#and the ones I will kick myself for not giving a shout out to because I'm scatterbrained
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Webs of Fate - Miguel O'Hara (Part II)
Sequel to Web of Secrets
Miguel O'Hara x SpiderSun Reader
words: 5.2K
warnings: secret pregnancy trope, swearing, angst, heartbreak, grumpy/sunshine, smut, time jumps, not really comic accurate (canon events), semi public piv, 18+
Part I Part II Part III Part IV
You are all back at the Spider-Verse Headquarters and the atmosphere is tense. Everyone is still high on adrenaline from the mission. You’re nursing a deep gash on your arm but your spirit is far from broken.
Miguel, however, seems to be on the verge of an explosion.
“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT OUT THERE SPIDER SUN?” he bursts out, his voice echoing through the HQ.
You're taken aback. “What do you mean?”
“That reckless behavior! You could have been killed!” he roars. “Why didn’t you retreat when you were injured?!”
“Because there were lives at stake! I can handle myself, Miguel!” you shout back.
“You think this is a game?! You think being part of this team is just for kicks?” Miguel’s face is red, his voice strained.
“Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare question my dedication!” you yell, your own anger now matching his.
The team is watching, shifting uncomfortably. Gwen looks at Jess, who shakes her head. The room is thick with tension.
Alright, if you are being honest with yourself, your recent actions in the field could definitely be classified as reckless. Perhaps even bordering on idiotic - not that you’d ever confess that in front of Miguel. You didn’t know where your mind went. Wait, no, scratch that. You knew precisely where your thoughts were, every mission since you discovered your pregnancy has been like this; your spider senses dulled, focus scattered to the wind, and reflexes that would’ve made a sloth proud.
And then there was this mission – your first one in quite a while alongside Miguel. He was bound to notice.
So you were fighting an Electro variant from an alternate universe, alongside Jess, Gwen, Ben and Miguel. The electric villain was throwing bolts of energy left and right and everyone was giving their all. You noticed a civilian trapped under some debris. You made a beeline for them, not thinking about anything else.
As you lifted the debris, an energy bolt flew straight for you. Usually, your Spider-Senses would have alerted you but not today. It hit you square in the back and sent you flying.
You hit a wall but ignored the pain as you scrambled back to your feet. A sharp ache spread across your arm but you gritted your teeth and kept fighting.
Miguel yelled, “What the hell are you doing?! Fall back!”
But you didn’t, you kept pushing forward.
He landed next to you, his eyes filled with anger and something else, maybe a hint of worry. He grabbed your waist to pull you back. But as another energy bolt was coming your way, you shoved him out of the path, taking the hit for the second time. So yeah, you could say that this mission wasn't exactly the shining star in your superhero career.
“ESTÚPIDA! So damn stupid. I won’t fucking watch someone throw their life away recklessly!” Miguel was now yelling loudly in oyur face for everyone in the HQ to hear.
“Oh, please. What’s it to you? Since when do you care, Miguel?!” you shout back, finally having enough of his insufferable attitude. “All this time, you’ve treated me like I’m dispensable. Like I don't matter! Well, guess what? I can fight, I can make decisions, and I don’t need you to approve them!”
“Don’t!” Miguel's voice cracks, and for a brief second, there’s a look of hurt on his face that surprises you. But his rage quickly replaces it. “I cannot do this anymore with you, ¿me entiendes?” he yells.
The room falls silent. Everyone’s gazes dart between you and Miguel. You can feel Gwen’s worried eyes on you, and Ben Riley. looks like he wants to intervene, but this moment is too charged.
You take a deep breath, tears welling up. “I can't do this anymore either,” you whisper.
“What?” Miguel's voice is barely audible.
“I can't keep fighting for a team where I’m not respected or trusted. Where you treat me constantly like a liability, like I am worth nothing to you,” you say, your voice steadier now.
“You don’t know what you are saying,” Miguel says, his tone slightly softening.
You turn around, your eyes welling up once again and open a portal to your universe. “I do, I quit” you say, your voice breaking.
You reach into your pocket and pull out your transdimensional gizmo, the small device that every Spider-person uses to travel across the multiverse. It's an intricate piece of technology, a blend of science and magic that fits in the palm of your hand.
You toss the device on the table in front of Miguel. It skids across the surface before coming to a stop right in front of him. He looks from the gizmo to you, his expression unreadable.
"Take it. We don’t need it anymore." You say defiantly, meeting his gaze.
Everyone knows the implication of you returning the gizmo. Without it, you're effectively stranded in your universe, unable to return to the society. This isn't a decision made lightly, it's a point of no return.
As you step through the portal, you glance back one last time. You see Miguel’s face, contorted in pain, but he doesn’t move, he doesn’t speak and he doesn't stop you.
Your heart is breaking, but you can’t stay here. Not when it’s this painful.
You turn away and head toward the portal room, with one hand lightly grazing your tummy. Gwen calls your name, but you don’t stop.
In the dim light of the room, the world seems to fade away as you lie there with Miguel on top of you. You are under him, breathless, your fingers running through his hair. His body pins you down in a tender, electrifying way, and you can feel the rhythm of his heart beating against yours.
His fangs graze the curve of your neck lightly, eliciting a shiver that runs through you. In response, he nuzzles into you, his breath warm against your skin.
"Ever think about what we're doing?" he asks in a whisper that vibrates against your neck.
"Constantly," you respond, your fingers tracing the curve of his broad shoulders, "but I don’t regret it, not a moment.”
He lifts his head, his red orbs searching yours. “Neither do I,” he says, his voice barely more than a whisper. His hand reaches up to trace the contour of your face.
"You know," you whisper, your hands continuing caressing his back, "I always wondered what it was like in your universe, in your time."
He shifts a little, propping himself up on one elbow as he looks down at you. His eyes, usually as unreadable, now seem to crack open; emotions swirl within them like stars.
"It was great, you know," his voice is gentle, each word enveloping you. "No, more than that – it was perfect," he corrects himself. His eyes never leave yours as he continues, "I had my Gabriella. Ah, you would have adored her." His voice softens to a mere whisper as if speaking her name too loudly might shatter the memory. "She was this incredible burst of life just like you. My own little sunshine. I didn’t know my heart could hold so much until she came into my life."
"The way she would throw her head back and laugh, it was like music. Her tiny hands – so soft and gentle. I remember how one of them always found mine, and the world felt... right." He continued, "I was never alone, never empty." He swallows hard, as if trying to keep the flood of emotions from washing over him.
You cup his cheek gently, smiling up at him. "You don't have to be alone, you know?"
He lets out a dry chuckle. “Sometimes it feels like there's no other option. It’s my fate."
“What scares you the most, Miguel?” you suddenly ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
He hesitates. “To lose myself… to forget what it means to care for someone,” he finally confesses.
“You won’t,” you assure him, your thumb stroking his cheek. “Not if you don’t let yourself.”
“¿y tú?” His voice is husky. “What’s your biggest fear?”
“To be forgotten,” you whisper.
He lowers himself and presses his forehead against yours. “Imposible,” he breathes. “You’re the sun. No one forgets the sun.” He pulls you closer, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, his arms tighten around you, pulling you closer until the world outside disappears.
Suddenly, his wrist console beeps, yanking him back to the present. "O’Hara, are you okay?" Lyla's voice echoes in the room, breaking the silence. He blinks, his gaze focusing on the holographic screen displaying the mission details in front of him. "Yeah, Lyla," he responds, his voice a bit hoarse. "Just remembered something," he murmurs, and refocuses on the screen before him.
Amidst the sea of codes and numbers, Miguel finds himself struggling to focus. His thoughts still are consumed by you, and a heavy realization crashes down upon him like a tidal wave - he’s lost you forever.
He always knew that this was how it was meant to be. This was the only logical conclusion, the inevitable outcome that he had tried so hard to deny. He was aware of the potential repercussions, the cosmic imbalance that could be brought about by your intertwining fates.
Lyla had warned him multiple times, cautioned him against letting you close. But how could he have possibly resisted you? You, who shone brighter than the sun, who captured the hearts of everyone around with your aura and your kind soul. Your beauty was unparalleled, and your laughter had the power to fill a room, casting away shadows. He was a moth drawn to your flame, hopelessly captivated from the very first day he met you.
But you were never meant to be his story, not the path his life was meant to tread. You belonged to another world, another universe.
"You're thinking about her, aren't you?" Lyla breaks the silence with her smooth, computerized voice. “No,” he interrupts her sharply, his voice a little too forceful.
But Lyla isn't easily deterred. "You know it was dangerous from the beginning, Miguel," Lyla continues. "Engaging with her like that...it could have caused irreparable damage to the multiverse."
"I know," he replies curtly.
Unyielding, Lyla continues, "This was never supposed to be a canon event. Her universe is not meant to mix with yours. It's fortunate that she left when she did. The damage could've been—"
“I KNOW!” Miguel suddenly erupts, his voice thundering through the room. He screams, his frustration boiling over, "¡Ya lo sé, Lyla! ¡Basta ya!" ("I already know, Lyla! Enough already!") With a loud grunt, he sweeps his arm across his desk, sending his keyboard, mug, and various other items crashing to the ground.
There is a deafening silence as Miguel breathes heavily, his chest heaving. His eyes are wide, his face is flushed and his fangs are bared. He never loses control, not like this.
Lyla, for once, remains silent.
3 months later…
Back in Nea Yorkey, Earth 586 , you are perched on the rooftop, absentmindedly rubbing your stomach. Time has passed since you left Nueva York and Miguel, but your feelings for him are still a tangled mess. Damn these pesky pregnancy hormones.
For once, it’s pretty calm out there. No honking horns in traffic jams or the usual buzz of people everywhere. It’s like the city hit the pause button and honestly, it’s kind of nice. The streetlights are like tiny fairy lights all over, and the tall buildings around you feel like they’re keeping you company.
The cool breeze brushes against your face, and you can't help but be lost in your thoughts. Thoughts of him. The relentless flood of emotions is almost too much to handle.
The flashback hits you hard, placing you right back in Miguel's office late one evening. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, your backside planted firmly on his desk amidst strewn cables and metallic pieces and half-empty coffee mugs.
"Miguel, someone will catch us," you had warned, your breath hitching as he nipped at your skin, his hands deftly moving to undo your skintight suit. His hair was a little longer then, the ends tickling your forehead as he kissed you.
He had just chuckled, the sound deep and throaty, making your heart flutter. "They know better than to disturb me," he'd responded confidently, his lips trailing fiery kisses along your jawline.
Usually, Miguel was cautious about showing any sign of affection when others might be around, even if 'around' meant anywhere in the sprawling headquarters of the Spider Society. Yet, that night, he seemed to throw caution to the wind.
In his enclosed office, late into the evening, he let his guard down - a rarity. His lips were insistent against your skin, his touch setting you alight. You remember how the soft glow of the desk lamp had caught in his eyes, making them appear even more mesmerizing.
As he was holding your ass up steady and pounding into you, in a pace and fervor you never experienced before, you hear his communicator ring vibrating. You instinctively attempt to pull away, assuming he would answer the call, but he holds you tighter, his lips never leaving your skin.
His free hand pulls up a holographic screen,which flickered to life above the desk, revealing a slightly pixelated image of Jess. You panic for a moment, worried that she might see you in this intimate moment with Miguel, but he just shook his head slightly, reassuring you that she can't. He must have filtered the video feed on his end.
“Yes, Jess?” Miguel’s voice was steady, but his breath ghosted your neck in short spurts. He continued with his action, his thrusts a little slower but deep, nevertheless. You clamp your teeth down onto Miguel's shoulder in a desperate attempt to stifle the moans escaping your throat, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. You can barely contain yourself. Miguel's soft, amused chuckle vibrate through you as he wraps his arms around you protectively. Asshole.
“We’ve got an anomaly on Earth-4067, seems like a temporal rift,” Jess's voice came through the hologram.
“Have you tried the Q-particle stabilizer?” Miguel asks, his voice so casual it's almost disarming. His eyes meet yours, a playful glint in them.
“Yeah, but it didn’t work. The rift is actually growing,” Jess responds, the worry in her voice increasing. “What do you think we should do?”
“Alright, I want you to reconfigure the dimensional frequency to match the rift. Then patch the satellite feed through the Alchemax algorithm, reverse the temporal frequency by 4.7 hertz and use the resonance pulse to stabilize the rift,” Miguel articulates with authority as he continues to pick up his pace. You’re close to the edge, with the euphoria threatening to make you cry out. The sheer pleasure is now tinged with a faint edge of pain, and a wave of panic crashes over you. The thought of Jess possibly hearing you is nerve-wracking, and you’re now fighting to suppress your screams.
Your breathing becomes erratic as you whisper in a hoarse, needy voice, “Miguel, ‘m close."
"I know, mami. Come for me," he whispers back, his voice filled with a playful mischief that seems to defy the gravity of the situation. His hot breath against your ear sends shivers down your spine and the wave of pleasure crushes down on you.
“Miguel, are you sure about this? I mean, if something goes wrong…” Jess hesitates.
“I’m sure, Jess.” Thrust. “Do.” Another hard thrust. “it.” Miguel’s voice turns forceful.
“Okay, I trust you. But... are you alright? You sound kinda breathless,” Jess's suspicion returns.
“Oh, just...uh...running some diagnostics. It’s a bit stuffy in here,” Miguel replies with a smirk on his face, his fingers now gently brushing against your bare heated skin.
The rooftop is silent again, and you're still rubbing your belly, where the life you and Miguel created is growing. A bittersweet tear rolls down your cheek as you wish, not for the first time, that things could have been different.
You don’t know how long you are sitting there, taking in the city scene. But it was getting dark, when a familiar figure swings onto the rooftop. It's Gwen, carrying a small package in her hand. “Gwen? What brings you to Nea Yorkey?”
She walks up to you with a soft smile, "Do I need a reason to visit my favourite Spider-Ma? I've got something for you."
You raise an eyebrow as she hands you the package. As you unwrap it, you find a tiny Spider-Man hat, similar to the one Mayday usually wears. And to your surprise, there’s a tiny anarchy pin, attached to it.
"From the group," she says softly. She adds, pointing at the pin, "This bit here, that’s from Hobie." Of course it is.
You’re moved to tears as you hug the hat close. It's a simple gift, yet it means so much. You feel a lump in your throat, and Gwen steps forward, wrapping you in a warm, comforting hug.
"I...I miss all of you so much," you manage to whisper, your voice choked with emotion.
"We miss you too," Gwen replies, her voice equally soft.
You pull back, wiping your eyes. Gwen tries to lighten the mood, "So, any guesses on the gender? I bet it’s a boy."
You shrug, a small smile tugging at your lips, "I don't care what it's going to be. I just want them to be healthy."
Gwen grins, "Just remember, if it is a boy and he turns out to be a handful, you owe me a soda."
You both sit on the edge of the rooftop in a comfortable silence, legs swinging over the city, the conversation turns more serious.
"So," you venture, "how are things back at the Spider Society?"
Gwen’s expression turns contemplative. "It's been... strange since you left," she admits.
"Strange how?" you prod.
"Well, you know how Miguel was always a little on the, uh, grumpy side?" she says, making a grimace.
"You mean being a brooding fortress of doom and gloom?" you quip, and Gwen chuckles.
"Yeah, that. Well, he's gotten worse since you left. Like, way worse," Gwen's face turns somber as she continues. "He’s even more closed off than before. His temper’s shorter, he barely communicates, and he's been pushing everyone away. Miguel’s basically got everyone on lockdown. No unauthorized visits between universes. There’s this... I don’t know... this cloud hanging over him, you know?”
Your heart tightens as you take in her words. You had no idea that your departure had such an impact on him, or anyone for that matter.
“He doesn’t talk about it, but I think he misses you,” Gwen adds, looking directly into your eyes.
You are torn. Part of you wants to be angry at Miguel for how things went down, but another part aches for him.
Gwen nudges you. "Maybe he needs his sunshine back," she says with a gentle smile.
You sit in silence for a moment, the weight of Gwen’s words sinking in. “Don’t be silly. I was never his sunshine.”
4 months later…
Beneath the pale glow of hospital lights, pain and joy mingle in the delivery room. The grip you have on the sheets gets tighter as you push to usher your baby into the world. Your hair is sticking to your forehead, your breath comes in heaving gasps, exhaustion painting dark circles under your eyes.
