You have that effect on people."

You look at him quizzically, your eyes narrowing. If there’s anything behind his statement, he doesn’t show it on his face. Peter knows his cheeks are burning, however.

There are more moments like these. Ever since you’d rescued Peter that night, he’s grown accustomed to spending hours of his day idly looking for you, learning your class schedule, and following you home like a pet when it’s time to unwind. He stays for hours like he used to when you were kids, and although he always thinks he’s overstaying his welcome, you don’t seem affected.

You curl into him more these days, like a sunflower stretching toward the morning glow. There are more lingering touches, here and there. You have to remind yourself not to get too comfortable, but God, he makes it so easy.

So the burning question pops out during a marathon of Chainsaw Man.

"Does MJ care that we hang out so much?" you blurt out. He looks at you like you have three heads. Also, his mouth is full.

"Um, webrobrup," he mumbles. He frowns as he looks down. Hot Cheeto fingers.

You mock him, of course.

"English, yeah?"

He chuckles as he finishes scarfing it all down. He shyly licks his fingertips, and you have to stop yourself from staring at the way his fingers enter his mouth. Ugh, gross. This is hardly supposed to be hot.

"We broke up."

You keep a straight face. It’s not like you’re excited or anything. You realize you shouldn’t be surprised because… why else would he be so available to you lately?

"Shit. You really fumbled, then."

"Shut up," he laughs.

"Seriously. Who else is gonna wanna put up with you?" You both know the answer to that.

"It was mutual," he says, shrugging. "I’ve got all my Spider-man shit, she’s getting into a bunch of extracurriculars and even a research internship even though we’re literally first years."

"Classic MJ."

"Yeah."

"We’ll get you back on the market, buddy," you tease, patting his head like a dog. A coy smile lights up your features. It makes something inside him melt.

"I’m not a piece of meat."’

You click your tongue.

"Oh, right, you’re an insect."

"Hey, so are you!"

____

You used to think it was a kind of twin telepathy, the magnetism to Peter that you felt. Bitten by the same spider and entangled in the same web. You realize as you grow older that it’s more than a platonic bond. It feels like wanting to share the same skin.

Or maybe it’s the wine talking.

It’s not your job to keep Peter afloat at the party right now, but both of you remember too well how the last party went. He continually sips water in between gulps of whiskey like a paranoid freak, which you tease him about. Maybe it’s just the darkness of his eyes under this light, but his pupils look wide and dilated.

It’s almost March. You’d both endured a proper New York winter, which usually extends until April if you’re lucky, but global warming has other plans. It's warm enough for you to pair one of your favorite dresses with an oversized Carhartt jacket that used to belong to Peter before the bite bulked him up significantly. You fiddle with the black velvet wrapped around your body as you pretend to listen to banal conversations, leaning your head into Peter’s bicep.

You keep picking at loose threads obsessively. You think about your fingertips and their webs. You think that maybe you should take up crocheting to distract your hands from their restlessness.

Peter grabs your hand away from you, squeezing it slightly, not even looking at you. His flushed palm rests against yours. Gently rubbing your thumb between your finger divots

If you were a cat, Peter would imagine you purring right about now. He wants to take you into his lap, stroke your hair while the alcohol subsides in both of your systems. The thought of you on top of him causes his cock to twitch slightly. His rose-colored cheeks are from the whiskey, he reassures himself. An affirmation. He lets go of your hand.

He knows that this isn't the time or place for such thoughts, so he makes an effort to push the desires down. He knows they'll come up again when the whiskey leaves his veins, but at least he'll be of sober mind.

Christ, he feels like he's at a middle school dance. Especially when you run off with a spring in your step to socialize with some girls you recognize from school. The smell of your hair lingers next to him. It's sweet and slightly floral, a scent that makes him think of when you were kids.

His ears perk up like a dog's when you call his name, reaching out to him so that you can introduce your best friend. He has the right mind to be polite, even funny at times, but he knows he pales in comparison to your current charisma, which contrasts with your usual wallflower nature.

Peter likes watching you talk, and you like that he watches you so intently. When you know he's watching, it's easy to deadpan some drunken jokes and elaborate superfluous tall tales from your high school days. His eyes are bright, and his bottom lip is chewed in between his teeth.

Suddenly, he gets to be alone with you in the kitchen. Your scent permeates the air. He could drown in it.

“Rabbit," you whine petulantly. "Swing me home."

"How drunk are you?" he chuckles with adoration.

"Not very. Just tired, s'all," you respond with a yawn. You scrunch your nose. "Can I sleep at yours?"

Peter looks at you with a soft gaze. "Of course, angel."

Angel. He's never called you that before. You decide that you like the sound of it.

By the time midnight comes around, you're barefoot in his bedroom, black velvet spinning loosely around your figure. In Peter's blurred vision, you look like a friendly apparition, one that particularly favors "Champagne Coast" by Blood Orange.

"Come into my bedroom, come into my bedroom," you quietly sing along as you sway your hips.

"You're already in my room."

Your smile beams at him, huge and illuminating, and impossible to look away from. Peter wishes that he could bottle up this moment to revisit it, or maybe live in it for the rest of his life. The sweetest way to exist.

Your body sinks to his level -- no, collapses -- as you roll over his heavy frame and rest yourself on your back. Your hair fans out like you're underwater. Your lips are red and wine-colored, freshly bitten. When you turn your head toward Peter, his hand plays with the exposed nape of your neck, fingertips grazing the creases of your skin.

"You used to be so gangly, you know," you murmur. Your voice is lower than usual.

"Okay, well, I'm not anymore."

"I could totally still take you in a fight." Still refers to the times when the two of you would attempt something along the lines of combat training, if combat training was just you unleashing your hotheadedness with your mutant powers instead of with your fists. If you weren't so agile, maybe Peter would've had a chance of winning.

"I'd like to see you try, angel."

It's decided -- you are on top of him, knees bent around his waist as you wrestle. The fabric of your dress pools around your waist in a way that feels sacrilegious. Peter has his hand on your thighs, and his touch feels white-hot to both of you, so he closes his eyes, tries to focus on swatting you away like a bat instead. When he opens his eyes, he meets your devilish ones, gleeful that you've managed to pin his arms above his head.

It would take two inches to break this spell of separation. He keeps trying to keep this bubble intact because the last time he tried to pop it, the look on your face made him want to dig a hole and lay in it forever.

Peter feels sorry for many things. He feels sorry for the times he's intruded, when he's made Mr. Stark angry, for the times he couldn't be there for you. He feels sorry that you had to take care of him when he wanted to do that for you.

Right now, however, Peter doesn't feel sorry at all. The slight twitch of your pulse, the way you smell, the curve of your bare shoulders -- it's all too tempting for him to feel sorry for. So he kisses you.

He's surprised when you nearly bite him back. You inhale sharply, pressing your body against him as you let go of his wrists and rest your palms on his jaw instead. Your kiss is fervent, desperate.

His brow cinches in confusion when you pull away.

"Wha--"

"Fuck."

"What is it?" He frowns.

"I owe Ned twenty bucks."

"What?"

"I just remembered. At graduation, he was like, teasing me that we were gonna get together, and we bet on who would make the first move. I was just entertaining him, but you know how that kid gets about twenty dollars."

"So you thought you were going to make the first move, then?”

“I mean, yeah. How was I supposed to know that MJ was going to cuff you before I did?”

“You snooze, you lose, I guess,” he deadpans.

“You don’t even fucking deserve me, you little freak,” you taunt, tickling his exposed midriff.

“God, I know. I’ve known that for a while. Too bad I want you regardless.”

He smiles as he captures your lips again, tasting sweet and smoky at the same time. He coaxes you onto your back and you revel in his body heat and the way his large hands grab the plush of your thighs, pushing and pulling your skin taut. It’s so erotic that it almost feels dirty.

You kiss him back like he’s your last meal while you roam your hands under his shirt, then to his protruding collarbones, then experimentally, to the tufts of his chestnut hair. You pull a bit too hard due to your eagerness and he lets out a mewl that you never could’ve imagined to come out of him.

“You like that, don’t you?” you taunt darkly. “Is that why you always want me to scratch your head when we watch movies?”

“I don’t care what you do as long as you’re touching me,” he breathes out, like a confession. “Don’t care how you touch me, s’long as it’s you.”

A tepid blush soaks your face. You shut him up with another kiss. He licks at your bottom lip, groaning softly at the feeling of your soft body against his.

“You’re so pretty, Peter,” you whisper.

“You are.”

Before you can react, you hitch a breath in surprise when you find that his hands have fully reached above the hem of your dress and onto the bare skin of your hip, toying with the elastic of your underwear. You part your legs, bending your knees so that you can pull the fabric off.

He sighs as his fingers tease the slot of your cunt, which grows wetter and wetter with every touch. Your sensitivity makes you squirm a little. He can tell so easily that you’re falling apart for him. He loves it.

You nearly whine when he takes away his fingers from you. Instead, he towers over your body, pulling your legs toward him as he pulls up the hem of your velvet dress and cascades kisses on your knees. He slowly works his way up to your thighs, biting gently, then hard. Meanwhile, his hands roam the perimeter of your chest and your ribs, all soft and pliable for him. You’ll be delighted when you wake up to a bruise on your thigh stuck in the shape of Peter Parker’s mouth.

A shiver lacerates your lower body all the way up to your neck – you feel it, viscerally. All from his mouth. He slots his tongue onto the bud of your clit going slowly just to watch you squirm.

“Please,” you beg.

“Please what?” His eyes are as dark as the sky. As dark as your dress.

“Your– your mouth. I need it. Please. More.”

Peter’s grip on your thighs tightens as his face moves closer to your center, licking incessantly as you cry out. You attempt to muffle your sounds with your hand covering your mouth, biting the skin on your palm. Your blood is hot, pumping hard, all the way down to your swollen clit, and he treats you like a man starved.

“Oh my God,” you gasp. “More, please. Pleasepleaseplease.”

He listens to you, forcing his ring and middle finger into your cunt and curling upward. Your legs shake involuntarily when he does this and it takes everything in him to not stop just so he can see the look on your face head-on. You look so beautiful right now.

“Gonna cum, Pete. Fuck.”

He closes his eyes as he savors your sweet taste. He feels it when you cum as if it’s happening in his body, too. A jolt to the sense. A vivacious rumble. Your mouth is slack, jaw falling open with your eyes screwed shut as you finish, and Peter towers over you to watch. He’s never seen you like this. He wants to keep the image of it forever.

You thank him with a messy kiss, not caring about the remnants of your lipstick. Your hands attack him, teeth nipping at his earlobe as you help him undress. Soon enough, the two of you are naked together, limbs entangled and kissing without paying any mind to oxygen.

You take his jaw in your hand as if he’s a delicate thing. Easy to break. It’s your turn to tease, now.

“What do you wanna do?”

“You’re such a little shit,” he mumbles, but he can’t help but grin.

“Tell me about it, Spidey.”

“Want you, Rabbit, want to make you feel good.”

“And how exactly will you do that?”

“Gonna fuck you. I’ll make you cry if you keep being a little shit like this, too.”

There’s no time for a reaction. He’s on top of you, pinning you down, and he licks your collarbone up to your jaw as you whine like a newborn kitten. He spanks your ass and you have to your bottom lip to keep from being too loud.

“You want it that bad, huh?”

“Yeah,” you respond breathlessly. He melts at the sound of your voice, cooing softly as he playfully bites the skin of your cheek.

You love him like this, a burst of passionate energy focused on you and you only. His little angel. You remember your rabbit heart caged in your sternum fragile and thumping like an earthquake for him.

He pauses to give you another kiss, this time sweet as he licks up the bottom of your lip. You can feel him at the crux of your legs and you can feel the want pumping in your veins. Patience. Patience. Patience.

“You want me to go slow?”

“Of course not.”

