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macfrog · 9 months

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mile high sex on fire chapter three

we're going overseas baby! (this is gonna be a three-parter cause i hyperfixated and couldn't stop myself so BUCKLE UP) author's note: i absolutely do NOT condone the use of private jets. they are GROSS and terrible for the environment and just fucking fly commerical ok? but in this ceo!joel ficland, private jets are fuelled by delusion and emit only clean, pure oxygen. thank you for reading. now, with that in mind, please enjoy reader being railed in a plane cabin. i love u all to paris n back 🤍🥐

pairing: ceo!joel x fem!reader

summary: you accompany joel on a work trip to paris, to eat good food, drink expensive wine, and…get to know each other a little better

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) environmental crime, plane sex, fingering, handjob, unprotected piv sex, daddy kink, joel being a fucking exhibitionist menace, creampie, more gf representation, showering together, softdom!joel, sugardaddy!joel, heavy on the flirting, age gap (reader is late 20s, joel late 40s), cursing, very ridiculous spending on very ridiculous things, workplace relationship and therefore odd power dynamic yadda yadda yadda

word count: 6.3k

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Joel’s fingers squeeze your hips, his pace quickens even more. “Louder.” “They’re gonna – ah – they’re gonna hear.” “Who?” Joel asks. He knows damn well who. You’re only separated by a thin paneled wall. You’d be fucking surprised if the flight attendants haven’t been hearing you for the last twenty minutes. “Baby,” Joel’s voice coos as he bends forward, sweaty chest flat against your back. His lips line with your ear, his breath hot on your skin. “They get paid not to hear.”

You’ve never been on a work trip with Joel. Usually, he likes to take them alone. Martha told you once about a time a couple years before you started when Joel took an intern to a conference in Canada, and the kid spent the entire first night in the hotel bar, missed the conference the next day, and only just made the flight home, scruff of his neck between Joel’s knuckles.

He racked up a bill of nearly a thousand dollars just on liqueur and finger food. Joel had sworn he’d never take anybody anywhere with him again.

But there’s this client over in Europe he’s due to meet – an annual thing where they sit on the terrace of some luxurious hotel, drink expensive wine that tastes like piss, according to Joel, and have a cock-off over their money and status.

Sounds like fun, right?

You’ve a pretty good idea why he asked you. And he made a pretty convincing pitch: he’d promised you a relaxing weekend. You didn’t have to sit in on any meetings, he’d let you amble around the city by day, take you for a fancy dinner or two at night. All expenses paid. You barely had to lift a finger.

As per the deal, Martha organized the travel documents. Printed them, collated them, handed them to you in a neat little folder with a paperclip on top and a Post-It note with Have fun! written in red ink. You’d slipped it into your bag and followed Joel to his car, nodding to Rand as you ducked under the starlit ceiling.

Joel’s left hand sits around your thigh – because where else would it be? – his right clutching his phone, thumb scrolling as he absentmindedly reads some document. You’re watching the city soar by from behind tinted glass. Before long, it’s the dark green of trees flickering by, and then, canvased by the clear blue sky, an air traffic control tower in the distance.

The Rolls saunters past the main entrance to the airport. You watch it roll by, leaning forward in your seat.

“Wait, what…?”

“What, baby?” Joel asks, looking up from his phone.

You usually knew every fine detail of the plan by heart. It was your job to. But with Martha being in charge of arranging your flight, you’d missed one crucial speck of information this time. And that is –

You’re travelling by private fucking jet.

The car drives across smooth tarmac toward a pointed white plane, bold against the brilliant blue sky behind it. There are four people standing at the bottom of the steps leading into it; what you assume are the two pilots, and two smartly dressed flight attendants.

“How did I never know you had a…?”

Joel smirks. “Never showed you it. C’mon.”

He gets out, strolls around to your door and opens it for you. You’re still gawking at the jet.

“Jeez…” you whisper, hopping out of the car.

“What is it?” he says through a chuckle, leading you across the tarmac.

“I feel so…Everyone looks so…I’m in my fucking sweatpants, Joel.”

He looks at you under low brows, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. Like he doesn’t want to hear one more word of it. He holds an arm out; his pinkie bumps into your tummy.

“I think you look beautiful, darlin’.”

It might’ve stopped you in your tracks. Might’ve crumbled the entire airport to dust. Might’ve made the sun drop out of the sky. You’re not sure. You wouldn’t notice if you dropped dead right now.

His words, his soft voice when he says them, send a pang of white noise through your ears, echoing around and bouncing off the walls of your head.

You swallow. Digest what he just said. And do your best to forget all about it.

Joel takes your hand and leads you to the plane steps, helping you up. He follows at your heels. “Thanks, Jerry, Lisa,” he says. You give both pilots a nervous smile as you pass.

The airconditioned cabin chills your arms when you reach the top, twisting around to look back to Joel.

“Go on.” Joel nods, palm ushering you inside.

You step forward and turn right, standing in the doorway to a pristine, white-walled, wooden interior cabin, leather seats dotted against the walls, dark brown glassy tables between them, soft gray carpet at your feet, vacuum cleaner lines still visible. There’s a long plush couch on the left wall, today’s newspaper on the side table next to it.

You feel Joel’s body shell around yours, his chin dips against your ear.

“Like it?”

“Not really. Feelin’ pretty guilty about all the air pollution.”

“How many trees you want me to plant to make up for it?”

You tut. “What are you doin’ in business? You’re so funny.”

You wander off without looking back, heading for one of the window seats.

“Uh,” Joel clears his throat, “there’s a separate cabin up back, too, if you want it.”

“Separate cabin?”

He nods. “’s got a bed. It’s cozy.”

A bed. Of course this asshole has a fucking bed in his private jet.

The pilots file in behind him, dipping into the cockpit. The flight attendants follow, and begin preparing for takeoff. Joel strolls over to the seat opposite yours, giving your legs a nudge under the varnished table when he sits down.

You both click your seatbelts into place, relax, and look out the window as the jet rolls by the airport, heading for the runway. The engine fires up properly, a deep hum you feel rattling up your spine, and then you’re pulled forward, body pushing heavily into the soft leather of your seat.

The plane races down the runway, the grass and trees blurring into a mix of dark and light green, before you’re lifting off the tarmac and into the air, your tummy flipping a little from excitement and maybe some nerves, and…Joel’s gaze on you.

When your eyes meet his, he scans down. Your little black t-shirt, skin tight. The way your breasts rise and fall with your breathing. Down to the waist of your sweatpants, then further down your legs. You know exactly what’s going through his mind.

And, honestly…being on a private jet on your way to a free weekend in Paris, accompanied by the best sex you’ve ever had…? Goes against a couple of your core beliefs about the world, but you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t on your mind, too.

The flight attendants let you guys know you can unbuckle your belts now, and, like a hive mind, you both unclip them and stand.

“Was gonna go check out that, uh–”

“I’ll show you to it,” Joel cuts in, taking your bag and leading you down the aircraft. He dips his head as he walks, the cabin too small for him to stand straight. You follow like a fucking dog, trying to hide the spring in your step.

Through a door concealed to look like part of the wall is a small room with a double bed, soft white sheets untouched. There’s a little TV on the wall opposite, a small table with another comfy chair by one of the windows, and a rail for hanging up clothes. The shades over the windows are pulled almost all the way down, sunlight splintering through and lining the soft carpet.

Joel wasn’t wrong. It is cozy.

He sets your bag down on the floor and closes the door behind you. You notice he locks it.

The corners of your lips tug, your eyebrows raise. “Might be classier than my bedroom.”

He scoffs, and you turn, falling back onto the bed and kicking your shoes off.

“Alright,” you announce, flat-out on the sheets, “I’m gonna get some shut-eye.”

Joel looks surprised. Almost – offended. “Sh…You’re gonna sleep?”

“’s why you got a bed, ain’t it?”

He narrows his eyes, runs his tongue along the bottom of his teeth. Steps forward. Sticks a knee between yours. “Not exactly.”

You smile up at him. He’s pulling the jacket from his shoulders, plain white tee underneath. He looks so fucking good. The man always looks so fucking good. He tosses the jacket to the floor and bends down over you. Hands pressing deep into the bed either side of your head, torso hovering over yours. Hips just too far away for you to lift yours up to meet them.

You take hold of his wrists. “Then…show me what it’s for.”

Joel looks from your lips to your chest, then back up to your eyes, grinning like a devil. He lifts one hand and his fingers come down to play with the drawstring of your sweatpants, tugging painfully slow on them. You want to whine, but that’d be letting him win too easily.

He loosens the waist and his fingers find the hem of your tee tucked beneath.

“You gonna show me those pretty tits, baby?”

You nod, biting your lip as he peels your top from your body, your back arching, arms splaying out on the bed. Joel uncovers your chest and slips the top over your head, discarding it to the side and leaning back to take the view in.

You didn’t wear a bra today. Wanted to travel in as much comfort as possible.

One of your wiser choices.

“Fuck, darlin’…” he breathes, eyes set on your perky tits, your round, hardened nipples. His reaction sends a fleet of electricity down to your core.

“C’mere,” you whisper, taking his shirt in your fists and dragging him down against your naked torso. And then his hips are there, right against yours, and you grind up into him, feeling his bulging crotch between your legs.

Your fingers dance along the hem of his shirt and he lifts off of you, letting you tug it over his head before his chest is pressed back against yours. You part your lips and he fills your mouth with his tongue, hands in your hair, body grinding against your own. He’s pushing you further up the mattress until you’re both in the center, disturbing the sheets and shifting the cushions decorating the bed.

Joel’s hand trails down your naked stomach and under your pants, cutting past the lace of your underwear to cup your mound, middle finger daring ever lower. You moan and drag your hips forward to edge his fingers further, until they’re dipping between your folds and your body’s rolling with pleasure.

“Yeah,” Joel murmurs, “that’s it, huh? That’s what you want?”

“Uhuh,” you nod, bottom lip between your teeth, eyelashes batting in a plea for him to keep going. Keep fucking going.

His mouth dips between your jaw and your shoulder, teeth picking up your hot skin to suck a bruise while two fingers push inside of you, lifting your back from the mattress and into Joel’s rock-solid body. Some noise escapes his lips, something caught between a laugh and a groan.

“So tight, baby,” he murmurs, drawing a smile across your face.

And then your hands are messing around at his waistband, fingers fumbling with the button. Wanting him in your hands as much as he has you around his own. Needing to feel what you’re doing to him, since he’s well aware of what he’s done to you.

Joel’s hand slips gently out from under your pants and his weight lifts off of you. In the slivers of light streaming through the cabin windows, his silhouette steps back off the bed and shoves the denim down his thighs. His jeans hit the floor and as quick as he left you, he’s back pressing into you again, hard outline of his length nudging against the top of your thigh.

You slip a hand under the elastic of his underwear and take hold of his cock, while he picks up where he left off between your legs. Your lips connect, breathing laughs and pants and desperate moans into each other, hands working to push each other closer and closer…

Joel’s fingers pump in and out, curling just enough to hit your G-spot every time. His thumb’s bumping at your clit, pushing waves of pleasure with each circle. He adds a third finger when you start to gasp, the movement of your fist around his shaft becoming messy and staggered. You’re trying to focus on him, trying to get him there as fast as he’s getting you, but he’s so fucking good at it, and you’re starting to fade out of the cabin.

Your eyes roll shut; head falls back against the bed. You’re still trying to fucking jack him off, as if he’d even let himself cum in your hands before he’s been inside you. But you’re desperately trying not to give him the satisfaction of having you unfold on his hand less than ten minutes into this. Desperately trying not to give in to him and his stupid private jet.

“It’s okay, baby,” Joel whispers in your ear, pressing a delicate kiss to your hair, “you can cum. Do it for me.”

“F-uck you,” you whisper, and you cave.

Let’s put it down to the air pressure when you’re this high up. In fact, let’s just say: you’re on a plane, and you’ve never had anything remotely close to sex on a plane before, and that’s why, when your orgasm bursts through, you cum harder than you think you’ve ever done before. It’s because of how fucking insane this is.

Let’s just say.

You come to with your face buried in the crook of Joel’s neck. His chest is vibrating, Adam’s apple bobbing. You pull back and notice the dimples in his swollen cheeks, the crow’s feet by his eyes, and then…the wide smile spread across his lips.

“That feel good, darlin’?” he asks through a laugh.

You curse at him again, eyes screwing shut. His hand’s still between your legs, slowly moving in and out, lulling you through the tail end of your orgasm. Your hands have deserted their original job; they’re clutching Joel’s shoulders. You don’t even remember grabbing onto him.

“Got somethin’ that’ll make you feel even better,” he breathes, and before you’re fully awake, his hands are on your hips, flipping you over. He drags your pants down your legs, discarding them to the floor beside his.

You sigh when he pulls your ass up into the air, resting your ear on your folded arms. Accepting defeat, or maybe just…letting him do what he does best.

Joel slips your panties to the side and runs his cock up and down your dripping cunt. You flinch, still sensitive, and feel him slow down.

“Gonna make you feel real good, alright?”

“Mhm,” you reply, eyes closing again as he lines up.

It sounds like a bit of a dumb thing to say. Joel makes you feel good every time his hands are on you, without question. Even that first night, in that dive bar, before he’d ever really done anything. His hands sent electricity through your body that you failed all weekend to rid yourself of. But you hear what he’s really saying.

You haven’t had each other yet without someone on the other side of the wall, waiting for one of you. It’s always been a rush, always been about that race to the finish line just to satisfy your needs, and then return to Earth as soon as you’re done.

There’s no need to rush to that finish line this time around. Nobody’s waiting. Joel can do whatever he wants, can fuck you however he likes, and have you under his hand for as long as he wants. As long as you both last.

The bed makes sense now, doesn’t it?

He pushes inside you, thick, hard, full. You gasp, face burying into the comforter, legs spreading to accommodate his size. Your fingers grasp onto the sheets, nails digging into the soft fabric as he fills you up, pulls halfway out, and rocks back in.

“Fuck, Joel,” you cry, and his hips slam into yours.

“Huh?” he asks.

“Daddy,” you correct yourself, still gasping.

“Better.”

Joel pounds into you, strong grip on your waist, pulling you up and down his cock at a punishing pace. His grunts match your whines. Your hand stretches out to grab something – anything – to hold onto, to steady yourself as your body begins to collapse.

“Daddy,” you mewl again, muffled by the cotton of the sheets, like it’s the only word coming to mind. “So – fuckin’ – good.”

“Louder, baby,” he replies, groaning when you tighten around him.

You whimper. “F-fuck, daddy.”

Joel’s fingers squeeze your hips, his pace quickens even more. “Louder.”

“They’re gonna – ah – they’re gonna hear.”

“Who?” Joel asks.

He knows damn well who. You’re only separated by a thin paneled wall. You’d be fucking surprised if the flight attendants haven’t been hearing you for the last twenty minutes.

“Baby,” Joel’s voice coos as he bends forward, sweaty chest flat against your back. His lips line with your ear, his breath hot on your skin. “They get paid not to hear.”

His hips crack into yours again once, and then halt. You cry out, the sudden feeling of him in his entirety, filling you up, pushing right up against your cervix, too much to bear. Too much to be muffled by the mattress beneath you.

“Let – them,” Joel’s hips drag back, slow, leaving you empty, “hear – you.”

He thrusts forward again, painfully, and you moan. Loud. “Ah, daddy,” you cry out again, and you swear Joel’s chest rumbles behind you with a laugh.

“That’s it, good girl. Tell ‘em how good it feels.”

You feel your mind start to slip, the cabin going with it. Your eyes roll closed, your mouth falls open. The only sound escaping your lips a whine, over and over, shaped just like the word daddy, daddy, daddy.

Joel’s forehead rests on the crown of yours, his voice a soft hum at the nape of your neck.

“See? Sound way too pretty to keep quiet, darlin’.”

He’s panting, words spilling out of his mouth between gasps and grunts. Hips are snapping at a grueling pace. You reach for his wrists again, planted in the bed either side of your head, and squeeze as if it might relieve the building tension in the pit of your stomach.

But he’s going so fast, so hard, fucking you dumb. And you can feel him start to falter, when your walls hold him snug, tightening around him as you reach your high.

He cums when you do. You feel him empty inside you as you hurtle through your own orgasm, rippling bliss all around your body. You both cry out, filling the tiny room with groans of pleasure and release together.

Your hips give, fall flat to the mattress, Joel still inside, slowly rocking back and forth, pushing his cum deeper and deeper inside you.

His elbows sink into the bed at your shoulders, caging you under his body as the remnants of your highs wash away. He’s running soft, wet kisses from your neck down the top of your spine. When your body stills, the pulsing of your cunt a mere flutter, he slips out from between your legs and pushes up off of your body.

Joel collapses alongside you atop the tangle of sheets and pillows, skin sticking, bodies thrumming with energy. You roll over to lie next to him. Chests rising and falling in unison, fingers intertwining at your sides. You’re staring at the ceiling, head tilting to rest on Joel’s shoulder, and he places a soft kiss to your hair.

You glance up to look into his brown eyes, lit by the thin rays of bursting sunlight seeping through the windows. The way the light moves across him as the plane turns, brilliant rays sweeping over the horizon and reflecting every angle of his face.

When he notices you, he dips his chin, and you prop yourself up, pressing your lips to his. Joel holds your jaw softly, thumb grazing over your cheekbone. His other hand scoops around your back, holding your body close to his.

“Sleepy,” you mutter, and he nods.

“Get some rest,” he tells you, but you’re already laying your head down on his chest.

Your heavy eyes blink the jet out of view; Joel’s hand stroking your hair sends you off to sleep.