Meanwhile, unbeknownst to you, a portal flickers to life outside your window, and Gwen, Peter B., and Hobie emerge.
“Make way! The party has arrived!” Peter B. exclaims loudly.
“I don’t believe in parties.” Hobie says as he struts in, clad in his Spider suit with a leather jacket over it, pins and patches proudly displayed.
Gwen knocks at your door. The midwife, busy with you in the labor, answers.
“Uh, who are you?” the midwife asks, slightly agitated.
“We’re friends of hers,” Peter gestures towards you, “is it a good time?”
You hear their voices, but you cant muster up a response all you can do is scream and push.
“Blimey, I didn’t think it’d be like somethin’ outta Alien! You alright there, love?” Hobie’s eyes go wide, as he enters the room.
You can't help but laugh through the pain, "Oh, just peachy, thanks for asking."
Gwen steps forward, immediately grabbing your hand, her voice soothing, “Hey, you’re doing great. Is there anything we can do?”
“You could get Hobie out of here,” you jest, rolling your eyes, but your smile betrays your appreciation. Another loud scream follows.
“You got this, luv!” Hobie shouts. “Just imagine the bloody contractions as guitar riffs! You’re about to release the raddest album in history!”
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you hear the cries of your newborn baby.
“Congratulations, it's a boy!” the nurse announces, handing the baby to to you.
You can’t help but laugh. Gwen steps closer to the bed and takes a peek at the baby. Her eyes light up. “Told you, it’s a boy. He’s absolutely beautiful,” she whispers.
Hobie chimes in. “Alright, let’s get a proper look at the little bloke!” He leans in, and his face softens. "Oh, look at 'im!" Hobie exclaims in his thick British accent, peering at him. "Little blighter's a spitting image of 'is mum, ain't he?” No. You see it then, the dark eyes with a hint of red glow echo the intensity of his father's gaze, the dark chocolate hair and the sun kissed complexion. He looked undeniably just like Miguel. You cant help yourself but fall immediately in love with your and Miguel’s little boy.
As they prepare to leave, Gwen, Peter B., and Hobie each take turns holding Gabriel and whispering well-wishes to him.
“I can’t thank you guys enough for being here,” you say, wiping away a tear.
Peter’s mask is off and he’s beaming. "We couldn't miss this for the multiverse!"
Gwen follows suit, "Yeah! Plus, Hobie wouldn't let us hear the end of it if we didn’t."
“We’re family,” Peter says firmly. “Across universes and timelines. We’re always here for each other.”
With that, the trio put on their masks and with another whoosh, they're gone.
1 year later...
One year has passed like a whirlwind. You've established a balance in your life. By day, you are a doting mother, and your world revolves around a little ball of energy named Gabriel. His laugh is the music that fuels your day, and his tiny hands holding yours make everything seem alright.
At night, though, you become someone else. Clad in a white suit adorned with golden sun patterns, you swing through the skyscrapers of Nea Yorkey as the Sun Spider. Your heart swells with pride, knowing that you’re keeping the streets and your little boy safe.
Your neighbor, Melissa, sometimes babysits Gabriel. She is a cheerful, quirky 19-year-old neighbor who dreams of becoming an Instagram influencer. You trust her (her career choice not so much) and, most importantly, Gabriel adores her.
Up until today, you believed that he hadn't inherited any powers. However, today was the first time he climbed up a wall and spun a web, without the aid of a web-slinger. It was the first time you witnessed him display such powers, and naturally, you were impressed. However, you also realized that being a mom would now involve dealing with a whole new set of challenges and responsibilities, making everyday life more exhausting than before. But you are up for the challenge;
Meanwhile, in the Spider Society’s HQ in Nueva York, Lyla’s holographic screen blinks red as she detects an anomaly in Earth 586 - your universe. She reports it to Miguel, who is still his grumpy self, seemingly even more irritable with each day passing.
“There’s a presence in Earth 586 that does not belong,” Lyla reports in her emotionless tone.
Miguel, sitting at his desk, sighs deeply. “Assemble the team. Pavitr, Lego Spider-Man, and... let’s bring in the newbie, Miles.”
Minutes later, the trio is briefed about the anomaly – a two-year-old child. They are to extract the child and bring it back.
Back in your universe, you're facing off against a notorious villain – The Shocker, who is on a rampage downtown. His high-frequency shock waves shake the very foundations of the buildings around you.
“Not tonight, Shocker,” you quip as you dodge a blast. “I’ve got a bedtime story to read!”
You're agile and sharp, but you can’t wait to get back home to Gabriel.
In your apartment, Melissa is on the couch, engrossed in her phone. She doesn't notice Pavitr slyly slipping into Gabriel's room. He can’t help but feel conflicted, seeing the innocent child asleep.
“This is the target?” Pavitr speaks in a hushed tone into his communicator. His voice is laced with doubt.
“Yes, proceed,” responds Miguel firmly.
Pavitr gently picks up Gabriel, cradling him in his arms. “Sorry, little guy,” he whispers and slips out.
Outside, they gather near the portal. Miles, who is visibly excited to be on his first mission, can sense the tension among the group.
“That was… too easy,” Pavitr murmurs, still holding the sleeping child.
Through the swirling portal, they make their way back to Nueva York.
Meanwhile, you web up The Shocker and leave him hanging for the police.
Back in the Spider Society's HQ in Nueva York, the team stands in a specialized containment room with the toddler still peacefully sleeping nestled in a makeshift bed of spider-web, completely oblivious to the attention he's attracting. One by one, members of the Spider Society trickle into the room, drawn by curiosity and concern.
Miles, who is new to the Spider Society, looks at the child with confusion. "I don't get it, what's so dangerous about a kid?" he asks.
Pavitr looks conflicted, “We have to determine where he came from and why he is considered an anomaly.”
Lego Spider-Man remains silent, trying to analyze the situation. He finally speaks up. "We should be cautious. Just because it's a child doesn't mean it's not potentially hazardous to the multiverse."
Miguel enters the room, his face cold and emotionless. He glances at the sleeping child, then at his team. “It doesn’t matter what it is. Anomalies threaten the balance of the multiverse. Every anomaly has to be returned to its home universe. That’s the rule.” he says sternly.
"But he's not an anomaly, boss," Jess adds, gazing fondly at the child. "He's a little boy."
Miguel’s gaze is unwavering, ignoring Jess. “Lyla? Whats the status?”
Lyla's holographic form flickers into the room. "This entity possesses unknown powers," she declares, her voice ringing out with clinical detachment. "And according to my scans, it doesn't belong to any known universe. Therefore, it cannot be returned. It must be... eliminated."
Miles' eyes widen. “Wait, you mean…?” he can’t bring himself to finish the sentence.
Pavitr steps forward, his fists clenched. “We can’t just... There must be another way.”
Back in your universe, you swing closer to your apartment, but your spider-sense starts are tingling with a ferocity you’ve never experienced before. Your heart races, and you quicken your pace. Bursting through the window, you find Melissa still sitting on the couch, scrolling through her phone.
"Where is he? Where’s Gabriel?!" you shout, panic straining your voice.
Melissa's eyes go wide as she looks up from her phone. "What? He's in his room, sleeping," she says, but her voice falters when she sees the terror on your face.
You rush into Gabriel's room and find the crib empty. Your knees buckle, and a guttural scream escapes your lips. The room spins as you run back to the living room, grabbing Melissa by the shoulders.
"Did anyone come in? Did you see anything?!" you practically scream at her.
“I... I didn’t see anyone. I swear!” Melissa's voice shakes.
Your heart feels like it's tearing apart. You look around the room, desperate for any clue. You need to find your son, and something deep within you tells you that the Spider Society is where you need to go. You have to find a way to travel through the multiverse without a gizmo and the time is ticking. You have to find your son.
Back in the HQ in the midst of the tension-filled room, Gwen stands up, "Miguel, you can't be serious," she pleads, disbelief resonating in her voice. "We can't just... kill a baby.”
Miguel's eyes narrow. "Sometimes tough decisions have to be made for the greater good.”
Just then, little Gabriel wakes up. His big eyes wander curiously around the room, and he starts to make happy babbling sounds. Unfazed by his surroundings, he looks at each of the Spider-People with fascination.
As Peter B. is about to reach down to pick Gabriel up, the toddler crawls quickly over to Miguel. His little face lights up with the purest of smiles and he reaches his tiny arms towards Miguel as if trying to give him a hug.
The room seems to collectively hold its breath. Even Miguel seems taken aback.
Pavitr can't help it, “He seems to have taken a liking to you, boss.”
Gwen smiles, her eyes watering up. “See? Even this innocent soul can sense there’s still good in you.”
Tiny fingers grip at the fabric of Miguel's suit, baby Gabriel coos and giggles as he clambers up the towering figure. Planting tiny baby kisses on any part of Miguel he can reach, the toddler's joyous laughter rings in the silent room. "Vete, Vete." Miguel mutters. And despite Miguel's cold exterior, Gabriel is unphased, drawn to him as though an invisible bond exists between them.
Miguel looks frustrated and uncomfortable with the baby's affection. He awkwardly picks Gabriel up at arm’s length. But the little one is relentless, trying to cuddle into Miguel’s chest.
Annoyed, Miguel places Gabriel into a containment field made of energy beams, to keep him in place. The baby, though restrained, is still reaching out to Miguel with his tiny hands, cooing.
The room goes quiet again, and Gwen speaks, her voice soft.
“Look at him, Miguel. Please. You can’t tell me that this doesn’t affect you in any way.”
Miguel's face is tense, his jaw clenched. His eyes dart between Gwen and Gabriel. All eyes are directed towards Miguel. The room feels like it’s waiting for something to shatter.
“We do what needs to be done, no exceptions.”
Part III "Web of Shadow and Light"
a/n: Honestly, I can't begin to express how much your support and kind messages mean to me. I literally started crying when I saw how much love this story received. It means the world to me. Truly, thank you. I'd love to hear your thoughts, and if someone could give me a heads-up on whether the tag list functioned properly, that would be great. Also, apologies for any inconsistencies or logical errors regarding the multiverse or canon theory. I watched the movie but I'm not 100% sure of that's how it works.
Once again, I really do appreciate each and everyone of you. Please, don’t forget to take good care of yourselves and stay hydrated! ILYSM
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#miguel o hara#spider man x reader#miguel o'hara#miguel x you#miguel x reader#spiderman 2099#atsv miguel#across the spiderverse#atsv fic#atsv fanfiction#miguel o hara x reader#miguel ohara#miguel ohara imagine#oscar isaac fanfiction#oscar isaac#spider man#spiderman#comics#spiderman fanfiction#miguel ohara x you#spiderman 2099 x you#atsv
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Katsuki’s POV:
I fucking hate myself. I was never supposed to become this type of sick idiot.
But here I am, across the room staring at her because she’s laughing, and it’s one of those full body laughs. She’s not trying to cover her face or stifle it at all. Sometimes she gets self conscious about her laugh being too weird or too loud but she couldn’t give two fucks about that right now and I physically cant tear my eyes away from her.
I’m aware that Eijirou is talking to me, but I’m not hearing anything he’s saying. It’s not until Denki’s face pops up in my line of vision that I finally snap out of what ever fucking trance the temptress had put on me.
“Baku-bro you should really close your mouth before something flies in it.” Denki says with a goofy grin on his face.
“Yea well, you should close your mouth before I shove my fist in it dumbass.”
“Hey, leave him alone. He’s in love.” And Eiji bumps his shoulder up against me. “It’s super manly.”
“Do you idiots ever shut up and mind your business?” I shout because I hate being called out about her. I swear I’m trying my best to not follow her around like a lost puppy but all that does is have me tracking her around with me eyes like a goddamn stalker.
“Dude, no one is saying it’s a bad thing. She’s super hot. Sometimes you can’t help but stare at her.” Denki says with a smirk on his face. He’s goading me. “ but you know what’s better than staring… touching. I might just run over and give her a big old hu- woah dude. I’m kidding calm down.”
My hands grabbing the front of his shirt and I can feel the sparks about to start flying from my hand. Then I feel a soft hand on my forearm and the effect she has on me is immediate.
I cut my eyes over and catch her smiling at me and just like that the sparks stop because I’ll be damned if I ever do anything that might end up hurting her.
“Kats… what have we said about hurting our friends….. they may be stupid but that doesn’t give us a right to kick their asses right???” She’s speaking slowly like she’s trying to talk down a jumper.
“Yea Kats. Don’t beat up your friends.” Denki’s smug voice caused my hand with his shirt to clench a little tighter.
“Denki dude. You’ve gotta cut it out before he murders you.” Eiji says that like he’s trying to help but the asshole is also snickering.
Then the hand on my forearm slides up my arm, across my chest and ends up wrapping around my neck and that’s it. She’s got me.
“Come on bub. I’m hungry, let’s go get food. Leave the evil men to cause chaos amongst themselves.” Then she’s pulling me away and all I can do is follow.
I turn my head quick tho and shout, “watch your back dunts face. I still owe you an ass whoopin!”
“Yea yea lover boy.” And his friends chuckle behind him.
And that’s what i am now isn’t it? It’s what she’s turned me into. A man so deep in fucking love that all she had to do was say the word and I’d fall to my fucking knees for her.
This shit is so embarrassing🙄
Katsuki Masterlist
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{Fake It Like You Love Me} Azriel x Reader x Xaden Riorson x Cassian
*slowly creeps up from the depths of hell* Heeeeeeeey, glad you guys remember I still exist 😭😭 First off, THANK YOU for 600 followers. That's insane and I don't deserve you all so thank you so fucking much. SECONDDDD, here is another part of my Fuck Away The Pain series!! Sorry this has taken me so long to do, but I think you for your patience. As always, let me know what you think and feel free to drop a request if you have any!!! Enjoy! Title and series inspired by this song.
Part 1: {Show Me Where It Hurts}
Part 2: {Dirty Little Curse}
these do not need to be read in order to be enjoyed!
Word Count: 7,630
Warnings: Smut. Like... an alarming amount of smut. ACOTAR x FOURTH WING, Dom/Sub, MMMF, use of the nicknames "pet" and "sir", oral (M and F receiving), pet play, degrading, praise kink, choking, spanking, cum eating, unprotected sex.
Tagging: @lees-chaotic-brain @thelov3lybookworm @needylilgal022 @librafairy @cyrygher @agent-anna @blessthepizzaman @bubybubsters @highladyofterrasen7 @annabethgranger123 @acourtofbatboydreams @thatacotargirl @berryzxx @throneofsmut
Summary: It is just after the legendary snowball fight. Azriel, Cassian, Rhys and Xaden are in the sauna while you, Mor, and Feyre are inside the cabin. Once Rhys leaves, it seems that there is a vacant spot that needs to be filled.
~~~~~
“So, explain this to me again?”
“Every year, they have a snowball fight. They just keep going and going and going until there’s a winner,” Feyre explains. “This is the first time you and Xaden are here so I think they’re taking it easy.”
From off to the side of the cabin, we hear a shout and then a chorus of laughter.
“Maybe not,” Mor says, peeking out the window. “Cassian just decked Riorson in the face.”
I giggled, sipping my warm tea and curling my legs under myself. “Probably made fun of Cassian’s hair or something. Called him a wet dog.”
“You know damn well that animal will come in here and shake like one too.”
“And after the sauna? Yuck, it’s going to smell for ages in here,” Mor shakes her head.
“The sauna?”
Both of them stop dead in their tracks, exchanging a knowing glance. Feyre looks at me with a twisted smirk. “You don’t know about the sauna?”
“Should I be afraid?”
“Definitely,” Mor grins, setting down her cup. “After they get done, they all go into the sauna together.”
“Naked?” I dare to ask.
“Terribly so,” Feyre adds. “A few years ago, on my first trip to the cabin, I got Rhys kicked out because… well, he just couldn’t stop thinking of me.”
I damn near choked. Then I burst out laughing. I can imagine it. Rhys, Azriel and Cassian sitting in the sauna together. It must be some sort of rule they have. If one of them gets a little too hot and bothered, they’re out. But the thought of them all in there, Azriel and Xaden sweating… does some pretty magical things to my brain.
And the space between my thighs.