You’re so relaxed in his grasp. Gooey with your desire that it might disgust you if you weren’t so enamored. You keep your eyes on him when he enters you – you want to see the look in his eyes.

Peter feels selfish wanting to tease you like this. He’s slow when he enters you, listening to your sweet exhales.

“Easy,” he warns. “‘m gonna take care of you, don’t worry."

Please floods your entire body like a heat stroke. You bend your knees upward and rake the smooth terrain of his back, lifting your hips up at the same time. He thrusts once, then twice, and already, he feels like he’s ready to unfurl completely.

“Fuck,” he groans. You’re so goddamn wet. Soft. Velvety.

“Don’t be shy, Peter,” you murmur. “C’mere.”

You keen into the way he buries his nose into your shoulder, shallow breaths uneven and erratic as he continues, losing control bit by bit as he goes on. His pleasure is the knife you twist inside yourself.

You gasp at the way he can carve you out, the way he knows exactly where to put his hands as he grasps for your body, like he’d molding you from clay. He drinks down your moans with his mouth, eyes fluttering at the impact of your cunt clenching him.

Peter props himself up now, moving his body backward so he’s perpendicular to your core. He holds you by your hips a little too hard, but you’d always liked it rough. You liked it when he would cuddle you or play with you or put his entire body weight on you. To smother was to be encased in something akin to love.

“Fuck,” he hisses, getting the hang of a constant rhythm. His hips slot with yours as his cock thrusts deeper into you, until he can feel the slight tremble of your thighs.

“You okay?” he asks, chest heaving.

“Yes, keep going. Keep going.”

You underestimate how fragile you are. A rough thrust almost has you there, until he pulls out of you like a stolen breath, and it leaves you whining.

“Pete.”

“Shh, I’m just trying to pace myself,” he breathes, jaw slack and glistening with sweat. “You feel too fucking good.”

“Come back or I’ll break your wrists.”

He chuckles, but you’re dead serious. You lift your body to him so you can pull his down, kissing him with a ragged hunger that’s all teeth and lust. He’s quick to match your vigor but with more tenderness than desperation. It makes you melt, how natural it is, how this is how it might’ve felt in a past life. Your bodies entwined in a way that’s proverbial.

He listens to you. Fucks you much rougher than before, giving in to what he wants, because he’s not sorry about how much he wants you. Your broken moans curl out of your throat and into his mouth and the feeling of him deep in you makes you feel like a balloon ready to burst from the pressure.

It’s like Peter reads your mind, because suddenly, his hand is around your throat. You’ve never looked more angelic to him than you do now, eyes half-lidded and your reddish mouth all lax.

“So fucking beautiful, I love you,” he mumbles against his mouth.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

All of Peter’s muscles are tense from holding back. Fuck, he doesn’t want to cum until you do.

Luckily, the way his cock stretches you out has you nearly drooling underneath him. He touches the deepest parts of your insides like he belongs there, like he was meant to be there, as if the way he turns his hips toward you is a vow in itself. You whimper at the feeling of it all and he nearly loses it.

“I’m so close,” you pants. Thank fucking God.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Cum for me,” he coos. “You’re doing so good. Fuck.”

Your gaze lingers on the shape of his mouth. You think about how his voice sounds when he calls you angel.

Your orgasm comes like a flower blooming, like a beam of light in the darkness. He feels it, too, so vividly like he shares your body. It feels strange how much he feels that he hasn’t felt before, and it makes him come undone right after you.

He pulls out of you and spills onto your stomach unceremoniously with something in between a grunt and a whimper. He’s all over you. You want to bury your body into his.

“Peter,” you whisper, your gaze languishing.

“Yes, angel?”

“I think I owe Ned fifty bucks now.”

He looks at you incredulously but you can’t keep the facade, bursting into laughter as he groans in annoyance and flops his body on top of yours.

“Ew, clean me up, at least,” you complain.

“Right,” he says, nodding. And he does, with a spare t-shirt from his floor absentmindedly while he shares a grin with you. “You serious, though?”

“Of course not,” you scoff. “Ned Leeds will never get anything over twenty bucks from me.”

He laughs and it sounds like heaven.

“You said you loved me,” you tell him.

“I do love you. I’ve always loved you.”

You could cry right now. Surely the influx of endorphins in your body is breaking the rest of your brain.

“I love you, too.”

You kiss him again, open-mouthed, teeth sucking slightly as his lips. He takes a fistful of your hair while his other hand caresses your jaw. It excites you when he breaks the kiss by pulling your hair. His cheeks dimple the slightest bit when he smiles at you.

“Don’t do that, you’re gonna get me hard again.”

“You have the stamina,” you shrug, hugging one of his oversized pillows to your chest.

“You’re cute.”

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“How come you call me angel now?”

Peter shrugs. He rubs his hands on your calves.

“You’re my guardian angel. Always have been. And you’re not allowed to complain about it being corny because it’s true.”

Peter is shy all of sudden as if he hadn’t just fucked you. His brown hair is tousled to bedhead perfection, messy and slightly frizzy, and the warmth of his skin radiates from the way his whole body seems to blush in front of you.

“I have a proposition.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Come on!” You nudge him, kicking him with your feet. You get off of his bed to rummage through his dresser drawers for an oversized t-shirt, just dodging his attempts to grab you by the waist.

“Okay. What is it?”

“We should use our webs next time.”

He blinks, smirking, indulging you for a second.

“Deal.”

tagging mutuals: @meliapis​ @cutetomholland​ @userholland​ @sparklingsin​ @tomdutch​ @userholland​ @vendettaparker​ @selfcarecap @simplykenni​ @uhlxis​ @cordiformity​ @sapphicsoie​ @seolaseoul​ @honeyspidey​ @logangarfield​ @justapurrcat​ @arachine​ @cocoamoonmalfoy​ @ohcaptains​ @aniqua

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #spiderman x you #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker angst #spiderman x reader #mcu!peter parker x you #tasm!peter parker x you #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #peter parker x you

[rileyslibrary]

Idk if you’re taking commissions rn but if you are.. Can you do one where reader acts as Ghosts weighted blanket after an anxiety attack? I feel like he’d love that xx

I’m glad you asked for the reader to act as Ghost’s weighted blanket instead of the other way around because that would be like being flattened by a road roller. Also, it is good to note that anxiety attacks are not the same as panic attacks. Yes, they do have some similarities, but they differ. This story is about Ghost having an anxiety attack, so bear that in mind.

And let’s be clear here: he would never explicitly ask you to do such a thing.

Never.

In fact, he would never ask you to do anything that would need you to be physically attached to him, neither from the front nor back. And his anxiety, if he ever suffers from it—which I’m sure he does because, come on, who doesn’t in our times, plus it is mentioned in the comics—he can cover it pretty well.

But it takes one to know one, right? You’ve had your fair share of anxiety attacks; you know they are not sudden or obvious. Instead, they develop slowly, gradually. That sense of general unease lingers, haunting him for weeks, even months. He doesn’t start trembling or shaking out of nowhere. This one is subtle but constant, like a leaky faucet that drips every few seconds. He feels restless and triggered by something vague that he can’t understand himself. All. The. Time.

He knows what a panic attack is; he experienced it multiple times before, mainly due to the nature of his work. But an anxiety attack? To a soldier who associated the word “attack” with something swift, sudden and imminent? There’s no such thing as an anxiety attack to him.

No.

He doesn’t comprehend this constant need to stay in control, why he’s always tense, his inability to take a full, deep breath. To him, that’s just how his body functions. Relaxation has been a foreign concept since childhood, so he’s normalised it. And he learned how to bear these symptoms instead of understanding what triggers them and learning how to alleviate them.

You’ve observed the pattern; he tends to become like that a few months before a mission, so you were able to put one and one together.

And one day, you find him lying face-down on the bed. Something prompts you, and you crawl on top of him. He shifts and asks you, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing”. Maybe he even tries to stand up while you are on his back, and you ask him to trust you; he’ll see.

He’s hesitant but obeys, though he’s more alert than ever now. You settle on top of him; he feels like he’s carved from wood, but not because of his physique. He’s tense. Stiff. Rigid. He’s afraid to let go. He holds his breath. His palms are pressed into the mattress beside his chest, ready to spring into a burpee and launch you back to where you came from.

Yet he doesn’t do it. Slowly his muscles relax under your body, and you feel him gradually—though clumsily—release tension in each body part; his legs, back, and then his shoulders. He finally lets go of the breath he’s been holding, replaced by a long exhale, his first in months. He places his hands on the sides of his body and lets out a repressed chuckle.

You ask him why he’s laughing, and he asks you to turn your face away because you are breathing into his ear. You comply.

With you not watching, he can finally close his eyes now. Good.

But even Ghost can take so much weight. Or so much intimacy. After a while, he snaps out of it, and he wriggles out from under you, letting you fall on the mattress, muttering a brief “Enough.” He doesn’t thank you for anything. What did you really do? Yes, he feels a little lighter, and his mind is clearer, but all you did was rest on him. That’s all. No need to thank you for that.

He needs it, though. Again and again. No, he doesn’t need you, of course. No, silly. He craves that sensation again—letting go. So whenever he feels overwhelmed, he awkwardly gestures toward his back and asks you sternly to “do that thing”. And you try to suppress your laughter and obey his command.

And slowly, just like his anxiety attacks come and go, he realises that it’s not just your weight on top of him that soothes him. It’s you, your will to make him feel better, your heart beating against his back, your form attached to him that makes all this chaos in the world feel a little bit more manageable than before.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x gn!reader #simon ghost riley x y/n #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley fic #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon riley x reader #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x you #simon riley #call of duty #ghost cod #cod ghost #ghost cod mw2 #modern warfare 2 #cod mwii #ghost cod mwii

[spaceeoddity]

As a verdict is possibly hours away, a sense of dread has been building in my stomach for what it will mean for Amber’s future, as well as all victims of intimate partner violence (IPV), particularly as women’s basic rights continue to be under attack in the United States. Like many people who are following the case, I have personal experiences with abuse. Much of my research focuses on IPV, specifically, the disparities in resources and services that are available for survivors to leave their abusers, such as economic, social, geographical barriers. It’s a topic which is deeply tied to my own personal experiences and academic career.

I initially was ambivalent to Amber Heard. Before I began to research the case, I was firmly in the "they both suck" camp, having only briefly glanced through articles. I started to pay more attention to the media coverage over the past six weeks and was really staggered by how Heard was being portrayed as a lying, crazy, gold-digging woman through narratives that were not only going unchallenged, but were heavily perpetuated in the public discourse. Even worse, that the abuse she experienced had been capitalized on by "true crime" junkies and mocked in TikTok videos and Youtube compilations. So I began watching the trial live and found that there was far more evidence and far more substantial evidence which shows that JD was the perpetrator of abuse within their relationship.

The evidence collected through JD's personal texts and emails show an early pattern of abuse. He exerted control over the clothes Amber wore and would become angry when she didn't dress "conservatively". He would consistently accuse her of having affairs with acquaintances, friends, and various co-stars, even with an openly gay director, Clive Barker. He didn't like that she was ambitious and would scorn her when she took opportunities to advance her career. He would constantly refer to her with misogynistic language. He also referred to Amber, an openly bisexual woman, as a “lesbian camp counsellor”. He messaged other men to discuss killing her through drowning and burning her, and then raping her burnt corpse to prove that she was truly dead. This all occurred while they were still dating. She was in her early 20s and he was in 50s. All of these coercive, paranoid, jealous, controlling behaviours are deeply and unequivocally abusive.

None of this includes the evidence which shows physical and sexual abuse. There are audio tapes in which he admits to headbutting her, so hard that she was concerned her nose was broken. In another recording, they discuss how her family and friends have seen her bruises, broken blood vessels, and bald spots from her hair being torn out of her scalp. Another shows him stating “I will smack the ugly c**t before I let her in.” A video shows him aggressively breaking and smashing furniture near her. One interaction reveals that Stephen Deuters, his assistant, begged her to come back to him after her assaulted her on a plane in front of his bodyguards, pleading to her that JD was remorseful for his actions. Heard also has stated he sexually assaulted her multiple times. Remember, he previously discussed violently raping her in those infamous messages to Paul Bettany.