----------

You wake under the white sheets, still wrapped up in Joel’s arms, to the sound of voices on the TV. Some comedy movie. Sounds like Adam Sandler. Joel mutes it when he notices you stirring.

“Afternoon,” he mutters, voice husky.

“Hi,” you reply softly, and his hand runs through your hair. “How long was I out?”

“Only a little while. They’re probably getting ready for lunch. You want me to head out first?”

You nod, suddenly feeling ashamed…and hungry. “Yeah. ‘n can you…make sure they don’t ask?”

“They ain’t gonna ask,” he groans, laughing as you roll off his body and let him up.

You watch as he dresses himself, toned arms pulling his tee over broad shoulders; tan legs slipping back into neat jeans. He slings his jacket over his arm and bends back down over you to let you kiss him again – slow, deep. Something of a thanks, a you’re welcome, maybe. A marker, anyway. A prelude to this weekend.

And then he slips out front. You lock the door behind him and start collecting your clothes, hopping around the cabin as you pull them on.

Before you leave, you grab a hoodie from your bag, feeling a little more exposed than you did when you first boarded. You toss it over your shoulders and open the door.

“Couple more hours,” Joel tells you as you sit opposite him, propping your ankles on his lap. His hands run over your socks, brows furrowing when he notices the pattern. “Bart Simpson?”

“Comfiest socks I own. Good plane socks.”

“Alright.”

“Go on. Make fun of ‘em.”

“I didn’t say anything. You want somethin’ to eat?”

You smirk. “Sure.”

He pours you a glass of water from the metal jug on the table between you both, and one of the attendants appears as if by magic on your right.

“Got you gluten free stuff,” Joel says as you gulp at the ice water.

You almost choke. “Seriously?”

His face twists, confused. Mirroring your astonishment. “Yeah. You think I’d let you starve?”

You almost laugh before you hear it, and realize how sweet it is. You didn’t even know Joel noticed this stuff. Didn’t think it’d be on his radar.

“Thank you,” you whisper, lifting your glass to mask the blush burning across your cheeks.

Joel nods once. Then turns to the attendant and asks for a burger, side of fries, side of onion rings. “We got sweet potato fries, Len?” he asks.

“Think so,” Len replies. “Want them instead? Or both?”

Joel thinks it over for probably two seconds, before he shrugs and says, “Both. Thanks, man.”

Len turns to you, but you’re still staring at Joel. “Unbelievable,” you mutter.

Joel holds his hands out. “I’m hungry.”

You give Len a smile. “What’s…What can I have?”

“We got gluten free flour, bread, pasta, uh…garlic bread for sides, too. And a couple desserts.”

“What the f…?” You stare at Joel. “You didn’t have to–”

“Just order, baby,” Joel says, palm facing you, stopping you from going on.

“I’ll, uh…You do fried chicken?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I’ll have fried chicken, side of fries, and coleslaw, if you have it, please.”

Len nods curtly and heads back up front, leaving you and Joel on your own again. You finish your thought.

“What the fuck?”

He’s chuckling. “What?”

“You…This is…Nothing, you just…you blow my mind, every time.”

Joel shrugs, grinning. “Blow your back out, ‘n all.”

“Alright.” You snatch your ankles from his grasp – Bart’s toothy smirk slipping from between Joel’s fingers – and sit up straight, looking out of the window to the dazzling sky; bright blue on top and fluffy white clouds beneath.

Your food arrives shortly after and the pair of you eat in comfortable silence. Joel checks through his emails, you sit back in your seat with your headphones in. It’s nice, not having a phone to answer or Joel’s schedule to fix. Nicer, still, having him feet away from you, giving you all the attention you could possibly want at the drop of a hat.

You land in Paris at 10PM local time. Straight off the plane and into another sleek, black car, driven by a gray-haired, sharp-suited man named Denis whose hand Joel shakes before climbing in beside you. He slides into the leather seat and you fall against one another, your head on his shoulder. Partition wound up, though neither of you feel much like doing anything that’d require privacy. Your eyes are tired, heavy, you smell like eight hours’ worth of plane, and you’re basically salivating at the thought of collapsing into a huge, soft, clean bed.

Which is exactly what the pair of you do when you reach the hotel. You’re in some extravagant suite picked by Joel; you manage two glances around the dark place before he’s leading you by hand off to the bedroom, cases still parked at the front door.

And before you know it, you’re sinking into the plush sheets of a king-size bed, limbs entangled with Joel’s, city lights twinkling through the window into your sleep-glazed eyes as you drift off.

----------

Day breaks across Paris around seven in the morning. You wake with the blue glow of the sky, dusty pink on the horizon bleeding upward as the sun rises higher. When your eyes open and adjust to the light, you glance over Joel’s still sleeping body and notice the view behind him, split in half by the silhouette of the Eiffel Tower.

The curtains are still pulled back – neither of you noticed nor had the energy to shut them when you arrived. You’re both still in your clothes from yesterday, too. Joel managed to kick off his shoes, and you remember him pulling yours off before he fell into the bed next to you. You didn’t even sleep under the bedsheets.

You push yourself up off the bed, stretching your back and glancing around. This room is fucking nuts. Gold accented – gold handles, gold light switches, gold frames. Pretentious modern art decorating each wall, an upholstered headboard that almost touches the ceiling in front of you. Marble-topped nightstands with spotless silver lamps, glinting in the light.

You roll off of the bed, Bart Simpson socks landing on soft carpet, though his face has been awkwardly twisted around your ankle in your sleep. You shuffle off to a door on the left, leading down a small hallway – past some fancy ornate vase – to the living room: a wide, open space with the same floor-to-ceiling windows as the bedroom, looking out to the same view.

Two velvet couches sit opposite one another, a white marble coffee table sat between. Behind them, a dining table with eight chairs. Gleaming varnished wood. And then, through a couple more doors, a kitchenette with modern white cabinets, a coffee machine, a microwave.

Fucking. Nuts.

You hear Joel stirring in the bedroom and wander back through, dazed with sleep and amazement at this place. He’s rubbing his eyes when you walk in and spring down on top of him on the bed.

“Mornin’,” he grumbles, voice thick and husky. His hands fall onto your thighs, sat either side of his waist, and his eyes flutter open. “You’re energetic.”

“Have you fucking seen this place?”

“I have. Stay here every year.”

You press further into him, feeling a swell in his jeans and doing your best to ignore it.

“Can we go explore?”

“Outside?”

You nod eagerly, despite the way his face screws up.

“Baby,” he sighs, “I’m still in my damn jeans.”

“So, go shower. Get dressed.”

He’s not done protesting. “We travelled for, like, nine hours straight yesterday.”

“’n now we’re here and we ain’t here long, so let’s go do something. C’mon.”

You lace your fingers through Joel’s and pull him up toward you, sitting in his lap on the bed. He buries his face in your chest, mumbling something incoherent into the cotton of your shirt.

You giggle. “Huh? Can’t hear you.”

Joel pulls back with a sigh and rolls his eyes dramatically. “Alright,” he says, “go get ready.”

You leap off of him with a quiet squeal of glee.

As you pace around the suite, dragging your case into the bedroom, fishing some clean clothes and your toothbrush out, practically skipping into the marble-tiled shower room, Joel lays back in bed watching your every move. Smiling, eyebrows lifting with encouragement anytime you look over to him. Head resting back in the crook of his arm, sleepy eyes taking in all of your excitement.

You’re rinsing shampoo out of your hair when he slides into the shower behind you, a quick kiss to your shoulder.

“No sex,” you tell him with a pointed finger, squeezing the lemon scented gel into the palm of your hand.

“No, ma’am,” he says with a smirk, dipping his head to let you lather up the suds in his salt and pepper hair. “So, where we goin’?”

You shrug. “Wherever. Lots to do in Paris.”

“Wanna get you somethin’ nice,” he says, eyes screwed shut as he runs his head under the flow of water, “a thanks for comin’ with me.”

“I think maybe the private jet, the hotel room, plus the free trip in itself is thanks enough, Joel.”

But Joel disagrees. Heartily, apparently.

He takes your hand and helps you out of the car on a tree-lined street, tall cream buildings on either side. It looks like a movie set. You’re following Joel’s lead, spending more time craning your neck to look up at the huge, ornate windows guarded by black balconettes while he guides you across cobblestone toward the smoothly paved sidewalk.

You’re not even paying attention to where he’s taking you until you’re stood in the middle of a glistening store, plush rug under your feet, lavish chairs in the center of the room, a rainbow of fashion surrounding you.

“What…? No, Joel.”

“Hm?” he asks, eyes scanning the room. He takes a step, and you tug on his arm.

“I can’t fucking afford Gucci,” you whisper, pulling his body back against yours.

He hands you a bemused smile, eyebrows low, corners of his lips pulled. “All expenses paid, baby.”

Your arm falls limp and he drags you through the store, past mannequins in patterned gowns and silk shirts, past shelves of obnoxiously huge purses and accessories gleaming in the spotlights from above.

Your fingers stay locked around Joel’s hand, your head swiveling so much you worry it might fall off, looking from the vibrant floral wallpaper down to the spotless tiled floor, glancing politely at attendants and then dipping your head and wandering by them behind Joel.

“See anything?” he asks, turning to you at the opposite end of the store.

It’s ridiculous. This entire trip…is ridiculous, and you’ve only been here twelve hours. Following around at Joel’s heels like a puppy, watching as he clicks his fingers – no, before he even gets the chance to click his fingers – and everything and anything either of you could dream up just…happens. Right in front of you.

He won’t let up. You know him. If you tried to pull him back outside onto the street, he’d buy you something for the hell of it.

You know him. So, you decide to use that to your advantage.

“Gucci…I dunno…” you muse, squinting at him.

“Not your thing?” he asks, and he seems curious, but – you know him. You know that behind that polite mask is a smirk thick enough to make your knees wobble. He knows what you’re doing. “Where to, angel?”

You lead him out of the store. Feel his shadow behind you, watching as you thank the doorman and take a left around the corner, passing under the shade of the gently rustling trees. Arm in arm, you arrive before a huge archway, pristine windows surrounding the door to…

“Dolce & Gabbana…” Joel looks up at the stone writing atop the arch. “Alright. Classy girl.”

You giggle, pulling him past the wrought-iron fence and inside.

It’s sleeker, moodier. Less in your face. Suits you a bit better, though you can’t quite swallow back the guilt that sticks in your throat as you saunter around, Joel right behind you. It catches you when an assistant touches your arm, snapping you out of your daze, and asks if you need anything.

“No, thank you,” you reply, mirroring her smile. “Thank you.”

She nods and floats off.

Joel’s frame shells around yours, dipping his jaw to lean against your shoulder. “What about that one?” His eyes flit up to a mannequin just past a lit table of purses.

“The black one?”

“Mhm.”

“You like that?”

He repeats, a little more exaggerated: “Mhm.”

You shrug. “I do look good in black.”

“Look better in nothin’.” Joel steps forward and takes the tag between two delicate fingers, deliberately hiding it from you. He turns back, lifts his eyebrows in question. “Buy you it if you promise to wear it tonight.”

You smile. This man knows how to barter. And you take no convincing at all.

“Alright,” you accept, “deal.”

----------

Three hours later, you’re strolling down another cobbled street with an ice cream in your hand. And not much else, by the way. Joel’s taken all the shopping bags back to the hotel. He slapped your hand away when you tried to lift one of them from his clutches.

The wind sifts gently through your hair, cooling your face and neck, toying with the hem of the oversized shirt you’re wearing. It flutters the French flags overhead, red, white and blue blowing in the breeze. Cars roll by, engines humming as they weave in and out between one another, horns calling out in the distance.

Joel hadn’t let you come up to the counter to pay with him, had insisted you stay right where you were standing, and when he finished up and laced his fingers through yours, it was like a surge of energy had shot through him.

He led you out of the store and into another, and another, and another…until his hands were wrapped around, what, six bags? All carrying different components of your outfit for tonight.

And then he’d noticed the time – unlocked his phone with a curse under his breath, and kissed your temple. Midday. He was meeting Jean-Marc in an hour.

“You wanna come back with me? Chill at the hotel?” he’d asked, dialing his chauffeur’s number.

“I’m good,” you said, smiling sweetly as he squeezed your shoulder. Then, he pulled his wallet from his back pocket and handed you his card.

“’case you see anything else you want.”

“Joel,” you protested, but he’d shut you up by clicking his teeth and walking off, leaving you to follow after him, shamelessly beaming.

He’d apologized another three times before Denis had pulled up, then once more as he loaded the trunk with your bags.

“See you later. Enjoy your meeting,” you teased, laughing at the way his face twisted into a grimace as the car rolled off.

It’d been a pretty nice afternoon. You’d dipped into a couple more stores – though, without Joel to impress, the low-cut dresses and short miniskirts were somewhat less exciting.

That is, until you passed by a lingerie store. You stood outside for a second, peering by your reflection in the window to study what lay behind. Suddenly lace and satin – and the idea of Joel seeing you in them – seemed a lot more enticing.

You’d pieced together an entire getup: bra, panties, garter belt, even a pair of stockings, and a silk robe to go over the top. You handed over Joel’s card, ignoring the way your cheeks began to heat and focusing instead on how smug you felt, and skipped out of the store, bag in hand.

You’d called Denis five minutes ago to ask for a ride back to the hotel. He called you Madame, he said Nonono every time you apologized for bothering him again, and he promised he’d be there in less than ten minutes.

You pace back and forth along the curb, waiting for the shiny black Maybach to pull up. You’ve checked your phone, like, five times already, kinda hoping there’ll be a text from Joel. You swing the bag between your fingers.

A door swings open behind you, giggles filter out into the street, and you turn to see a couple bounding out of a jewelers, hand in hand. She flicks her left wrist up, tilts it in the sun. It’s hard to ignore the light bouncing off of her ring finger. You feel nauseous at the sight.

Suddenly the Parisian street dissolves, and what sweeps over in replacement is a long, empty lawn, maple trees swaying menacingly in the distance. There’s a blur of bright blue sky, sunrays bursting across your vision. Your hand comes up to shield your eyes, and there he is. There he was.

He was on the grass. You told him to stand up; his suit trousers would be stained green. He did it anyway. Trembling hands, expectant stare. You stuttered and stammered your way through a sentence fueled by shock and horror and…resentment.

And then you did it anyway, too.

The crackle of tires coming to a stop on the road in front drags your fraught gaze from the couple, now strutting off down the avenue. You reach for the door handle, but Denis is already out of the car and leaning down, hand on your back as you duck into the backseat.

----------

taglist: @nobodycanseeinsidemysoul @@isimpforfictionalmen @lizzie-cakes @sarahhxx03 @tobuildahomeinthewoods @whatsliferightnow @regalwhovianbrowncoat774 @casa-boiardi @earthtogrogu @sexygaypalpatine @cool-iguana @serenaxpedro @brittmb115 @pattwtf @pascalpvnk @jediknightjana @mrsquill @uncassettodiricordi @gracieispunk @hellishjoel

(lmk if i’ve missed you out & check my taglist info for how to be added!)

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flowerandblood · 5 months

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The Man with the Cold Lips

[ Amor • Aemond x Psyche • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, oral sex, fingering, smut, angst, domination, violence, trauma, mourning ]

[ description: After she is attacked in a fair by a strange man and narrowly avoids death, her father the king decides that from now on she will be watched over by one of his ‘ghosts’, a assassin acting on his orders, wearing a black mask. The man follows her like a shadow, accompanied by their past, which keeps her awake at night. Gothic horror love story, angst, sexual tension, very dark Aemond. ]

This story is several requests combined into one: sworn protector x female; Amor x Psyche; Phantom of the Opera! Aemond x female. I took the liberty of creating a completely new story from this, having only elements of each of these requests.

Series & Characters Moodboard Lady Walford Moodboard Gothic & Horror Sensual Moodboard

Yesterday's trailer and the panel with ewan did something to me, so I think that dark aemond is the most appropriate thing I can give you today and that's it. It begins!

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Although she knew it was dangerous, after what had happened she forbade telling the King about what she had discovered. Some part of her hoped that Prince Aemond was alive − she was willing to help him regain the throne if only he would agree to spare her brother's life.

She spent the rest of the day alone in her chamber, covered in thick furs, thinking hard about what had happened.

About Vhagar.

He told her she knew his name, so he must have been someone she had seen on a daily basis before. Her discovery frightened him enough that he was willing to kill her − however, did he really want to do it out of fear of her father's wrath and the fact that he would lose his position, or was it something else?

She bit her lower lip at the thought that a part of her suspected she might be working with the Prince, to be his liaison, a devoted servant who by some miracle had managed to get into her father-king's closest guard.

He gave up the idea of murder because he knew that even if he had faked her suicide − the King would have blamed him for not watching over her and he would have lost everything, so he came up with another excuse, hiding himself behind sheer terror, hoping that she would believe him.

However, what purpose did what happened between them afterwards?

She pressed her lips together, feeling the heat in her body at the memory of that overwhelming feeling of fulfilment, that wonderful tickling and tension rising in her lower abdomen with each of his thrusts.

She placed her hand on her womb, swallowing hard at the thought that he had come inside her, that she could expect a child because of his seed.

She squeezed her eyelids shut, trying to breathe calmly, thinking only of how much better it would have been if he had let her die that night.

Her father had demanded, despite her objections, that she join the funeral feast in her mother's honour, so she walked reluctantly down to the great hall, her ghost following her at a greater distance than usual.

She thought that he himself was horrified by what had happened between them and the consequences that might follow.

She sat down at the table next to her brother, her father smiled at her and she reciprocated the gesture, thinking with amusement about how easy it was for her to pretend.