“Gods you are just as bad as they are, Yn,” Mor fake gags, coming to sit next to me. “Don’t get too excited. None of us have ever been in, and none of us ever will.”
“Really? That’s kind of shocking, honestly.” There hasn’t been one exception? “I know Cassian is a bit of a…”
“Male whore?” Mor fills in the blank. It makes me giggle.
“I don’t quite know everyone well enough to make those assumptions, but Cassian definitely gives off a certain… aura.”
“Oh please, he’d take it as a compliment,” Mor smiles, playing with some of my loose hair. “But no, not even him. Now, what I cannot believe is how you ended up with both Az and Riorson. That is truly a work of art.”
I can’t help the smile that blooms onto my face. “Some are just more blessed than others.”
Feyre barks a laugh, “I’ll say. You got lucky with those two, you know.”
“I know. We’re not like– together together, but they take very good care of me. I honestly kind of like it. It's all the best parts of a relationship without having to worry about if everyone is getting enough attention. They give me what I need, and I give them what they need.”
“Have you ever asked for more? To be in a real relationship?” Mor asks, curiosity getting the best of her. Feyre smacks her in the shoulder. “Ow!”
“Don’t be insensitive,” the High Lady reprimands.
“Don’t be silly,” I wave them off. “I’ve thought about it, but I don’t think that’s what I want. Sure, being in love is great and all, but why complicate it? We work flawlessly together right now, why change? If either of them brings it up, I’ll be open to the idea. But for right now I’m thriving. They are far too generous anyway. They constantly bring me gifts or invite me out to dinner. They’re doing enough for me. Far more than enough.”
“Not to mention the world's best sex,” Mor wiggled her eyebrows at me. “What’s it like with the two of them? Are the rumors of the Illyrian true? What about Xaden, is he packing too? Gods I bet he is, isn’t he? Now, I am the last Fae in Prythian who’d want to be taken by two males, but… for the both of them? I might reconsider. Tell me, does Az-”
“Cauldron boil me,” Feyre sighs. “I’m getting a drink.”
“Ooh! Will you bring me-”
“No,” Feyre scolds, heading into the kitchen.
“Crony bitch.”
“I heard that!” Feyre shouts from the other room.
Mor and I share a laugh, snuggling in close together. “This is so fun.”
“Isn’t it?” Mor says, “You’re always welcome back, Yn. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Az so relaxed. He looks… happy. And I can’t vouch for Riorson but he looks like he needs this too.”
“Yeah it’s been a stressful couple weeks for Xaden. There was a huge issue in his homeland and he nearly lost his life. His dragon is bonded to someone else in his squad, and her dragon almost died. It was scary. I’m just glad he’s okay. On the flight up here he was giving me all his strategies on how he was going to win.” There’s a loud cackle from outside and the sound of bodies running into each other. I looked over the back of the couch, seeing Xaden at the bottom of the pile, snow being shoveled into his face. “Guess they didn’t work so well.”
“They’re probably done now,” Mor explains.
“Sauna time?”
“Sauna time.”
The door opens and the four males clamber in, shaking snow from their hair and clothes.
“I’m gonna get you back for that Rhys,” Xaden grins, evil intent behind those onyx eyes.
“I’d like to see you try. Hey Mor, hi Yn. Where’s Feyre?” Rhys pats the top of Mor’s head, offering me a kind smile.
“In the kitchen!” She calls, the High Lord following the sound of her voice.
Cassian makes a b-line for the couch, shaking his head like a mutt. Mor squeals, I just shut my eyes and take the damage. When I open them, he snickers and sits on the floor, sighing loudly. “And that makes 181 wins for yours truly.”
“Then he must have cheated,” Mor gags, wiping off Cassian’s grime with the bottom of her shirt. “For fucks sake Cass you stink.”
“I’m a hard working male,” he begs to differ.
“Only thing you’re working is gonna be my foot in your ass,” Mor chides, standing up. “I’m going to shower, I smell like a dog.”
“You wish you smelled as good as me. Sorry to catch you in the crossfire, Yn.”
“It’s all good,” I smile, rubbing the few drops I got off on my sleeve.
But the look on Xaden’s face when he comes to sit next to me reflects anything but. He’s got a scowl directed at Cassian, but he makes quick work of masking it, planting a kiss on my cheek. A moment later, Azriel does the same thing.
“Should you be sitting on the couch?” I ask. Xaden’s hair a soaking wet mess, his clothes more the same.
“Trust me,” Azriel chimes in, “There have been far worse things on this couch.”
I blink at him, wondering if I would need to burn my clothes after this. He plops down next to me, slinging an arm over the back of the couch behind my shoulders.
Cassian looks between all three of us. Clearly seeing the size difference and taking notes about it. “I should probably keep my mouth shut.”
“That would be wise, brother,” Azriel grumbles, stretching out his legs. “Where's Rhys? Im fucking freezing and I wanna go in the sauna.”
“He’s in the kitchen with Feyre,” Mor said, rounding the corner from the washroom. She clearly didn’t shower, but she smelled much better. “And we all know what happened the last time the two of them were left alone here.”
“What happened?” Xaden and I asked at the same time.
“Nothing,” Azriel, Cassian and Mor responded in unison.
The dragon rider and I shared a look, a silent promise to ask Az about it later. We had a nice evening planned, dinner with everyone, and then they were going to let Az, Xaden and I spend the night in the cabin. We’ve never been here before today so it was a generous offer. I can tell how much this place means to all of them.
No one needs a vivid imagination to get an idea of what’s going to happen later.
“Fuck him,” Cassian pushes to his feet, binding his hair back with a strip of leather. “Come on, let's get started. He can decide later if he wants to join.”
Cassian and Xaden head out the door, but Az stays seated next to me. “Having fun?”
“Of course,” I reassured, patting his thigh. “Mor and Feyre are very kind. And this is a lovely cabin.”
“Good, I’m glad.”
“Looks like you two had a lot of fun,” I smile, resting my cheek on his damp shoulder. “You smell far better than Cassian.”
“Naturally,” Az smirked. “And yes we did. Xaden needed it, you needed it. It’s always just been the three of us every year, but it felt right to have Xaden here in the mix. You too, obviously.”
“Glad I could make the cut,” I joked, receiving a pinch on my ear.
“Brat.”
“That’s not even close to me being a brat and you know it.”
“Don’t I ever,” he grinned, covering my mouth with his. Despite the chill coming from his body, his lips were warm and soft. Full of life, vibrance, and need. “By the sound of it, Rhys won’t be joining us in the sauna. We won’t be in there long, will you bring us some towels around four?”
I looked at the analog on the wall, the hands reading 3:22pm. I nodded, “Sure.”
He curled my hair around his fingers before standing, following the other two outside.
In the meantime, I hung out with Mor and we talked about random stuff. She tried to get more details about Az and Xaden, but I wasn’t willing to give them up. We played a few card games, had a snack and a glass of wine before she winnowed off the mountain and back to Velaris to meet some friends at Rita’s.
Just as I was curling up with a book, I felt a cool whisper circle my wrist. A strand of Azriel’s shadow wrapped around and around in a never ending bracelet. I smiled, looking at the clock. Just seven past four. I head for the closet, grabbing three thick, soft tan towels.
Damn, it's cold out here. How do they not freeze to death? I carefully step in their footsteps so my toes don’t get frozen off. There is a little stone path to the sauna and I gladly jump from stone to stone. With the towels under my arm, I knock on the door.
“I brought your towels, they’ll be out here on this chest,” I shouted, unsure if they’d be able to hear me through the thick wood paneling. There was a small jut out from the roof over the door, ensuring they wouldn’t get covered with snow.
“Will you bring them in?” Xaden calls.
I skidded to a halt, damn near knocking myself over. Did he just say what I think he said? “I thought no females were allowed in the sauna?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Cassian’s voice boomed. “We just need the towels so our bits don’t freeze off. You can close your eyes if you’re scared.”
Scared? I wasn’t scared, but I didn’t particularly care to see Cassian sprawled out with all his glory on display. Well, okay that's a complete lie. Ever since I first saw the Lord of Bloodshed, I thought he was… well… hot. He’s tall, all thick muscle and confidence. He knows he’s hot shit. I’d imagine if he were a closer friend that confidence might piss me off, but I think he’s funny. He knows what he’s got and he’s not afraid to show it.
“Are you going to bring them or not?” Xaden shouts.
Oh. Right. The towels.
I take a steadying breath and push open the door. A wave of humid, damp air blasts me in the face, instantly melting the flecks of snow on my hair and lashes. There isn’t a light save for a few windows to let some ventilation in. It's dark, but I can make out the three figures. Azriel and Xaden are to the left, and Cassian is to the right.
I keep my eyes on my boys and place towels in Xadens open arms. “Thank you, my dear.”
“Of course,” I smile, carefully avoiding any glimpses of Cassian in my peripherals. Just before I can reach the safety of the outdoors, Azriel’s hand wraps around my wrist, gently tugging me in front of him. His other hand curls around my hip, pinning me still. “Yes, my shadow?”
He all but purrs at the nickname. “Stay.”
Stay. Stay? As in… in here? With him and Xaden and Cassian? “You guys enjoy your time together.”
I tried to take another step, but he sat up, gripping my body to keep it positioned between his powerful legs. I trailed my eyes down his torso, seeing a bit of a surprise waiting for me. “I told you to stay.”
Heat flooded my body, a different heat than the one coursing through the sauna. I quickly glance at Xaden to see him exchanging a glance with Cassian across the way.
“I- I wouldn’t want to kick Cassian out just because you want me, Az. That’s rude,” I say, my breath hitching when he slides his hands under my thick wool sweater. He rakes his nails down my back and I momentarily forget that there is a third set of eyes watching.
“I don’t think Cassian would mind the show, would you, Cass?” Azriel looks around my torso at the Illyrian, and I have to force myself not to do the same.
There isn’t a verbal response from him.
Az roughly grips my hips, forcing me to sit down in his lap. His mouth attaches to mine before I can make a sound. I flinch momentarily when he bites down on my lip, his pace fast and aggressive. The sauna is silent save for the sound of our lips meeting.
Sweat begins to swell around my hairline, trickling down the back of my neck. He removes my sweater and tosses it towards the open door. I wasn’t wearing a bra, and the hot air coats my bare back. Azriel breaks the kiss, latching onto my neck and collar bone.
“Az,” I say, already breathless. “Wh-What are you doing?”
“Are you telling me that you’ve never thought about Cassian before?”
Shit. SHIT.
“I- well I didn’t- not in the way you think I would’ve I was just-”
“That certainly didn’t sound like a no, Yn,” Azriel looks up at me, a knowing glint in his eye. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”
“I- I didn’t think… I would’ve never thought that-”
“You have five seconds to tell me to stop. One.”
“Azriel I-”
“Two.” He pushes me back to my feet.
My knees buckle and it’s an effort to keep myself upright in the sweltering humidity. “Why would I have thought that you and Xaden would want-”
“Three.” He stands, towering over me.
I huff in annoyance. “Azriel, stop counting-”
“Four.” Az makes me take two steps back, advancing on me.
“Xaden will you please fucking-”
“Five.” His fingers wrap around my throat and push me back. Directly into Cassian. A second set of hands find their way onto my body. Cassian grips my hips, keeping me from falling. I am deathly still. I hardly breathe. I don’t dare make a noise. “You’d like it if Cassian joined, wouldn’t you?”
I don’t respond.
“She looks petrified,” Xaden points out very matter-of-factly.
“I like it when she’s scared, she obeys when she is. Isn’t that right pet?”
One word. One stupid nickname and I’m under his spell. Fuck, of course I want Cassian to join. I haven’t ever seen him without clothes, but he doesn’t leave much to the imagination. “I- I umm-”
“Just admit it and I’ll let you go,” Azriel demands, tightening his fingers for emphasis. It’s nowhere near a dangerous amount, but it makes my breath hitch.
“Yes yes,” I rush out, senses on fire.
“Yes what, pet? Come on, you know the rules. If you want Cass to join you have to tell him.”
Azriel releases me, and if it weren’t for Cassian holding me up, I would’ve keeled over. The combination of the restricted airflow and the density of the heat in the sauna was going to make a lethal combo.
And I craved it.
I quickly slipped under, fully ready to play with the three of them. I gently turn and look down at Cassian. His bronze skin is shining with sweat, hair still bound behind his head. I take a deep breath, swallowing. “Would you like to play with us, Cassian?”
His eyes dilate, tongue darting out of his mouth to wet his lips. “I thought you’d never ask, darling.”
Relief floods me and I smile. I am so thrilled he said yes. I look over at Az and Xaden, waiting for their command. I desperately need them to tell me what to do. This is already so overwhelming in the best way possible.
“Why don’t you be a good girl and welcome Cassian, okay?”
I don’t need to be told twice. Like he knows what I was thinking, his knees spread apart, inviting me in. I sink down to the floor and stare up at him through my wet lashes. “Messy or clean?”
A grin spreads across the Illyrians mouth. “Oh, she’s good. Messy, darling. I want to see you ruined.”
Cassian’s finger separated my lips and I sucked on his thumb. He pressed down on my tongue, and I swirled it around his digit. Meanwhile, his other hand fisted himself, and I couldn’t help but take a glance.
Cauldron boil me alive–
I delicately reach a hand out and replace mine with his. The warrior's head falls back and he shuts his eyes. My hand is so much smaller than… well, every part of him. I stroke up and down, gently thumbing the small slit at the tip. A few drops slide down onto my finger and I generously lick them off. He definitely tastes similar to Az, but nothing like Xaden.
The moment my tongue circles him, he cuts loose a moan deep from his chest.
“Fuck you’re so warm,” Cassian lifts his head, taking in the sight of me taking him in. I swallow around him, drawing more sounds out of him.
“I think what makes it so good is she loves doing it. Don’t you, Yn? You love being stuffed full,” Azriel comes up behind me, his presence stealing my breath away. Maybe it’s the added heat that makes my head dizzy. “That’s right, work him all the way down. Get him nice and deep.”
I push and push my head all the way down his cock, taking a moment to stay still, just emphasizing exactly what I can do. Cassian laughs at me, full on laughs. A mocking sort of sound that spreads goosebumps all across my skin. He bucks his hips, really testing how far he can push me.
“Oh, she’s good,” he grunts, head tipping back again. “Keep that perfect mouth moving, darling.”
My ears are ringing a little. Whether that be from the heat or the sheer overstimulation, it’s hard to tell, but I didn’t react right away. The next thing I knew, one of Azriel’s hands was fisting my hair, the other braced at the back of my head. I nearly choked when I was ripped away and then slammed down onto his cock a few times.
“You heard him, Yn. Take his cock like the good slut you are,” Azriel reprimanded. He continued to overpower me, making me work up and down on Cassian. I let my jaw go slack, along with my hands braced on Cassian’s thighs. I let out a content sigh as I was fucked on Cassian’s cock.
I rocked with Azriels movements. His grip singed my scalp and an ache formed in my jaw. It was familiar, ignorable, but present nonetheless. I was glad to have them doing all the work, it was far too hot in here to think clearly… even without the added exertion.
When Az decided I got the memo, he let go of my head and I continued the motions with steady practice. I closed my eyes, feeling every drop of sweat on my body. My thick, fleece lined leggings were beginning to soak through. Xaden’s calloused hands found their way to my waste and began to slide them off. With a pop, I pulled off of Cassian, giving my jaw a much needed break. Xaden peeled them from my legs, taking my underwear with them. But, before he let me sit back down, he laid down on his back, beckoning me to ease on top of him.
“Surely you’ll suffocate, it’s already unbearably hot in here,” I huff, catching my breath.
“Then I shall go doing what I love most,” the dragon rider replies. “Sit.”
I looked to Az, silently asking if this really was a smart decision. He just gave me a pointed nod with narrow eyes, a promise that if I didn’t listen he’d make working for my release miserable. So I obeyed without a second thought.
The moment his tongue curled into me, I sighed. Aimlessly, my hand worked tentatively up and down Cassian’s shaft, drawing a few sounds out of the General. “Let me fuck your throat, darling.”