As for witnesses, several testified to seeing bruises on her numerous times, including JD's witnesses, such as their marriage counsellor. A makeup artist, Melanie Inglessis, testified to covering swelling on her lip and two black eyes. Raquel Pennington saw several injuries, including bloodied bald spots on her head, a swollen nose, and cut lip. She expressed fear JD would eventually kill Amber if she didn't leave. Josh Drew also testified to seeing her with injuries, including black eyes, a swollen cheek, and a busted lip. iO Tillet Wright (who Depp misgenders throughout his testimony) recalled hearing JD assault Amber and scream “oh, you think I hit you? You think I fucking hit you? What if I peel your fucking hair back". iO then called 911. This was the incident which led Heard to file for a divorce and a restraining order, two days afterwards. It is worth noting that Pennington, Drew, and Wright all corroborated this incident in their depositions, as did iO’s 2016 essay.

Is she guilty of fighting back? Absolutely. She never lied about doing so, even dating back to her 2016 deposition. However, fighting back against a man who has beaten you, sexually assaulted you, controlled your career, finances, and who you can associate with does not equate to being an abuser. It’s simply surviving. And yes, I’ve heard those audio tapes, the in which she’s expresses her incredulity at him for stating their fights were fair when she feared he would kill her.

His case has relied upon deeply misogynistic narratives to discredit both her claims and her character. She was after his money all along, even though she refused the 30 million dollar fortune she was legally entitled to, as there was no prenup. She painted on bruises, even though a makeup artist testified to covering up her swollen lip and two black eyes. She cut off his finger, even though multiple texts and even an audio recording showcase him admitting to doing it in the midst of a bender. She didn't donate her money, even though she and the organization created a 10 year plan for her to make yearly payments (in my personal opinion, what she does with her money either way is nobody's fucking business). Also worth noting, an ACLU representative testified to her being ahead of schedule until Depp began suing her. She made up a hoax, because she documented her abuse - as we advise all people who are in abusive situations to do. She's a liar, because women are inherently deceitful liars.

None of the evidence that JD's attorneys presented has proven that she defamed him through her op-ed piece. That's likely because their goal was never to prove that her article - which never explicitly references him or their relationship - impacted his career. Those who watched the trial will know, Tracy Jacobs, his agent of 30 years stated that it was his drug and alcohol abuse, anger issues, chronic lateness (7 or 8 hours late to set each day), and unprofessionalism that led to his career decline. Film crews grew tired of working around these problems, and eventually, so did Hollywood. Tina Newman, a Disney Corporate Representative who worked on POTC stated no one knew of Amber’s op-ed until Depp sued her. 

The trial was always meant to humiliate, shame, and terrorize her. We are witnessing in a powerful man terrorize his ex-wife through the legal system, all while the world makes TikToks of her sexual assault testimony. JD has a documented history of violence and is due for another court date after assaulting a crew member of the set of City of Lies. To quote his own words, “If I’m angry and I’ve got to lash out or hit somebody, I’m going to do it and I don’t care what the repercussions are. Anger doesn’t pay rent, it’s gotta go. It’s gotta be evicted.”

I don't know whether Amber Heard will win her case. We’re witnessing a radical right-wing political swing to control and criminalize women’s bodies with Roe v. Wade under attack right now. To be blunt, I have very little faith in the justice system and that a jury - in Virginia of all places - will rule in favour of an abused woman over her charismatic, powerful ex-husband. However, I think it's important to remember that Amber did everything right, that is, everything we tell women to do. She documented her abuse, left her abusive partner, and was granted a restraining order - and she's continuing to be punished for doing so. If Amber, a privileged white woman with access to economic resources, is still struggling to escape her abuser, how can we expect women without those privileges to?

#amber heard #i stand with amber heard #justice for amber heard #johnny depp #anti johnny depp #johnny depp is an abuser

[cheriladycl01]

How the fuck has a bird been the reason I DNFed - Grid x Driver! Reader

Plot: Y/N is racing in Silverstone when a Pigeon flies into her and is stuck to her while she's driving at 200mph around the track until it starts to fly away but gets pulled under the car and causes Y/N to crash out.

Credit to umlewis for the GIF

"Y/N you are currently P2, Lewis ahead 2.6 second gap" your radio engineer says.

"Copy, increasing" you report.

Sky Sports: Commentator - It's really been a fantastic race at Silverstone, with only 4 laps left to go, it's looking like a Lewis win, Y/N behind him in P2 and Oscar Piastri who just overtook Max Verstappen. WHAT'S THIS Y/N JUST HAD A BIT OF A TWITCH ON TRACK! She remains steady but... was that debris? Commentator - Lets look at that on-board, to me it looks like Y/N's had a bird attack. Oh woah yeah look at that, it flies straight into her. She flinches which is what that twitch was, but she's recovered so well and the birds still in there with her. Commentator - Let's look at that radio.

Y/N Radio: Y/N - A fucking bird just flew into me Radio Engineer - Copy that Y/N - What do you mean copy that, what do i do. It's covering my vision from the left with its wing! Radio Engineer - Go into turn 14, and try shift it off. If not then pull it off on the straight Y/N - I'm driving 200mph and you want me to take my hands off the wheel?

As you swoop round that corner the bird manages to jump out all on its own, without you having to nudge it, where you were slower. However next thing you know as your speeding down the straight is you see a large mass get sucked under you car. You car jumps slightly with the intrusion under the car and you spin a little, recovering it once again.

"Fuck fuck" you mutter to yourself as the car starts to spit the engine.

"Did you just take the bird under the car?" you engineer asks and you let out a small whimper. You couldn't believe you'd just killed a bird with your car.

"The car's fuck-" you start, but something gives out in you car and in a freak accident your car skids as you attempt to break. However with the motion of your car clipping the race edging you car flips over multiple times. Where you car was flipping, the gravel wasn't much help to slow you down, and you colliding into the barriers was the only thing you remembered.

Sky Sports: Commentator - And what a nasty crash that is for Y/N, really unfortunate where she was gaining on Lewis. And i think that's a red flag because of the amount of debris and that crash. Everyone's being called back to the pits and the Red Bull Team are looking extremely worried for their youngest driver. Commentator - this just isn't looking good David, no Marshalls have arrived on scene, Y/N isn't replying to her Engineer... everyone in the pits looks worried. These are those crashes that, you just really don't know the outcome...

Y/N Radio: Radio Engineer - Y/N please come in, Y/N are you okay? *Static* Radio Engineer - Y/N, the Marshalls are nearly with you, if the radio is broken, please just give us a hand gesture of something. *static* Radio Engineer - Christian, she's not replying Y/N - How- Radio Engineer - Y/N! Y/N - How the fuck has a bird been the reason I DNFed

Sky Sports: Commentator - Her voice sounds a little strained but, she's getting herself out that wreck as the Marshalls approach. The car engine has just caught alight as well, so the Marshalls will need to look at that.

You pulled yourself out, before putting a week thumbs up to the fans who were all standing round near the barrier waiting to see if you really were okay!

Marshalls came running over, two of three going to defuse the car and the others coming to check on you.

"You okay kid?" a man asks you, you had your arm wrapped round the front of you, by your ribs. They were most definitely bruised for sure.

"Smells like a fucking fuel infused Christmas dinner" you shout over the loud noises of the crowd and the car being put out before pointing at the roasted Pigeon on the floor next to your car.

The medic bursts out laughing, happy to see that you were okay and cracking jokes.

"Fuck, I just lost P2" you say kicking some of the gravel. You look up seeing the medical car come up to you. You walk over to it explaining your okay, but they refuse saying they need you to come in for observation.

After a long time in observation coming out with a mild concussion, bruised ribs and a sprain you were sent back to see the last few laps of the race. You saw some crew from various new channels film you, making you wave and smile.

You saw Christian and he immediately came from the Pit Wall pulling you into a hug.

"Hey its okay, it's okay! I'm just glad you are okay. That was a freak accident and there wasn't much else we could have done" Christian says rubbing your shoulder.

Everyone was happy too see you, Max ended up overtaking both Oscar and Lewis, coming in first place as a make up for what happened with you.

After the podium you were directed to post race interviews.

"Well, Y/N what a race that was. Could have been a race win but ... talk us through what happened" Will says looking at you and pushing the mic forward.

"Well, its uncommon but yeah. I was driving, pigeon flew into my cockpit and gave me the scare of my life. It hit my chest and helmet hard which caused that spin. And from there on it was a shit show, and I ended up crashing. Considering that wasn't a crash with another car, that's one of the worst I've been in! I blacked out and don't remember too much" you explain and he nods in thought.

"Yeah, you definitely had us all worries there! That's up there with the nastiest crashes I've witnessed. We're just all glad your okay!" he smiles and with that your sent off.

You went online to see everyone making memes of you and the bird and your funny radios.

All the other drivers had messaged you to make sure that you were okay, and you'd been treated to dinner by Max and Christian who felt bad about your scare today.

But overall, if you ever see a bird on the track again, you'll probably cry!

A/N: Just a small little drabble!

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @teamnovalak @landosgirlxoxo

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #max verstappen x you #charles leclerc #charles lecrelc x reader #lando norris #lewis hamilton #max verstappen #sebastian vettel #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri #yuki tsunoda

[subbmissivesuccubus]

Thinking of Uzui and Rengoku falling in love with you at first sight.

They're out on a mission, several demons sighted at a village and the number was so high they needed multiple people to come and fix the problem. Of course, it was a cake walk for the two of them. Their weapons flashing under the moonlight as it cut through the necks of their enemies like butter, demon after demon falling to their blade.

Despite the task being easy, it still took a few hours so by the time the job was done, they were a bit tuckered out. Every demon was slain- or so they thought.

A demon burst from the rubble, it's sharp claws aiming for Rengoku's face. It was too fast, neither of the Hashira able to react in time as the demon was but a centimeter away from clawing Rengoku's eyes out when you showed up.

Using your breath of Thunder, you cracked through the air like a lightning strike, covering ground within seconds as you managed to cut off the demon's arm before cutting its head off, saving your senior of any injury.

You put away your weapon as the demon disintegrated in front of you, bowing down respectfully to the two pillars, a ranking you hoped to reach one day. They recognized you, having seen you out and about before but this was the first time they'd seen you in action.

Both of their hearts skipped a beat. Beautiful, talented and powerful woman was a plenty within the demon slayer corporation but there was something about you that was just...different. Perhaps it was your kind heart in helping the wounded. Perhaps it was the confidence you carried yourself with. Perhaps it was because you were just too darn cute. But whatever the reason may be, they were enamored by you and couldn't keep their eyes off of you.

Once you helped the others in cleaning up and getting the wounded the help they need, you went back to the two Hashira who were strangely dazed.

"I shall get going now." you reported with a bow, "I'm glad I could be of service."

"Marry me." both of them said simultaneously.

"...huh?"

Thinking of Uzui and Rengoku roping you into sexual escapades as a form of 'training'

You had rejected their marriage proposal, stating that while you respected them, you didn't know them personally and didn't want a husband(s) that you weren't fond of.

They were respectful of that, stating that a great way to get to know each other would be through training. You thought it was unbelievable that two Hashira's were interested enough in you to take time of their schedules to train with you, much less want to marry you, but you decided to agree. Learning from the best would be an invaluable experience, afterall.

"I-I- thought you said we were gonna t-train!" You squealed, tossing your head back against the pillow as Uzui slid a second finger inside you, your pussy gushing around him.