"There she is, my daughter. My treasure, my greatest support." He said with a pride from which her throat squeezed.

Only a few years ago she would have believed his words.

She felt him grasp her hand and she reciprocated the embrace, stroking his skin with her thumb.

"She's no longer a child and I've decided it's time to find her a suitable candidate for a husband." He said lightly, she felt her heart stop, the smile disappeared from her lips, on her face only pain mixed with disbelief.

They were at a feast dedicated to the funeral of her mother, his queen, and he was discussing her marriage.

"I ask that willing lords report to me on this matter." He said contentedly, letting go of her hand, and she closed her eyes, trying to calm herself.

She felt him standing behind her, felt his menacing, dark aura, and wondered what he was thinking.

If he imagined her lying in bed with another man, letting him sink deep between her thighs.

She left the feast quickly that evening, explaining to her father that she was tired, which he accepted with understanding. When she stepped into her chamber her servants helped her to pull off her mourning gown, once again offering her condolences, blowing out all the candles one by one.

She lay comfortably under the thick layers of furs, looking out the window at the cloudless sky full of stars, thinking about what had happened, unable to believe that by some miracle she was still alive.

As she began to slowly fall asleep she shuddered suddenly; she heard the door to her chamber open − Vhagar stepped inside without a word and closed it quietly behind him.

She watched with a rapidly pounding heart as, with an unhurried, lazy step, he approached her windows, untied the curtains and covered the only source of light with them, repeating this act until complete darkness fell around them.

She could see nothing but blackness.

She heard the sound of steel hinges opening, then the sound of a belt being unbuckled and the rustling of robes falling to the floor.

She lay still, her lips parted in horror and disbelief, felt once again this familiar, throbbing sensation between her thighs and embarrassing, sticky wetness.

She listened to his footsteps, the old wood creaking under his feet as he finally climbed onto her bed, she heard it bend under his weight.

She felt the touch of his big hand on her cheek and trembled, taking a deep breath, realising he wasn't wearing gloves, his warm breath wrapped around her face.

She tightened her hands on his bare, muscular shoulders as his fingers slipped into the ties of her nightgown and just ripped them open − she squealed when she heard the sound of the fabric being torn and a cool breeze surrounded her flesh.

"− I won't stop −" He said in a trembling, deep voice, so startlingly clear that shivers ran through her, her mouth parted wide in a helpless moan when she realised he wasn't wearing a mask.

She squealed loudly, her body arching all over, her hands clenched in his hair when she felt it, his cold, wet mouth clamped down on her warm breast, playing with her nipple, sucking and licking it, the spot between her thighs throbbing with pleasure and desire.

"− oh − oh, gods −" She mumbled out, never having felt anything like it in her life, his hands ripped her chemise off her and only then did she feel his whole naked body pressed against her skin − it was such an overpowering, shocking sensation that she was out of breath.

She wanted to enjoy every second of what was happening, his lips teasing her nipple with a loud click, clearly taking great pleasure from it, his hands tightened on her hips, forcing her to spread her thighs wider in front of him, her fingers stroking his hair − she thought with a trembling heart that they were unexpectedly soft and long.

"− we can't −" She choked out with an effort, wanting to retain the remnants of her sober thinking and decency.

He, however, only chuckled under his breath, amused, his hand from her hip slid down between her thighs − she whimpered loudly as his fingertips ran over her heat, collecting the moisture that had already managed to flow out of her, oversensitive and delicate.

"− should I leave you like this? − I'm not that cruel −" He hummed under his breath with a kind of excitement from which she quivered all over. She heard him raise himself higher on his elbow, his nose ran over her cheek − she gasped as she felt his fingers begin to apply more pressure, in sure, circular motions teasing the bud hidden between her folds.

All she could think about was that he wasn't wearing a mask, her hand rised involuntarily to touch his cheek.

"Tsk-tsk." He hissed as he caught her wrist − his tongue ran over her upper lip as his middle finger made its way inside her, searching with it for the spot he had rubbed earlier with his length. "Don't."

She mewled with delight and her body shook with a shiver of pleasure when he finally found it, her hips responded to his touch with desperate rocking, her mouth parted invitingly, letting his tongue deep into her throat, their lips joined in a sticky, loud, hot kiss.

She panted loudly along with him, stroking his hair as she felt him slide his finger out of her, impatient, his lips sucking and brushing her fleshy skin again and again as the tip of his manhood pushed against her swollen slit, thrusting forcefully inside her.

She clasped her hands on his bare back feeling the scars beneath them and cried quietly into his mouth, trying with difficulty to fit him inside her − he throbbed all over in arousal, her breasts pressed against his chest in the tight embrace of their bodies.

They both started to moan between loud, wet kisses as he began to root into her hot core − this time she was so wet that a few pushes of his hips were enough for him to begin slipping into her with ease.

"− mmm − that's it − so fucking good −" He panted into her mouth, gripping her hips tightly with his hands, stretching her tight walls with his length with every movement of his hips.

She moaned helplessly beneath him, stroking his hair, neck, shoulders and back, all sweaty from exertion, their lips finding each other in messy kisses over and over again.

"− fuck − do you really think I'm going to share what's mine? − that I would allow some mere, petty lord take you? − hm? −" He hissed out and she felt her walls clench tightly on him at his words in pleasure, heat surged through her lower abdomen from which her head completely spun, her helpless whimpering answered him.

"− p-please − I − ughmm −" She babbled, unable to focus on anything other than how he slammed his manhood into her, how wonderfully it teased the spot hidden in her walls.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, wanting to feel him closer, tightening her fingers on his back − she heard him groan low feeling it, speeding up, thrusting into her like crazy.

"− you want it, don't you? − my seed − deep, deep inside you − fuck, say it −" He breathed out between quick, deep, brutal thrusts − she felt him looking at her, felt his hot breath on her face, his forehead pressed against hers.

"− y-yes − please − fill me, fill me, fill me −" She mewled, both of them moaning loudly as a powerful orgasm shook her body, her core began to clench against him, forcing him to let go, his length twitching all over as his semen spilled deep inside her.

"− good gods, yes, take it −" He exhaled in delight, his thrusts sloppy and desperate, pushing his seed as deep into her as possible.

"− you're mine − I'm going to fill you every night − gods, you're going to bear me so many children −" He gasped in bliss, slowly coming down from his peak, the whimpers of pleasure coming out of her lips at his words − she wasn't sure she'd ever experienced anything like this in her life.

"− please −" She mumbled quietly like a helpless child, running her hands over his naked skin, wanting to remember that wonderful feeling − they were both hot and sweaty with pleasure, their bodies sticking to each other, her breasts pressed against his bare chest.

They both sighed when he finally fell on top of her, embracing her, their fingers sinking into each other's bodies, wanting to feel each other as much as possible, though she wasn't sure if two people could connect in any physical way more than they did now.

She could feel his loud, raspy breath against her cheek, the tip of his nose running over her hot skin, as if he wanted to check that it wasn't all just the result of his imagination.

"− stay − stay inside me −" She whispered, and he sighed quietly, as if relieved, with a gentle movement of his hips sliding his already half-soft manhood fully into her, hiding himself deep inside her.

Even though she knew it was wrong and irresponsible, that she couldn't trust him, that he was a traitor, she had never felt safer with anyone before, her eyelids closing involuntarily, having not experienced a peaceful sleep for so long.

"− don't open your eyes until I leave −" He whispered in her ear and she nodded, stroking his soft hair, her lungs filled with his scent, male sweat, steel, dust and fire.

His arms held her in a tight embrace through this night and many nights to come, making the days blend into one for her.

Each time he came to her he would cover the windows with curtains so that she could see nothing, and then sink his lips and tongue into the warmth between her thighs, groaning in delight as he felt how much of her moisture flowed out of her, only to end up rooting deep into her, as he promised, filling her with his seed.

He always rose before dawn − she could see through her closed eyelids that the first rays of light were sneaking into her chamber despite the curtains, that if she opened them she could see his face.

She feared, however, what she would see.

All she could think about all day was the night, what he brought to her along with the brutal, deep thrusts of his hips.

When he took her, he would say that he was her husband, that only he had the right to touch her, that she would only bear his children.

She was his.

He used to show this to her by standing closer than usual when she was eating or reading, by no longer leaving when she was taking a bath or changing, staring at her shamelessly, promising her servants in her presence that if they said anything to the King, he would end their lives.

"Vhagar doesn't mean it and he would never hurt you against my will. Am I right?" She asked coldly, frowning at him as the terrified girl tried to attach the long sleeves to her gown with trembling hands.

"Mmm."

When they were alone he would dare to approach her from behind as she sit, his leather-gloved hand running over her throat only to grasp her cheeks tightly and lift her face up, forcing her to look at him.

She stared into his eyes obscured by the dark material, at his mask, indifferent, cold, mocking, his thumb gently massaging her skin.

He didn't need to say anything − she could feel the tension between them quivering in the air, making her feel a throbbing inside her.

"Tonight I'm going to make use of those lips." He hummed softly, parting her lips with his finger − she closed her eyes, feeling that she couldn't last, her hand lifted swiftly the thick layers of her gown and slid deep between her thighs, sinking into her moist warmth.

He sighed quietly, looking down at it, clearly taking satisfaction from the fact that his mere presence made her unable to bear it, that she needed to relieve herself.

"− do you want it so badly? − me fucking those moist, sweet lips? − hm? −" He cooed, and she only whimpered, tilting her head back, resting it against his stomach, with a loud, embarrassing click rising and falling on her fingers, teasing her pearl at the same time, feeling her nipples grow hard with arousal.

"− please −" She mumbled, although she didn't know what she was asking for, they couldn't do it now − they had to wait until night fell, like every day.

"− you look wonderful like this −" He murmured, stroking her cheek with his thumb, his voice trembling slightly − she knew that he was already completely hard, that he was dying at the thought of being deep inside her at night. "− so devoted −"

She mewled at his words and felt him clamp his hand over her mouth, stifling her moans that escaped her throat as she reached her peak − she felt her walls clench hungrily on her fingers, wonderful waves of heat surged through her body again and again. She heard him gasp with satisfaction as he saw her body spilling in front of him on the chair.

"− mine −"

That night as they lay in complete darkness, both of them falling asleep, his nose snuggled into the hollow of her neck, his soft manhood deep inside her, she dared to ask him the question that had long been pressing against her tongue.

"Are you Prince Aemond's envoy?"

Her question hung in the air as if in the void; she felt his body freeze − for a moment he did not breathe, his fingers tightened on her soft skin.

Silence.

Long, cruel, cold.

"Yes."

She swallowed loudly, a shudder went through her at his words. He felt it and leaned in, placing a soft, warm kiss on her shoulder, his fingers squeezing her breast with affection.

"I want to help him. Can you convey this to him?" She asked in a whisper and felt him flinch all over, letting the air out of his lungs in disbelief − she felt him lift a little, his hot breath on her cheek.

"What do you mean?" He asked in a trembling, low, deep voice, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. She pressed her lips together feeling her heart pounding like mad.

"I will support him if he spares my little brother. If he agrees, I'll do whatever he wants." She said in pain, feeling a squeeze in her throat − his lips pressed quickly against her skin, greedily, violently, kissing and sucking her, his length throbbing hard inside her.

He began to move again, slowly rooting into her with a sigh of delight and relief, saying no more until they reached their peak together, panting loudly, their bodies heated and quivering with exertion.

"− be patient −" He whispered in her ear with such tenderness that she felt her heart squeeze, heat spilling over her lower abdomen. "− soon − I promise you, we'll be married soon −"

After what he said, she fell asleep filled with hope, with the fact that she wanted to believe his words, that he would really protect her, that perhaps a great bloodshed could be avoided this time.

That they would really get married.

She thought that now, that everything had come together in her mind, she could finally look at him − her future husband, the man who had taken her for himself, who brutally and indivisibly stormed into her heart.

That was why, even though she had sworn to him that she would not do so, hearing him get dressed in a hurry she lifted her eyelids.

She felt her heart freeze, her throat squeezed so tightly that she couldn't catch her breath.

He sensed something was wrong, subconsciously realised she had broken her promise and lifted his gaze to her, his hands clenched on the belt of his coat.

A large scar ran across his right cheek, in his eye socket not a blue iris, as it seemed to her when she looked at him through the thin black material, but a sapphire, glinting dangerously in the first rays of the sun, his lips clenched into a thin line, in his healthy eye pain, disappointment and anger.

"You shouldn't have done that."

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes

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villainsandvictimsalliance · 7 days

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The potential of Dabi and Tomura's dynamic hasn't been completely explored before.

Dabi KNOWS what nomus are made of. He was this close 👌🏼 to becoming one. Yet, he doesn't act like Tomura himself is a monster for using them. There's a possibility Dabi knows more about them than Tomura himself. If not, Dabi knows Tomura knows and he doesn't hate him for it. What even went through his mind when Tomura gave him a nomu that answered to Dabi alone??

Every time I think about Dabi, I ponder just how much he has pieced together about Tomura.

I love that at some point Dabi dared to tell Hawks that Tomura wasn't the real problem— he (Dabi) was. Did he think he was worse than Tomura? Did he think Tomura was being used, but deep inside he was better/more heroic than Dabi himself?

What compelled Dabi to follow Tomura???

Dabi is a genius in his own right. He figured out that Spinner felt like an empty cosplayer before anyone else, he figured out Hawks when no one else could, knew where Toga would go before the final battle and waited there for her... Dabi sees so much, knows so much, he pays so much attention to every detail around him.

I'm obsessed with those panels of Dabi almost laughing at AFO's face, because he knew what the potato man was trying to do. AFO knew that Dabi wouldn't let him manipulate him.

And you're telling me that that Dabi couldn't see what was wrong with Tomura or at least expected in a general sense that something else would have to be revealed later?

Meanwhile, Tomura would allow Dabi to do as he pleased. He actually gave Dabi the control over the Vanguard Action Squad. Gave him a nomu. Dabi would go out "recruiting" and not bring a single soul, but Tomura never pressured him for it. Whenever Tomura wanted him there, Dabi would be there.

Dabi proved to understand Tomura's goal and feelings more than most when he explained them to Shouto. He proved to trust Tomura beyond a simple alliance, because even after Dabi's goal was almost guaranteed, he kept talking about the League of Villains and Tomura.

The level of knowledge Dabi has about Tomura's world drives me insane— and he chose to follow Tomura anyway? The puppet waiting to be used? Even after his goal was right in front of him, did he decide to justify the League? Try to make little Shouto understand?

Foaming at the mouth over it.

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #league of villains #lov #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #shigaraki tomura #dabi #touya todoroki #toya todoroki #tenko shimura #bnha manga spoilers

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akajustmerry · 26 days

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Can someone please explain this richonne van lore to me? I can't listen to the podcast you mentioned

oh, I will GLADLY. so season 7 episode 12 of The Walking Dead is called 'Say Yes' and is widely known as the rick and michonne honeymoon episode by cast and fans alike. It aired in 2017.

For context, it's not a literal honeymoon but those are the vibes. it's the first episode dealing with their relationship properly after they first get together in season 6. Rick and Michonne hornily volunteer for a sneaky cheeky supply run to go retrieve supplies surrounded by a herd of Walkers.

Rick and Michonne are horny as fuck so the episode has lots of them kissing and so forth. now, the VAN SCENE™ is them in the back of the van they've been driving around making out very aggressively. it's as close as TWD can ever get to a sex scene where people are not having sex because TWD was a cable TV show. It's a very brief scene, less than 30 seconds but it's uhh VERY hot.

after the episode aired, Danai Gurira and Andrew Lincoln were asked about shooting these scenes on a panel (I can't find a link but if I do I'll put it here/if anyone has one lmk). both of them mention that, while shooting the van scene, there was a take where they got so "carried away" the footage would never be released. the director of the episode also joked he keeps the footage locked up. None of them ever really said what was in the footage but....well, we're all adults and we can all have a guess. and that's all we could do.... UNTIL NOW.

So, there's a podcast called Richonne Revelry, hosted by some huge fans of TWD. In an episode they released earlier this year about the trailer for The Ones Who Live, one of the hosts mentioned that they met, TWD director Greg Nicotero. Nicotero directed 'Say Yes' and so the podcast host says that she asked Nicotero to tell her about the van scene shoot.

ACCORDING TO HER, Nicotero spilled the beans. Apparently, they just set up the gear in the van with no crew as a closed set and told Danai Gurira and Andrew Lincoln they could just do their thing, which is pretty standard for scenes like that. BUT, according to the host of this podcast, Nicotero said that when his crew got the footage, it was wayyyyyy too raunchy (she says he told her danai was topless for most of it) and danai and andrew were making out so uh.....intensely that the footage couldn't even be spliced to make it appropriate for the show. Danai and Andrew, apparently, were very shocked they had to reshoot because they were actually really happy with it, but Nicotero insisted they do it again and rein it in so they could have some usable footage. The version of the scene we see in the show is the "tame" reshot version, allegedly.

All of this is alleged, of course. A lot of people joke like it's a sex tape, but honestly nudity guidelines for commercial TV are so strict and specific it doesn't take much for any intimate footage to become unusable. Plus, unsimulated sex is a hugeeee no no in mainstream entertainment. Productions get crucified over it. so if that had happened we absolutely would not have heard about it, let alone hear actors joking about it for years. But anyways, that's the lore! One thing we can all agree on is that Danai Gurira and Andrew Lincoln are DEDICATED to their craft, by all reports lmao. personally, I'm just glad to hear a behind the scenes story about actors getting carried away in the moment which DOESN'T involve anyone getting hurt or mistreated 🥰

#richonne #andrew lincoln #danai gurira #the walking dead #and imo they're so valid for all of that <333 #also ppl thinking they having some type of affair when they're actually just theatre trained so they're insane theatre kids #twd van lore

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downthe-f4ndom-rabbith0le · 8 days

Text

Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader) - Chapter 3

Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader) Reader Insert: she/her pronouns Word Count: 2627 Warnings: death, violence, fighting, bloody wounds, angst, infuriatingly oblivious love interest, slowburn Spoilers: Young Justice Seasons 1-3 plot partially, but it ended in 2022 so catch up.