There must’ve been a sparkle in my eye because I grinned, opening wide for him to do so. His length was thick. Almost too thick. And long. Fucks sake everything about him was big. I was up for the challenge. As it hit the back of my throat, I relaxed, letting his hands fall around my ears. It was gentle at first, his thrusts long and even. I moaned in tandem with the licks I was receiving from Xaden, my mind a melted, scrambled mess of ecstasy. With a particularly hard suck on my clit, I jerked the opposite way Cassian was going.
“Ah ah ah,” he chided, clicking his tongue. “You don’t get to run away from me. Take what you’ve been given. Be a good fucking girl, Yn.”
I glance up at him, throat too full to make any noise. A third set of hands– Azriels, so experienced and commanding, settled on my breasts, plucking and pulling. I could feel everything and nothing at the same time. My entire body was numb with pleasure, numb with exploration of the three of them.
Azriel. Xaden. Cassian. All three of them, the most powerful warriors of their respective worlds, all focused on one thing. One goal.
Me.
Cassian picked up his pace, the thrusts less deep, but far more firm. It was clear he was chasing his high, thick veins beginning to bulge in his arms… up his chest… in the column of his throat.
“She does such a good job at taking it,” Cassian praises. “Doesn’t gag, doesn’t complain. Look at all those pretty tears. All for me, darling? Do I fuck you so good you need to cry? It’s okay, I’ll lick them clean. Then make them spill down your neck again when I get to fuck your pussy.”
My heart thrashed in my chest, thighs shaking with the force of Xaden’s tongue against my core. I writhed my hips, breathing harshly through my nose every other thrust because that’s all Cass would allow. At some point Azriel’s hands left the mix. I couldn’t see him anywhere, but his presence remained. Those shadows replacing his skilled fingers.
My body was wound tight. I was already anticipating a fun night with just Azriel and Xaden. But now? With Cassian? A new fire had been set ablaze inside me. And it needed– no, demanded, to be let out. I tried to warn Xaden, I tried to ask for permission, but I couldn’t with Cassian’s grip on my head. I fiercely moaned, hips shaking so badly that Xaden had to lock me in place.
“You can let go,” Azriel commanded from somewhere behind me. I silently thanked him.
Like a crack of lightning, my release barreled through me. I came so hard my vision whited out, a faint ringing bounding between my ears. Moans of pure pleasure spilled out of me and right onto Cassian. The extra vibrations must’ve done wonders from him because his grip faltered, as well as his pace. His head slumped forward and his eyes rolled shut.
“Fuuuuck, whatever you’re doing to her, Riorson, you better not fucking stop. Keep her moaning like that. Fuck I’m gonna cum so hard. Want it, pretty pet? Want my cum down your throat, filling your belly?”
He released my head, bidding me to give a verbal answer. After what Xaden just did to me, I’m not sure that’s physically possible. “P-Please, sir” I sigh out, my voice in an atrocious state already. “Wanna make you feel so so good.”
The use of ‘sir’ must’ve really done something to him. He sat up, a corrupt, unforgiving smile creeping onto his cruel lips. “Sir? That’s a dangerous game, my darling.”
“She doesn’t mind a little bit of danger, does she?” Azriel grips my hair again, pulling my head back so I have to look up at him. I nod carefully, the strain in my neck almost too much. “Yes she does. Now get to it, I'm getting impatient.”
Bad things happen when Azriel is left uncared for. And who was I to make him suffer?
I stuck out my tongue, a silent beg for Cassian to slip back in. He did without further coercion. The first time my nose brushed the soft hair on his pelvis, I could’ve sworn it was an accident. The second time, I realized it wasn’t. I couldn’t breathe, a small panic settling in every crevice of my body. I tried to keep calm, but between a relentless Xaden under me and a ruthless Cassian in front, it was near impossible.
“F-Fuck fuck fuck fuuuucccckkkk,” Cassian shouted, the muscles in his thighs and abdomen flexing. “Gonna take it all? It’s gonna be a lot, can you handle it, darling? Yeah I think you can. I’ll make you either way. Stay niiiiice and still for me- oh fuck-”
At the last second, he pulls me off about an inch and the humid, sweat filled scent of air floods into my nose. I drink his release down. It’s thick and warm, salty and abundant. I hum around him as I swallow and swallow and swallow. My eyes fill with tears yet again and they escape down my cheeks.
Cassian shudders. With gentle laps of my tongue, I clean him up. He watches me attentively. I can’t help the smile that forms on my lips when our eyes meet.
“You…” he breathes heavily, chest swelling and falling. “You are a little devil, aren’t you?”
The Illyrians hand wraps around my throat and he pulls me to my feet, and off of Xaden. The way our tongues met could’ve moved mountains. He was not shy in showing how much he wanted me. I melted into him, straddling his thigh and letting my arms drop to my sides.
Azriel played with my hair, hands caressing my ass. Together, they brought me down, content to let me relax for a few minutes.
“You did so well, pet,” Azriel cooed, dragging his tongue over the shell of my ear.
“So fucking good,” Cassian murmured against my lips. “Such a good little girl.”
I could hear Xaden climb to his feet, the sound of his hand stroking his cock loud in the otherwise quiet room. “I will never, ever, get tired of making her cum on my tongue.”
“Should I have a taste?” Cassian asked, placing small bites on my throat.
“I actually had something else in mind,” I sighed out, getting lost in all the hands and tongues. He gave me a curious look, but I just smirked, easing onto shaking legs and turning around so my ass was in Cassian’s lap. “I want to play a game.”
“A game?” There is an obvious hint of danger in Cassian’s voice? “What kind of game?”
“I want you and Xaden to fuck me, and I want Azriel to tell you when to move and when to stop.”
I haven’t yet brought it up to Azriel and Xaden, but I’ve always wanted to do this. A game of red light green light. To give full control and power to him, making us work for our pleasure. I look at Azriel, gauging his response, but he just grabs my chin, bringing our faces level.
“Yeah? You wanna play a game? Want to be treated like a literal pet? Taking commands and performing tricks?” His voice is thick with desire, so low only we could hear it.
My heart skips a beat. I hadn’t thought about it like that before. But the idea is… it’s-
“Look at her face, Cass,” Xaden tilts his head mockingly. “She wants it so bad, don’t you, pretty girl? Would you like a collar, that way if you get lost they know who you fucking belong to? Gods she’s so red. Don’t be embarrassed, pet. We know just how much you love being fucked full of cock and cum.”
“Sit on his dick, Yn,” Azriel orders. “Now.”
Silently, I hover over his lap, letting Cassian guide my hips. At the first press of his tip, I gasp. A new thrill thrummed through me.
Azriel comes and stands in front of me, cupping my cheeks. “I know he’s big, but you’re gonna take all of him. And you’re going to like it because you asked for it. So, here’s your first trick. Sit.”
The Shadowsinger pushes on my shoulders, leaving no option but to take Cassian all the way. All. The. Way. My breath is lodged in my chest with no room to escape. I can’t think. Can’t hear. Can’t see. Can’t even begin to process what is about to happen.
“Oh, good girl Yn,” Xaden praises, still stroking himself. “Look at how pretty she looks, Az.”
Cassian grunts behind me, hooking my legs over his knees so the others can see him buried inside me. I cry out at the shift, feeling him go deeper and deeper. Gods, he feels like he’s everywhere.
“Cassian, why don’t you play with her nipples,” Azriel instructs, walking back and forth in front of us. “Xaden, give her something to suck on.”
“With pleasure,” Xaden grins, those onyx eyes narrowing on my mouth. I go to protests, but then I realize just how hard he is. How flushed his skin is. And I need to taste it, to relieve him of his torture.
He traces my lips with the tip, coating them in his slick. With a heady pant, I stick out my tongue to invite him in.
A hand cracks down on my thigh. I scream out, more in shock than in actual pain. Azriel’s hand was the culprit.
“Did I say you were allowed to taste it yet?” His eyes are swirling with lethality. I bite my tongue to keep myself from saying something stupid. “Well?”
“N-No,” I say meekly. “I’m sorry. May I taste it, Az? Can I please taste Xaden?”
After a minute of letting the question hang in the air, building suspense, he nods. Greedily, I take Xadens hips and bring his cock towards my mouth.
It’s such a glorious sound to hear when Xaden curses low. A deep rumble in his chest letting me know this is exactly what he needed. Without moving– fearful I’ll get another smack– I look at Az, awaiting my next instruction.
“Fuck her throat, Xaden,” Az says, eyes scanning out bodies. “Start fucking her nice and slow Cassian. Really savor her, make her moan just like Xaden did for you.”
At the same time, both of their bodies start sliding in and out of me. They find a rhythm instantly: Cassian fucks me forward onto Xaden, and Xaden fucks me back onto Cassian. It’s easy enough to let them do all the work, my bones and liquid at this point anyway. All I know is pain, pleasure, and unfiltered need for these males.
I moan deeply as Cassian hits that spot inside me. Xadens hip stutter, his head tipping back as Cassian hits it over and over again.
“Does that feel good, Xaden?” Azriel asks, gripping his hair at the root, whispering right in his ear. “To have our girls' mouths all around you?”
The dragon rider nods as best he can with Azriel’s grip. “Fuck yes.”
“Make her stop.”
“W-Why?”
“Because I told you to. Yn, stop,” Azriel demands. I instantly pull my mouth away from Xaden, even if it makes me want to scream and thrash and beg for it back. I need it, need to taste it, need to feel him cum down my throat. “See, she listens to me. Do I need to punish you too?”
“No,” Xaden shakes his head. “I’ll listen.”
“Yes you will.” Azriel gives a fake smile. “On your knees.”
Xaden sinks to his knees.
“Suck on Yn’s clit. Make her cum on Cassian’s cock.”
The sight of Xaden, on his knees, cock leaking continuously, does something to me. It gives me ideas for later. He helps push open my legs, even when the first brush of his tongue makes me see stars. Cassian has to wind his arms around mine to keep me from sliding off. I know he’s strong, but to be able to hold me still and keep fucking me is…
“Good boy, Xaden,” Azriel praises, brushing his hair away from his face. “Just like that, make our pretty girl cum.”
It’s not going to take long. His laps are so soft, so gentle, and it works far faster than I’d like to admit.
“Az- Az can I cum?” I ask, just to be cautious. I do not want to have this taken away from me. I can’t have it taken away from me.
“Yes, pet. Cum as much as you want.”
It’s like music to my ears. It’s building and building. In my core, at the base of my spine. Behind my eyelids. It’s fucking everywhere. My vision goes white and an embarrassing noise tears from my soul. I writhe on Cassian, driving him further and further inside me. Sweat is dripping off me in buckets. Fuck it is so fucking hot in here.
“Very good Xaden,” Azriel says. “What a good boy, making our pet cum so well. You can stuff your cock back down her throat. She looked so sad to see it go. Go ahead and cum, fill her up nice and full. Cassian, get up.”
Suddenly I’m on my feet being steadied by several pairs of hands. The way Cassian is looking at me, the way he’s breathing, tells me I’m in trouble. The glances passed between Az and Cass worry me. The next thing I know I’m on my knees and elbows, ass up in the air.
“Sit on the floor, Xaden,” Azriel commands. “Right in front of Yn. Yup, there you go, now just let Cassian fuck her onto you.”
A shudder runs through my entire body when Cassian slips back in. I swiftly take Xaden down, mainly because if I don’t I’m going to go crazy. The delicious, sweet taste of him fills me once again and I hum in content.
“Don’t hold back Cassian, chase exactly what you want. Fill up her pussy as much as you want, she can take it.”
“Fucking hell, Az. Are you trying to kill me?” Cassian chuckles, letting his motions pick up pace. Every snap of his body into mine sends waves of pleasure down my spine. It rolls through me and allows me to take even more of Xaden in my mouth. “I’ll never get over just how fucking tight she is.”
“Malek spare me…” Xaden curses. I get to watch Xaden fall apart and a new thrill fuels my motions. I lose all concept of time, I have no idea what is going on. All I know is Cass is fucking me like his life depends on it, and that Xaden is holding on for dear life.
I suck as hard as I can, pressing my tongue into the bottom side of his cock. I can’t pay attention to the most sensitive areas of him, mainly because Cassian if fucking me too hard to let me. Hopefully I can make him see stars anyway.
“F-Fuck Yn, I’m gonna cum,” he warns, knees falling open. “Oh fuck I’m gonna cum.”
“Give it to her, Xaden,” Azriel kneels beside Xaden, hand trailing over the muscles in his chest.
I watch the muscles in his abdomen clench with every breath. He scrunches his eyes closed and I brace for him, letting his hips rut as fast as he wants. With a long, drawn out growl, Xaden releases down my throat. I do my best to swallow it all, but between the angle and Cassian's relentless thrusts, I let a few drops spill out.
Xaden is throbbing on my tongue, his sounds of pure pleasure fill my ears, filling me with deep satisfaction.
“Can’t fucking take it anymore,” Azriel rips me off of Xaden and takes his place. I’m hauled up onto my palms, Azriel’s cock bobbing in front of me. Before I can take it between my lips, Azriel bends down to my level, licking the droplets of Xadens cum off my lips.
I went as still as a statue. Tingles spread from the tips of my fingers to my toes. I watched him swallow, his Adam's-apple bobbing. I was at a loss for words. If he wanted me to speak, it’d be impossible.
Thankfully I didn’t have to. He filled my mouth, not wasting a second.
“Xaden, will you go grab those towels?” Azriel asked, hands trailing over my shoulders.
“When I can move,” he responded, making the Shadowsinger and the General laugh. I swore I could feel the rumble of his laughter through his cock.
“Not gonna last much longer,” Cassian warns, adjusting his grip on my hips.
“Wait.” Azriel urges, “Give me one minute.”
Cassian stills, and I whine in discontent. A second later, his hand smacks my ass, undoubtedly leaving an imprint of his hand. “Don’t complain, pet. Or you won’t get anything at all. You should be grateful to be stuffed full of our cocks. That’s no way to disrespect a guest.”
Azriel is unforgiving as he fucks my throat, his pace fast and hard. To be fair, he has been waiting a long while for his turn. It doesn’t take long for him to start showing signs of nearing his high. He grabs both sides of my sweat-soaked head, and I feel drops from his own body–and Cassians–land on me.
“Want my cum?” Azriel asks, pulling me off. “Want me to cum down your little throat, pet?”
“Yes yes yes,” I slur my words together. “Please gimme all of it, need all your cum. Wanna taste you so bad.”
“Yeah you fucking do,” Azriel’s grin is sinister. He knows exactly what to say to make me squirm. “Drink it all up, slut.”
When he finally gives me what I want, I don’t dare waste a drop. I leave no mess to clean up as he cums all the way down. There’s nothing I can do but swallow, swallow, swallow.
I begin to lose some consciousness, the heat and over exertion finally catching up to me. I feel Azriel slip out, praising me and telling me how good I did. I think I nod, but Cassian resumes his motion and I forget about everything. I can only focus on him pounding into my pussy, getting so deep I have to let out little noises every time he does.
“She’s so fucked out,” Xaden says from… somewhere.
“Yeah she is, she looks so good. Limp and used. So fucking hot, Yn,” Azriel agrees.
I moan in response. It’s about all I’m capable of at this point. And it feels so good. Everything they did to me, every thrust from Cassian feels like I’m floating. I close my eyes and let him finish me.
As Cassian lets go, I feel him pin my shoulders to the ground, ramming his hips as hard as he can into me, filling me up nice and tight full of his cum. There's a big stretch, and then an almost immediate release. His warm slick flows out from around him and down the inside of my thigh. Tears or exhaustion and pleasure streak down my cheeks and fall onto the wood floor of the sauna.
Eventually, I’m laid on my back. I can barely open my eyes, but I feel a tongue lapping between my legs. I try to inch away, but firm hands keep me from closing my legs. I whine.
“Ah ah,” I hear Cassian chide. “He’s just trying to clean you up. Be still. Here, drink this.”
A cup is pressed to my lips and I hungrily drink down. The salty, briny taste is washed from my tongue and my blurry vision begins to steady. I look down, seeing Xaden between my legs, his curly head soaked with sweat.
Cassian’s thumb brushes my cheek, collecting a small tear. “Aww, poor baby.” I watch as he licks it from his digit. It… gets me going faster than I’d like to admit. Then his tongue trails the length of my cheek. I shudder, letting out a tiny squeak. “Told you I’d lick them clean.”
“Alright that's enough, Xaden,” Azriel says from up above. “Let’s get her inside and cool off.”