You could barely recollect how you got here, a room in an inn, at the mercy of your two seniors. Your mind was a jumbled mess as their hands and lips attacked your body, hungry kisses against your neck while stripping you of your uniform. Time seemed to go by fast yet slow at the same time, eventually ending up on a bed with Rengoku sucking your breasts while Uzui made himself familiar with your pussy.

"It is training." the sound Hashira said with a smirk, curling his fingers inside you just right, making you gasp. He stuffed his fingers of his other hand into your mouth, making you choke.

"This is to help your technique." he said, "Control yourself and focus on your breathing."

As he said that, Rengoku's lips left your nipple, leaving it a saliva covered stiff bud before moving down and taking your clit into his mouth, making you scream around Uzui's fingers. Your body shook from the pleasure, never having experienced this before.

You knew their claim that this was for training was complete bullshit but dammit- you couldn't bring yourself to care.

Uzui was so deliciously huge compared to you. He was twice your size, his muscular body enveloping you completely as he toyed with your body with ease. His bulging muscles and washboard abs made you drool, your eyes wandering to his nether regions, pussy growing wetter when you saw a big bulge straining against his pants.

Rengoku ran hot, literally. His touch made you shiver as he ran his warm hands over your body, a comforting contrast to the way his hot tongue was assaulting your clit. He sucked on it like a candy, flicking it around before giving it a gentle nibble, making you squeal. With a physique just as impressive as Uzui's, his bright eyes filled with passion and desire made you feel dizzy.

"Focus." Uzui said with a click of his tongue, pushing his fingers further down your throat, making you gag, "you're getting distracted."

'I can't help it!' You tried to defend, but what came out was a bunch of gurgles and gags, unable to say anything.

"If you can't handle this," Rengoku said, giving your clit a sweet kiss before he straightened himself up, "what will you do if a demon attacks you and tries to choke you?"

"Exactly~" Uzui cooed, starting to move his fingers in and out of your throat, a slower rhythm from what he was doing to your cunt, "Bring your breathing under control and maybe, we'll let you cum~"

#subby writes #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba smut #rengoku kyojuro #kny rengoku #rengoku x reader #rengoku x reader x uzui #rengoku smut #rengoku kyojuro smut #tengen uzui #uzui x reader #kny uzui #uzui smut #uzui tengen smut

[grims-sunshine]

🤍 Where I'm supposed to be 🤍

Summary: Tav (aka the reader) is taking care of Astarion after defeating Cazador.

Word count: 1.5k

Pairing: Astarion x Tav/Reader

Tags: Hurt / comfort; I think this is called reverse comfort? (When the reader comforts the character); lots of mentions of blood; Not 100% canon compliant but it's just minor details/ me not wanting to simply retell what happens in the game

A heavy silence falls over the crypt as Astarion sinks to his knees. You almost preferred it when he was still screaming. The current silence feels like a dark presence stretching over you, making it difficult to breathe.

You can sense that your other companions are just as uneasy as you are. Karlach uneasily fumbles with the handle of her weapon and Gale is biting his lip while staring at the gory scene in front of you with Astarion as its main actor.

They're clearly struggling to decide what to do now. So are you.

Your first instinct is to hug Astarion, to fuss over him and make sure he isn't injured, but you're not sure he wants to be touched right now. However, just standing there watching him doesn't feel right either.

"Astarion?" You finally ask, taking a small step towards him, carefully stretching out your hand like you're talking to a wild animal. He doesn't react. His eyes are fixated on the dead body of his former master in front of him, almost like he's waiting for Cazador to jump up and start mocking him again. Like the moment he looks away, Cazador will return back to life and continue to attack.

You follow his stare, seeing the multiple stab wounds and the puddle of blood he's lying in. No, that bastard is dead.

You kneel down next to Astarion, placing a hand on his shoulder. If he noticed you at all, he isn't showing it. You look at him, trying to make out any immediate signs of injuries. He doesn't appear to be hurt, but you do notice the slight tremble of his bottom lip and the way his eyes swell up with tears. You gently pull him towards you, wrapping your arms around him. Astarion doesn't resist, letting his head sink into your chest.

He's completely still for a few moments, then the previous silence is broken by a series of loud sobs. Astarion's hands grasp the back of your shirt, fists balling together like he's scared you'll disappear. He trembles in your arms and you pull him even closer. You run a hand through Astarion's hair in an attempt to soothe him, even if just a little bit. It's sticky with blood, but you hardly notice that.

"It's okay, love. He won't hurt you anymore," you whisper in his ear, your other hand gently stroking his back. He only sobs louder in response, but it seems to help him breathe a little more evenly.

You're interrupted by the other spawn approaching. They still appear in just as much shock as Astarion, eyeing the corpse of their former master like they, too, can't believe he's really gone yet.

"Well… What now?" One of them eventually asks, all of them turning to Astarion like they expect guidance from him now.

You look over to your companions, hoping one of them might step in to redirect the spawn. But before any of them can say something, Astarion loosens his grip of you, getting up with his back straightened.

He's still sniffling a little, but already looks far more composed than before. Or, at least he tries to look composed.

Perhaps he even manages to convince everyone else that he's really okay. However, you can't help but notice the slight tremble in his legs as he walks over to pick up Cazador's staff, and the way he's fighting to keep his voice steady while talking to the others.

You've spent enough time around him, observing his mannerisms, to know when he's putting on a show. As much as he tries to appear alright, in truth he's far from being okay.

As Astarion's siblings leave, his eyes trail after them, staring off into the distance even after they're long gone. You put a hand on his shoulder, hoping to break him out of his trance. "Astarion, are you alr-" He cuts you off.

“Let’s just go home. I've had enough of this place," he says without turning around, just loud enough for you to hear.

You only nod in response and Astarion starts walking, the rest of your party following close behind.

Nobody says a word on your way back to Elfsong Tavern. Yet, you grow increasingly worried for Astarion. He looks like he's barely holding himself together, while pushing his emotions as far down as possible. You can only hope he'll open up to you later, rather than trying to pretend the events of tonight never happened.

The moment you reach Elfsong Tavern, Astarion drags himself upstairs to the floor you rented, straight to his bed where he sits down, staring at the wall. You contemplate whether it would be best to leave him alone with his thoughts for the time being, or whether you should try talking to him.

Eventually you decide to just sit down next to him, quietly reaching for his hand. "Just so you know," you start, "you don't have to talk right now if you don't want to. But I'm here for you."

Astarion nods in response, ever so slightly squeezing your hand.

You don't know how much time passes like this, but Astarion eventually breaks the silence, almost startling you with how suddenly he starts speaking.

“Do you think I made the right decision back there?” His voice doesn't have its usual smoothness to it as he speaks. Instead, it sounds sore and raspy. He just sounds tired.

“Yes.” You say it wholeheartedly, not even having to think before you respond. Astarion made the right decision - Of that you’re sure. “You’ve proven you’re better than Cazador. You didn't cause others to suffer for your own benefit. You made sure he'll never hurt anyone again. I’m absolutely certain you made the right decision.”

Astarion hums, nodding slowly as if he's contemplating your words. “At least one of us is sure, then. I really hope you’re correct.” He sighs and runs a hand over his face. "I'm not so certain I did the right thing. But maybe I should trust your judgment while I can't think straight."

You squeeze his hand tightly, and he gives a weak squeeze back. “Give it a while for everything to settle down,” you suggest, gently. “Once you’ve had some time to work through all this, I’m sure you’ll see things have worked out for the better.” He just grunts in response, letting his head sink against your shoulder. You sit like that in silence for a while, and you can tell he’s on the brink of falling asleep.

“Hey, how about we get all this blood off you and go to sleep?” You suggest, running a hand through his hair. Astarion just nods, allowing you to pull him along and lead him towards the small bathtub in the bathroom.

You run some warm water and grab a sponge while Astarion sits in the tub. Under normal circumstances he probably wouldn't let you take care of him like this, but tonight he doesn’t protest as you run the sponge over his skin, making sure to wash off the blood still sticking to his skin. He even closes his eyes for a while, completely giving himself into the care of your gentle touch as you run the water over his head in an attempt to get the blood splatters out of his hair.

Once you're sure you've gotten rid of all the blood, you bring Astarion a towel, wrapping it around him.

He sits there and watches as you grab a second towel, using it to dry his hair.

As you're about to put the towel away, you suddenly find Astarion's arms finding their way around your waist, pulling you close enough for him to rest his head against your torso.

You freeze in place, only moving enough to drop the towel and run your hand through Astarion's still damp hair. Just by his expression you can tell he needs to be close to you right now, and you have no intention of denying him that comfort.

After a while of being together like this in silence, you gently nudge Astarion. "Let's get you to bed, alright? It'll be much more comfortable there."

Astarion seems reluctant to let go of you, finally agrees to it after you promise not to leave his side for the night (not that you would've done so either way).

As he climbs into bed, you lie down next to him, pulling him into your arms. Astarion seems happy to rest his head on your chest. He seems almost peaceful like this, listening to your heartbeat while you run a hand across his back with gentle strokes.

"Thank you. For taking care of me… And for stopping me from probably making a big mistake. It's good to have someone looking out for me for once," Astarion mumbles, sounding like he's on the edge of falling asleep.

You run a hand through his still damp hair. "Don't mention it. You would've done the same for me." You press a kiss to his forehead, catching a glimpse of the slightest smile curling Astarion's lips. "And I hope you know you can always rely on me."

Astarion nods, hugging you a little tighter. "Yes. And I'm grateful for that, too."

Soon after, the only thing you hear is Astarion's soft breaths as he drifts off to sleep. You can only hope the next day will be a little brighter for him. But if not, he still has you to rely on.

Thank you for reading 🤍

Title was inspired by this

#bg3 astarion #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x mc #baldurs gate astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion ancunin

[yestrnight]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ POCKET SLIME ! part two

FROM : cyno, tighnari / slime! gn! reader

SUBJECT :  after fucking the brains out of your masters, cyno and tighnari senses that’s something amiss. they suspect foul play and it has something to do with the cute stranger following them around. little do they know that you’re just a cute, innocent slime– well, as cute as you can be when you’re breaking them in.

LINK : (1) kavetham

( back with the monster doujin agenda bitches; dubcon; throat fucking (tighnari); multiple tongues (tighnari); prostate teasing (nari); i might have a thing for prostates idk; smut is making me discover myself; tentacles; knotting; my inexperience bleeds thru my writing; ahegao; mindbreak )

when the gang meet up for another one of their friendly tavern meetings (usually forced into a genius invokation showdown by cyno), tighnari and cyno senses something off about their seniors. for one, kaveh doesn’t immediately jump on the opportunity to send a disdainful comment at alhaitham’s way, nor does the scribe make the effort to make a snide remark about kaveh’s drinking. instead, they make eye contact, blush, and avert their eyes.

cyno and tighnari raise their eyebrows at each other. “maybe they finally resolved the underlying sexual tension,” cyno suggests, to which tighnari gives him a hard nudge on his side. the mahamatra hides his snigger under his cards, but behind them he narrows his eyes to observe his seniors a bit more.

the conversation with them is stilted— the two roommates are distracted and dazed, and they have to snap them out of it every minute or so just to bring them back to the topic at hand. sometimes they whisper to each other, uncharacteristically forgetting about tighnari's hypersensitive ears, but thanks to that he hears some interesting things. 

"where are they?" alhaitham hisses to kaveh, to which the blonde looks frantic and confused.

"i don't know!" he whispers back, albeit more worried than his counterpart. "what if they got lost? or attacked? ah… maybe i should pick them up. this is all your fault!" 

"my fault for training them to fit into human society? please," haitham scoffs. "if they're gonna live in my house then i expect them to—” suddenly, the tavern doors slowly creak open, and a shy head pops out to survey the room. the duo immediately snap their heads to look, and the newcomer brightens up when they lay their eyes on them. 

cyno and tighnari watch as they rush towards the two and engulf them in a hug, nearly knocking them from their chairs. their speech is incomprehensible to them, like gurgles, but it seems that kaveh and alhaitham understand it enough to hold a fretted conversation with them. kaveh is fussing over them, checking their body for any injuries, while alhaitham demands a full report on their day.