Y/N Prince - miracle daughter of Wonder Woman and Steve Trevor - and Dick Grayson - first adoptive son of the Batman himself - have been best friends since day one. They went to school together, trained together, kept each other's alter ego secret from everyone else, and they founded the Young Justice alongside their friends together.

But as time progressed, Y/N and Dick grew up and Y/N found herself wanting more than friendship with Dick. But he never seemed to indicate that he reciprocated her feelings. And when Wally died and Dick abandoned the team, Y/N realised he never would. So she heads to the one place she knows will help her become a stronger warrior so that one day she can take her mother's place: Themyscira.

Two years after his leave, Dick reaches out to his old friends to help him with a mission. But when he finds out Y/N left too, he chases after her in the hopes to bring her back.

However, when the two finally reunite, it isn't as warm as he hopes. Not to mention Themyscira becomes under siege as they go to war against Echidna, the Mother of Monsters in Greek Mythology, and her army of monstrous children.

Will Dick and Y/N be able to put their past behind them and save the Amazons' homeland? Or will they fall, unable to tell one another their true feelings?

~~~

'You are five miles from the estimated target, Master Dick,' Alfred said over the intercom of the Bat Wing.

Immediately upon entering Wayne Manor, Dick had rushed to his childhood room - the one he still used on the occasion he worked with Bruce as the Dynamic Duo, or he needed some space from his duties as Bludhaven's hero - and packed a small duffle of clothes and weapons and ran straight for the Bat Cave. As promised, Alfred had the Bat Wing waiting, ready for take off, and Dick barely greeted the old man before leaving Gotham far behind.

Dick had been flying for almost twelve hours and hadn't slept a wink. Sitting at the control panel with only a wide window of open sea to look at, Dick rubbed his tired eyes as the shadows of sleep flickered in the corners of his vision. He had to stay awake, just a little bit longer at least.

And then... Well, he'd cross that bridge when he got to it.

'Is there anything else you need from me, Master Dick?' Alfred asked.

Dick shook his head initially, then remembered Alfred couldn't see him. 'No, thank you, Alfred,' Dick replied, sitting up straighter in his seat. 'I should be fine from here on out.'

It was quiet for a moment, and Dick thought Alfred had signed off accidentally. But then he spoke. 'Are you sure there is something out here? I know you and your friends' findings seem well-supported, but there is only open ocean. There isn't even an under water volcano or ancient mountain range recorded there.'

'Which makes it an even more suspicious place,' Dick countered. 'Trust me Alfred, there is something out here.'

'Let's just hope Miss Y/N is too, or you'll have wasted Master Bruce's fuel. And I will tell you now, he will not be pleased about that.'

The mention of her name caused Dick's heart rate to increase with anxiety. But he quickly recovered as he scoffed. 'I don't know why he's complaining,' Dick said nonchalantly. 'He's the billionaire of the family, after all.'

'Have you seen the price of fuel these days?'

That caused Dick to chuckle slightly, just imagining the singular raised eyebrow Alfred used to ask the silent question of Are you serious? In that moment, he was once again grateful for Alfred. He barely asked any questions as to why Dick needed the Bat Wing, he just trusted Dick that it was for a good reason. Unlike Bruce, where trust needed to be hard earned, Alfred had always given his trust and love unconditionally.

The Bat Wing suddenly jerked as it seemed to hit something. Or, maybe, something hit it.

'Master Dick, what was that?" Alfred asked, worry lacing his words.

Suddenly alert, Dick brought up the different cameras hidden in the ship to try and find what had cause the sudden shift, but sound nothing.

'I'm not sure, Alfred,' Dick answered, running diagnostics over the ship in case of damage. 'There seems to be no damage to the Bat Wing, and there is nothing on the radar indicating another ship or flying creature of sorts.'

The ship rocked again, and Dick gripped tighter to the control handles as he took the ship off autopilot. 'What in the world!'

'Master Di-,' Alfred said, but his words were glitchy and some parts were coming through slowly. 'A-re yo- all rig-' Alfred was cut off before he could finish.

'Alfred? Alfred,' Dick called, but he got no reply. He slammed the control handles in frustration. 'Damnit.' He was on his own now.

However, his annoyance dissipated at the site he'd only ever seen in books he'd borrowed from Y/N when they were children.

To say Themyscira stood atop a mountain would be an inaccurate description. It was more like Themyscira was the mountain, with a long staircase weaving and winding up the entire mountain from the ivory beach and cerulean waters at the base of it. There were small stone huts with woven roofs closer to the beach, but quickly evolved into larger houses and buildings of impressive white columns and marble. As Dick flew closer to the island, he spotted a large coliseum used for sports and physical trials like the ruins in Greece, and a small amphitheatre next door that no doubt was used for the arts.

Atop Themyscira's mountain could only be the royal palace, held up by intricately carved statues of women and marble columns, decorated in plates of gold and held together by green grape vines that covered the palace walls, the statues, the columns.

The bed time stories he'd heard from Wonder Woman when he and Y/N would have sleepovers was more than his imagination could ever conceptualise, and the few descriptions and drawings of the island in the books he'd read were amateur attempts that held no candle to the real deal.

It was, in a word, paradise.

I must've hit the invisible barrier before, Dick deduced as he took in the sight of it all. That's why communications were knocked. That's why he'd felt so anxious and tired the closer he got. Now that he'd passed through, he felt ten times better.

A beeping pulled Dick out his trance, drawing his attention to the radar. Something was coming at him. Fast.

Dick looked up in time to see a large fire ball flying at him and barely dodged it. It was so hot Dick felt its heat through the window as it scraped by.

'Woah!' Dick cried, angling the Bat Wing so Dick could see where the fireball had come from. And, more importantly, who had thrown it. Down on the ivory beach was a line of catapults set up Dick hadn't spotted before, and he could just make out an army milling about around each catapult as they reloaded the catapults.

Before he knew it, he was swerving as another fireball flew at him, this time catching part of the left wing and melting it. Sirens blared, indicating the damage, but Dick didn't have time to worry about that. The Amazons thought he was a threat. He needed to change that, or he'd be a goner.

Crazy an idea as it was, Dick manoeuvred through the line of fireballs the Amazons catapulted at him towards the beach. Once he was close enough, he turned on the speaker so the outside world could hear him. 'Please, Amazons of Themyscira, I mean you no harm,' Dick announced to them, hoping he sounded genuine. 'I am going to land my aircraft on your shore. I just want to ta-'

He didn't have time as a small boulder connected with the left wing, sending the Bat Wing into a spin that Dick couldn't control. Sirens blared in the cockpit, reds light flashed and his front window lit up with the message SYSTEM FAILURE in bright red letters. The steering was shot, his vision was impaired, so Dick just closed his eyes and braced for impact.

The Bat Wing hit the beach hard, knocking the wind out of Dick for a moment. Once he'd regained his breath and the world had stopped spinning, Dick checked his immediate surroundings. He was in one piece still, and the Bat Wing hadn't exploded. Good start.

Before he could unplug himself, a spearhead stabbed through the glass of the front window, shattering it completely as the Amazon wielding it pulled it out. Dick was temporarily blinded by the sudden invasion of sunlight to his senses, but he still put his hands up in surrender in case they still thought him a threat.

'Please,' he begged through laboured breaths. 'Please, I don't mean you any harm. I just need to talk with someone you might know. Please.'

'Síko órthios, pareísaktes,' a strong voice hissed above him, her words whipping out like a delicate snake. She yanked him from his seat, breaking the seatbelt as she did, and threw him onto white, hot sand.

Vision coming back ever so slowly, Dick saw more figures approaching where he laid on the beach, spears and swords and shields in hand. All women, and all wearing brown leather skirts, sandals, and breast plates and bronze helmets of the ancient greeks. A small crowd formed around him, leaving no room for escape.

Realising this, Dick hauled himself to his feet and spun around to survey the group with his hands raised. The women ranged from youthful to mature, but all of them looked capable of killing him should he dare run. Capable, and willing.

'Poios eísai esý?' a woman with long brunette hair asked. She looked slightly older than him, perhaps mid to late 20s. But knowing how old Wonder Woman had lived for already, Dick was almost sure all of the women surrounding him were much older than they appeared.

I really regret not taking those Greek classes with Y/N now, he thought to himself, not having a clue what the woman had asked him. When he didn't reply though, she repeated her question but with more annoyance and aggression, pointing her spear towards his chest.

'I am Dick Grayson,' he said, not sure if they could understand him or not. 'I mean you no harm. Please, I must talk with someone you know... Do you understand me?'

The blank faces he received in return were answer enough. The brunette turned to two other women beside her, whispering to one another. It only lasted a moment, for then the brunette raised her spear higher towards Dick's throat. The rest of the women also raised their weapons, all pointed at him.

'Ánthropos apó to exoterikó,' she announced for all to hear, her delivery final and true, 'edó tha petháneis!'

Just as she raised her spear, Dick threw his hands up again and cried, 'Y/N!'

He waited for pain, for the sensation of falling and then nothing, but it never came. The brunette paused, spear still raised above her, and looked at him curiously.

'Pós gnorízeis tin prinkípissá mas?' she asked, and to Dick's surprise, he recognised one word. Prinkipissá. Princess.

'Yes,' he said, seizing potentially his only chance at surviving. 'She would be your princess. Sorry, your prinkipissá. Daughter of your champion, Diana.'

At the mention of the mighty Wonder Women, the brunette lowered her weapon entirely and turned to the other women as quiet murmurs broke out amongst the group. Dick wasn't sure what he'd started, but he knew they knew of who he spoke of, and what power her name held. Not just anybody could wield her name.

'I came here to speak with Prinkipissá Y/N,' Dick continued, and then he put his hands together as if he were about to pray. 'Please, can you lead me to her? Is she even here?'

The brunette and her two friends looked him up and down for a moment before consulting one another one last time. After what felt like an eternity, the brunette stepped forward and looked him dead in the eyes.

'Piáste ton!' she cried, and two women grabbed both his arms, ensuring he couldn't escape. 'Tha ton páme stin prinkípissá mas.'

She then turned away, and Dick was lead by the arms after her and the rest of the crowd. He managed look over his shoulder to see the wreckage of the Bat Wing. The left wing was one metal sheet away from tearing off completely, and the shattered glass and the many dents in the side of the ship just added to Dick's dismay. Oh yeah, Bruce is going to be pissed.

If the Amazons let him live and he ever got off the island, Bruce would definitely make sure Dick suffered long and hard.

Dick was lead up hundreds and hundreds of steps, walking through the bustling city of women and young girls all going about their daily lives. For some reason, it was off putting to Dick to see women and children doing the washing or playing games in the open street. He wasn't sure why, but he envisioned the whole island as warrior women who all fought and died for each other and their home.

They could probably still whoop my ass, he thought as he was marched by some children who were previously playing a game with some dice and a ceramic cup before he came along and stole their attention. It came to Dick's mind that these young girls probably had never seen a male before, and so he smiled at them as kindly as he could. Some of the children smiled back, others had their mothers nearby collect them and take them inside. Dick couldn't blame them for it. Wouldn't he do the same for his child if the roles were reversed.

Why the hell am I thinking about children right now? he asked himself, but he didn't have time to ponder the question as they quickly walked up a final set of stairs into an open field of green covered in warrior women training. When the whole group stopped, Dick was brought to such a startling halt that he thought his arms were going to pop out of their sockets. Thank God for that, he thought, feeling his legs ache with all the climbing. Or is it Zeus I should thank? Maybe Hera? Athena?

The brunette raised her spear, and those not holding Dick prisoner did the same. 'Prinkipissá,' she called out above the din of all the sparring and training. 'Échoume kápoion gia esás.'

Dick wasn't sure who the brunette was talking to at first, but then his gaze settled on a group of women just ahead of them. It seemed it was a six-versus-one situation, as six women surrounded one young woman with familiar H/C hair. The six women ran at the young woman in the middle, all taking swings with their fists and swords, aiming for her head and legs and mid section. While the young woman took a few punches, she didn't flinch with pain. She would just grab her attacker's wrist and flip her over and slam her into the ground.

The fight only lasted a minute, and ended with the H/C haired pointing a sword at her final opponent's throat as she pressed her to the ground with her foot.

When she flipped her hair as she turned to face their group, only then did Dick fully realise who it was.

'Y/N!' he cried out, the brightest smile spreading across his face. Two years since he'd last seen her, his best friend. After the not-so-very-warm welcome, he was beyond relieved to see a familiar face.

But instead of reciprocating his smile with the one he'd always admired since they were children, Y/N paled as if she had seen a ghost. Her whole body seemed to freeze up as her eyes connected with Dick's, and for a moment Dick feared he had mistaken some poor girl for his best friend.

But her shock melted away, and Dick was met with angry eyes and a stony face. Oh, yeah. That's Y/N. He couldn't recall the amount of times he'd seen that expression before, but there was no mistaking it.

His fear turned towards himself as she suddenly, with sword still in hand, stormed towards him, ignoring the other women around her still training.

'Y/N, it's me Dick,' he said, just in case she hadn't recognised him, but still she came at him, raising the sword to her side. 'Wait, what are you doing?

As she stood a step from him, she changed her grip on the sword's hilt and swung the butt of it at his head.

'Hey! Don't-'

The last thing he saw were Y/N's angry eyes of E/C before pain exploded from his right temple and darkness overcame him.

~~~

Síko órthios, pareísaktes = On your feet, outsider

Poios eísai esý? = Who are you?

Ánthropos apó to exoterikó, edó tha petháneis! = Man from the outside, you will die here!

Pós gnorízeis tin prinkípissá mas? = How do you know our princess?

Piáste ton! = Grab him!

Tha ton páme stin prinkípissá mas = We shall take him to our princess

Échoume kápoion gia esás = We have someone for you

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

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kandavers · 8 months

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Doodle Dump!

Hello Kandavers Tumblr Nation! If you can't already tell, I've been absolutely BRAINROTTING over www-related content these past few days HEHE

I've been drawing a lot of his interactions with my Beloved Mutuals' OCs and I thought I'd post it here as a mass post because they're Too Silly and Goofy (and Doodly) AND I WOULD ALSO LIKE TO RAMBLE ABOUT IT PLEASE AND THANK YOU

(Warning! Some of them are mmmildlyyyy suggestive hehe) (As a Treat!)

Characters heads up: Will Wayward by Me! Starii by @dianacoreexe Valentine Hart by @chronnellian Mimix by @sleepyzuku Mori Moonlet by @kawaiialeisha

Here's Mimix, Will and Mori jamming together in their MWM Band (Outfits subject to change HAHA we never really got that far with the Designs save for Mimix (common sleepyzuku slay)):

(Adding a Keep Reading button so that the post won't be too Long!!)

And the slicked back hair WWW I drew just for the occasion:

I KNOW I HAVENT OFFICIALLY POSTED A PROPER WWW X MIMIX SHIP POST BUT I've mentioned before WWW and Mimix are in a relationship, and we have this running joke that Mori would occasionally be a third wheel in their relationship it's HILARIOUS !!!

(cw suggestive:)

And shy Mimix got me so weak HAHA:

It's so cute that Mimix can't handle intimacy that well, so Will always helps him take the initative aaa,,, DO YOU SEE WHAT I MEAN WHEN I SAY I'VE GOT BRAINWORMS

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"Out of everyone in this entire universe" (The first panel is by Diana themselves for context LMAO)

See, we both agreed that Will and Starii would be Adopted siblings! There's a little bit of lore to it, which is Starii is an Alien whose space ship crashed onto Earth when she was Smaller, and Will, being the Space Nerd (tm) he is, he offered to let her Stay with him while he fixed her ship! (And for context, Winnie is Will's biological sister that I have not designed nor planned yet !)

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This one is just so funny to me HAHAHA

(cw: suggestive)

But despite the erm... Physical Admiration 💀 Will has for Valentine, I offer you SOFT and WHOLESOME doodles and they make me SO VERY WEAK I AM SO SOFT FOR THEM ARGHHHH

And bonus kissy,,,,

When they say "I love you" while affectionately gazing at each other like that... ouuuu I think I will Pass Out /pos

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Bonus cute details:

Will used to have just 1 earring pierced on his Left Ear (if I recall correctly 💀 hashtag bad OC creator) but he went to get the other one pierced with Mimix

After meeting Starii, she gave him one of her earrings, so his Right Ear would always have a star-shaped earring! (Don't worry about consistency i literally forget all the time too LOL)

He has one of those succubus-looking tattoos on his tummy 😳😳 Solely because I think it's cute and ZESTY and it has 0 things to do with his character but thats okay. <3

And honestly shout out to All These Artists for feeding my delusions and brainrots at 2-3am even, with their ideas and headcanons too, they got me Giggling and Kicking my Feet and Everything WAAA

I REALLY LOVE HOW I AM ABLE TO CREATE THESE COOL AND MUSHY OC INTERACTIONS WITH THEM <3333 Honestly I love my mutuals so much they're so Amazing hehe

That's the Doodle Dump for Now! Thank you for reading this far and listening to my Deranged Rambles about them !