“I just couldn’t help it, her pussy looked so good full of cum,” Xaden winks at me, and I can feel a flush of my cheeks and neck. “Even after all we’ve done together, I still make you blush.”
“Zip it,” I glared at him, failing to keep my smile at bay.
Cassian lifts me up, hugging me close to his chest. We’re all covered in sweat, but I don’t give a fuck. I just want to take a nice bath, curl up with my boys, and sleep into next week. A cold burst of air greets me as we step outside the sauna.
“Is she doing okay?” Azriel asks. I think it’s him that brushes hair away from my face.
“Mhm,” Cassian responds, giving my body a squeeze. “She's gonna be alright?”
“Yeah,” Xaden added. “She always recovers really well. She’s not afraid to tell us what she needs. But by this point we know what she needs.”
“My only request is a bath.”
“See?” Xaden chuckles, then plants a kiss on my head. “Feeling okay? Not too lightheaded?”
I make a noise that sorta sounds like an ‘mhm’, but it kinda comes out as a garbled mess. All three of them give a laugh.
“That was… more fun than I thought it was going to me,” Cassian sighed contently, padding down the hallway to one of the bedrooms. I'm set gently on the bed, propped up against Cassian. I am way too tired to open my eyes, but my ears track them all around the room. I can smell the soft lavender wafting from the bathroom. Hallelujah.
“Yeah, I’m glad you joined,” Xaden agreed, his fingers beginning to braid sections of my hair. “We’re just waiting on the tub to fill up, pretty girl. Then we’ll get cleaned up and go to bed. You did such an amazing job, taking us all like that. And the game? We’re going to have some more fun with that, aren’t we?”
“Yes we are,” I nodded, peeking open my eyes to find them all huddled around me. Azriel smiles sweetly, cupping my face, stroking his thumb back and forth across my cheek. “Hi.”
“Hey,” he whispers. “Feeling better?”
“Yeah,” I nod, clenching my hands to get some of the tingling to go away. “It was so hot in there.”
“We even turned down the heat before you got in there,” Xaden explained, tucking some hair behind my ear. “Did you have fun?”
“I always do, did you?” I asked, looking up at Cassian.
“In the beginning I was a little unsure but… now I’m hoping you’ll send word any time you wanna play again,” He grins, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “You were unbelievable.”
“Isn’t she something else?” Azriel looks at me fondly. “Baths ready, want to be by yourself or do you want one of us in there with you? Or… well, I guess we all can fit if that's what you want.”
“Well I’m certainly not going to wash my own hair,” I grin.
They all share a look, smiles creeping onto their mouths.
“I’ll get the shampoo,” Azriel winks.
“I call the conditioner,” Xaden stands, following Azriel into the bathroom.
I can’t help but laugh.
“Are they always like this?” Cassian watches as they root around in a cabinet, smelling the different bottles.
“Yes, they’re too kind to me.”
“I think it’s well earned,” he smiles, helping me stand. “Come on, let's go.”
I let him lead me in, making sure I get a good look at his ass. Damn. just… damn.
“I could ask Feyre to commission a painting, it’ll last longer,” he says cockily.
I give it a smack. With a helping hand from Azriel, I sink into the tub, and let the water cool off my skin. I lean back, wondering how I got so damn lucky.
#acotar#acotar fanfiction#acotar fanfic#azriel#azriel shadowsinger#fourth wing#azriel x reader x xaden riorson x cassian#xaden x reader#azriel fanfic#azriel x reader#azriel acotar#xaden riorson#fourth wing fanfiction#fourth wing fanfic#fourth wing smut#acotar smut#cassian x reader#cassian acotar#azriel x reader x xaden riorson#smut#my writing
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Listen, I know it’s not my usual thing, but I just re-read Dark Matter by mysterycyclone (iconic, so good, incredible, I’ve reread this at least ten times) and this newer work, Help Me, I Don’t Feel Like Myself Anymore by Astra_Nova_Kat (it’s off to a really good and fleshed out, very long start- it’s like 20k for the first chapter omg).
I just. Love?? Them??? They’re both, urg, so good. The writing style, the way the story moves, the natural progression of plot and their usage of tropes are so well done that rarely does it feel awkward. Amazing. Anyways, they inspired me to put my two cents into the proverbial offering hat and while this might not ever be a realized fanfic, here it is? This will have multiple parts.
Uh, I’m basing Peter’s personality off of the really tired millennial energy Tobey Maguire gives, the awkward but well meaning disaster vibes of Andrew Garfield, and the sassy acrobatic chaos gremlin of Tom Holland. All kind of mushed together with the hyper competence and maturity of both the PS4 spidey and pretty much most spider people. He’s 22, or something but that doesn’t really matter?? Background doesn’t really matter because I’m basically making my own spider-verse. Spider… past? Eh. New Peter!
Spider in Gotham AU- Pt.1
[Pt.2]
——
Spider-Man swung through the skyscrapers of his city, enjoying the winds and sounds of New York as he kept a sharp eye out for crime.
He remembered doing this without any of the fancy tech his suit had now, when he was dressed in less protective clothing. God, 100% cotton while crime fighting? The spandex was better but god ugly.
His spider-sense blared. Spider-man quickly shot a web to the top of the building, going towards the danger instead of away from it.
He goes in feet first, years of knocking common thugs to legitimate gods to the ground making short work of the people on the roof top. He flips out of the way, dodging a blast of crackling green energy.
“Heyyyy, common robbers! What’s up with shiny lasers, huh? Breaking and entering not doing enough for ya?”
Spider-Man dodges a couple more shots, flipping again to knee a guy in the face, gently. The man goes down in one shot.
“Stay still, you motherfucker!”
“Does that actually work for you guys?? Like I’m down to get killed but, man, I’m not gonna stay still to get downed by some two bit thugs?” Spider-Man kept his words light and mocking, webbing up a laser gun and yanking it out of the woman’s hands. He punches her in the face and knocks her out, using the laser gun like a mildly bulky baton.
“Eat shit, Spider-bitch!”
“Ouch! Oh no, my feelings! You’ve hurt them!” Spider-Man shoots a web at the lady who’d shouted and yanked, before smacking her straight down to the concrete of the rooftop. His hearing picked up two people coming up the stairway and Spider-Man tossed two web bombs, the metal mechanism attached itself to the wall, waiting for their unknowing victims.
Spider-Man ducked and weaved, downing goons as they piled on him while shooting bullets, lasers, and just charging at him with a bat or a crowbar. After eight years of pretty much this exact thing, Spider-Man had gotten the science of breaking up goon dog piles without hurting them too much to an exact measurement. He quipped at them until they got annoyed, which made them sloppy. Spider-Man sighed as another guy came at him with a crow bar and a gun that he was pretty sure was still stuck on safety. He crouched, kicking out their legs and dodging a swipe of a bat where his ribs would have been and webbed the guy to the floor. Yeah, he’ll wrap this up and end patrol. Maybe he still had Mac n’ Cheese at home, or he could stop by Angelo’s for a sub?
Huh. His options for dinner was limited.
“Take this!”
Even without the forewarning of his spidey-sense, Spider-Man would have ducked out of the way regardless.
“Shouting your sneak attacks isn’t actually all that sneaky, you know!” Spider-Man kept his voice cheery and mocking.
“Get him!”
God, why were there so many people trying to break into an insurance company? This definitely doesn’t smell like a regular B&E. With the shit he’s seen in New York, if it smells like a plot, acts like a plot, then it’s probably a villain with a tragic backstory with big, annoying plans.
Great.
Oh, speak of the devil!
“Spider-Man.” His senses blared.
He couldn’t move out of the way fast enough, not without risking the life of the goon he was currently fighting, so Spider-Man took the blast the punched the breath out of his lungs. The wide eyes of the goon made up for some of the pain.
“Ugh!” Spider-Man slammed into an HVAC, denting the metal. His suit, made special polymer blend from Wakanda that he saved for months to get, absorbed some of the shock. Shit, he hoped it didn’t tear. It would be a bitch and a half to dip into the back up stock he had in his hammer space.
The goons left standing quickly rushed him and held him down to face the new boss.
“You’ve been getting on my nerves, Spider.”
“Yeah,” Spider-Man coughed out, letting the two goons think they could hold him down on his knees as he recovered his breath. “I have that effect on people.”
“But you could be an asset, if you’d join me?”
“Uh, I don’t join or sign things without knowing what I’m joining or signing, my guy. My lawyer said so.”
The villain paused, helmeted head cocking to the side.
“You have a lawyer?”
“Yeah. Kind of? He does pro-bono work for the helpless cases. You know, like, a well meaning, crime fighting vigilante?”
“…Does he do cases against insurance companies?”
“Oh man, you too? Dude, this place sucks,” Spider-Man sighed.
“You’ve had trouble too? Then you must see why I’m doing this!”
This was a bit weird, but if there’s anything that brings people together, it’d be corrupt insurance companies. He’s almost tempted to let them break in, just to be extra petty.
“Nah, my neighbor? Sweet old lady. They’re screwing her out of her entire place. I totally get it, man. Hey, if you need a referral, you can tell my lawyer that Spider sent you. He’s real good.”
“How good?” The goons release him and Spider-Man stood up, stretching his limbs.
“Like, Dare Devil good.”
“You know Matt Murdock??”
“Sure do.”
“He… he’ll take on our cases?”
“Dang, all of you?”
“Yes. We can pool enough money to pay him for one or two.”
“Nah, I’m pretty sure he’ll take you guys on for free. But it wouldn’t hurt if you all went to meet him, just so he can decide which one of you has a higher chance to win in court?”
“We will. Uh.” The villain paused sheepishly. Well, not a villain, more like an unfortunately angry and poor decision making citizen. “Sorry about… you know, the blast.”
“It’s cool. I mean,” Spider-Man gestured to the rooftop, the bodies of unconscious people kind of laying around where he knocked them down. “You guys might wanna check on them, yeah? I’ll let you go for now, but if you commit a B&E again, I’ll leave you webbed up for GCPD to find.”
“Got it. Sorry.”
Feeling good about himself, and plotting corporate espionage, Spider-Man went to help pry some people from his webs.
And of course, because Parker Luck kicks in only when Spider-Man felt like life was looking up for himself, Spider-Man’s senses blared once more as he knelt down to pull at some webbing.
“Oh, shit!” He heard, right before a cold blast of something slammed right into his head, knocking him out.
And Spider-Man
F
E
L
L.
——
Larry looked at the the empty space where Spider-Man, the guy who took a hit from his boss’ blaster so he wouldn’t get hurt, used to be.
He twisted.
“Boss, what the fuck?!”
“Shit! That was accident!” Boss pulled herself up from the concrete, where she just ate dirt.
“Where did he go?”
“I don’t know, Larry! That was the experimental warped mode! Crap!” His boss scrambled with the controls, desperately trying to see if the magic gun her magician friend had handed her years ago had a reverse button. It didn’t.
“Why would you bring a test weapon into the field?!”
“I gave you all of my other ones!” She threw up her hands. “Fuck, I feel so bad.”
Larry paled. “Dude, Dare Devil’s gonna kill us.”
“He doesn’t kill!” His boss hesitated. “I think.”
Larry pointed to the empty space. “Yeah? He might start with us. Spidey was a cool guy and you just disappeared him!”
“I know!”
Larry buried his head into his hands and tried not to hate himself for the entire situation.
——
Spider-man woke up, laid flat on the grimy ground of an alleyway.
“Ugh. Just my luck.” He kept his eyes closed for just a beat longer to allow himself time before having to pull his shit together. Why was his voice high? And a bit squeaky? He pulled himself together.
“Okay.” He whispered to himself, before sitting up and taking stock of the situation.
First thing that hit him was that it stunk to high heavens. Gagging, Spider-Man looked to the right and- yeah, that’ll do it. He stood up on wobbly legs to try to move away from the overflowing dumpster.
That’s when the second, more important and decidedly more troublesome, observation hit him.
He’s short. Shorter. And his suit was hanging off of him.
He could tell he still had his normal by now physiology, with the speeding heartbeat and the feeling of super strength. But he’s shorter. With a mounting sense of equal parts dread and resignation, he pulled at the hidden seam by his nape, relying on his both his enhanced senses and spidey-sense to tell if anyone was nearby or looking at him. He pulled the Spider-Man suit off, blankly folding it neatly as he stared dumbly at his hands. They’re small too. Shit. He stumbled to a nearby mud puddle and stared down, seeing his younger face in the contaminated water. Double shit.
He’s starting to loose his composure. He’d gone through a lot of bizarre things over the last eight years. But getting accidentally Detective Conan’ed by a person he just helped was a new low.
The black under layer of his suit, a slash proof and fire resistant polymer Peter had designed himself in MIT’s lab, was in a similar state.
With one hand, Peter Parker numbly rolled up his sleeves and pant hems. Great. Okay. Now what?
Ah. Shoes. He did not want to walk around in his too-big Spider-Man boots. He looked around. Well, there’s the laces of what looked to be like a pair of dumpster shoes. “Yeah, no.”
Shit. Does he still have access to his hammer space?
Peter reached into his pocket, and tried to reach for a pair of normal sneakers. His shoulder slumped as he produced a pair. Fuck yes. He still has access! And shoes! They’re ones he took off of a power line for a well off kid who didn’t want it anymore. He was going to donate them to F. E. A. S. T. but he’s thanking the stars he procrastinated a bit on swinging by the center. He put them on. They’re a bit big, but it’s better than the giant-in-comparison ones he normally wears. You know, as an adult.
He hesitated with his mask. He should at least figure out where he is. He hoped it was still in the states. His mask blinked, the HUD in his lenses informing him that it was trying to find a connection. “That’s weird.” He paused, grimacing at the sound of his voice. But it is weird, because he had his mask automatically connected to the world wide satellites Tony Stark had sent circling the globe for citizens without internet access as a back up option. So either he was somewhere even the Stark Satellites couldn’t reach or…
Peter swallowed, his mask pinging as it found a connection to piggy back on. He clicked his tongue twice to activate the voice controls.
“Connect to the local maps. Where am I?”
His masked followed the order. [Gotham. New Jersey.]
Peter stared at the words, gut churning.
Good news, he was still in the States. Bad news? He’s shrunk, in a totally different state, and possibly in a different world because he’s not connected to the Stark Satellites he knew operated in New Jersey.
Peter Parker tilted his head back and allowed himself one verbal, panic level six and up, curse word.
“Fuck.”
He took off his mask and leaned against a slightly cleaner part of the wall before hyperventilating.
——
Half an hour later, Peter smacked himself on the cheeks and pulled himself together.
“You’re Spider-Man,” he hissed to himself. “Have a mental breakdown somewhere warm, you dumbass.”
Peter Parker was a champion, world class expert at compartmentalization.
He slipped his mask back on, and pulled up his “So You’re Stuck in an Alternate Universe” list he had made with Ned so many years ago when they were high school kids and going through comic books to make contingencies because Peter was a little idiot vigilante hero.
“I didn’t think I’d actually ever need this kind of thing.” Peter muttered. He slipped his black back up gloves on to connect to his mask’s display in order to type.
“Okay,” he glanced at the side by side screens in his lenses. “Money.”
Five things.
1) The emergency cash he’d stashed on him thankfull matched the pictures of cash he’d found on this world’s internet. Yay!
2) He had $1000 tucked away. Not yay. Not if this might be a long term stay before he got back to his own dimension. Not if he wanted a place to sleep.
3) Luckily, thanks to his earlier search of where the hell he was, Peter figured out that due to the high crime rates- “Dang, that’s worse than New York on New Year’s Eve,” he had marveled- Gotham was dirt cheap and that that meant 1k dollars could actually last him a while and he could afford a room for a month on $250. A whole ass apartment for $550. Peter seriously considered staying in this universe just for the rent prices. So what if there’s rampant crimes? He’d deal with it if the rent was that cheap.
4) Problem? He’s fucking tiny. Who would rent to a person that looked like child? Not anyone upstanding, that’s for sure. He’s more likely to get mugged. Counterpoint: he’s in a city where apparently shady people are all around. Also? He doesn’t have an identity.
5) If the fact that he couldn’t connect to the Stark Satellites didn’t convince him he was either in another universe or an alternate dimension, the visual graphics of the websites he visited would. It was like looking at Windows in the early way before Stark Co. bought them out and improved the design. Nauseating.