“went to the market, like masters told me to!” the newcomer beams up at them. they hold up the bag they were carrying, full of groceries, and kaveh coos and brings them in for a tight hug.

“oh you poor, poor thing!” kaveh bemoans, tearing up at your innocent smile before shooting haitham a sharp glare. “i cannot believe you sent them out like that without telling me! you know they don’t know anything yet!”

haitham is about to retort, before cut off by the stares of their two juniors. “uh, excuse me,” cyno speaks up, staring blankly at the obviously non-human entity in front of him. “is that your child?”

haitham and kaveh choke. you smile even brighter.

✧.*  TIGHNARI

TIGHNARI whose gift of being hypersensitive to everything lets him know what exactly type of creature you are when you walk through the tavern doors. it should be obvious, with how your body jiggles and the muffled squelching from your sandaled feet. the baggy clothes do well to hide most of your body, but TIGHNARI is one of the best researchers, and there’s no use hiding anything from him.

you’re a slime, but one that he hasn’t seen before. haitham detects TIGHNARI’s curious gaze and clears his throat. he explains how kaveh picked you up and how you revealed your ability to shift into a humanoid form (though he leaves out the filthy details for his dignity’s sake), and makes a request: that TIGHNARI look after you. there are many things that they don’t know about you and your special condition, and who better to trust this topic of research to than amurta’s leading researcher? haitham expresses that it’d be nice if they could take their hands off you for a while, and when TIGHNARI asks why, the pair averts their gaze and mumbles something about you being too distracting.

TIGHNARI who brings you to ghandarva ville and starts inspecting you. you let out a bubbly laugh every time he pokes and prods you, and even a few surprised squeaks when he touches the more sensitive spots. he observes how you vocalize and how your jelly constitution contributes to how warbly your speech sounds. you are made out of elemental energy, just like how normal slimes are, and yet he can’t grasp on how the hell you’re like this. some sort of experiment maybe?

whatever you are, TIGHNARI deems you useful enough to help around the village for your stay. he can’t have you revealing your identity to the villagers just yet, so you’re usually cooped up inside his home. the extra limbs you can make is useful, and you serve as a good cushion whenever collei drops something. he does feel bad for imprisoning you somewhat, so he makes a point to return to you as soon as possible. when he comes back, he can usually find you in your round slime form moping on his bed, only to quickly revert to your humanoid form when he walks through the door. un(?)fortunately, shifting shapes doesn’t exactly give you any clothes, so whenever you leap on him to welcome him back, he usually gets a faceful of chest.

TIGHNARI who one day comes home more tired than usual, stressed out by a group of stupid adventurers who angered a pack of rishboland tigers. he wants nothing more than to sleep, and apparently you can sense that, with how you slowly approach him. his tired eyes note how worried you look and he puts that info aside for later. “tired?” you cock your head, observing his slumped shoulders and drooping eyes. “i can help! have helped masters kaveh ‘n haitham before!” he thinks you’re offering a massage, because what else could you be offering? so he nods and lies down for you to do your work.

TIGHNARI who absolutely does not expect a cold tendril to snake under his clothes, and he yelps when he feels your weight on top of him. you’re smiling down at him with your usual innocent, brain empty one, but he feels something darker in your gaze. you giggle when more tendrils come out of your back, and they carefully peel off his clothes (your masters have scolded you over and over again about melting their clothes) . “wh– [your name]!” TIGHNARI sounds panicked as you strip him, and tries to cover himself up as he blushes under your intense gaze. “this is nowhere near appropriate! stop this at once– ah!”

you peel off one hand off his chest and admire his lean muscles. he shivers when he feels your cold fingers lightly circle his hardening nipples before they trail down his sides until you firmly plant your hands at his waist. he tries to squirm out of your grip, trying to deny the heavy haze settling over his mind, but you only lightly laugh while you saddle him. “been very long~” you purr, nuzzling his face and pouting up at him. “haven’t fed from masters in a long time. nari will give me food, yeah?” 

“f-food?” he lightly gasps in between your stroking. “i-if you want food, you could just ask meEE~! a-ah, stop that, y-you…!” too late, though. you’re licking and kissing all over his face, body grinding over his crotch as you shower him with your way of love. you grab his face with both hands to properly face you, and you eagerly devour his lips. your tongue parts his lips for you to dive in deeper, and TIGHNARI, giving in to the temptation, leans in towards the kiss.

you smile at this and press even deeper, your tongue wrapping his and stroking it up and down like it was cock. he should be ashamed at this filthy display, but he was too lost in the pleasure as he wraps his hands around you and brought you even closer. something sprouts from the back of your mouth– more tendrils– and his eyes widen when they join the single one in his mouth. more of them explore his mouth, obscene squelching noise reverberating in his head, and two even coil together to fuck his throat deep. the stimulation makes his toes curl and his fingers dig into your jelly mass till they’re sunk in deep. 

when you finally pull away, TIGHNARI choking as the tendrils slither out of his throat, he looks up at you. you smile at your work– fluttering and hazy eyes, tongue out, heavy panting, and a deep blush. “wh-what was that…? what did you…?”

 giggling at his curiosity, you open your mouth. “beh~” a multitude of tendrils squirm in your mouth, in place of where a human tongue should be. “master kaveh likes this very much! he trained me to do it~! and now, nari loves them too, yes?” he blushes harder, but he can’t find it in himself to deny it. ‘kaveh, you filthy degenerate…’ TIGHNARI makes a mental note to give him a good talking to later.

he finds himself staring at your tongues, rubbing his legs together as he remembers the pure ecstasy of fitting them all inside his mouth, and gulps. he's a respected amurta researcher, leader of the forest rangers… he shouldn't be lowering himself to such acts. but… but! TIGHNARI whimpers as he tries to soothe the fire inside him, his ears flattening. they felt so good… and well, this does count as research, right?

"[your name]..." he softly calls out, shyly taking his pants off as he stares at you hungrily. "p-please… i'll feed you even more, okay?" he can't believe what he's doing right now, but he slowly spreads his tiny asshole and looks at you pleadingly. "do it to me more, please ♡ ?"

soon, TIGHNARI finds his legs stretched up to his head, and the mischievous grin you give him as you eye his pink hole. there's something so deliciously depraved about this position and how it leaves him vulnerable to your attacks, and he can only watch through fingers as he hides his face. he watches as you lean in and lick his hole a few times, wetting and teasing it altogether, and gasps everytime your tongue passes over it. when he grinds into your mouth hoping you’ll do something… more, you laugh at him before finally fucking him with your tongues.

TIGHNARI who has his back arched beautifully, gasping and moaning as he stares wide-eyed at the ceiling. “ah~can’t b-believe this feels so– ah!-- so gooood~♡” the feeling of two tongues coiled around each other, thrusting in and out of his ass like another form of cock, has him seeing stars. perhaps it’s his animal instincts, but he quickly gets hooked on the feeling, and he grinds his ass in time to the thrusting of your tongues. “oooh, ngh, deeperrr~ go even deeper~♡” he grabs your jelly hair and starts moving your head back and forth, using you like a dildo so he can satisfy himself.

he knows you can go deeper, that you have the ability to shove your tongue so deep you’ll form a new womb. but you don’t, and he knows it’s on purpose by the mischievous glint in your eyes. “ooh ♡ wh-what are you doing…?” he sobs, thrusting your head harder as he tries to make you hit his prostate. “it’s not enough, not enough! make me cum, make me cum pleaseee!” but you’re always just an inch too short, barely grazing over the bundle of nerves but never truly touching. TIGHNARI hiccups as he grows even more frustrated.

you slip out of his grasp, as fluid as the slime that you are, and smile innocently at him. “nnoooo can dooo~” slowly, you finally align your cock at his hole, the tip nudging against the hungry little thing. “can’t have nari cum yet~ studied so much for him~” 

“s- study…?” only when he finally takes a peek at your cock, does he understand the meaning behind your words. a fat pair of balls, and a large, throbbing cock with a knot at its base. ah, you naughty little slime… you must have been reading his animal biology books while he was away, weren’t you? he doubts you understood anything from his complicated textbooks, but no doubt you used the images for reference.

he swipes a tongue on his lower lip, and uses his hands to present you his needy hole. ah~ he can’t help it at all~ he’s a man, a male fox hybrid… so why are the instincts of a vixen overcoming him? his mindless heart eyes stare hungrily at your cock, and pushes against the tip in hopes that you finally get to fuck him.

NARI who doesn’t think anything but your cock and your cock alone, who’s presenting himself like a bitch in heat. through his tears of frustration, he sobs for you to finally set him free from this agonizing torture. “[your name]~” he whines, like the debauched bitch that he is. “breed me, breed me pleaseeee ♡”

✧.* CYNO

CYNO who feels the same feeling of oddness from tighnari as he did from haitham and kaveh. when he goes to visit you and his friend, he can see the blush on the fox hybrid’s face whenever you’re brought up. he averts his eyes and fiddles with his fingers, looking away from him in an attempt to hide his growing blush. it’s exactly how guilt criminals act like, and his interest only piques.

when tighnari leaves for a patrol, CYNO enters his home to take a look at you. he doesn’t know what exactly tighnari has done with you, but it must be something bad to get the ever-collected researcher to act this distracted. he sees you in the normal slime form, that round squishy ball of cuteness, and a small surprised squeak from you when you see him has you morphing into a human form. a sound of surprise escapes him when you morph– naked body and all– and when you hug him, literally melting into him, he freezes. now he understands tighnari’s reaction.

CYNO who has you kneeling down the floor and is about to lecture you on the importance of clothes until you pout up at him, and he can’t help falling for that cuteness. “thought cy came to play with me?” an arrow struck his conscience. “why is cy so mad with me…?” another arrow struck his conscience. he doesn’t really have the heart to make you suffer through a lecture when you’re just a slime who barely knows the ways of humans. he sighs, a palm to his head, and decides to just observe you for now.

ecstatic to be closer to your masters’ and nari’s friend, you quickly show him around tighnari’s house. it’s something that CYNO has seen a thousand times before, but there are some added furniture for you. there’s a hammock by the window for you to sleep on (you add that nari is too shy to sleep with you, much to the general’s added interest), plants that serve as your snacks that nari cultivated to have elemental energy, and you pull out some of tighnari’s textbooks that you say you read in your spare time. judging by the way you keep pointing at the illustrations, there’s no doubt you can read a single letter of human language. but you’re cute when you happily describe the pictures anyway, so CYNO smiles fondly.

“here!” you flip to a page on animal biology and point to a jackal, then points at the headpiece that CYNO put away by the door. “reminds me of you!” he hums, scootching to you closer to get a better look. you don’t have any heat like how a human should, nor do you have the temperature of a pyro or cryo slime. dendro and geo slimes have this earthy scent to them while you’re scentless, you don’t zap him like how an electro slime does, and you’re clearly not anemo since you’re made out of some liquid. he should check on nari’s research on you later.

“and this!” you flip to another page, and CYNO suddenly starts choking on his spit. a picture of two jackals mating takes up a quarter of the page, and he hurriedly closes the book. he can’t have an innocent thing like you looking at such things! when he looks at you to warn you about these kinds of things, he’s greeted by your lusty leer as you press your noses together. “... they remind me of you too, cy~no~♡”

CYNO who you quickly consume with your smile, the lower half of his body completely seated in your jelly body, while the upper half leans on your chest as a cushion. you give him no time to struggle as you wrap your arms around his lean chest and lean in to lick his ear. he shudders at the new sensation, gasping as your tongue pokes and prods just at the hole. he’s clinging to your hand as you tease and blow his ear, and you giggle when a particular puff of air sends him shuddering in your touch.