And last but not least, go follow my Mooties if You havent already 🫵🫵💥‼️‼️ I love You!!! /p

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tragedydenji · 3 months

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No joke all i need is the manga to include a panel of them sitting in an amusement park together eating crepes. I dont need explicit confirmation, just let them have their amusement park date and show it. PLEASE im on my knees.

#bkdk #bakudeku #ngl ive been going insane about them like im on a rollercoaster ride #im currently at the top and the track seems to be entering the sky #like if izuku came up with those examples about the idea of a boyfriend...#that shows he's done some thinking about boyfriends...relationships...bro has some things in his to-do list

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harrys-titties · 4 months

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Hi my loves! This is an update to this fic here, or “Harry’s a dick and Y/N hates him for it.” Let me know how you like it and thank you for the lovely anon who requested it!

-masterlist-

———-

Harry doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to this. It didn’t matter how long they had been dating or how many times he’d kissed Y/N or been inside her; it never got old. The feeling of Y/N’s desperate cunt squeezing him so tightly he sometimes worried the blood supply to his throbbing prick would stop or her whines and sobs that shook her whole body as Harry slammed into her. It was just something that brought Harry so much joy.

And really, today was no different. He could still feel Y/N as tight as ever around him, could still see her legs shake with each precise thrust into her squelching cunt, and he could still revel in the breathy moans she let out each time he pushed and ground that little bit deeper than usual.

The main difference, really, was that he could see her expression in the reflection of the elevator doors, the familiar clinch between her brows apparent and her cute mouth parted around moan after moan. He could see her as she tried desperately not to hit any of the buttons as Harry expertly pressed against her clit, settling for slamming her hand against the wall of the elevator next to her, her handprint leaving a little ring of condensation when she brought it down to hold Harry’s other hand currently on her waist.

Was it risky? Sure. But they could only spend so long trapped inside a small confined space together before something similar happened. It wasn’t Harry’s fault the elevator had broken down, leaving them suspended somewhere between the associates and the analyst’s floor. And it wasn’t Harry’s fault that Y/N had given him those fucking eyes she always seemed to have around him. Really, he was a victim in this scenario, and his vixen-like girlfriend was the perpetrator.

“Fuckin’ hell Harry, you’re gonna make me cum.” And well, maybe Harry wasn’t entirely blameless in this scenario. He leans over to kiss Y/N’s neck, instantly wishing they were somewhere more private so he could get her completely naked, feel the dip of her back pressed against his chest as he thrust into her. He’d just have to make do. Each push into her sent a gust of Y/N’s shampoo mixed with sweat towards him, the smell quelling his urge to feel Y/N’s skin against his own. He just loved her so much.

“C’mon baby. Let me feel it,” he mutters between ground teeth, the feeling of her squeezing around him just a little too good. She shakes her head, “more, I need more. Please Haz!” So he leans down, grabs her thigh and pulls, resting her foot against the bannister running the circumference of the lift. She whines as he pushes at her lower back, forcing her to arch it. The new angle is intense for both of them, Y/N’s groans increasing in pitch, and Harry feels the telltale tingles of an impending orgasm beginning in his groin. He pushes in at a slightly different angle, aiming to find her g-spot again now that their position has shifted. It’s obvious that he finds it when Y/N cries out, leaning down and resting her head against the panel of buttons, her hand grappling to find anything to hold on to and the buttons glowing golden as she pushes against them. He pushes in again and again, bringing his hand back down to her clit, rubbing in sloppy circles, giving her the most pleasure he can with the slightly awkward angle.

It doesn’t take long, Harry feeling the telltale shake of Y/N’s thighs, her hands reaching down to grab at his wrist neatly tucked between her thighs and squeezing as hard as she can. Harry’s not sure he’s ever heard her make this much noise, a sharp gasp followed by mindless babble, like every thought that came into her head was being pushed out with each movement of his hips. Her head falls back against her shoulders, and Harry watches in the reflection of the walls as her mouth falls open and her eyes roll backwards. “Fuck, fu- fuck! Harry, fucking hell. You feel so fucking good.”

It’s music to Harry’s ears, and it makes his orgasm approach even quicker. He feels the buildup starting in his groin, euphoria spreading outwards until all of his limbs feel weightless, and he waits for the fall, where he knows his orgasm will be ripped out of him.

“Wait, Harry wai- come in my mouth please.” Harry feels his whole body shudder. It takes everything in him to pull away from the warmth of Y/N’s pussy, a second longer, and he knows it would’ve been too late. He has his eyes closed but feels movement in front of him, and it’s only when he feels a small hand on his hip, right next to where his leaking cock is no doubt dripping, does he open them again. The sight in front of him is enough to make him come completely untouched, only having time to grab the head of his dick and press it against Y/N’s open mouth, the head bumping against her plump, spit-slicked lips. Y/N’s hair is completely messed up, half out of the ponytail it was tied in, flyaways in her face from turning around so quickly, her eyes rimmed with tears and rolling as she finally tastes Harry’s cum.

Once Harry’s orgasm starts to slow, he lets out a deep breath, small tremors making his legs shake as he rests his hand against the wall of the elevator behind Y/N. He almost faints when she flicks her tongue forward and around his head, humming as she tastes the tartness of her own cum smeared against it, mixing with the heady taste of the remaining drops of his seed. Harry whimpers, pulling her head away with a tight grip on what was left of her ponytail, letting out a groan at the way she fights against him to keep licking at him.

“Enough, sweetheart, you’re gonna kill me prematurely if ya keep it up.” She flashes him a sly grin, giving one more hearty lick before taking the hand he’s offering her, straightening her shirt and fixing her skirt that had become skewed in the process. “Who would I let fuck me in elevators if you were to cark it this early, hm?”

Harry lets out a breathy chuckle, tucking himself back into his pants and zipping up his fly before reaching out to her. He swipes a thumb against the corner of her mouth where a stray drop of cum had been left, bringing it back up to his own mouth and sucking the salty liquid off the pad, watching as Y/N’s hungry eyes follow the movement.

“Dunno, I’ll haunt whoever you choose anyway.” Y/N’s eyes dart back up to his, humour and love filling them as she laughs. They both startle as a resounding ding sounds through the elevator, the lift jumping and groaning as it begins to move again. They don’t have much time to recover before the doors open, and Y/N steps closer to him and grabs his hand instinctively.

Luckily, it’s Sarah and Mitch standing in front of them. Harry feels a rush of cool fresh air he hadn’t known he was missing until he felt it and watches as Sarah’s eyes dart back and forth, up and down, probably taking in their disheveled hair and clothes.

“Really, guys?” Sarah says as she rolls her eyes. Mitch steps into the elevator, his nose immediately scrunching as he quickly steps backwards. “It fuckin’ reeks of sex in there! Jesus Christ Harry!” Harry laughs while a mortified Y/N hides her face in Harry’s shoulder.

“We’ve been waiting for like fourty minutes!” Sarah whines.

Dramatic as ever, Mitch throws his hands up and turns on his heel.

“Nah fuck this, I’m takin’ the stairs.”

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry #harry styles smut #smut #enemies to lovers #enemies to friends to lovers ????

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i-like-big-robots · 3 months

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Post-war Megop but let's make it horny.

So, Megatron and Optimus sometimes have one offs time to time, usually when everybody else is busy so no one suspects that their leaders are fragging the daylights outta eachother. This continues and it turns softer, Megatron isn't as rough as before but will go all out when Optimus begs for it, when he wants to be treated like a whore. (This results in longer aftercare but neither minds)

At some point Optimus starts to feel off, his spark and chassis feel hot, he feels naseuos randomly, and his libido dries up and revives whenever. Of course he decides to ignore it because he doesn't want to disturb Ratchet since he's busy adjusting on the new cybertron. During a meeting however, he starts to get restless, he tries to ignore the ache between his legs but his valve just keeps sending pulses of pleasure through him whenever his thighs rub together. His proccesor is filled with thoughts of being pounded and..oh, he can't help but imaging being speared on Megatron's spike in front of everyone else, it surely would make the scene. Optimus's patience wears thin and he decides to comm his partner, Megatron opens it and let's out a small gasp at how descriptive Optimus was being, Soundwave asks him what's wrong and he waves off his concern. He takes a deep breath and from across the table he can see the most lust filled expression on his Prime.

:.Not now Optimus.: Megatron sends back, his spark is pounding in its casing and he tries his damn best to not shove him on the floor and take him right then and there.

:.But don't you want to mark me, make them see how much of a slut I am for you.: Optimus responds, and that was the last straw for Megatron. The rest of the occupants picked up on the tension and before they knew it the ex-warlord was pinning Optimus to the floor. With a growl he bit his neck making him in turn let out the most exquisite moan he's ever heard.

Shouts were heard as Optimus opened his panel and Megatron slid into his entrance with ease, the sounds of metal on metal reverberated through the room, Ultra Magnus, Soundwave, and Prowl exited it as they started to get louder. Jazz, Shockwave, and Ratchet stared, wether in disbelief or in arousal, it didn't matter. All that mattered was that Optimus was getting bred in front of them and Megatron felt pleased with himself. His valve spasmed around his spike and he sobbed as Megatron continued to thrust into him, every node was lit up and he whimpered as he felt his anterior node get brutally rubbed. It felt like hours to him but before he knew it Megatron was filling him up with his transfluid, some leaked out onto the floor below and a breathy sigh left him when he felt that thick length soften and exit him.

"Well what a show, damn, that was hot as pit." Jazz said with a smile. Ratchet looked downright horrified when they finished and dragged himself outta the room. "I need a drink", was heard when he left. "Interesting." Was all that Shockwave muttered as he wrote one last thing on his datapad and followed after Ratchet. "Take care of him!" Jazz exclaimed while he ran out to tell Prowl what he saw.

Optimus groggily stared up at him, his valve still clenching weakly and leaking so much transfluid and lubricant not even Megatron was sure how it all didn't somehow make his plating bulge.

"Are you alright?

"Yeeess.." Optimus slurred out before passing out in Megatron's arms.

______________________________________________

Turns out the reason for Optimus' sudden interface drive was caused by the little sparks he was carrying. Ratchet berated and lectured him but he couldn't care less, his thoughts drifted to his now official bondmate.

He had many requests for him to fulfill when he became all round and heavy with their kin.

#valveplug #optimus prime #megatron #megop #mechpreg #I've had this idea for a while and decided to give it out to the wolves #Not my best work but I'm tired and want to sleep #Bottom Optimus Supremacy

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in1-nutshell · 3 months

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Any mtmte (did I spell that right, I also want rodimus included in it) characters you want, I want to see the bots reaction to bot (gn) buddy that use (still is) to be megatrons sparkmate, and a gladiator before. 🫣 megatron and buddy still on good terms tho.

Okay... I had a bit too much fun with this one, so its a bit longer than what I usually do my writings. I used a different writing style than what I usually used too. If this isn't what you wanted, please let me know.

Hope you enjoy!

Bot Buddy being Megatron's sparkmate (its complicated) that was a former gladiator with Rodimus Prime, Nautica, and Ravage

SFW, Platonic, Romantic implications, Pre-war Cybertron and Post-war Cybertron mentioned, Cybertronain reader

MTMTE

Megatron had met Buddy while waiting for his next match.

The two had entered a nice conversation before Buddy was called off to their match. That wouldn’t be the last time they would meet each other.

Megatron met Buddy again in the infirmary after a particularly brutal match. Both gladiators had to stay in the med bay for the night. That night was filled with much talking and laughter.

That’s where everything began.

So, the two gladiators began sneaking off to go meet each other and secretly watch each other’s matches.

Despite the circumstances, they made it work.

“Buddy?”--Megatron

“Right here Megatron.”--Buddy

“Perfect timing as usual. How was today’s match?”--Megatron

“Same ol’. Same ol’. What about yours? I heard through the guards todays was particularly spectacular.”--Buddy

“I… showed the crowd my panels.”--Megatron

“You have panels?”--Buddy

“Yes, I know it—”--Megatron

“And you didn’t tell me?! Now you have to show me them!”--Buddy

“Hush! You’ll give away our position!”--Megatron

“And? What do you think the guard will do at this late hour? They’ll be too tired to do anything, plus our biolights are on low. The bot wouldn’t be able to see our faces before he’d see our pedes!”--Buddy

“You know what they would do Buddy. You shouldn’t be so careless.”--Megatron

“Yeah, but still, I bet we can take them together. Assuming you’d be by my side and not using me to give you a head start.”--Buddy

“I would stay by your side, you know that.”--Megatron

“I know. You’d start panicking and worrying if I wasn’t around anyways.”--Buddy

“Maybe I should leave you.”—Megatron

“Oh, Megs, you’ve wounded me!”—Buddy

“But in all seriousness, I would come to you if you’d call.”—Megatron

“…Thanks Megs…”—Buddy

“Don’t call me that.”—Megatron

“Nah.”--Buddy

Buddy was there for many of his major achievements in and outside the ring.

They cheered for him as he basked in the energon of his enemy after a win.

They helped him continue his writing after Terminus disappeared.

They even had the pleasure of meeting his inner circle for the new Decepticon movement he was starting.

“So, this is the infamous Decepticon circle I’ve been hearing about?”--Buddy

“And you are?”--Starscream

“Megatron’s friend. I am a gladiator as well.”--Buddy

“Just friend?”--Thundercracker

“Yes?”--Megatron

“Well just hearing how much you talk about them, we assumed—”--Skywarp

“Why don’t you introduce yourselves first.”--Megatron

“Hey is that-- Buddy!”--Frenzy

“Rumble! Frenzy! Ravage!”—Buddy

“Looking good Buddy.”--Rumble

“What—”--Megatron

“How’s is your arm wound from the fight?”--Ravage

“What arm—”--Megatron

“I thought the guards caught you, guess you gave them the slip huh.”--Frenzy

“Guards?”—Megatron

“Oh, you know me. I never get caught!”--Buddy

“How do you three know each other?”--Megatron

“We met after some drunk bots started fighting dirty with us. Buddy in and used some of their signature moves to gives all a head start. We got some drinks then we split when the guards started coming by the sector.”--Ravage

“Never gonna mess with ya after that display. Truly an artform.”--Frenzy

“It wasn’t that big of a deal.”--Buddy

“Yeah, tell that to the other guy’s servos.”--Rumble

“Wait what happened to—”--Megatron

“ANYWHO! The triplets over there are Starscream, Skywarp, and Thundercracker. Screamer’s the one in red, Warp is the purple one, and Cracker is the blue one.”--Frenzy

“Hello!”--Buddy

“Hi.”--Skywarp

“Buddy.”--Starscream

“Hello.”--Thundercracker

“The purple one over there is Shockwave.”--Frenzy

“Hello!”--Buddy

“Greetings.”--Shockwave

“Don’t take it personally, he doesn’t have his emotions anymore.”--Ravage

“Oh…”--Buddy

“And this is Soundwave!”--Rumble

“Hello!”--Buddy

“Hello.”--Soundwave

Through telepathy. “Really ‘just a friend’.”--Soundwave

Through telepathy. “First, WOW! This is amazing! Second, just give me a couple more cycles! I’m working up the courage… how often does he talk about me? Are they good things?”--Buddy

Through telepathy. “Too much its painful now. Please put us out of our misery.”--Soundwave

Through telepathy. “I hope so, if he does feel the same way.”--Buddy

Through telepathy. “He does, believe me. His thoughts if not thinking about this whole operation and his writings is you. Which is happening a lot more than usual these days.”—Soundwave

“Really?!”—Buddy

“You should hear the poems he thinks about you.”--Soundwave

“Umm… Boss? You’re not threatening Buddy are you?”--Rumble

“Negative. Simply having a chat.”--Soundwave

“Was it?”--Megatron

“It was. You seem to have a strong foundation, Megatron. And with all the followers that are going to come in, the Senate will have to hear you now!”--Buddy

“Hopefully.”--Megatron

“Don’t get so down in the dumps Megs! Have a little faith. A little faith never hurt anyone.”--Buddy

“…Maybe.”--Megatron

“See!”--Buddy

‘He is down bad for them.’—Soundwave and every Decepticon there.

Megatron was pleased to see Buddy get along with his colleagues.

A couple cycles pass he starts getting thoughts about the Conjux ritual. The bot that always comes into his processor is Buddy.

But would Buddy even want that?

What if they didn’t want that?

What if they just wanted to be friends or Amica?

After a few peptalks with Soundwave, he is ready. He believes he is ready to finally begin the first steps.

“Buddy.”--Megatron

“Hey Megs? You don’t usually come by this sector, you know there’s more guards at this time right?”--Buddy

“First of all, don’t call me that. Second, I know its… just meet me at the old oil house tonight.”--Megatron

“Tonight? What happened with next cycle? You already breaking tradition?”--Buddy

“Can you—”--Megatron

“I’m just messing with you Megs. I’ll be there.”--Buddy

“Be careful.”--Megatron

“Please Megs, I’ve never been caught, and I will not get caught. Don’t worry so much.”--Buddy

Everything was going to be all right.

Right?

That night, Buddy was an hour late.

Buddy was always a punctual bot, the most they had been late was a couple minutes late.

Worried, Megatron decided to take things into his own servos. He managed to sneak into their quarters the same route he had done multiple times before.

The entire place was stripped clean.

“Buddy? Buddy!”--Megatron

Silence.

“Buddy this isn’t funny. Come out!”--Megatron

Silence.

“Buddy?”--Megatron

He went to ask the bots in the next room, but no one was there.

The room was also stripped clean.

He went in a frenzy opening door finding the same thing in each one.

He would have been caught by the night guards, if it weren’t for Ravage and Soundwave.