Okay, so, money’s not too urgent of an issue. Next on Ned’s list: Places of Interest.
Namely, libraries, homeless shelters, crime hotspots, and the like.
Peter snorted when he came across an opinions article talking about how Park Row became Crime Alley. And then he frowned, because that story was not painting this place to be even remotely nice. Then again, considering the crime rates and the various Rogues this place seemed to have in spades, that wasn’t much of a surprise. Peter marks the place in his new mental map of Gotham as a potential area he could either disappear to or get a new identity at. He then marked the libraries, Gotham City Public Library and its many branches all funded by generous donations from a Bruce Wayne, the Martha Wayne foundations’ shelters and charities, two supermarkets near the library, and a coffee shop he thought looked warm and cozy from the shitty pictures they have uploaded online. He needed coffee, dammit, and he needed it hours ago. Alas, he probably wouldn’t get to go to one until he secured his finances.
Well, it’s not like he doesn’t have practice being poor.
3) Which brings him up to Ned’s next, surprisingly reasonable for a teenager hoped up on a mountain load of sugar, point. Level of Tech.
Peter hid next to the dumpster, melding in with the shadows, as he continued his research.
Tech here was… well, he probably wouldn’t have to worry. The thought of not having a Starkphone, even his older model, was painful considering the new versions of these WaynePhones were really… behind. Peter doesn’t remember the last time he had buttons on his phone or let alone a touch screen that didn’t use facial tracking and biometrics or even have a holographic display mode.
“Ugh. Okay. Not the end of the world, Parker.” Peter muttered.
Now… People of Interest.
This was underlined three times with Ned’s red pens, with extensive subcategories.
Subcategory A? Villains, because “what if they put out a warning for a known villain and you get your butt kicked because you didn’t know about them, Peter? Wouldn’t that be embarrassing?”
He had replied, half focused on the list and the other on savoring the Millennium Falcon Lego set May had saved up for months to get him for his birthday, “I feel like if I was getting my butt kicked by a villain, I’d probably have better things to worry about than my utter humiliation, Ned.”
“True that,” Ned had snicked and jotted it down anyways.
And… well, Gotham had a lot of villains. The Joker (ew, that’s a crusty man in crustier face paint. This guy could learn so much from the cool mimes busking in Central Park. Like, how to do face paint. Or how not to be a massive murderous jerk. There’s Clayface, Two-Face, a bald guy in “Metropolis” (a name Peter couldn’t help but snort at because a city named city? That’s like na’an bread being bread bread. Or chai tea being tea tea) named Lex Luthor, and Scarecrow. He tabbed all of them and marked them for further perusal at a later date. From experience, he knew villains with a prominent M.O. and themes usually did more damage. Case in point: Rhino, and the million dollars of property damage the guy did everytime he escaped the Raft. Peter was seriously considering petitioning for the Raft to be placed further out just so he could have more warning the next time some assholes decided to free the prisoners and helped them escape.
He narrowed his eyes at the screen, his mask’s lenses following the movement. He’ll have to pick up a gas mask. Apparently bio-weapons are just a regular thing here and he really didn’t want to get dosed with this “fear toxin.” It’d be dangerous for everyone involved. Maybe if he gets his hands on a sample, he could build up tolerance and see how his immune system and metabolic rates affected the normal progression of the toxin. Ah, off topic. He’s gotta focus.
Subcategory B: Local celebrities.
“Why would I need to know local celebrities?” He’d asked.
“If someone came up to you and asked “Who’s Tony Stark?”, wouldn’t you clock that as super weird? You gotta blend in, Peter. Plus, you gotta keep up with the pop culture, dude. It’s important.”
“You just want alternate universe memes,” Peter grinned.
“That too. If you ever go to an alternate universe and come back, you’d better bring me a truckload of memes or I’ll never forgive you.”
Yeah. So. Wayne? Super important. Like Tony Stark levels of important. He found threads about them and the local vigilantes and their charity works. Peter’s brain instantly catalogued the info, all but memorizing the deluge of pictures he found of Bruce Wayne and his kids. Maybe the man had an adoption problem? Conspiracy threads and memes popped up alongside his research. He tabbed one on secret societies, because as Spiderman, he had fought a disturbing amount of secret societies that, on hindsight, had been theorized about on threads he’s read on his free time. Somehow, somewhere, somewhen, a conspiracy theorist could be right. Peter’s not about to dismiss that. He also saved like thirty different memes to send to Ned when he got back. If he got back.
Peter smacked that thought away. He’ll get back to his city or die trying.
Subcategory C, underlined and starred: Other Superheroes and Vigilantes.
Yeah, Peter’s excited about this one too. After Matt stopped being Dare Devil (but did he actually ever stop?) and Wade dipping in and out of NY, Peter’s gotten lonely as Spider-Man. He missed training with them. Of course, the fantastic four were still operating, but he doesn’t actually interact with them or the Avengers at all. Miles hasn’t been cleared (by his mom) to go out as Spiderman with near as many hours as Peter cleared a night. Peter stood behind that because he remembered how horrible it was to work as Spiderman and try to balance school on top of it. Also, he was terrified of Mrs. Morales and would never endanger her son more than he already does. He did wave to Black Widow from a rooftop once, spider to spider, and that was pretty much the coolest moment of his life.
So. Uh. The amount of vigilantes and heroes in this world? Amazing. In Gotham? There’s like, a whole team of them.
Batman, Nightwing (who, Username: Draken Draken had theorized, was the first iteration of Batman’s sidekick Robin), Red Hood, Black Canary, Huntress, Red Robin, Spoiler, the “day vigilante” Signal, the current Robin, and whispers of a “Black Bat.”
And their unfortunate “No Meta” rule with the singular exception of Signal. Peter figured their term of Meta was essentially the same thing as his world’s mutants. He’s not sure which term he liked more. Eh, he’ll worry about that later.
And there’s a Justice League! Which, to Peter, is just a bigger Avengers. There’s aliens on this world too. Superman. Martian Manhunter.
Peter grinned from his place crouched next to the dumpster. Yeah, this is awesome. He quickly memorized everything he could find, cross referencing posts and picking out the nuggets of truth or at least popular truth from the posts he viewed. Like, Red Hood operated in Crime Alley and was a crime boss with morals. Cool.
He’ll go down the spiral later. He mentally thanked Ned who was the best guy in the chair a teenage vigilante could ask for. He should really text his friend when he got back.
For now, he’ll head to the library and see if he could use their computers. He might need a card though… Peter quickly pulled up the search engine and found an Internet cafe. Ah, 24 hour internet cafes, the savior of his college days. There first, and then library, Peter decided. He memorized the instructions and pulled his mask off, tucking it away in the hammer space.
He walked out the alley and turned left, only to double take at his reflection in a shop window that was partially boarded up. Holy shit, he’s a baby. He’s like. 10!
Oh my god.
Peter twitched, tearing himself away from the window before the shop owner decided he was less curious and more potential mugger before promptly remembering that he looked less of a threat than ever. Mixed feelings.
Peter hurried his way to the internet cafe, paying the guy at the front a little extra so he’d ignore the obvious minor without a guardian thing Peter hasn’t gotten used to. Ugh. That was going to be annoying. He only paid for two hours and pulled up as many listings for a room as possible. By the end of it, he came out with $1 worth of fliers printed out and having funneled some billionaire’s offshore accounts into a new bank account he’d made by hacking into the bank servers. Does he feel bad about stealing? Yeah. But Peter’s a vigilante. He’s done worse than nabbing a monthly sum of a couple of hundreds from Lex Luthor’s off shore accounts. He’s not gonna get caught, and considering the guy’s rants on meta humans, Peter’s not feeling particularly guilty about it. He’ll do something good later to make up for it. Once he gets his footholds and can prepare his way back, he’ll even return to the rest of the money. Probably.
Peter left the cafe with his sheaf of flyers, stopping by an informational stand with free tourist maps and plucked one quickly from its plastic holder. He’ll pick something up from the food vendors on his way to the apartments. Peter began walking, taking in the sights of the gargoyles and-
“Nope!” He caught the wrist of a pickpocket. It’s a kid and he immediately felt bad.
“Lemme go. I ain’t done nothing to ya, ya Yorker tourist.”
“Okay,” Peter shrugged. “Don’t get caught the next time?”
The kid gaped at him. “Shi’, you must be really good at it. I’ve never been caught before.”
Peter wisely refrained from telling the kid it was due to his spidey-sense. He let go of the kid’s wrist and let a bit more of his accent out. “Why’d you need money anyways?”
“Food, duh.”
“Dude, I’m starving. Tell you what. You show me the best sub shop nearby and I’ll pay for your food. Deal?”
The kid stared at him, wide eyed. “You’re fuckin’ nuts. Why’re you being nice?”
“I’m hungry? Do we have a deal, kid?”
“… Fuck it. Fine. And don’t call me kid, shrimp. You’re like what, eight?”
Oh. Yeah. Peter’s a kid now. He shrugged.
“I’m older than you. I’m twelve.”
Peter blinked, frowning at how thin the kid’s wrists were.
“I’m Peter!”
“… Frank.”
He let Frank lead the way. Stranger danger doesn’t apply to him, he’s a grown ass man. In the body of a ten year old him, but still. A couple of minutes, four sandwiches and a load of chips later, Frank was watching wide eyed as he demolished three four dollar subs.
“Holy shit. Where are you packing that away? You’re a stick!”
Peter took a big bite of the sandwich as an answer. Frank looked down at his meal.
“Uh. Hey.”
Peter made a muffled noise of question, mouth stuffed full of steak and cheese.
“Sorry about. Uh. Trynna nick from ya.”
Peter chewed faster.
Frank continued, looking like he hated himself. “I wouldn’t… normally steal from shrimps like you but I was desperate and… really hungry, so. My bad.”
Peter finished chewing. “All good, dude. Eat your sandwich.”
Peter had the sudden urge to adopt Frank. Unlike Wayne, he’s not a billionaire, so he smacked that urge down. He could use a friend though. Now… how to be friends with a literal child!
“If you feel that bad about it, you could… be my friend?”
Peter took in the wide eyed gaze from the twelve year old in front of him. Abort! Abort! That was too direct!
“You’re fucking weird. But… okay.”
“That was easy.”
Frank scowled, kicking Peter’s shin.
“Ow!”
“Whatever, shrimp.”
Peter scowled. On his baby face, it came out as a pout.
Do not start beef with a twelve year old, Peter. You’re a grown ass adult.
“Hey, you know I’m new here, right?”
“Duh.” Frank took a bite of his food.
“Can you tell me which one of these are legit?” Peter handed Frank the flyers. He took them, an odd look passing his face.
“You’re looking for a place?”
“Yeah? Why?”
Frank stared at him. Looked back down. He instantly got rid of four listings out of the ten. “These are too close to the Alley. They’re probably traffickers.”
Peter hummed in agreement. Frank paused.
“You’re just gonna trust me on that?”
“Yeah? I can tell when people are lying.” Well, his spidey sense could, when he cared enough about the subject.
“What the fuck.” Frank shoved the rest the papers at him and guiltily munched on his food. “Are Yorkers all just like you?”
“Dunno? Probably not.”
“… Whatever. The rest of the places should work. They probably won’t ask questions.” Frank flapped a hand at Peter’s new situation. Yeah, the shortness was getting to him too.
Peter nodded. Obviously, they were the more expensive places, but considering the new found resources he’d… acquired during his time at the cafe, it doesn’t really matter.
“Cool! Wanna go see it with me?”
Frank immediately took on a suspicious glare. “Why?”
“I dunno? You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought since you know your way around…”
“Ugh. Fine. But if there’s anything shady, I’m fucking dipping out.”
“Okay!” Peter grinned for the first time the couple of hours he’d been trapped in this new world.
——
They’d found an apartment with a landlord that got a weird, sad face when she was talking to them about the apartment. After like, an hour of walking around and Peter’s spidey sense screaming at him not to even go near the places Frank had left in the pile of maybe’s.
“We walked all the way here. Ya not even gonna go in?”
“The vibes are off. It’s a no.”
And because Peter’s a genius idiot with no self preservation, he’d marked the places to investigate later.
Frank had blinked at him, mildly offended and nonplussed. After a while of spluttering, he just gave up. Eventually, they got here.
“I don’t normally rent to kids,” the landlord lady said. Peter immediately liked her. “But I’ll make an exception if you’ve got the cash.”
“I’d like to see the unit first, please” Peter said. He’s not stupid, and Gotham’s renting scene is both easier and harder than New York.
They toured it. Peter? He’d seen worse. He’d lived worse. Also, it had two bedroom and was $620. Yeah, Peter was really considering just staying here full time and commuting to his New York when he wanted to be a vigilante.
“I’ll take it, ma’am.” The landlord and Frank both snorted, sharing a Gothamite look.
“It’s Georgie, to you, brat. You just need the first month’s rent, since I’ll wave the deposit for you shrimps. Utilities included. Your friend stayin’?”
“No-” Frank had started.
“Yep!” Peter beamed, interrupting his new friend.
“What?” Frank turned, gaping again at this weird little kid who had enough money to rent a place and then invited a whole ass street kid he just met to live with him. “Are you stupid?! What if I rob you? Huh? I don’t need charity!”
Peter slowly looked around the empty unit.
“Uh.”
“No, that’s not the point!” Frank pointed a finger at Peter. “That’s how you get yourself killed!”
“But that’s why you should stay! I don’t know my way around Gotham so…”
Peter looked up at Frank, using his shortness for maximum devastation. “Please?”
Georgie leaned back on the heels of her feet, silently laughing. It’s not every day she sees a Gothamite street kid get out stubborned by an outsider, but she knows better than anyone that Gotham is weak to genuine kindness. And this Peter kid, the one that reminds her so much of her own? He’s practically filled with it.
“Yeah, kid,” she said to Frank, snickering. “Look at him. He’s gonna get mugged two steps into the Alley. Or anywhere.”
Frank flailed, but eventually, Peter handed over the money to an amused Georgie who gave them two keys in return and a move in gift of a pot pie.
“I gotta. Uh. Go get my stuff.” Frank had mumbled, dazed at whatever the hell just happened.
“Okay! I’ll see if I can go get furniture!”
“And lift them with your shrimpy arm? You wish.”
“I can use a cart.”
And really, he could, because Gotham had a lot of abandoned carts laying around. Like a concerning amount.
“Can you even reach the handle?”
“I’m not that short!”
Frank snorted, Georgie’s own chuckles following a beat after. Peter scowled at them.
“Be right back,” Frank promised, holding the key like it was treasure. He had been homeless for two and a half years now, so in his eyes, that key was as good as gold. He had somewhere warm to stay. Trying to pickpocket Peter was the best mistake he’s ever made in his short life. But he didn’t want to take advantage of that, well, no, he did want to, but he doesn’t want to take the genuine kindness for granted so he’ll see if there’s any street furniture he could haul back on his way.
“Okay!”
Georgie watched him go and turned to Peter.
“If you need stuff, there’s a thrift store and a grocery store that way.” She gave him the directions.
——
As soon as Frank and Georgie left, Peter immediately left his new place (and holy shit, he really didn’t expect things to be this easy. In New York, he had to spend at least a week checking out places because he had to figure out whether the problem that cause subtle twinges with his spider sense was worth living with. Here? It’s too obvious.) to buy supplies. He had $400. Until his new card came in, at least. He’d put his new address into that bank account addressed to a “Anthony Benjamin” before ordering a “replacement card.”
Peter ran to the thrift store, hurrying before the last traces of the sun dipped below the smog of Gotham. A frankly absurd amount of blankets, towels, pillows, clothes, packaged boxers, socks and shoes around his size went into the cart. To his chagrin, Peter couldn’t actually see much over the cart. Why the hell was he such a short ten year old? He blasted through the store, also guesstimating Frank’s sizes. He tossed in curtains, a used set of glow in the dark stars, and a lamp.
He also grabbed mismatched mugs, bowls, a bundle of cutlery, and a dented microwave he casually pretended to struggle getting onto the bottom part of the cart. It’s like lifting grapes for him, but he looks like a ten year old so…
He, guiltily, bought a mildly fancy camera in a set, with two separate lenses, even if one was cracked.