“cyno~” you hum, one hand to trail down and twist his nipple. he moans at the sudden pain, and you take it as a sign to continue further. you pinch and tug at his cute brown areolas, giggling when his jaw slacks as he continues to moan and drool. “cyno is very cute~ like masters haitham and kaveh~ and nari-nari too~♡”

it should come as a shame to him, for the general mahamatra to succumb to such pleasures and be downgraded with a label like ‘cute.’ but he finds himself only nuzzling into your hand when you cup his cheeks, and moaning when you press a sloppy kiss to his cheeks. “gh~♡ i… i don’t understand this feeling~” he pants into your mouth, looking at you with a lust half-lidded gaze. “‘s all too– a-ahh… ♡– too muchhh~” 

“hmm… cyno’s never had sex before?” his inital judgment was wrong— you were nowhere near innocent. “that’s okay~! i can teach cyno sex like the maker taught me!” giggling, you tighten the mass around CYNO’s cock and watch as he gasps and sinks even deeper into your chest. “first, you go shhlick!” CYNO gasps when he feels multiple tendrils slowly enter his ass, slowly thrusting in and out to accomodate the slowly growing length inside him.

“h-huh?” while the slime inside him slowly expands, CYNO’s eyes widen when he sees a little bump on his stomach, and he hurriedly puts his palm on it as if to push it down. “wh-what’s going on? why… why is my stomach like… like that?”

you giggle at his confusion and panic, pressing a sweet kiss on his ear to which he shudders at. “cy-cy is very innocent, hm?” you gently clasp his shaking hand and slowly caress the little bump. “that is my cock inside you! and soon…~” you thrust up, eliciting a girly yelp from the white-haired man. “soon, my baby will be there too!”

before he can even question your words, your slimy length starts pounding him up and down. each thrust his prostate, and CYNO can barely process his feelings right now as you continue driving the slime deep into his ass. his legs shake while sunk deep into your slime, and through the translucent [color] mass he can see his hard cock leaking pre-cum. “o-ooh~♡ f-feels so goood ♡” his shaky moans is almost lost in the indecent wet slapping of your sex, and his eyes roll backwards when you squeeze the jelly around his cock. “ahhh~ah, ah, ah fuu~ck ♡ ooh, yeah, fuck me deeper into my hole pleeasseeee– thank you thankyouthankyouthankyouuuu ♡♡”

soon, you press CYNO onto his chest, your slime body beneath him accommodating his nipples by creating suction holes that suckle on them nonstop. his sweaty back faces you, and in the back of his mind, he’s thankful enough that you don’t have to see the absolutely fucked-out look he’s been wearing this entire time.

“cyno is very good at sex~” you hum, lovingly stroking his hair while you continue thrust into him like a beast. “you can cum into me, then you’ll be just like my masters and the others~♡”

✧.* IT’S A THREESOME!

you lean back on TIGHNARI’s chair, enjoying the show before you. two tentacles drive themselves deep into CYNO’s ass, leaving him no room to breath as they fuck a bump into his belly. sobbing at the overstimulation and sapped out of energy after being fucked for over an hour, his hands grip tighnari’s own as he incomprehensibly cries out pleas of mercy.

his friend, on the other hand, is a bit more energetic. tighnari grinds against the breeding cock fucking into him, a wide and satiated smile distorting his usually calm features. his rhythm is downright animalistic, and his eyes are only fixated on your knotted dick as he watches it slide in and out of his wet hole. he’s drooling, eyes empty with nothing but sexsexsex behind them, so in love with you and the pleasures you offer that they’ve morphed into hearts.

“p-please… breed me more, please ♡” nari can feel the knot slapping against his ass, and cyno watches in shame as his best friend sobs trying to shove the entire thing in. “kn-knot me, please ♡ fill me with pups… your pups ♡! [y-your name] i’m begging youuuu ♡”

“n-nari…” cyno whimpers, holding the fox’s hands tighter. “can’t– ooh ♡– can’t think anymore…”

you giggle behind them, suspending them midair as you and your limbs pull them closer to you. “you don’t have to think anymore cy-cy ♡” you hum, stroking his chin before kissing him deep. both of you can feel tighnari’s hungry stare as you and cyno share a sloppy kiss, and you soothe his growing jealousy by shifting your attention and kissing him too. while cyno sits by dazed, nari eagerly laps up all the slimes you have to offer, taking them in like a man in a desert. “no one has to think at all ♡”

they can feel your cocks pulsing inside them, evident in the way they begin to pound themselves on your lengths. while cyno struggles to take your squirming tentacles to their base, tighnari’s broken laughter fills the air as he readies himself to take in that breeding knot. soon enough, hot and viscous slime erupt inside them, and their bodies arch in a silent scream as they feel you giving them more than they could take. 

the general goes slack in your hold, body twitching and spasming as the tentacles spurt more wave after wave of sweet nectar inside him. tighnari releases a moan of relief as you force the knot all the way in, and when you pull, he squeaks as he gets pulled alongside your cock. he gives you a pouty glare whilst his partner stares slack-jawed at the ceiling.

ah~ if only your creator could see you right now, fulfilling the very reason you were born to do. you wonder if he’ll be very proud of you, to have the four of the finest men in sumeru succumb to your temptations. he had always told you that you were less slime and more of a demon, anyway. you don’t exactly know what a ‘demon’ is, but judging by the happy and satisfied looks on your friends’ faces, you’re sure that it’s something that makes humans verryyy happy, right ♡ ? 

#*ੈ✩‧₊˚ next stop! creator & his test subject #genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #cyno smut #tighnari smut #genshin cyno #genshin tighnari #genshin x reader #cyno #tighnari #nite.writes

[satoruhour]

Helllooo!!!! I hope you're doing well<33 I'm not sure if you're taking requests so this can be taken as a random rant as well. (I'm in my exam week-depressed-stressed era lol) but is it just me Or the animated version of choso and the mans voice actor just doubled his hotness!?? Hence why me is here to ask if you could do a choso street racer au, could be anything from him meeting at a race or him taking them drifting? Idk but I just need more racer choso au's😭😭😭

LUCKY DIME

a/n: oh no my love i hope your exams went well and that you’re resting comfortably now ❤️ OFCCCC i planned to write a racer!choso for so long i just didnt have any motivation / tagging @screampied

wc: 3k

warnings: racer!choso, reader is ‘dating’ a weirdo, fem!reader, threat of sexual assault (from weirdo guy), threatening harm, flashback, unsafe driving tendencies (dont follow them in this fic lol pls drive safely), semi-public sex (parking lot), car sex, slight nipple play, oral (f! receiving) / cunnilingus, fingering, finger sucking, implied multiple rounds and p -> v sex later on, n*sfw under the cut

choso hasn’t always been open about his origins — moving from the shimotsuma district to shibuya just two years ago in need of quick cash to send back to his struggling mother. it was a hard decision on both ends, with his mother advocating more for him to leave for a better life than the one she could offer. he acquiesced with a promise to earn enough to send back to her every month in return for the secret stash she provided for him and that promise meant everything. he was going to get money no matter what.

even if it meant meddling with the local yakuza, doing petty little tasks of collecting money, escorting the people important to the oyabun to their meeting places, being on lookouts while gambling and prostitution happens indoors. choso would never write back to his mother on what he’s been doing to get so much money, but if he’s able to send a hefty amount back to her on every 29th, he’s satisfied.

that is until he’s met with a couple arguing as they walk along the alleyway, creating such a ruckus that choso’s sure they could power the whole of shibuya — well, more of the man, anyways, saying something about racing and cars that he’s not even sure he catches on.

“well, if you just listened to her and opted for a flat-plane rather than use a cross-plane, maybe you wouldn’t have lost the race!” you’re throwing your hands up, struggling to walk behind in these new heels you bought while you navigate the dark alleyway. for a boy who’s expressed interest in you, he wasn’t doing well in trying to keep you one bit. you’d say he’s rather annoyed that you know so much about cars, trying to genuinely help him while he just sees it as attacks.

“yeah, well, if you kept your mouth shut, you wouldn’t have embarrassed me about losing to noritoshi.” you roll your eyes, unaware you’re passing a dangerous area with dangerous activities behind the door choso was guarding, nor do you notice the way the bodyguard perks up at the name of noritoshi, who sounds awfully familiar.

you scoff, “trust me, you embarrassed yourself the moment you tried to challenge the dude,” it was meant to be a harmless comment; noritoshi could never measure up to the famous four, but he practised his drifting hard enough and put in the hard work, stayed humble. he was everything that your “man” wasn’t, and it was only deserved that he didn’t win. ultimately, you didn’t expect much from a man in the illegal racing scene who only cared about who had the nicest engines and paint finishes.

“what’d you say?”

choso keeps a close eye on the both of you.

“it was nothing—” you sigh, reaching out to grab at his arm to get him to stop shouting so loud when you notice the person standing in front of a shady door — twin pigtails hairstyle with a dead look in his eyes and a tattoo across his nose, dressed up in a suit. it was scary enough walking through a dimly-lit alleyway, but your fear heightens when your eyes fall upon the surroundings of ashes of late night campfires, dried blood along the walls, and used condoms on the floor.

“no, no, tell me what you said, just so i know that i heard you right,” your “man” insisted, stepping up so close to you that your nerves were on high alert from the proximity and the possibility of that someone just a few feet away inflicting harm on the both of you.

“it was nothing! i just meant that you didn’t have a chance against noritoshi from the st—” it’s like you hit a sensitive nerve, because the next thing he’s doing is grabbing your wrist and dragging you along, not aware of how choso perks up even more, ready to leave his post. it borderline hurts with the way he grasps at your skin, paired with the discomfort of your heels and outfit, you can’t just wait to get home and rest up.

“ohh, so that’s what you said!” the man continues to tug you, not heeding your pleas for him to stop, “might as well just leave you here with the yakuza to see whether you stand a chance.”

that’s what the man was guarding . . wait.

a shout wretches out of you when you notice there’s no shadows at the door that’s lit simply with fluorescence at the same time the mysterious man has one hand each on your arms.

“who are you—” your “man” has the gall to speak first, shocked at the stronger grip of the other when he tears the fingers away from your wrist before stumbling back. the mysterious guy simply tugs you into his hold, levelling the other with just a stare from his eyes that’s got him babbling and stuttering in fear. you hate to admit that once the man beside you speaks, your body curls into his side — it’s like a smooth cup of coffee that you gravitate towards.

“do you want to repeat what you just said?” choso puts you behind him as he approaches the other, one step taken while the cowering one takes one step back. “because i can always open the door i’m guarding and let them take care of you, instead.”

“t-that wouldn’t be necessary—” he’s adamant on his threatening, taking out a flip phone and dialling numbers one by one, no doubt the number of his boss. he doesn’t even look at you, eyes trained on the pigtailed man as he continues to dial the number and pressing call. if choso’s being honest, he’s about to shit himself just as much, never having called his saiko-komon personally before so he only fakes the number, thanking the heavens that someone somewhere decided to call his boss’ phone just at the same time.

they all hear it, the familiar nokia ringtone from behind the door, but in choso’s ear, all it says is that it’s an invalid number that garners no answer. he talks over the operator’s voice anyway.

“yeah, i need you to take care of this guy. just outside here—” that’s enough for him to go running away, puddles splashing and his voice crying out for civilisation, although you’re not too happy yourself, afraid for your own fate. kept like a pet for the yakuza? made to work for them to pay off this small helping hand? commit—

you sit up from the hood, “you called a fake number?!” it’s hard to say when that fateful meeting turned into this over the past few months, asking choso to recount the night the two of you met out of curiosity when you realise that your yakuza-accountant boyfriend had dialled a fake number the whole time.