They would later find out that the entire quarter of gladiators in that section had been relocated to another city. But the ship had been ‘accidentally’ taken down as soon as it took off near the city limits. It was clear as day that the ‘accident’ was planned, but no one would investigate a case of nameless gladiators.

There were no survivors.

“I am sorry Megatron. They are gone.”--Soundwave

“…”--Megatron

“Megatron?”--Ravage

“I need some time by myself now.”--Megatron

“…Ravage.”--Soundwave

“On it.”--Ravage

Ravage hadn’t felt such spark break than he had in that moment with Megatron. He and Soundwave had to break the news to the others when they got back to their makeshift base. There was a lot of shock and mourning that happened that night. Everyone tread carefully near Megatron as if he were a ticking time bomb.

Ravage stayed by his friends’ side for a good time before he was deemed fine once again.

Megatron was far from fine.

Megatron was near inconsolable at the beginning. He felt almost as helpless as when Terminus had disappeared. His old friend, Impactor, after hearing the news tried to get him out of this hole. He was lucky enough to get him out of his habsuite and back outside. He took him to Maccadams for a drink.

The rest went downhill from there.

Meanwhile Buddy had actually been transported to a different ship at the last second thanks to an error in the system that no one wanted to fix.

Buddy had been taken to one of the colony ships instead.

The ship set to go to Caminus.

While it was rough to adjust at first, especially after hearing what happened to their ship. Buddy quickly found some friends and began their new life on Caminus. They wanted to build a life on Caminus first and as soon as they got the chance, they would go back to Cybertron, grab Megatron and his friends and have them all live with them on Caminus.

Buddy met three bots named Chromia, Nautica, and Windblade. The three didn’t judge Buddy by their past and made it their goal to help Buddy adjust to Caminus the best they could.

Windblade would go more on the cultural and artistic facts about Caminus, a planet that made Cybertron seem very rough by comparison.

When Chromia found out about Buddy’s fighting career, she wanted to spar.

If it was okay with Buddy after all.

She was not disappointed with the new challenge.

She even managed to get Windblade to join in too.

Nautica was a bit intimidated by Buddy at first but quickly warmed up to them once she saw that Buddy wasn’t a bad bot.

Being the wall flower Nautica was, she didn’t offer buddy to go out in crowded places too often.

Instead, she indulged Buddy in her deep sea findings.

Buddy loved seeing their friends so happy.

They did try and find out more things about Buddy’s past, but with Buddy being vague with the details, they decided that if Buddy did wanted to talk about it, they would on their own time.

“You care to go on another sparring match Buddy?”--Chromia

“Since when have I backed down from that challenge Chromia?”--Buddy

“Well good luck you two—”--Windblade

“And where do you think you’re going Windblade? You’re sparring with us.”--Chromia

“But—”--Windblade

“Maybe if I join in, it won’t be so bad? I could use the warm up.”--Nautica

“Well…”--Windblade

“Well?”--Chromia

“All right. I guess—”--Windblade

“I’m on Buddy’s team!”--Nautica

“Nautica!”--Windblade

Buddy did try and call Megatron, he never answered them. They stopped trying after hearing all the atrocities he was committing on Cybertron. It soon became clear that the Megatron they once knew was gone and replaced with this… awful monster.

Between their work on Caminus and their free time, Buddy did try and keep tabs on Cybertron through the air waves.

Buddy decided to stay neutral for the longest time, not wanting to get involved with politics that no longer concerned them.

That was until on night they had been flying their personal space cruiser when they received a distress signal.

They turned to the signal and saw a red mech flouting around waving his arms around.

Buddy grabbed the mech and pulled him inside the ship.

“Wow, you look like a Sharkticon chewed and spat you out.”--Buddy

“Thanks…”—Hot Rod

“Anyways stranger I’m here to help you with some repairs.”--Buddy

“You’re going to repair me? But you’re a NAIL.”—Hot Rod

“So… your point?”--Buddy

“Don’t you guys hate us, for the war and all?”—Hot Rod

“Kid—”--Buddy

“The names Hot Rod.”—Hot Rod

“Hot Rod, I may not be associated with either of your sides right now or ever, but that doesn’t mean I’m some sparkless bot who’s going to let you bleed all over my ship cold and alone. Now hold still, I know how to repair most of this stuff with what I’ve got so let’s make it count.”--Buddy

“…Thanks…”—Hot Rod

“The names Buddy, Hot Rod.”--Buddy

“Buddy? That’s a… fun name.”—Hot Rod

“Yeah, yeah, it was supposed to be a mean nickname for me back in the old days for my ‘friendly’ personality, but jokes on them, I liked it better than my actual name, so I adopted it.”--Buddy

“Oh!”—Hot Rod

“So, what actually chewed and spat you out because these dents are definitely bite marks.”--Buddy

“It’s a long story.”—Hot Rod

“I’ve got time and enough fuel to get you to…”--Buddy

“Junkion—Wait you’re going to fly me there?”—Hot Rod

“Sure, I got free time.”--Buddy

“And you’re willing to help a stranger get to a planet near enemy territory? Aren’t you afraid of getting caught in the crossfires?”—Hot Rod

“Roddy, if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that I don’t get caught. Never have and never will.”--Buddy

The two had a nice time together while flying.

When Buddy touched down on the planet, they gave him their personal commline in case he was ever blow up into space again. He smiled widely and waved good-bye before racing out to join his group.

Buddy simple took off feeling a bit lonelier on the ship than before. In small solidarity of their little Autobot friend, Buddy decided to get a small Autobot insignia on the inside of their arm.

Time skip after the war and Nautica and Velocity had joined the Lost Light.

Buddy was feeling a bit lonely on Caminus now.

Chromia and Windblade were frequently going to Cybertron now that Starscream had requested their help in speaking with Metroplex. How either didn’t tell Starscream that Buddy was on Caminus was beyond them.

Nautica did call every now and then.

Even Velocity had managed a call or two.

Mainly talks about the science staff and the medical staff on this crazy ship.

Buddy wanted a change. This ship sounded like the change they needed, at least for a little bit.

Buddy packed their things and left the planet on their cruiser looking for the star ship.

It took a while of flying before the giant star ship of the Lost Light came into view.

Buddy hailed in the ship and was received with a talk from the ship’s captain.

“This is the Lost Light. Please state your business.”—Magnus

“Hello, this the space cruiser 1232024, permission to come aboard?”--Buddy

“…You sound familiar. Who are you?”--Rodimus

“My name is Buddy—”--Buddy

“Wait Buddy?! Buddy from Caminus? Wow! It’s been a while!”--Rodimus

“I’m sorry?”--Buddy

“Excuse him, he might think you might be someone else.”--Magnus

“No, you patched up a red mech during the war with pieces of their hull.”—Rodimus

“How do you know that?”—Buddy

“Well, I would be a horrible bot if I didn’t remember who saved me those years ago in space.”--Rodimus

“Oh Primus! Roddy is that you?!”--Buddy

“Yeah! Well, I go by Rodimus Prime now, but yeah come aboard!”--Rodimus

Buddy was greeted by Rodimus and Ultra Magnus at the docking entrance.

Rodimus is pulled into an armor denting hug. Buddy is relieved that their small Autobot friend was okay after all this time.

A former Prime too.

Buddy shook their servo with Ultra Magnus and greeted him politely.

Magnus has gained a friend.

Magnus is going to treasure this friend.

Finally, someone else on this ship that knows decent manners!

“So, what brings you in? You need some oil?”--Rodimus

“No thank you, I’m actually here to ask if I could join you and your crew on your quest.”--Buddy

“Really!”--Rodimus

“Really?”--Magnus

“Yes! I’ve heard about it through some friends of mine that are crewmates of yours. Nautica mainly.”--Buddy

“Yes, you can join! Welcome on aboard. I can comm in Nautica if you want.”--Rodimus

“Oh, that won’t be necessary Captain.”--Buddy

“Why?”--Rodimus

“Well, it kind of defeats the purpose of surprising someone if they know what the surprise is.”--Buddy

“Oookay! I got it! Magnus!”--Rodimus

“Rodimus--”--Magnus

“Call in for an audience in the bridge. We have a dramatic entrance to make.”--Rodimus

Rodimus leaving to the bridge.

“I don’t remember him being this energetic. But he did have though injuries.”--Buddy

“Get used to it, as Co-Captain he loves his role.”--Magnus

“Co-captain? Is that even a term?”--Buddy

“It is now. And welcome aboard.”--Magnus

“Thank you, Ultra Magnus.”—Buddy

Buddy soon was with Ultra Magnus behind one of the bridges blindside chatting about stories that happened before Nautica came aboard.

Apparently, they were going to have a rather unorthodox travel. They started loving this ship more then before.

Buddy would sometimes slip a glance out from their hiding space to see the crowd of Bots around them.

A familiar purple bot caught their optics. Buddy couldn’t hold back the fond smile coming onto their faceplate.

But something else caught their optic.

It was a streak of black, but Buddy could have sworn they had seen that bot before.

“What are you looking at?”--Magnus

“I found Nautica, which is amazing and all, but I thought I saw someone else.”--Buddy

“Who did you think you saw?”--Magnus

“I thought I saw—”--Buddy

“Buddy?!”--Ravage

“No, that’s me, but—wait…”--Buddy

“Ravage what are you doing here? You’re supposed to wait with the others down—”--Magnus

“Buddy! You’re alive!”--Ravage

“Ravage?! Wow! I haven’t seen you—”--Buddy

Ravage leaping to Buddy’s face, but Buddy quickly catches him and keeps him at arms length.

“Ravage!”--Magnus

“Hold it Magnus. Ravage—”--Buddy

“We mourned for you! Do you have any idea what happened when you left? Where did you go? Did someone kidnap you? Tortured you? Put you in a stasis chamber? What?! What happened?!”--Ravage

Buddy pulling Ravage close to their chassis.

“It is good to see you, my friend.”--Buddy

“…I’m not helping you with what happens next when you meet him.”--Ravage

“Meet who?”--Buddy

“You mean they haven’t told you yet?”--Ravage

“Told me what?”--Buddy

“Who do you think the Co-Captains are?”--Ravage

“Rodimus and Magnus?”--Buddy

“I’m not a Co-Captain.”--Magnus

“Really? Because it looked like you’d be one of the bots in charge of things around here.”--Buddy

“I am, however, I am not the other Co-Captain.”--Magnus

“Then who—”--Buddy

“—and without further or do. Here is our newest crewdition!”--Rodimus

“I guess this is my cue. See you in a minute Ravage.”--Buddy

Buddy putting down Ravage down and walking to the main part of the bridge.

“Wait! He doesn’t know they’re here!”--Ravage

“Who doesn’t know?”—Magnus

Buddy turned the corner and saw a sea of bots looking up at them. They saw many curious optics looking over at their frame. The first thing they heard was the familiar sound of Nautica squealing. Buddy saw Nautica making her way up to reach Buddy with Velocity trailing behind her.

The second sound Buddy heard was a loud gasp next to them. Buddy turned and saw the last mech they would have expected being there.

Megatron, in all of his gunmetal glory, stood next to Rodimus. Optics trained on Buddy as Buddy looked back with the same intensity.

Nautica stopped seeing Buddy looking at Megatron like they saw a ghost…

Oh!

This made sense now.

Buddy had always mentioned a certain gladiator back in the old days with much fondness. She always teased Buddy from time to time about the little love, but Buddy wouldn’t do much to say otherwise.

Of course, it was Megatron! He matched too many of the stories Buddy had told her from time to time.

She looked back at Buddy as she began moving forward slowly to the ex-warlord.

“Buddy? Is that you?”--Megatron

Buddy picking up the pace a little bit.

“By the Prime’s it is you! But, how? You’re ship! The whole thing had engulfed in flames!”--Megatron

Buddy sprinting opening their arms out.

Megatron reactively opened his arms out too.

Buddy grabbing said arm and judo flipping the mech onto his back with a pede on his throat.

“THAT WAS FOR NEVER ANSWERING ME BACK YOU SON OF A TURBOFOX!”--Buddy

“Woah!”--Rodimus

“Hold it, hold it!”--Velocity

“That’s kind of hot.”--Whirl

“Not now Whirl.”--Nautica

Buddy getting off of Megatron and single handedly helping him up so they could hug him.

“This is for…for…”--Buddy

“Buddy…”--Megatron

“Hey Megs, I told you I wouldn’t get caught.”--Buddy

“I shouldn’t have doubted you, for a second.”--Megatron

“Finally learning your lesson?”--Buddy

“Maybe.”--Megatron

“…FINALLY!”--Ravage

“Yes!”--Nautica

“What. The.—”--Rodimus

“Rodimus language!”--Magnus

“I have a right!”--Rodimus

“Hey Buddy! Flip me next!”—Whirl

#transformers #transformers x reader #maccadam #idw mtmte #mtmte x reader #bot buddy #mtmte rodimus #mtmte nautica #mtmte ravage #mtmte megatron #mtmte megatron x reader

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icantdothistodaybruh · 13 days

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oh, are you familiar with the BoM side story? where arthur dreams of different characters in different fairy tales? i’ve become so! obsessed! with the snow queen versions of sebaciel. ciels outfit is so pretty on him!! but i love a ciel that left everything behind to stay with sebastian.. and sebastian, he’s been so lonely for so long that when he gets a pretty boy he can’t let him go. when someone tries to save him they not only get a “no” but get forcefully snow-blasted right out the door. they understand each other because no one sees the beauty in desolation like they do… so of course they stay isolated in a castle together.

there’s the panel where sebastian’s wrapping his coat around ciels whole body… sebastian acting so smugly to ciels rescuers… the line where ciel says he belongs to the devil… i could live here forever… please consider this cold angle of sebaciel

I AM! AND IT'S ONE OF MY FAVE EXTRAS OUT THERE!!

The implication that the whole dream was of Sebastian's doing (which he is very capable of judging by GWA) brings out such an interesting twist to it - we can see a glimpse of Sebastian's actual opinion on other characters! But I'm of course going to talk a little about Ciel solely for today hehe

I might be wrong since I only have ru and eng translation at hand, but the way Ciel talks about his heart being frozen and eye belonging to the devil makes me think of these acts as essentially same thing, especially given that he "adapted beautifully to the world of Ice" by Sebastian's words. I mean that his heart being frozen doesn't equal to death or inability to feel, but rather just that, adaptation and belonging.

Now I know it sounded far-fetched, but the reason It caught my attention in the first place was the mentioning of the heart at all. It's a dream made by Sebastian, the 'emotionless' and 'unfeeling' demon, with clear analogy to the contract built on power, revenge, and hunger for one's soul, or at least that is how it always was portrayed before. So why would his made up dream-Ciel suddenly bring a heart into equation?

You should've seen my face when I got to the chapter were Elizabeth escapes to rCiel. Call me delulu but it suddenly made so much sense when Sebastian started talking how "human hearts are mysterious, complex things" and "no matter if you are demon or god it is truly and utterly impossible to shackle another's heart." Before that I wouldn't even think he'd have any opinion on the matters of the heart, let alone it be a stated fact to him that he can't have it in a way he can own souls or bodies.

And so that man, in his made up dream, with a made up Ciel, made that Ciel say that not only his soul (eye) belongs to the devil, but heart too. Knowing for a fact it can't belong to him in reality. I'm speechless.

Also when I got your ask yesterday I thought I should make a fanart or a redraw of that scene, and once again, you should've seen my face when I found the page:

and if you don't know why I was so surprised I'll gladly explain with two more pics:

My head exploded.

Three pieces. Representing their change of masks and roles. Yet each is the same in it's core. And one of them is character's fantasy while other two his reality. I'm so done with this show.

...could it be that Arthur's dream made by Sebastian is yet another lie becoming truth?...

#thank you for coming to my ted talk #sorry if it doesn't make sense I did my best #Writing such long posts is kinda new to me so for all the errors that are bound to be present sorry again #English isn't my first language be nice to me🥲#sebaciel #kuroshitsuji #black butler #ciel phantomhive #sebastian michaelis #text

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ecogirl2759 · 6 months

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So, I decided to take a few photos of the Danganronpa 4コマ KINGS series and compile a few of the findings I thought were funny.

I don't have everything fully translated yet, so there may be a few issues with my findings. If you find any mistakes or have anything to add, please lmk :) I'll also update this if I find things later.

---IMPORTANT NOTE---

All of these drawings are NOT mine. Everything comes from the 4コマ KINGS series published by Spike Chunsoft. I'm simply photographing them and sharing them with others who may not have seen them before (since the series is out of circulation). If there is any issue with my post, please inform me so that I can take appropriate action.

All photos are below the break here :) (Warning, it's long lol) ((And there are a few minor spoilers))

(EDIT: As a side note, I've posted more pictures in an update. Idrk how this site works, so I'm letting people know here so you can find it if you want.)

Fun things that you can learn from the Danganronpa 4コマ KINGS comics:

Hifumi has written, drawn, or thought of making content relating to Sayaka x Kiyoko, Aoi x Sakura (on two occasions), and Makoto x Byakuya

Toko thinks that… something… happened between Mondo and Kiyotaka in the sauna, wink wink.

Toko wrote some sort of fanfiction in relation to Byakuya, Chihiro and Mondo. Idk what it is, but the title is along the lines of "The Byakuya Family Household Sweep Away a Beautiful Girl". (Pretty sure it's a Mondo x Chihiro fic, but I could be wrong.)

^ pretty sure Syo is a heavy BL fan lol

Aoi's b00bs are so squishy, she can use them to launch herself off things.