Not bad, for $150 total. Peter is going to definitely seriously consider commuting to New York. They didn’t even care when he walked out with the cart! Well, that might be because of the cashier who gave him a pitying glance.
He stopped by a general store on the way back, parking his cart in a rapidly shadowy alleyway. He swung by the new section of the store that reminded him of a Dollar Tree and got cleaning supplies, toiletries, and two pans and a pot. He grabbed some canned food and a couple of frozen meals in the back. Seasonings, ramen, general pantry staples went in. A role of paper towel. Nice. Venom would have loved this store. With half of his budget blown for essentials, Peter quickly cut his spending off and
He quickly gathered his stuff and went back to the apartment, using his strength a bit to lift the full cart up the stairs at the front doors and into the elevator. It creaked like the first time they used it to go see the apartment, but it worked. Peter set everything up in the living room, pillow and blanket wise, and put everything in its proper place. The lamp was put up, giving more light than the old bulb in the ceiling light.
All Peter wanted to do was pass out, but since his dumbass took in a child, he couldn’t sleep until this place was relatively fit for a kid to live in. He also wanted to wait for
So, that’s what he did. Taking a sponge and the cleaning supplies he’d picked up earlier, Peter tackled the living room, scrubbing away at old stains and spraying mildew. He marked trouble spots- like that splinter worthy piece of floor next to the doorway leading to the hall between the bedrooms. Then the kitchen. By the time Frank cautiously peeked his head in from the front door, Peter had already finished scrubbing the over.
“Hey.”
Peter turned, grime on his face but grinning. “Hey!” I bought some stuff!”
Frank snorted at his face before glancing around the living room, eyeing the cart parked neatly on the side.
“So you did. Didn’t get mugged, did ya?”
“Rude. No, of course not.”
Frank gave him a… frankly… unimpressed look and dumped his bag next to the pile of blankets and pillows Peter had piled onto the floor. Sue hi’, they didn’t have beds yet.
“Got somethin’ for ya,” Frank said neutrally before dragging in…
“A coffee table!” Peter bounced towards Frank, hugging him before lugging in the heavy wooden table in. “You’re the best! Where’d you find it?!”
The tension, anxiety about Peter’s reaction, in Frank’s shoulders relaxed and the kid grinned. “Alley. Some asshole just left it there for anyone to hit with their car so I took it.”
“Nice! We can eat on this!”
——
When they were getting ready for bed, Peter insisting on showers for both of them, Frank had reared up at the clothes Peter bought for him. Peter pretended like he didn’t see anything and shove a whole tube of toothpaste and a new toothbrush at him.
“Ew. Do I have to?” Frank asked, wrinkling his nose but taking the items anyways.
“Yeah.” Peter said seriously. Frank gave a moment to wonder why he was taking orders from an eight year old before shrugging. He could brush his teeth in exchange for a roof over his head, food, and clothes. It’s not even a fair trade, for Peter, anyways. Frank was enough of an alley rat to take advantage of that.
——
When Frank passed out, Peter couldn’t sleep. He’s exhausted, but he couldn’t sleep.
So he took his new camera and climbed the fire escape to the roof top.
An hour later, he met his first vigilante.
“Hey, kiddo. I’m gonna need you to back away from the edge.”
“Woah!” Peter startled, jolting slightly off of the ledge he was balanced on. He twisted around to see Red Robin, hand outstretched and panicked look in his eyes.
“Dude. Warn a guy!” Peter said, even though his spider sense warned him of an approaching person that was actively watching him.
Red Robin held his hands up. “My bad. Would you- uh, not be on that ledge?”
“Yeah, sure. My bad, bro.” Peter obligingly stood up and stepped away from the ledge. Red Robin relaxed then did a double take. Peter frowned. Is there something on his face?
“What are you doing up here, kiddo? It’s late.”
Peter decided to scope out the vigilante. “Couldn’t sleep,” he held up his camera. “I’m taking pictures.”
“Oh. That’s cool! Can I see?” Red Robin approached warily, but relaxed when Peter didn’t spook and try to take a shortcut to ground floor.
“Sure! It’s a new, well, not new but new to me, camera so I haven’t had all that time to mess with the specs but the pictures turned out pretty good-”
“Oh, woah. This one’s great. That composition? Amazing. You caught the light perfectly,” Red Robin complimented. Peter brightened, knowing a photography fan when he hears one.
“Photography buddy!” He cheered.
They talked for an hour after that, but Red Robin quickly sent him to bed once he remembered the time.
“Ah, shi- crap. It’s like 2AM. You’ve gotta go to bed.”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry if I interrupted your patrol, Mr. Red Robin!”
“No problem, kid.” Peter slipped back down the fire escape, not caring if the vigilante saw where he lived.
——
Up on the rooftop, Red Robin pressed a hand to his comm.
“Red Robin to Nightwing.”
“What’s up, Red?”
“Do you have a kid you don’t know about?” Tim said, bluntly.
“… What?”
“Oracle, can you share my cowl footage?”
“Copy. Oh, that kid…”
“Looks exactly like Wing?” Tim said, peering down at the empty fire escape. “Yeah. Talked like him too.”
“Oh my god, he’s adorable.” Oracle said. Tim agreed. That curly hair? Baby face? Adorable. A bean. “Did you get DNA?”
“Ah, shit, I knew I forgot something.”
“Do not break into his place and nab a hair,” Nightwing reprimanded, but his voice sounded distracted.
“Holy shit, you guys nerded out about camera placement and lighting for an hour?” Hood piped up.
“Get some rest, Red Robin. You’ve been working too hard,” Batman grunted through the comms. Awkward… but he’s been getting better at communicating his worry for his kids.
“Sure thing, B. Heading back to the main cave. Red Robin out.
——
Peter: lay low and get home
Also Peter: talks to a vigilante
None of them think Peter’s Nightwing’s yet. Peter will know before them… eventually. Once this world’s version of him gives up his memories to be absorbed by AU Peter.
#batman#peter parker#dc x marvel#Peter Parker gets yeeted into Gotham#spiderman#oc#red robin#dark matter#inspidered by the fic dark matter#yes that’s a pun#dick Grayson#nightwing#dick grayson is Richard Parker#richard parker#Oracle#Jason Todd#red hood#tfw you get conan’ed#Peter: making friends one roof top at a time#Spider in Gotham AU
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Happy Christmas Shana! May I ask for some Merlin and Arthur? Maybe the time travel Ygraine one, or something else entirely 🎁🎄🎅🏻
Queen Ygraine is cursed to die during childbirth and the baby is stolen from his very crib that same night.
Uther rages. The grief and the fury of losing them both leave him a broken man and a broken king. The grounds of Camelot turn to mud with all the blood he's spilled and the air turns grey and harsh from the burnings. He sends knights to every corner of his kingdom, but his son remains missing, not even a body to be found.
Tristan and Agravaine de Bois send letters, blaming Uther for their sister and nephew's death and proclaiming they are subjects of Uther's no more. It's a blip in torrent of grief - Uther can't even pretend to mourn the loss of his brothers in law in the face of that of his wife and son.
"I still think we should have killed him," Tristan says, watching the servants pack up the contents of their manor with a scowl.
"He would have killed you and then I'd be stuck doing this alone," Agravaine replies, a blond, blue eyed infant in his arms. "So our revenge will have to wait."
"Alone?" Nimueh scoffs. "Thanks. Is this not revenge enough?"
Tristan softens, reaching out to brush the back of his index finger against Arthur's chubby cheek. "He's not revenge. He's our nephew."
Agravaine briefly tightens his hold on the babe before relaxing. "Where are we going? I suppose Mercia is the obvious choice."
"That old man won't be able to help gloating to Uther and we don't want him giving us a second glance," Tristan says. "Cendred's kingdom is a better choice, I think. That's our where our grandfather's castle is anyway."
The two of them plus a sorceress should be more than compelling enough additions to his court for Cendred to relinquish it back to them. Or at least turn a blind eye when they take it back themselves.
~
Merlin is fourteen and standing by his mother's side, keeping his head down and not moving or thinking or looking or anything as the lords come to collect taxes.
No matter what they say, no matter what they do, he's not to move.
There's cries of pain from the smith as one of the lords kicks him down, shouting at him for how little they have. He's the most educated man in the village, he's the one that keeps track. He's the one that warns them how short they are.
They are especially short this year.
There's the sound of sword being unsheathed and Merlin resists the urge to bury his head in his mother's shoulder. He's not suppsosed to move.
"Oh, for goddess's sake," a new, young voice says. He doesn't sound that much older than Merlin. "This is a waste of time. If you cut off his head, will gold coins fall out?"
"We're here to collect taxes!" he insists.
The young lord scoffs. "And if we were sent to squeeze blood from a stone, how long would you spend with your hands pressing into bedrock? Look at them!"
"We can't just let them get away with it," he argues. "If you're father hears about this-"
"He'll hear about it because I'll tell him myself," he says, annoyed. "We could take everything they have and we'll still lose money when they starve to death and we have to send people to bury the bodies or risk disease settling in. The wages for those soldiers will cost far more than everything this little village has to offer."
"They're on our land, they pay the tax!"
The young lord's voice goes hard. "I think you'll see that they're on my father's land and it's ultimately his responsibility to collect taxes for the king. Which means this is decision, not yours."
"Yes, and he decided that-"
"Well I'm deciding differently and he can yell at me about it then!" he snaps. "Put your sword away before I draw mine."
There's a tense, heavy silence. Then there's the sound of a sword going back in its sheathe and, "Yes, Lord de Bois."
Lord de Bois sighs and then raises his voice so his voice carries travels to everyone standing there, to the whole village standing there and waiting. "I'll return within the week. If there's any sort of bookkeeping you have, gather it for me."
"Y-yes, my lord," the blacksmith stutters.
There's the sound of footsteps then hooves.
He lifts his head and only sees the back of the young Lord de Bois's blond head.
Merlin wonders if when he returns, he'll be allowed to look.
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You are enough
heyy! this is my first one shot so it is not the best but feel free to give any tips!
arsenal wfc x teen!reader
warnings: mentions of violence, bruise, angst, sh, a few cuss words, suicidal thoughts, protective awfc and fluff in the end. Please remind me if I have forgotten some! (don't read if you get triggered)
(not proofread so if any mistakes give me a heads up)
word count: 2144
enjoy!
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Being a 16 year old professional football player is not the easiest thing in the world. Yes, you do what you love everyday but it has its up and downs. I signed for arsenal 3 months ago but I had no idea it would be that difficult. I don't feel like I belong here, all the girls on the team are truly amazing don't get me wrong, but it is so hard living up to the standards. Especially when I am me, just me and only me. I don't feel enough
After my alarm went signaling me to get ready for another day of training, the thought of going to training today dreaded me, and it has for weeks. Silence, I lay in my bed in silence just thinking of all the bad things that can happen today. If you are wondering where my parents are, the truth is. I live alone, yes, alone as a 16 year old in England. My parents has never supported me playing footy, not even when I was little. They wanted me to have a career that was meant for "girls" and not "boys", but that sounded bizarre. Football is for everyone, but they don't seem get that into their head. My parents kicked me out when they found out I signed for Arsenal, we lived in London, but since I got kicked out I had to get an apartment for myself. It was pretty hard but my best friend helped me and I am so grateful thankful for her. I have not told the team about me living alone for 6 months, they would go all protective and wanting to know why but I can't tell them, not yet. I don't want to be judged. Saying to the girls that I got kicked out of home, even thinking about it makes me feel so embarrassed and ashamed of myself.
I lay in bed, in pain. Physically and emotionally. Last night, after I was out grocery shopping I took the metro home as always, when a man probably doubled my age walked over to me. I then realized that it was my father, he dragged me into a corner and asked me if I still was into all that "football shit". I got furious and started whisper shout at him, turned out that was not the best idea. He started going about me being a disgrace to the family, not only the family but the world, that no one is ever going to love me for playing football, and then he punched me right in my cheek. I felt thrilling pain in my face, but he grabbed my wrists hard and said in my face "You useless bitch, no one cares about you and never will".
That sentence goes through my mind over and over again. I was almost impossible to fall asleep last night, because of the pain I was in both physically and emotionally. What my father told me, got to my head and I was thinking. Maybe he was right, I am a disgrace, no one will ever love me, maybe if it would be better if I just disappeared.
Well, well. Got to get up for training and stop thinking. Seriously y/n, get your shit together...
I walked downstairs to the bathroom and got dressed and tried to cover the bruise on my cheek that now has gotten all blue, yellow and purple. It was really painful and very difficult but totally worth it when I was done and I literally could not see a damn thing. Then I did the same to the bruises on my wrists and after I tried to cover up the dark bags under my eyes but that was a bit more of a job.
Suddenly I got the urge, the painful urge. I took the hidden blade from the mirror cabinet and drawed lines on my right arm. One, two, three, four.
Then I looked at the clock. Shit, I thought. The training starts in two hours and we have breakfast together in the dining room an hour before. The metro usually took 30 minutes, I packed my bag in a hurry and left.
When I walked in to the facility I heard two voices yelling my name behind me. Lotte and Alessia walked quickly over to me. "You excited for training?" Alessia asked you. "Yes totally" I said in a lie, I think they saw that I lied because it did not look like they believed me at all. "What about you Less and Lotte?" you said to try getting the attention away from you. It seemed that it worked because they said in sync "Yes". Less and Lotte looked at each other and we giggled.
When we walked in to the dining room, everyone was there. I tried to brush off all the looks I got. Why does everyone look so suspicious today...
"Come here Y/n, sit with us", Leah said after I served myself food. Leah sat with Katie, Kim, Lia, Caitlin, Steph, Beth, Viv and Kyra. I walked nervously over to them and sat down in the seat beside Beth. They started talking and I just sat there quietly eating my food being in my thoughts until Viv said "Y/n, you've been quiet, are you good". They looked at me concerned, "Me? Yes of course Im good, just sat thinking about the upcoming training today". I lied straight through my teeth. "Okay, if you're sure. but you can talk to us though", Caitlin said. I just said a quietly thank you, and then we walked to the locker room and got ready for training.
We started doing some light jog then got into some training drills. I was already sweating, it was surprisingly very sunny outside today and I wore a long sleeve training jersey because of my scars. "Aren't you hot in that", said Jen to me. I just simply shrugged her off saying no.
I was so exhausted, my body is so tired and I really want to lay down. When we had water break I just laid down on the grass. Sweating, I rubbed my face because I was so tired.
Beth and Viv walked over worriedly, they have become my unofficial parents after my transfer to Arsenal. They looked shocked when they saw me. "What" I said in a panicked voice. "Why do you have a big black bruise on your cheek?" Beth said, "And on your wrists?" Viv said. "Is something going on at home?" Viv asked with a knowing look. "No, no of course not, why would you assume that".
After training everyone looked worried and concerned, my passes and shots got sloppier and sloppier, I was hurting more and more. When I was about to leave, Kim, Katie, Leah and Jen cornered me. With Beth and Viv looking guilty behind. They brought me into a private room and they started telling me what Beth and Viv told me. Then all of a sudden Kim said "You know, all the team has been worried and concerned for a while, I can't remember how many times the girls have repeatedly come and talked to me". I looked at her ashamed. "Why do you have bruised?" Katie asked, "I just fell" I said, the lie obvious.
I started scratching because my scars got really itchy, I really wanted to just disappear right there and then. Then Leah grabbed my right wrist softly and pulled up my sleeve, the last thing before I broke down was gasps from the girls. I started trying to make up excuses but none of them were having it, "come with us" said Beth, "We will bring you to the medical room and then we want you to tell us everything". I desperately did not want to but I knew it was no chance of me getting out of this.
When we got to the medical room they put me on one of the beds. My scars were infected, that is why they itched so damn much. Jen was cleaning up my bruises while Kim cleaned up my scars. I know the people who worked here could do it but I did not want them right now, it is bad enough that now the whole team knows.
Leah then said in her stern but soft captain voice "Now tell us everything". I tried to tell her that it was nothing. What Katie said broke me "Please babe, we only want to help you. We know it has been hard for you but please". Then I broke down again, full on shaking and crying. Desperately gasping for air.