“i had just joined! i wasn’t going to phone my boss . .” he sheepishly says with head turned to you, and while you’re giving him brutal smacks on the shoulder (“what! if! he! hadn’t! run! away! were you going to let a phone operator beat him up?”), you’re still thankful he decided to step in at the right time even if his heroic act had been brought down a notch by this revelation.

it’s then that he asks about the whole racing thing you were involved in but you’re taken aback by the fact that he wasn’t going to make you do anything in return. even if the alley had boasted its dubiousness, you realise than the man standing in front of you was not much older than you, a childish sparkle in his eyes when you entertained the question. with a random number in your phone, it was up to you if you wanted to text him, but after a few races, you think that he was just too handsome to pass up.

choso picked up racing and drifting fast, joining your small group of friends of yuji, megumi and nobara who were all rising up the ranks. it was difficult, knowing the famous four, but it didn’t hurt trying to build a reputation in the underground scene. he practised around the docks, crashing into crates, sending the seagulls flying, and almost sending your scrap car over the edge.

“tokyo is pretty at this time of night,” choso mumbles as he sits up, too, liking the way you scooch closer to him on the hood of his 1967 Ford Mustang.

“tokyo is cold, i’m lucky i’m not freezing to death.” you tease him even when you’re wearing his warm jacket, squealing when his cold hands make it under the jacket and your shirt.

“how are you cold, that jacket’s wool!” he nestles his face into your neck, freezing nose touching the skin there and you giggle, trying your best to push him away. choso says that, but he’s happy to see you in his jacket while his arms tingle with both frost and lovesickness. “you’re just extra sensitive to the cold.”

before you can retaliate, though, he’s pulling away from your body heat to look you in the eye; it was a wonder he even got you, a girl who’s just so passionate about cars and who taught him everything he needed to know about it. six months down the road, he’s writing about something other than living paycheck to paycheck again, getting in some extra money from racing as well.

“wanna drive?”

you grin, hopping off his hood before jumping into the car beside him and he only laughs at your enthusiasm, hopping in after you and starting the ignition. you wish it was like this before every race: you beside him in the passenger seat as he gets ready to race against his opponent. the rev of the engine always excites you, knowing you contributed to the many modifications of his Mustang. but choso always says it’s dangerous for you — so you’re left to watch from the sidelines.

but now, as choso drifts down the mountain, you can’t help but stare at him as he changes gears every few seconds, hair blowing everywhere from the wind outside before he reaches the base and races off into the main road. you’re shouting in excitement, music blasting loudly from the cassette player while you dominate the streets at night.

“d’you think i can break 190, sweetheart?”

your jaw drops, “while drifting?” he nods, “you’re insane . . yeah, do it.”

choso’s laughter feels infinitely heavenly, stepping on the accelerator on a fairly empty road. he’s familiar with the traffic of the roads too, so at 4am, it’s basically deserted when he speeds down the gravel while he tries to break the speed limit. you feel on top of the world, a pretty road full of green lights on every turn; there’s a couple of sharp screeches from his tires as he navigates shibuya.

“hear that increased throttle response . .” you whistle when he presses his foot into the accelerator again, Mustang speeding off into the streets while you look over to him: hand holding the stick shift and one hand on the wheel. he’s as pretty as you remember him six months ago and his beauty truly hits you in the moment that you unconsciously rub your thighs together.

“all thanks to you, baby,” feels like the final blow, not knowing the effect he has on you until you’re waiting until he slows down to place your hand atop his on the steering wheel. there he lets you steer where you want to go, face melting into recognition at the place you’re taking him to.

“you’re nasty.” in the abandoned car park, he giggles when you’re shushing him as you make your way to the backseats, levelling him with a stare that begged him to hurry.

“yeah . . whatever, you like it.”

choso grins, switching off the ignition and climbing in after you, making you forget all about the cold season of japan in mere minutes. his lips collide with yours and his body naturally pushes yours to the leather seats, driving you crazy just with his mouth. his hands make quick work of your skimpy outfit, inching past your tight halter top and to your tits. you gasp softly into the kiss.

“may i?” even after all this time, choso still asks for permission, pulling down your top and bra when you nod.

his mouth is both warm and gentle when it meets with your nipple, tongue swirling around the bud and eyes looking up at you just to relish in the hooded lids and soft moans you give him. his free hand fondles your other, squeezing and playing, rolling the bud between his thumb and forefinger.

“just s’soft . . always,” he hums into your chest, kissing you down bit by bit and making you wait for it with each teasing journey he makes. there, he manoeuvres himself onto the floor, kneeling on the carpeted finishing as your knees hook onto each shoulder. the car is filled with your laboured breathing, watching him slowly undo the straps to your uncomfortable heels. it’s excruciatingly slow, pulling at the strings and removing each shoe before his lips leave fire along your shin, up to your thighs and to your pulsing core.

“choso . .” you whine, hips bucking off the leather.

all he does is laugh, hands spreading your legs before he’s licking his lips at the mess you made in your skirt, panties and back of the fabric soaked right through. your boyfriend pulls you forward with a certain fervour that makes you yelp and you match him with a nervous grin as he tugs away the underwear and marvels at the arousal that just sticks to your pussy, pretty and dripping right in front of him.

you have no warning before choso indulges himself in your cunt and you cry out in surprise, hand tangled up in the mess of his hair that falls from his pigtails. his warm tongue laps at your clit like a man starved, slurping up all of your arousal into his tongue. the cold weather is just the cherry on top, cold wind wafting through the walls and the windows, making you extra sensitive.

“c-cho—” you hum, one hand lost in his black locks while the other clutches tightly onto the seats for any sort of anchor while choso only pushes his face further in between your legs. he can feel your pussy clench around nothing, switching between sucking and flicking his tongue with a relentless pace that threatens your sanity. “t-too much . .”

all he does is laugh into your centre, eyes flitting to meet yours while he continues his ministrations, arms wrapping around your thighs. choso moans at how good and sweet you taste, a curious hand moving from your legs right to your hole where he plays with your folds. gently, he pushes past your walls and you whimper from the intrusion, clamping down around his finger.

“relax, darling, i got you,” he softly says, relaxing his pace just a bit as he starts to thrust his finger. while slow, his tongue doesn’t stop, however, still continuing to make the lewdest noises.

“pussy so damn sweet,” he groans, nuzzling his face right into your sloppy core before teasing a second finger; it’s easy to slip in but he still warns you wordlessly, inching them right in until they reach the knuckles, “and so tight, too—”

the car is filled with the smell of sex, the sounds of your pussy and your endless moans as choso starts to pump his fingers in and out, reaching so much deeper than any of your toys can and stretching you out just right. your hips buck uncontrollably as you feel that coil in your stomach, knowing that you were only going to get even more of this before choso properly fucks you — but it’s all he promises, that to make sure you’d cum on his fingers and tongue thrice before he even thinks of railing you like you deserve.

“c-choso, your fingers—!”

“yeah?” it’s breathless, bottom half of his face all soaked and wet, but he goes right back in.

“mmfuck— cho, cho, p-please . .” your words are jumbled up, babbling through your teeth while his fingers gathers all of your juices, “i’m g’nna—”

choso thinks you’re just perfect like this, moaning as much as you want in his Mustang and spread out just for him to eat. he cannot keep his eyes off you, curling his fingers just a bit to find your sweet spot as he flicks your bundle of nerves as his eyes stay on the way your lips part for little pants to escape. your eyes have fluttered close by now but he doesn’t mind as you continue to push his head towards your cunt.

“cum on my fingers, my love,” the other groans, words muffled a little, “cum on my tongue like a good girl.” 

“cho— f-fuuck . .” you writhe around on the leather seats as you reach your peak, voice descending into a silent scream while your jaw hangs open. at his peripheral he can see and feel your thighs tremble while you chant his name like a prayer, over and over until you think your voice is hoarse. his seats are wet, no doubt, and you wince seeing your cum decorate the leather, but choso quietens your worries as he leans up to give you a kiss. you can taste yourself.

“taste good?” you’re ruined despite it being your first orgasm, answering half-heartedly before slumping, a soft moan leaving you when he removes his fingers and strings of your arousal stick to each digit. his hand naturally gravitates towards your mouth, fumbling with your lips before he pushes in — distracted, he takes the opportunity to latch his mouth onto your cunt again and you mewl loudly.

“that’s just the start,” choso grins, laying a long stripe up your pussy and groaning softly at the way your tongue swirls over his fingers, “i’m sorry in advance . . hope you’re able to get out of bed tomorrow, baby.”

#THANK U FOR WAITING OMGGG #enjoy ur holidays my love 💟 #asks #96jnie #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #kamo choso x reader #choso kamo #choso smut #choso x reader #jjk choso #jjk x y/n #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso x you #jjk choso x reader #jjk choso smut #choso kamo smut #choso kamo x reader

[mystra-midnight]

Language of Lust

summary: a botched hunt means that you need a refresher in latin thankfully sam is there to help.

warnings: mentions of a panic attack. forced orgasm. multiple orgasms. overstimulation. anal sex. unprotected sex. squirting. creampie.

words: 3.2k

notes: so a while ago i saw a post about being dommed in another language. and honestly it unlocked a kink i never knew i had. that post spawned this idea. please ignore the latin translations if they aren’t correct as i used google to translate. :)

In the days following the botched demon hunt, the atmosphere within the base had become tense, and that meant the three of you had been at each other's throats. It hadn’t mattered how many times you’d apologized or promised to do better next time, how much pie you’d bought for Dean, or that you’d cooked Sam's favorite meal twice; nothing had fixed it.

In truth, you all needed some space.

You most of all.

That panic attack came out of nowhere and left you completely shaken. Even a week later, you were hyperfocused on the details of it—the way the walls of the room had shuddered and groaned as you spoke the ritual words, making dust and old cobwebs fall around you. When you thought about it, your heart would race so fast and slam against your breastbone so hard that you could have sworn it started to crack.

The ringing in your ears had been a deafening crescendo, and your eyes had been a waterfall of tears even when Sam had knelt in front of you and pulled you into his chest. You remembered the sound of his voice and the beating of his heart as he whispered to you soothingly until the tears finally stopped.

You still didn't remember much about what had actually happened, but you knew that the demon had gotten away, and you knew that Dean was pissed and Sam was disappointed. Neither of them needed to say it out loud.

So for the past few days, you've busied yourself with whatever task you could find to take your mind off the entire situation. Dean had very much done the same; you hadn’t seen him since this morning, when he’d come back to grab a few things and then left again.

You knew that Sam was somewhere in the base; you’d seen him in passing a few times, but the two of you hadn’t spoken more than a few words to each other.

Normally, that would have upset you. You hated fighting with the boys, but you were feeling better and in a relatively good mood today.

You sigh as you step into the kitchen after showering to wash the sweat and anxiety from your skin. Your hair is still damp, and you're dressed in one of Dean's old shirts and a tight pair of bicycle shorts. Sam entered soon after, dressed just as casually. He looked entirely undisturbed by the events of the past few days.

"Hey," you say in passing, trying to sound as casual as possible.

"Hey yourself," he answers with a smile. For a moment, there was silence between you, but even that was short-lived. "You got the words wrong, you know," Sam says, leaning a hip against the door frame while he stares at you with arms crossed. He didn't sound angry, but it wasn't like he needed to say it; you knew you'd gotten them wrong.

Your head snaps around to stare at him, eyes narrowing at the fucking audacity he spoke with. Was that really what he wanted to say? "Yeah," you answer, your expression souring and your mouth in a tight-lipped scowl. "I figured that out from the silent treatment." You shrug your shoulders, trying not to let the hurt bleed into your voice as you turn away and busy yourself straightening a piece of paper on the table.

"Silent treatment?" He asks, pushing off the wall to come towards you. "No one is giving you the silent treatment."

"Sure you’re not," you scoff in response.

"We’re not."

"Then where is Dean? He’s running off doing his own thing because he’s pissed off at me for ruining the hunt, and it’s been two days since you said this much to me, Sam." You huff, clearly annoyed, as you cross your arms and glare at him. "No one learns from the silent treatment, Sam. Sure, I messed up. I know I did, and I’ll learn from that. The two of you don’t need to be assholes about it. But whatever, live and let live."