Everyone really likes drawing pretty boy Byakuya. Like, he looks fabulous in some of these panels. Here is one of those pictures:

........Okay, fine, this is the right one:

Hifumi has drawn gender swaps of a few of the boys, being Makoto, Byakuya, Leon, Yasuhiro, Kiyotaka, and Mondo.

Leon really wants a harem lol

Kiyoko's secret picture (from the last trial in-game) was of Class 78 hosting a cat maid cafe

Yasuhiro's secret (the motive in Chapter 2) is that he's an idiot.

Mondo, Kiyotaka and Sayaka all get along really well! So do Mondo, Kiyotaka and Chihiro :)

Mondo knows how to sew!

Mondo doesn't wear eyeliner, he just has really long eye lashes.

Mondo's hair is fluffy and bouncy :)

Makoto thinks Mondo's hair looks like a corn chip. Aoi thinks it looks like a chocolate croissant :)

Chihiro once gave Mondo a game about dogs. He loved it lol

Chihiro and Mondo have actually trained together.

^ they actually make a great team :)

(I'm pretty sure that) Kiyotaka was found guilty in a trial relating to black underwear. Unclear if he was executed or not. (This point is subject to change once I fully translate the comic.)

Kiyotaka was brainwashed by the Mono-Rangers (parody on Power Rangers) in a different comic. He became Commander Ishimaru and enforced rules and dress code in a dictator-like fashion. (Full translation is still in the works.) This is what his outfit looked like:

Daiya dies in 4K

Komaru's here :D

Mukuro shows up a lot as herself! She's so cute lol

Kiyoko's kinda socially awkward lol, it's really cute.

Makoto has wanted to see up Kiyoko's skirt on multiple occasions.

Makoto has tried a couple of times to cheer Kiyotaka up. It does not work.

And now, here are some funny out-of-context panels to cap off this post! These were too hilarious not to include, I just couldn't make a bullet point out of them lol.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk :)

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makeste · 4 months

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BnHA Chapter 410: Kacchan Fights a Baby

Previously on BnHA: Kacchan was born and then he grew up and murdered the Demon Lord.

Today on BnHA: Kacchan fights a baby. Tomura and Deku finally remember that they were supposed to have been fighting too this entire time, and get on with that once again. Tomura is all, “[literally just reaches out and grabs Deku’s face because Deku’s main character powers suddenly abandoned him in a fit of confusion].” Deku is all, “[chops off Tomura’s fingers which is somehow not even in the top twenty of violent things that have happened in this series in just the last five chapters].” Tomura is all “joke’s on you I still got your quirk :D” and fuck me he actually stole Danger Sense, what the fuck.

logically I knew AFO still had to be alive somehow because he’s too big of a villain to go out that easily without a proper sendoff. but deep in my heart, I’m still secretly disappointed

it just isn’t fair, lol. this guy has died more times than Rasputin and he’s still out here scheming his schemey schemes. when oh when will it end

sir you did not just say you had yet ANOTHER unused trump card up your sleeve??

(ETA: the translation isn’t fully clear here, but I think the trump card he’s referring to is the whole “I’ll just go back inside him and join the part of me that was already in there and we’ll take over Tomura’s body again together” plan that he was trying to pull off. I think. if not though, that’s certainly something worth speculating about.)

well as always the psychology in this series is unironically fascinating! he just wants acknowledgement at the end of the day, huh. just wants some love and attention. too bad he was born in a rat-infested hellscape and learned all the wrong lessons and turned into a crazed omnipotent murderlad

also he really did turn back into a baby sdfsdlkjfl oh no. I need to see Katsuki’s reaction to this immediately

oh my lord

(●__●)

lmao this is so incredibly fucked up

ngl though, this is karma at its finest. he tortured and killed so many people trying to earn everyone’s fear and awe and reverence, only to literally blip out of existence at the end with absolutely nothing to show for it

everyone please enjoy this series of panels of a deeply vexed Bakugou Katsuki picking a fight with this slowly melting evil baby

“you think I care that you’re a baby now. you think I won’t fight a fuckin’ baby. let’s do this you little punk”

also I’m sorry but it’s absolutely ridiculous that the gigantic chest wound Tomura inflicted on him got sewed up so neatly lol. AFO’s not the only one who stubbornly refuses to die no matter what

...

just once, it would be nice if Horikoshi didn’t immediately shred my plot nitpicks to pieces mere seconds after I write them

LMAO

BABY AFO DON’T CARE. BABY AFO WILL THROW HANDS WITH ANYONE ＼(｀0´)／

KACCHAN MY BELOVED FAVE OF ALL TIME, ARE YOU REALLY ABOUT TO LOSE TO A LITERAL FUCKING INFANT

WHAT HAPPENED TO “PERFECT VICTORY” LMAO. MOVING THE GOALPOSTS EVEN AS HIS CONSCIOUSNESS FADES. “EH, CLOSE ENOUGH”

-- OH FOR THE LOVE OF --

me: wow it sure is uncharacteristic of Katsuki to just pass out before he properly wraps up this battle

Horikoshi: oh yeah good point, sure would be a shame if someone... IMMEDIATELY ADDRESSED THAT CONCERN ON THE VERY NEXT PAGE

me: ఠ_ఠ

ldskjflaksdjfkds

fdsfsdkf. “SORRY ABOUT THAT, FOR A MOMENT THERE I ALMOST FORGOT TO BEND THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE TO MY WILL”

holy fucking shit. his body was all “um, just a quick reminder that you’re HORRIBLY WOUNDED and have lost like ten gallons of blood and all of your cells are about to call an emergency meeting to shut this thing down before you get us all killed.” and he was all “WHAT WAS THAT?!” and his body was all “oh my GOD, FUCK, OKAY just forget we said anything”

and meanwhile Baby AFO is just lying there all “(◉⌓◉)”

this six-month-old child is truly and sincerely still trying to kill Kacchan while screeching death threats in high-pitched baby talk

this actually would have killed him too, if he’d succeeded in passing out. all that just to be punk’d by a damn baby

you are actually shitting me right now

at this point I’m genuinely not sure which of them has the more powerful angry toddler energy

oh no ffuffkdsfk

meeeeelting. meeeeeeltiiiiiing!!! oh what a world what a world

jesus Horikoshi I am genuinely speechless

... welp

WAIT NO WAY, REALLY?!?!

?!?!?! WAS IT ACTUALLY THAT SIMPLE THIS WHOLE TIME

-- lkjf

three times. three times in the same fucking chapter. I give up. apparently I’ll literally believe anything this man says. does it feel good, Horikoshi. preying on your readers’ hopeful naivete

yeefuckinghaw lmao

GOOD JOB KACCHAN YOU DEFEATED THE EVIL BABY

awwwww

I actually had a theory about this! well more of a wishlist item, really. I can’t remember if I’ve actually posted about it yet or not. but it’s like. you know how Deku and Kacchan are always being really dramatic about holding hands? wanting to hold hands; not wanting to hold hands; being afraid to hold hands; holding hands via proxy, etc. etc.?

and you know how both Endeavor and All Might have each done their own version of the victory pose that Kacchan is referring to here? with each one using a different hand?

so you see, I was thinking that it might be nice. might be a little poetic and all that. if at the end of the fight, Deku and Kacchan did, in fact, hold hands. and then did the victory pose together. and it became like their iconic hero moment. them standing there together. having accomplished their goal and defeated TomurAFO through teamwork. realizing their shared childhood dream. and sharing that moment of triumph with each other and with the world, ushering in a new era of heroes

anyway yeah. I was thinking that might be a pretty good ending. but it looks like Kacchan maybe really is about to pass out here now, lol, so maybe not? anyways time to finally scroll down

-- okay I literally said awww again out loud

what a fucking nerd. I have never felt more fondness for a character in my life

every damn person watching this on the news better have leaped to their feet and started applauding, goddammit. those motherfuckers better be CHANTING HIS FUCKING NAME. all those nagging reporters better be bombarding his phone with calls. those fuckers who deleted his footage from the Shouto interview better be shamelessly leaving him dozens of voicemails acting like none of that ever happened and presumptuously asking when he can free some time in his schedule to visit their studio again. all the heroes who haven’t hugged him yet better be lining the fuck up. that one guy from the post-kidnapping press conference in chapter 86 better be writing a fifty page letter of apology!!

oh hey it’s a random pre-battle flashback mysteriously taking place in Troy “a few days before the battle” even though I thought they only moved into that place the night before the fight

I love how Katsuki immediately narrows his eyes (I assume. we can’t see for sure but that’s the vibe I get) at Jeanist and has to resist the urge to call the police on him for that pun

so Hadou’s wondering what Jeanist is talking about because they already evacuated the civilians, so what else are they trying to protect. and Edgeshot is all, “well obviously we’ve gotta protect everyone’s future,” which is a nice... rearshadowing?? for him saving Katsuki’s life later on lol

and now Mirko is all “get to the fucking point already.” which, same

so Jeanist says that Tomura is an even bigger problem than AFO, because at least AFO doesn’t want to murder everyone on the entire planet. and he concludes with “he’ll probably try to touch the ground and use his quirk.” which is a conclusion that I have to say wasn’t really worth two pages of flashback buildup for, considering that we all figured that out years ago

I’m guessing this is all just some sort of awkward transition back to Deku’s fight now lol

and now we’re getting two pages of exposition on how long it would theoretically take Tomura’s Decay to spread throughout the city, and then the entire country, yikes

damn. talk about stakes

and now finally back to Deku!!

shoutout to everyone who correctly predicted that Deku was once again talking out of his ass when it came to being out of Gearshifts. we all knew. unlimited supply

wow Tomura way to throw AFO under the bus

the way I recall it, AFO wasn’t the one who failed to kill him back then lol. but go ahead and talk your shit king

DEKU WHAT ARE YOU DOING

holy shit?!?!

like my first thought was “well last time he did this he just tried to steal OFA rather than Decay him, so he’ll probably try that again and it’ll be fine.” only to remember that the AFO inside Tomura is currently permanently(?) out to lunch, and Tomura himself doesn’t give two figs about stealing OFA. so, uhhhh >_>

(ETA: nevermind.)

but then this happened

Deku what the actual fuck

OH MY GOD??!?!

HOLY SHIT

okay. okay, fuck. lemme gather up my thoughts, and then we’ll wrap this up

they’ll never admit it, but you know the other OFA Vestiges secretly resented Shino a tiny bit for being the only one of them to not be gruesomely murdered. bet they all feel guilty for thinking that now

Shino and Banjou also seemed to have this cute little pseudo-rivalry thing going on, so I really feel bad for Banjou now. :/ he looks so horrified in that bottom right panel

gotta admit, I did not see this coming in the slightest. OFA has been this immutable “I do what I want!” quirk for so long that I never thought Tomura or AFO would actually succeed in stealing it, even partially. that shook me to my core

BUT, it’s also really exciting to me because it’s going to make this battle much more interesting if Deku can’t use his get out of jail free card. shit just got way more real and I’m here for it

lastly, so! let me tell you guys my prediction. I still can’t see Tomura being the final villain lol. I just can’t. it feels too anticlimactic. if I’m wrong, I’m wrong, and I’ve certainly botched MANY predictions in the past, but I have not yet learned my lesson from any of it and I will not apologize lol

so here’s what I think. Deku and Tomura battle it out for the next chapter or two, and Tomura snatches up more of Deku’s quirks one by one. we see all of the Vestiges disappearing and the mood gets more and more desperate. eventually we’re down to just Kudou and Yoichi. Deku is panicking, but for some reason Kudou seems even MORE panicked

Kudou/Gearshift eventually gets stolen too, and it looks like this might finally be it for Deku (I have no idea how he’d stop Tomura from Decaying the ground once Blackwhip gets stolen, btw, but maybe Katsuki or someone else interferes in desperation towards the end). but just when it looks like Tomura is finally going to take the last piece of OFA, Deku’s vibes suddenly do a 180, stopping Tomura in his tracks

cut to the OFA Moon Gorgeous Meditation Realm, where Deku and Yoichi are staring at the door -- yes, that door -- in shock. because it’s finally been opened (now that the other Vestiges are no longer there to keep it at bay). and just like that, enter AFO, for the THIRD FUCKING TIME :D :D

tl;dr, HERE’S HOW HORCRUX!DEKU CAN STILL HAPPEN!!! wait where are you all going. wait come back

anyway so wow that was a really bizarre chapter that I truly thoroughly enjoyed, which should probably be a bit concerning. on to the next two week break! (for anyone who’s not aware, Shounen Jump will be on break next week, so yeah.) I’m on chapter 391 now. so close but still so far. the end of the year has gone by too damn fast tbh

#bnha 410 #bakugou katsuki #all for one #midoriya izuku #shigaraki tomura #one for all #bnha meta #bnha theory #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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the-power-of-a-pen · 10 months

Text

A Way Home

Fandom: Spiderverse

Summary: Following the loss of his alternate universe daughter, Miguel is reluctant to risk letting anyone close to him and breaking canon again. However, as most anomalies are returned to their universes, there's the issue of you. You don't have a universe to return to. So, after having you on his team for half a year, he adopts you as his child.

Word Count: 4654

Pairing?: Father-child relationship btwn Miguel and gn! reader.

Trigger Warnings: Some cursing, reader is hinted to having a traumatic past (very briefly and vaguely described), 1 reference to reader as "Spiderman" (meant as a gender-neutral phrase)

A/n: This turned out to be longer than I had planned b/c I realized how much I had to add to make the change of heart even slightly natural, so let me know if y'all want a part two of the reader and Miguel interacting further along the adoption. Not sure how I feel about the structure + characterization in this one. Feedback much appreciated! Please!! I'm on my hands and knees, begging for feedback!!!

------

"Lyla, status on current anomalies," Miguel ordered. He leaned over the yellow panels in front of him, watching the same scene of him and his child playing over and over again. His grip on the console tightened.

She blipped into view. "Currently, there are 918,503,201 anomalies to be returned to their home universes. That's 40% less than yesterday! Spider-Byte does have an update for you regarding-"

"I'll convene with her later. I'm busy."

"Busy brooding over your twelfth cup of coffee. Not enough sugar this time around?" Lyla teased, only to be met with a glare. "Alright, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. But seriously, it can't wait. A canon event was disrupted and now there's a spider-person without a universe to return to."

Miguel turned around dangerously fast. "What did you just say?"

"Talk to Margo -- she'll fill you in." Lyla blipped away.

------

"There you are," Margo mumbled to herself as Miguel approached. "This one's in rough shape, got dropped in Earth 616 and put up a fierce fight before Jessica took them to HQ. I tried to send them through the Go Home Machine, but it just dropped them back here."

"And you're sure it's not a hardware issue?"

"It's 2099," Margo drolled and rolled her eyes. "There's no hardware issues anymore, grandpa."

"Then try sending them home again. I don't see why this requires my supervision."

"This machine tears people's atoms apart and throws them back together in other dimensions," she explained. "If I run the same person through the machine too many times, they could die."

Miguel sighed heavily and began pacing around. "Well, what am I supposed to do? Keep them here forever?"

Margo looked at him like he was crazy and slowly nodded. "You can't leave them here to die."

"They're an anomaly anywhere they go, Spider-Byte. Maybe death would be a mercy."

"To you," Peter B. called from behind him.

"Maldito sea, carajo" Miguel cursed under his breath, turning around. "I thought you were taking the week off."

"Well, I was going to, but Mayday was begging me for another one of these cafeteria burgers," he said with his mouth full of food. "They're really good, you should seriously try them sometime."

Miguel's eyes darted to Mayday and quickly darted away. "I have work to return to in my office, so if you'll excuse me-"

Peter stepped in his way. "I'm sorry, Miguel, but I can't let you walk away from this problem. It's gone too far."

"I'm sorry, what?" Miguel questioned, laughing bitterly.

"Ok, I'm not great with words, especially not in front of big, strong, angry men, so MJ had me prewrite this, let me just get it- oh, Mayday has it. Mayday, hold the paper up for daddy, thanks, sweetheart."

Peter cleared his throat and began to over-annunciate his speech. "Everyone in this building joined your society because they believed in your ability to lead, shape, and change the world. We trusted you to use humane practices behind your actions and to keep the safety and rights of humanity at mind before all else. However, given the fact- Ok, this is bullshit - sorry, Mayday, don't tell mommy. Point is, Miguel, that you claim that you're all about saving the multiverse and saving humanity, but then you throw half of your sanity away to hunt down a 15 year old kid who just wants to save his dad. You're so obsessed with the concept of saving humanity that you forgot what it's like to care about individual humans. You forgot how to be a human."

"I never forgot what it felt like to care. To love."

"It's okay to admit that the new kid reminds you of your daughter, you know."

For a moment, Miguel and Peter B. just stood across from each other in silence, unable to break eye contact. Miguel's expression was intense, but otherwise unreadable. Then: "Go home, Parker. More and more of you prove that you're untrustworthy when it comes to prioritizing the greater good. I'm not afraid to get rid of you, too."

Peter's arms gripped on tighter to Mayday. He seemed to want to say something, but found it in him to walk away. Once he went through his portal back home, Miguel called for Lyla.

"Hold the chatter, Lyla," he said before she could open her mouth, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Silence any notifications except for the urgent ones. And I mean urgent."

"Well, since you asked so nicely," she remarked sarcastically, but complied.

------

Everything in Miguel's office repeated like a broken record. The video of his daughter. Peter's comment that he "forgot what it's like to care about humans, forgot how to be human." Gwen's "we're supposed to be the good guys." The feeling of his own child glitching out of existence in his palms, the very reason he got into this work. The ticking of the clock. The ticking of that motherfucking clock.