He walks briskly towards you, and you step back, not in fear but because the raw emotions in his eyes stun you—lust and dominance mingling beautifully in the depths of his iridescent orbs. Sam doesn't stop when you back away; instead, he walks until the small of your back is pressed against the edge of the table, and then he cages you between his arms, palms pressed flat against the table top.

"S - Sam?" You stutter when his lips pull into a smooth smirk. One of his hands grabs you by the hip, his fingertips biting into your skin just a little bit too much, and he pulls you against him, painting his body firmly against yours.

And then he’s kissing you, and you kiss him, and whatever anger was on your tongue dies.

Sam does not waste time and pushes his hand into your bicycle shorts, the material so tight that it fits you like a second skin. He wants desperately to rip it down your legs and feast on your pussy, but he shows remarkable restraint.

"If you wanted more lessons," he says between heated kisses that muffle your little gasps when he starts to rub his fingers against your clit. "You just needed to ask, sweetheart." His other hand grasps your jaw hard with his thumb and forefinger, pushing into your cheeks so that you were pouting when he kissed you again, pushing his tongue into your mouth.

You have the notion to argue with him but are silenced when he pushes a finger through your folds, which are slick with desire and anticipation. You grab at his arm when he prods your entrance, making your knees weak. "Sam, I—" you start but are silenced by the stare in his eyes.

"In Latin." 

"Sam?"

"In Latin." He says it again, this time with more force, his words accompanied by a second finger being pushed into your tight hole, drawing a wanton moan from your lips. You’re not sure where this behaviour is coming from. Sam had never so much as hinted at liking you, but in truth, you weren’t one to complain—not when he was knuckles deep in your cunt.

Your fingers curl tightly around the edge of the table, nails scratching at the underside, knuckles white under the pressure. You tilt your head back beneath his wandering mouth, enjoying the warmth of his body hovering over yours and how he pulls your shirt up to expose your tits.

Sam trails hot, wet kisses down your neck, his teeth scraping over your racing pulse. He sucks a hickey on your collarbone until a purple-blue bruise forms beneath his lips. The entire time he’s pumping his fingers into your cunt. Lewd, wet squelching fills the room because you’re that fucking wet.

He forces your legs further apart with his knee so that you're perched on the edge of the table, feet dangling in the air. His mouth moves to your chest, his lips closing around your nipple and sucking hard so that it pops from his mouth with an obscene sound and stands hard atop your tit. And then he takes the other one into his mouth, flicking and twirling his tongue so that you had to fist a hand in his hair.

He whispers something that you can’t make out. His mouth is like fire on your skin, leaving little flames of arousal licking through your veins. And then his fingers hit that spongy part of your pussy that has you hurtling towards a climax instead of slowly building to it.

You can’t help the way your nails dig into his shoulders when you cling to him when your thighs tremble. You cling to him when the storm comes out of nowhere, sweeping you away on a cloud of bliss that has you throwing your head back. He feels your walls tighten around his fingers, fresh waves of arousal against the tips, and then he’s kissing you again, rubbing his thumb in circles around your clit to keep the aftershocks of climax trembling through you.

His mouth is hot, stealing the air from your lungs until they are burning, but you don’t mind because you're still coming down from your high.

The next thing you know, it’s been an hour, and Sam has managed to make you cum three more times, twice with his fingers buried knuckle deep in your pussy, scissoring them to send you teetering over the edge of oblivion. And then once more, with his mouth on your pussy, lips encircling around your clit and sucking so hard that all you could do was repeat his name like a heaven’s prayer.

You’re done, but he wasn’t, not by a long shot.

Sam spread you out on your back, laying you out like a feast, your skin flushed and tits heaving with heavy breaths. You feel the rough pad of his thumb rubbing circles around your clit, which is slightly swollen and much too sensitive, and you claw at his wrist to push him away. Sam just smiles at you and pins both your wrists to the mattress with one of his large hands.

"It’s too much," you whine, trying to pull away and wiggle your hips away from his fingers, but you’re trapped. And you love it as much as you hate it. Sam growls softly between his teeth, his thumb prodding through your slick folds and getting nice and wet before drifting lower to push against your asshole. Your breath hitches at the sensation, and your mind spins as he pushes his thumb inside, giving a few shallow thrusts to tease you.

"Hic tam arctus es, infans," he says, his voice heavy with lust and muffled against your heaving tits. His breath is hot against your skin, his teeth scrape over your racing heartbeat, and his tongue leaves your skin inflamed and glistening. There is a knot twisting through your belly, slowly pulling tighter as his thumb pushes in and out of your tight hole.

"Ubi vis me?" His words are lost in the haze of euphoria he’s trapped you in, as meaningless as the world around you has become. You were a slave to the sensations he embodied, desperately moving your hips to take him deeper. "Hic?"

"Sam," you whine, your voice straining as you struggle in his grasp. You need him; you need to feel your pussy stretching around his big, hard cock. You need to feel him buried inside you, fucking you into oblivion.

"Hic?" He says it again, twisting his thumb in a way that has you throwing your head back and bucking your hips desperately. You can feel him smiling against your tit as he mouths it, his teeth tugging at your nipple until your back arches.

Your breath comes quicker, little pants, when he pulls his thumb from your clenching asshole, the feeling exquisite and leaving you desperate for more despite the live wires of overstimulation snaking through your veins. Sam lets go of your wrists long enough to pull one of your legs up, laying the back of your thigh up his torso so that your knee is bent over his shoulder, and then he shackles them again, trapping you beneath him.

You move restlessly when you feel his thumb against your asshole again, except this time it's not his thumb, and your eyes go wide, a whimper falling from your parted lips. You weren’t a virgin, not at all, but this would be the first time you’d ever taken something so big in your ass.

There was no mistaking that Sam Winchester was a behemoth of a man. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, and strong—Hercules reborn. Everything about him is big. His hands, his feet, his thighs, and his cock. Everything about him is solid, cut from marble; he is beautiful. His cock makes your asshole sting beautifully as he pushes the mushroom head in.

Inch by glorious inch, he pushed forward, the prominent vein on the underside of his cock dragging along your stretched hole. "Jesus, tam stricta es," he breathes against your neck, but you still don’t understand. He’s slow, letting you get used to the feeling of his cock splitting you open with short, shallow thrusts, making you moan wantonly.

He loves the little things that you do, the simple things; the pleasure that sears through him as he stretches your tightest hole; the way you’re moaning like a whore, rocking your hips desperately against his, grinding against him. He starts moving with more urgency, drawing back so that only the head of his cock is fitted snugly inside, and then he’s thrusting back in with one stroke, hitting deep, leaving you throwing your head from side to side.

Your thighs quiver, and your toes curl. Sam fucks into you at a merciless pace, stretching you out and filling you completely, and the feeling of it is beyond words. It is beautiful and exquisite—pure euphoric bliss. It makes your pussy creamy with desire, so much so that your slick drips down your crack to mingle with his thrusts. That knot in your belly pulls tighter while your clit throbs and the muscles in your thighs ache. Your lungs burn because of how you’re panting, unable to catch your breath.

His fingers tighten around your wrists when you almost buck out of his grasp, the tips of them biting into your skin so that you can feel bruises starting to form, but you don’t care. You’re so close, so fucking close. His mouth is on your neck, his teeth scraping over your racing pulse, his lips leaving hickeys behind, and his tongue leaving your skin hot and wet.

You can feel the pressure building. Your pussy is clenching desperately around nothing, and you can feel your pulse beating in your toes, your clit, even in your fingertips—you’re that close to breaking. It feels so fucking good, but you’re fighting it because the pleasure is starting to border on pain and overstimulation.

And you’re lost in it, trapped as you are beneath him.

You crave that sweet release, the way fire will race through your blood, and the way your world will be scored with lightning. You need it as much as you need to breathe, but every part of you is alive. You can hear the blood rushing behind your ears; hear the beating of your heart as it slams into your breastbone; your eyes rolling back every time his hips snap forward, pushing every inch of him deep inside you.

"Venire," he growls against your neck, his breath literally burning against your sweat-slicked skin. You don’t know what he says, but the lust in his voice and the feral look in his eyes pull that coil painfully tight. You’re breaking—he’s breaking you. He’s got you on the verge of being fucked stupid, sobbing because of him and how good it feels, but he wants more from you.

"Sam! Sam, please, please," you plead, throwing your head from side to side, desperately trying to tug your hands free. You arch your back when he hits a spot that has dots decorating your vision, your tits thrusting into the air. You can’t figure out what you’re asking for. For him to stop or for him to keep going, it’s a blur.

Every movement of his hips has that knot pulling tighter—so tight that you might die. Your pussy is twitching, clenching around nothing, and you’re so wet that it’s shining on his skin every time he bottoms out.

"Venire," he says again, this time against your ear. Your pleasure-addled brain, so drugged with pleasurable pain and desperate for the release he’s forcing from you, only comprehends what he's saying when two of his fingers are shoved through your slick folds and into your clenching hole, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing harsh circles.

You struggle to close your thighs, tears streaming down your face, tits bouncing as he fucks you harder. His cock is stretching your ass beyond belief while his fingers ram into that spongy spot that has your vision decorated with stars. "I - I - I - can’t!" You manage to stutter out, hips bucking against his, your pussy clenching so tight around his fingers.

Except you can because that dam breaks with so much pressure that you scream. It feels like lightning has hit your body, sizzling through your veins until you’re thrashing beneath him, your thighs quivering violently, and your toes curled so much that it hurts.  Sam doesn’t stop, not even when your ass tightens around his cock to the point of pain. He just presses his thumb against your clit, circling, rubbing, and making you scream for him.

You feel a gush between your thighs, your pussy convulsing around his fingers as you cum in a fountain spray. Sam curls his fingers into your g-spot, scissors them, and pulls them from you to draw out as much cum as possible. If you had any brains left, you might have been embarrassed by the way you came, squirting so hard that it hits his abdomen and drips from the nest of curls at the base of his shaft, how it drenches your thighs and pools on the mattress beneath you.

But you’re gone, lost, and fucked dumb, only able to grunt as he keeps fucking you.

"Tam pulchra, infans, tam formosa, tam mihi dura venit." His own voice is trembling, and his balls draw closer to his body as the muscles in his abdomen tighten. He buries himself deep so that your ass is full and your pussy tingles. And you feel it as he grunts against your neck—feel the white-hot ribbons of cum filling your ass.

Sam keeps thrusting until you've milked him dry, and then he pulls out, drawing a pathetic, desperate moan from your lips because of the sensation. Having let go of your wrists, he sits back on his haunches. You lay there, your thighs still trembling, your mind lost. Sam watches the way your pretty pussy twitches and the way your ass puckers, and his sticky cum drips from it in fat globs.

"What do pretty girls say after being filled with cum?" He asks, his voice soft, his fingers pushing his cum back into your stretched-out ass so that you were whimpering and shaking again. You manage to peel your eyes open to stare at him, tears in them, your chest heaving as he shoves two long fingers into your asshole.

He speaks English this time so that you understand, but you are still slow to react, straining to close your thighs. He kisses you without warning, his tongue in your mouth, licking yours until you're clawing at his shoulders to keep him there, desperate for his kiss.

"Gratias tibi." You managed with a weary smile, and that was enough for him for the moment.

the translations ::

Hic tam arctus es, infans. - You’re so tight here, baby.

Ubi vis me? - Where do you want me?

Hic? - Here?

Hic? - Here?

Jesus, tam stricta es. - Jesus, you’re so tight.

Venire - Come/cum.

Venire - Come/cum.

Tam pulchra, infans, tam formosa, tam mihi dura venit. - So pretty, baby, so beautiful, coming so hard for me.

Gratias tibi - Thank you.

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