He zipped a web to the clock and smashed it into the ground, falling to a knee amidst the broken glass.

"I understand that you're having a very emo moment right now, Mr. O'Hara," Pavitr began, "But Jessica told me to drop this off." He placed the file on the floor and nudged it over with his foot as far as he could without getting too close. "I'm heading home now, have a great day!"

"Wait."

"Oh, I was afraid you would say that."

"Tell Jessica to report to my office."

"She said to tell you that she's not available until noon tomorrow."

"Of course," he chuckled angrily. "One person's off for the week, another needs 3 weeks of recovery. Now one of my only trustworthy members can't report for duty until tomorrow. But who's checking in on me, huh? That's right - no one. I took on this leadership role because I know firsthand what it feels like to have the only joy in your life, your only reason for living, taken away from you because of your own reckless mistakes. And despite all of that, I made it my life's mission to make sure it doesn't happen to anyone else. But now I'm the villain?! "'We're supposed to be the good guys!'" "'You can't leave them to die!'" "'They remind you of your daughter.'" But does anyone else here know the pain of losing a child you weren't even destined to have?"

Pavitr blinked heavily. "With all due respect, sir, I'm 17."

Miguel barely seemed to hear him. He sank to the floor, running his hands through his hair and not bothering to clear the glass shards around him. "Maybe they're all right. Maybe I'm the one hurting everyone else. Maybe I'll make the same mistake I did before, and take another innocent life because I want to feel fulfilled, just for a moment."

"Should I get someone?"

Miguel sighed. "Just go."

------

“Morning, sunshine,” Jessica called, taking a seat in Miguel’s office. “You had a chance to go through the file?”

Miguel hummed in agreement. “Need a second opinion.”

Jessica flipped through her copy of your file. “Teenager, been Spiderman for 2 years, originally from Earth 45, but got dropped in Ben’s world. A slippery one for sure; took nearly two hours to get them on the ground. Tried talking to them, but they wouldn't speak. I know my stance on this, but what’s yours?”

Miguel paced around the room. “We can’t keep them here. They’re an anomaly regardless of where they go. Margo said that it would be too inhumane to send them through the Go Home Machine again, so… I think we should let them go quietly.”

“Are you serious?”

“When am I not serious?” He took a seat across from Jessica. “I’ve been hearing it from everyone else. I need to hear it from someone who was there from the beginning. Someone who I trust. Am I falling off the edge? Have I gone too far?”

She raised her eyebrows. “You’re just now questioning that? Look, as your friend, I’ll say this: you’re taking too much weight onto your shoulders. You need to stop being Spiderman for a moment and start being Miguel.” She shifted in her seat. “But, as your teammate, I want you to know that I’ll be by your side no matter what you choose.”

Miguel nodded, but he was totally spaced out. All he could think about was his daughter. How he wanted to take this one in so bad, just to feel like a father again, feel like a man again. How he feared the consequences of love.

Jessica snapped in front of his face. “Earth to Miguel.”

He shook his head. “What?”

“Look, I can’t say that I don’t agree with your initial idea. But I look at them, and at Gwen, and at my future kid, and-” She put her hand on her stomach “-I just can’t imagine leaving them in the dust like that. I was wrong about Gwen, yes, but these kids are suffering. And I don’t know if we can keep making these hard decisions that put these people right back where they were trying to escape from and still call ourselves heroes.”

Miguel held his face in his hands. “I don’t know what’s up and down anymore, right or wrong. I was all of these kids once: Miles, Gwen, Hobie. I know what it’s like to love your family so much that you throw everything else to the wayside. But that cost me my child, and thousands of other lives. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t do anything to stop it. I just want to stop the suffering. I just want it to stop.”

Jessica gave him a moment. “Let’s meet the kid. Give them a trial before we make any decisions we can’t take back.”

“Alright,” he agreed, “But if you’re wrong about this-”

“Then lunch is on me. Come on, mafioso.”

------

“Here they are,” Margo announced. “Just so you know, they’re fully aware of their situation, but not very talkative.”

“Let me talk to them,” Miguel insisted. “I want to hear what they have to say.”

As Miguel and Jessica approached, you refused to meet their eyes. Instead, you drew your hood closer to your face.

Miguel took a knee by you, talking through the red barrier. “Hey, kid. My name is Miguel. Miguel O’Hara. I’m Spiderman.”

You gasped dramatically. “No way! Really? I never would have guessed!”

He took in a breath. “So you do speak. Look, we’re trying to relocate you, but we need to have your account of what happened. Why doesn’t your home exist anymore?”

You shrugged and counted off the events on your fingers. “Dalmatian-looking dude crashed through a window at my internship. He went straight for the collider room, and most of my mentors were at lunch, so I went after him. I tried to shut off the collider at the same time he stepped through it, he pushed me into a hole, that lady behind you caught me after an uncomfortably long chase, and here we are.”

“You worked at Alchemax,” Miguel mumbled, though mostly to himself.

“Yeah,” you replied, leaning back. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Did you get bitten by the radioactive spider before or after working there?”

“Did I fucking what?”

“That’s how you got your powers, right?” He asked.

“My powers? Oh, I see what’s happening here,” you laughed. “You’re all off your rockers! Let me guess, this is some alternate dimension Alchemax where everyone’s trying to biologically get the abilities that I developed through technology. Ooh ooh, or, this is an elite spider society trying to save the multiverse from itself!”

“That was really just a guess?” questioned Jessica.

“I read a lot of sci-fi,” you explained.

“Nevermind all of that,” Miguel groaned. “What’s your story, kid? What’s your motive? Because if we don’t have that information, we can’t help get you out of there.”

Your expression became grave for a moment as you considered your options and chuckled bitterly. “My story? My story is that I’m a poor kid from the slums who worked their ass off to get into a good school so that I could do better for my family. My story is that my family never loved me, my friends never cared, and I was forced to choose between what I love to do and what the world needed from me. I didn’t have the power to stop my parents from hurting me or stop people from hurting each other. So, I manufactured that power and took it into my own hands. My story is that the moment I was released from that hellhole of a world, I was locked up in a three foot wide cage and forced to talk about my feelings. I heard what you guys were talking about in that back room. All I ask is that you do it quickly. I don’t like waiting.”

“Miguel, we can take a quick debrief if you need one,” Jessica offered, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Miguel didn’t budge. He looked into your eyes and felt your pain like it was his own. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Finally: “Let them go, Margo.”

“What?”

“You heard me,” he asserted. “Let them go.”

Margo released you and offered her hand to help you step down from the pedestal, which you reluctantly accepted. “Didn’t know you were one for sob stories, Mr. O’Hara,” you mocked, though your comment fell through as soon as your legs trembled from lack of use.

“I’m not,” he responded, walking up to you. “But I know an innovator when I see one. You’re hurt, yes, but you have the capacity to do so much good. I’m offering you a place on my team.”

You approached cautiously, your arms crossed. “And if I say no?”

“I’d ask you to reconsider.” He held out his hand for a shake. You accepted, and he smiled. “Welcome to HQ.”

Margo whooped in the background and gave your shoulder a squeeze.

------

“Ok, first mission briefing,” Miguel started, walking backwards.

“On the move?” you asked.

“That’s the only way to do it.” He shot a web to a nearby building and dropped from an HQ terrace.

You followed suit. “Where exactly are we going?” you shouted over the wind.

“Earth 616. There’s a rogue Vulture stealing tech from Osborn. We’d let it happen, but the man's the only thing between a country of people and an all-out war.”

“Got it.”

“We go in, capture Vulture, and bring him back to HQ. Shouldn’t be too difficult.”

You stepped through your portal and immediately got whiplash from the pure speed of a nearby aircraft.

Vulture swooped down from above and tore the tail off of the police helicopter. It crashed into a skyscraper and gained speed as it headed for the street below.

Miguel spoke to you through the comms. “Trial number one, newbie. I’ll pursue Vulture; you stop that helicopter from hurting civilians.”

“On it.” You dived off of your skyscraper to gain speed and pulled yourself forward with your webs. In one smooth movement, you grabbed the two co-pilots and placed them on the closest rooftop.

The helicopter was quickly approaching the ground, where children were playing in an enclosed playground.

“Shit,” you murmured, propelling yourself under the machine to create a landing pad for it at a safe distance from the kids. At the rate you could fire, you wouldn’t be able to stop it on time.

In the distance, you saw Miguel struggling to keep Vulture away from a construction site, and reached out to him over the comms. “Have him ram into that crane.”

“What?”

“Just trust me.”

Miguel redirected the Vulture, dodging last second when he attacked so that the crane would fall down.

The crane caught the chopper where it was, and you used it as a crutch to help you redirect the chaos to the empty street. You swung around the crane five times, wrapping an immense amount of webbage around it and attaching along the side of a business building. When the helicopter threatened to fall due to the weight of it, you shot three web bombs at it to keep it in place.

When you reached the ground, you were out of breath and half-heartedly waving to the clapping children and their parents. Miguel placed his hand on your shoulder as you observed the incapacitated Vulture.

“Not bad, kid,” Miguel chuckled. “Not bad.”

------

A good six months had passed, and you had risen in the ranks of the Spider Society. You were still without a place to stay, and had been bouncing from place to place in between missions. The first month, it was Pavitr and his aunt’s place. Then, Hobie’s, then HQ, and finally, Gwen’s. Most of your free time was spent discussing tech with Margo or trailing behind Miguel.

A building-wide alert had gone off, sending every spider-being into high alert as they searched for the threat.

“What’s the sitch?” you asked Miguel as the two of you bounded down the hall. “A futuristic Rhino that’s suspected to work for The Spot just invaded HQ. He’s trying to destroy our tech and pick us off.”

Just as Miguel had finished his explanation, Rhino crashed through a door four floors below. You both zipped towards him, barely avoiding running into Peter B. as he took a picture of himself, Mayday, and Rhino. Miguel attacked Rhino head-on, performing a spin-kick to the face before webbing his arms together and latching onto his back. Rhino broke his constraints effortlessly, and threw Miguel out of a nearby window. You helped Noir get to his feet and went after Rhino.

By the time you got there, Rhino had Miguel pinned to the cracked concrete. His web shooters were broken, and he was using all of his remaining strength to stop Rhino from snapping his neck. When he saw you approaching, he tried to silently signal for you to go, but you didn’t listen.

“Hey, Alexei!” you shouted. “I never really took you for the dominant type! It doesn’t suit you.”

You swung a piece of concrete at his back and zipped to deliver a punch to the face. Rhino was quick to return the favor, and charged you through a nearby wall.

Miguel attempted to stand up as backup arrived. He climbed onto Rhino’s back and sunk his teeth into his neck, effectively, though temporarily, paralyzing him. A team of 15 spiderbeings worked to get Rhino back to HQ while you and Jessica helped Miguel to his feet.

“What the hell were you thinking, kid? You could have died,” Miguel snapped.

“You were the one near death,” you argued. “If I didn’t come when I did, you could’ve died. Was I just supposed to let that happen?!”

“Yes!”

“No!” You dropped his arm from around your shoulder and Peter B. went to pick up the slack. “Why is it so hard for you to understand that people care about you? You gave me a chance when no one else would. I lost my world, my home, and my friends. I couldn’t lose you, too.”

“That’s not for you to decide. I can’t trust you like an adult if you refuse to act like one,” he grunted, before wavering in his stance. Jessica helped right him.

You took a step back and pressed your lips together. “You know, I joined this team because I wanted to save people. I have the ability to save them. And… if you can’t acknowledge that ability, then… maybe you need to reevaluate your interests.” With that, you took off.

Jessica and Peter sat Miguel down to rest.

“How bad did I fuck up?” Miguel inquired.

“Give them a few minutes to sit on it,” Peter suggested. “Kids are like that. They need time to cool off. Just make sure you talk to them later.”

------

You sat on the slanted glass roof of HQ to listen to music and blow off some steam. Heavy footprints sounded from behind you. You sighed. “If you’re here to argue, can you at least wait until the end of this song?”

“I’m not going to argue with you. I wanted to talk. And… apologize.”

That piqued your interest, but you tried to sound nonchalant as you gestured to the space next to you. “Go ahead, then. Sit.” You turned the music off.

He obliged. “I’m sorry for saying that I couldn’t trust you and that you needed to act like an adult. It wasn’t fair. I do trust you, and there’s no reason for you to act like an adult when you’re still a kid. I’ll be more conscious of my words in the future.”

You nodded. “Thanks.”

You sat in silence for a while, and you began to get up.

“Wait,” he asked. “Please.”

“What did you really come here to say?”

“Just sit, and I’ll tell you.” He waited for you to return to your spot and took a deep breath. “When I was first messing with the multiverse after working at Alchemax, I wasn’t as careful as I am now. I found a world where I was dead, but had a daughter, so I replaced myself and began raising her. I loved her more than anything. But, I was an anomaly, and had disrupted canon events. I felt her glitch right out of my hands. Thousands of innocent people died that day because of me. So, I made a vow to myself: never again. I wouldn’t let this happen to anyone else, and I wouldn’t let anyone get close to me.”

He paused, gulped, and forced himself to make eye contact with you. “Then I met you. And I tried to hate you, I really did. But you’re funny, and you’re smart and passionate, and you have a damn good heart. And everything in me just wants to protect you. I’m so mad at myself for hurting you and-”

You cut him off with a bear hug, to which he slowly responded once he understood what was happening. You shed a few tears into the crook of his neck and mumbled, “I’m sorry, too.”

He laughed, partially in disbelief. “For what?”

“I called you a dick behind your back for the first three months because I thought you had a stick up your ass.” You backed away snickering and wiped your eyes. “But you’re more my family than my parents ever were.”

Now or never, Miguel.

“About that,” he began. “I know you’ve been staying at Gwen’s place - and you’re completely free to stay there if you want - I just thought it might be nice for you to have a permanent place to stay, a school to go to, a familiar face, you know?”

“Not really,” you expressed. “What do you mean?”

“I- it’s better if I just show you.” Miguel took a folder out of his bag and handed it to you. He looked the other way as you processed what he gave you.

“Are these adoption papers?”

“Um… yeah,” he relented, still refusing to look your way.

“And this isn’t a joke?”

“Of course not. But, it’s also up to you. I don’t want to pressure you into anything you don’t want to do-”

“Yes,” you cut him off and wrapped him in an even tighter hug. “Absolutely yes.”

------

Miguel helped you carry your few boxes of belongings that you had left at Gwen’s into his modern duplex.

“Jesus, dude,” you commented. “You didn’t tell me you were rich.”

He laughed. “This is what being a scientist earns you.”

“Damn.” You took the space in. The windows in the living room were from floor to ceiling, the couch a cool grey with ornate yellow and green pillows. Everything was open concept, and both the Mexican and Irish flag hung on either side of the TV. Aside from the occasional painting, the apartment was largely monochromatic.

“The kitchen is under that loft area, which I usually use as office space, but you’re free to use it, too. Bathrooms on first and second floors,” he explained while walking up the stairs. He stopped in front of the third door to the right. “This is your room.”

You gently pushed open the door. Miguel had prepared for your arrival intensely. A twin bed sat in the back left corner of the room, a desk in the back right. There was a wide panel of windows with shades and a nightstand with knick knacks. A mirror, bookshelf, decorative rug, and bean bag filled the empty space. A poster with a Spiderman symbol hung over your desk, and a smile fought its way onto your face.

“There’s a closet, too,” Miguel said proudly.

You opened the closet to find it fully stocked with casual, formal, and tactical clothing. “You did all of this for me?”

He smiled warmly. “Welcome home.”

------

It was the following year on Father’s Day, and you were waiting for Miguel to come home when you heard keys turning at the door.

“Hey,” you called from the kitchen island. “I made dinner for us. And we can watch that crappy comedy show that you like.”

He hung up his jacket and gave you a hug. “Thanks, sweetheart. How was it with your friends?”

“Pretty good. But it took an hour to get Miles out of that Famous Footwear. I swear that boy has enough sneakers to cover the Mediterranean. How was work?”

Miguel grabbed a plate and took a seat next to you. “Well, we finally figured out the malfunction in the control room. Hobie had been messing around with it for his own projects. Shocker, right? But other than that it was just a bunch of boring meetings.”

“Oh, I just remembered something.” You rushed upstairs to get a gift bag from your room and returned, out of breath. “I made this for you. It’s not much, but my job doesn’t start until July and I wanted to give you something, so…”

He removed the tissue paper to find a carefully knitted shawl with his suit designs on it. He remained speechless for a moment.

“What do you think?”

“I love it.”

“Really? Cuz I could get you something else if you’d prefer-”

“I love it,” he repeated, giving you a bear hug. “I’ll wear it all the time when the weather takes a turn.”

“I thought it might be useful for winter patrols,” you admitted.

“It will be. I know you don’t like getting too sappy, so let’s watch some TV, yeah?”

Halfway through an episode of the comedy show, you got up to use the bathroom. Miguel paused the show and admired your work on his shawl. When you came back, he was still staring at it as if he were examining each individual stitch.

“I’m back,” you said when he didn’t acknowledge you.

He hummed in response. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

You furrowed your brows, worried now. “Is something wrong?”

“No, not all, it’s just…” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I wanted to let you know that I would understand if you want to look into seeing if there’s any way to find your real parents. I love you and I want you here, don’t get me wrong, but if this is something you feel strongly about, I wanted to make sure you knew that my feelings wouldn’t be hurt.”

You stared at him for a while before bursting into laughter.

“What’s so funny?”

You grabbed his hands and looked him in his eyes. “I found my real dad the moment you brought me here. I’m home.”

He squeezed your hands and repeated your words as if convincing himself of the truth. “You’re home.”

------

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