I started telling them everything, how my parents are and that they has never supported me once for the choices I have made, that I don't feel like I belong here because I am only me... When I spit out the truth about me living alone for 3 months because my parents kicked me out and that they were abusing me for years before, I saw tears in all of the girls faces. It was a heartbreaking sight. I told them how I ran into my father last night and what he did and said to me and I started sobbing again and saying silently to myself "It is true, what he said. I am a reckless disgrace full kid".
"You are enough y/nn, I promise you babe" Viv said. All of the others agree but I could not help believing my fathers words. "Actually me and Beth have been thinking for a while, we have a spare room and big enough place for 3, and you are like our kid. I am being for real, we love you as our own family. All the team does, but we wondered if you wanted to come live with us?" Viv asked me. I was hesitant and I think Beth saw that because she said "We are not taking no for an answer". I felt a smile creep up on my face and as desperate I was trying to hide it all the others saw and started smiling too. I said to Meadema, "thank you moms". I realized what I said "shit fuck, sorry I did not mean to".
"Y/nn it is okay, you have no idea how glad that made us, you are like our kid" Beth and Viv said.
After a while of me telling them about my thoughts, how I have been feeling for the last weeks, they decided to get me into therapy. We have a therapist at the facility so we agreed to be going to her twice a week. "I am grateful for all of you, I really am but I just feel like a bother" I said quietly.
"No babe stop" Jen said, Katie walked over to me, she took her hands on my head and said "You are enough, a hundred times enough". "You are like a younger sister to me, it breaks me to see you like this, not only me but all of us. We and all the team loves you. You are the baby of the team."
"We will always protect you, and we will get your so called parents locked up." Kim said to me. "Not Viv and Beth but the other parents" Jen said in a playful tone.
"That I understand" I said with a smile of my face.
Leah asked me if she could tell the other girls and the Gaffer, she needed to anyway but it was nice she asked me. I said yes then she walked outside.
A few minutes later they all came in. Kyra, being kind of like my annoying twin ran over to me and hanged on for me for dear life in a bear hug. I started explaining to them a bit more, and reassured them that it was not their fault but my manipulative parents.
I also said that I called Viv and Beth mum and that I am moving in with them and Lessi and Laura said at the same time "about damn time". All the team broke out in laughter.
"I am sorry for not telling you but I feel a thousand times better now after telling you, I have been scared and not felt at home here for a while but telling you and knowing that I can count on you girls will help me. The whole team is kind of like my family I never got and I can't ask for more than that. I am so grateful for all of you, and I love you"
"We love you too y/nn", Leah said with the softest most heartwarming smile ever. "You are our family, blood or not you will always be family" Kim said reassuring.
"Always," Katie said
"And you are enough" the team said lovingly.
#arsenal wfc x reader#woso community#lionesses x reader#arsenal x reader#engwnt x reader#woso x reader#lionesses#arsenal#arsenal wfc#arsenal women x reader#beth mead#vivianne miedema#leah williamson#leah williamson x reader#kim little#jen beattie#katie mccabe x reader#alessia russo#lotte wubben moy#woso#woso soccer#women football#arsenal women team#kyra cooney cross#laura wienroither#steph catley#caitlin foord
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Can you write Miles 42 being like really super duper protective and like controls her, he doesn’t let her go out by herself and stuff like that and is like always watching her. They argue about his over protectiveness but he could care less
Ofc babes!!!
warnings: toxic behaivor, miles being annoying, angst, references to robbery and murder, strong language, INCREDIBLY TOXIC BEHAVIOR!!!!!!, brief mention of drinking, lmk if I missed one or two
A/n: Send more miles 42 reqs pls
730 days. Thats how long you were with this man. Thats how long it's been since you got leave the house alone. Miles was very overprotective since his dad died and he saw the world for what it was. Evil and it was filled with nothing but scum. Miles determined that this world wasn't good enough for you and you needed to be "protected" and kept away from this disgraceful universe. So, he took it upon himself to protect the only two things that mattered to him, you and his mom and he did a good job at it.
Miles would walk you to school, work, home and if you needed something, he would be the one to get it for you:
"Miles baby, I can get it myself; its right outside." you pleaded.
"Nah, Mami. I don't want you outside by yourself. People are fucked up and they will hurt you." He said stoically.
"But-" you started
"Cállate, Y/n. Before I make you” he said, stepping closer
You knew Miles well and you knew to stop pressing because he would just shut down and you hated when he shut down. Miles would just put his hand on his braids and kick something before giving you the same speech:
“Y/n you saw what they did to my father, do you want that to happen to you too? Because if I let you go out by yourself, you’re at risk for that to happen and if it does or if anything or anyone touches you, I will kill them; and that’s a promise, Mami. I will kill anyone that lays a finger on you and not bat an eye. Don’t fuck with me, y/n. Stay close. Let me protect you and we will be good. Aight?"
“okay.” you would say. Miles had a way of making you seem two inches tall in these situations.
You never left his side. For two years, he would watch your every move(he put small cameras in your home. You didn’t notice until three months ago); he would take you shopping but never posted about you just in case a villain would use try to use you as his weakness(because lets face it, you’re his weakness), he would kiss you and be sweet in private but he would act hard when anyone else was around.
It was a cold winter’s day when you decided you had had enough. Your friend y/f/n(your friends name) had invited you out to a party. You had never been to one because of Miles but you decided enough was enough and you were gonna go. So you slipped on a small dress, cute heels and a jacket that made your tits look nice and left:
“I’ll be home soon!” You told your parent
“Okay, y/n. Tell Miles I said hi” they exclaimed
“Okay!” You shouted back. They knew how overprotective Miles was but they knew he was a good person overall so they left it alone.
As you walked to hail a taxi, you felt your phone vibrate:
Miles: Wanna go out?
You: No it’s okay, imma just stay in for tonight
Miles: Nah fr. Let me take you out
You looked down and debated answering the text, but ultimately decided not to. You got in the taxi and went to the party when you saw a shadow dash across the roof.
You walked into the party and greeted your friend:
“GIRL OMG YOU LOOK SO GOOD. WHERE’S MILES?” They shouted over the loud music
“He’s not here, it’s just me. Let’s go grab a drink!” You replied
“Oh Okay!!” Your friend said
As you were walking over, you could’ve sworn you saw a man that looked exactly like your boyfriend but he vanished when a man walked past. You brushed it off and grabbed a cup of jungle juice and went to dance. You grinded against your friend who caught it during the beat drop. You were having the time of your life until you checked your phone:
Miles: I know where you are, y/n. Come home or I’m coming there.
Miles: I should’ve known you’d lie to me. You’ve been acting real shady lately, wanting to go out and shit. Just wait till you get home, we’re gonna address this shit immediately.
Miles: I see you
Miles: Stop ignoring me, y/n. You know you fucked up
Miles: Imagine wearing the chrome heart necklace I got you while dancing like a slut on your friend
Your stomach dropped as you surveyed your surroundings, looking for a sign of him. When you couldn’t see him, you hailed a taxi and went home.
You fidgeted and fiddled the whole way home. The driver looked in his rear view mirror at you:
“You good, Mami?"
The name sent shivers up your spine as it was your boyfriends name for you.
“Oh! I’m fine, just cold haha” you laughed it off
The driver turned on the heat and sooner or later you were home.
You approached your doorstep and went to your room. Your parent was asleep and you walked in your room, thinking his threat was empty, until you went to shower and saw him behind the door:
“MILES” you screamed both in shock and horror
“Y/n.” he said, closing the door, encapsulating you both in the small room together
“I’m so sorry-“ you started
“you should be. What did I tell you, y/n? I do all of this shit for your safety but you continue to fight me and pull these stunts” Miles lectured as he closed in on you. Your height difference becoming more and more apparent
“Stunts? Fight? Miles I have been nothing but obedient to you which I shouldn’t even have to do if you treated me like a person instead of an object. That’s all I am to you isn’t it? An object. A doll. Just something you don’t want other people to have or see?” you argued
But your pleas and your confessions meant nothing to the man. He simply looked at you and said:
“yeah, actually.”
“what?” you said
“You are an object to me, you’re something I have to protect otherwise the world will take you from me like they did him.” Miles said, as stoic as ever
“STOP USING YOUR DAD AS LEVERAGE IN THIS, MILES. THIS ISN’T ABOUT HIM, ITS ABOUT YOU AND ME AND IF YOURE JUST GONNA KEEP TREATING ME THIS WAY, I’LL FIND SOMEONE ELSE.” You shouted, exasperated and on the verge of tears.
“do it, y/n. I dare you to find someone who will care for you and spoil you as much as I do.” Miles said, briefly breaking his nonchalant nature
“Fine I will!” you said reaching for the doorknob.
You left and put on clothes as you made him leave.
“You’ll be back.” Miles said, nonchalantly
“Fuck you, Miles Morales.” you said
It had been a week and you were sulking and debating getting back with the man when your family and friends told you were doing the right thing:
“I’m glad you left him, y/n. I heard he’s the prowler.” Your parent said
“Yeah I’m glad I left too.” you mumbled
As you were enjoying your fifth night of freedom, you saw a woman get mugged on the street:
“GIVE ME YOUR PURSE NOW LADY” The masked man shouted
The woman did as told and the man escaped but not before looking at you and running in your direction. With Miles, that man would’ve never even had the though to look at you.
You ran as fast as you could until you lost him in an alley behind your apartment. You decided you missed him too much and he was right so you pulled out your phone:
You: Miles you were right. I’m so sorry
Miles: typing...
Miles: its okay, I knew you’d find out soon enough; so what happened, Mami?
You: Some mugger saw me and charged at me and he had a knife
Miles: What did he look like
You: Beanie, knife, blue shirt and black pants
seen
You went home and went to sleep. The next morning you heard the news blaring in the house, along with the smell of bacon wafting through the house
“What happened?” you asked
“some mugger got killed.” your parent said
You had a stinging sensation in your gut and prayed that it wasn’t what it looked like when you heard the woman on the TV:
“It seemed like there were claw marks In his chest and he had been blasted with a ray gun."
Oh God...
You went to text Miles when you saw his text:
“You don’t gotta worry about that guy anymore, Mami. I’ll be at your house at 10.”
#mcu fanfiction#mcu imagine#marvel#miles x reader#miles morales headcannons#miles morales x y/n#miles morales x reader#miles morales#earth 42#earth42!miles#across the spiderverse#prowler!miles#spiderman#spider man: across the spider verse#across the spiderverse spoilers#i need him#marry me#for you#dark!milesmorales
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I NEED YOU | j.o
part 1
This is the second part, I hope you like it
I turn the letter in my hands again, biting my lower lip thoughtfully.
I was sitting on the bleachers of the school gym, watching our basketball team, the Tigers, practice. Despite being physically present, my mind was consumed by the words of that letter, slowly gnawing at me with the agony of curiosity. I'm really trying to stay focused, to cheer for the impressive baskets, step-backs, or three-pointers, but my head feels disconnected from my body.
"Come on!" Isaac shouts after making yet another successful shot. "Did you see that shot?" he asks from a distance, giving me a proud smile. I give him a thumbs up, signaling that I witnessed his shot, and the dark-haired boy smiles broadly, wiping sweat from his forehead.
Isaac turns around, and I catch a glimpse of the number 10 on the back of his jersey.
My eyes return to the letter in my hands, my thumb gliding over the paper.
"My brother is a true idiot," a feminine voice exclaims suddenly. I redirect my attention to the sound of the voice and smile when I see Jenna Ortega standing on the steps near me. Her brown eyes scrutinize me with amusement, a small smile painted on her lips.
I raise an eyebrow in confusion, noticing the two bottles of peach tea she holds.
"Isaac can be an idiot... but he's really good at basketball," I remark, stealing a quick glance at the mentioned boy, smiling as he skillfully dribbles the ball. "I understand," Jenna murmurs calmly, walking over to stand in front of me. "Can I sit?" she asks timidly, seeking unnecessary permission.
"Yes, of course," I murmur quickly, watching with the corner of my eye Jenna's movements.
Jenna raises the corners of her lips in a smile, sitting next to me. The scent of her fragrance wafts into my nostrils, making me sigh at how delightful it is.
"Do you want one?" she asks, offering me a peach tea bottle. "Yes, please," I reply with a polite smile, reaching out to take the refreshing drink. Our fingers brush, and instinctively, I lift my gaze to her eyes, seeing Jenna doing the same. Her doe-like brown eyes intensely lock onto mine through her long lashes, almost sending shivers down my spine with the intensity.
I avert my gaze, clearing my throat.
"I didn't ask if you wanted this because I know you don't like lemon," she innocently murmurs, almost stiffening as she realizes what she said. "How do you know?" I ask with genuine interest, taking a sip of the refreshing beverage.
"When you come to our house, you've said it several times to Isaac," Jenna says, and I look at her with a raised eyebrow, noticing her slight nervous movements.
"Oh, right," I reply, realizing. It doesn't seem too strange that Jenna knows such a thing; after all, I have to remind myself that Isaac's house is hers too. "Anyway, thanks anyway... but what are you doing here? I don't want to kick you out, of course, but you've never come to the practices," I ask curiously, and Jenna looks at me carefully while taking a sip of her tea.
My eyes immediately focus on her lips, seeing how the dimple on her cheeks becomes more pronounced as her lips curl to quench her thirst. Her eyes don't stray from mine, as if she wants to imprint me in her mind.
"Oh, I just promised my brother that if he got a B in math, I would come to see him," she says with an indifferent shrug.
I smile shyly.
"Oh, okay... it's also strange for me that he made it," I say jokingly, and Jenna smiles widely, her eyes sparkling.
"Yeah, I made the bet knowing he wouldn't, but here I am," Jenna says, smiling, directing her gaze to my hands.
She absentmindedly bites her lower lip, almost thoughtfully. "Is that a letter?" she asks with curiosity. I look at the letter in my hands that I had completely forgotten I still had, talking with Jenna distracted me. "Oh, yes, nothing important," I say without thinking too much, putting the letter in my pocket.
"Mmmh... if you say so," she says with a small smile on her lips, sparkling eyes... of I don't really know what. "And tell me... why are you here... because..." Jenna starts innocently, playing with the edges of her red and black checkered shirt. "Because you like my brother?" she timidly concludes, looking attentively at a thread of her ripped jeans, twirling her finger around it.
I almost spit out the tea I was drinking.
"What? No, no," I quickly say, blushing with embarrassment. "Misery, no," I quickly conclude, looking at Jenna with flushed cheeks.
"Mmmh..." she says unconvinced.
"Do you know that I like peach tea, and you don't know that I'm a lesbian?" I ask with a amused tone, and Jenna lightly bites her lower lip with amusement. "I don't know," she says shrugging indifferently, looking at me with a small smile.
This girl is really... unique.
(...)
"Sign! Sign against domestic violence!" I exclaim loudly, vehemently displaying the document I had in my hands, trying to get some female signatures.
After showing the letter to my best friend Sierra three weeks ago, we tried to come up with a plan to gather more clues about who might be the mysterious girl who wrote that letter for me. Besides the neat handwriting, we had noticed that she wrote the letter "E" in a very peculiar way, almost doing it backward.
"No, Sierra, it's not working," I mutter exasperatedly, looking at my best friend. "No one is signing... and as worrisome as it may be, we still get no results," I say, nervously biting my lower lip.
Sierra sighs and also puts the document down, looking at me with eyes sparkling with curiosity.
"I've got an idea," she says, smiling widely, showing all 32 teeth. "Unfortunately, teenagers are too stupid to understand their rights... but there must be something that can grab their attention," she says, smiling broadly. "What is it?" I ask with curiosity.
"Votes for the dance," she says innocently.
Sierra opens her backpack and looks for something. Once found, she pulls out a huge stack of papers. "I had thought of a plan B," she says, waving the papers with pride.
I smile at her relatively brilliant idea. "You're a genius," I say sincerely. "You're truly amazing," I conclude with a huge smile on my face.
"I'll take care of the classes over there," she says, pointing to the left corridor. "I'll handle that," I say, smiling slightly and pointing to the right one.
"Girls, I'm here too!" Melissa intervenes with an offended tone. "Right, you take care of the upper floor," I say to my sister, winking, and she sticks her tongue out at me.
Once the tasks are assigned, we start the plan.
I approach the door of the 3A class with my heart pounding in my chest. Tension builds up as I raise my hand to knock, the sound echoing in the quiet corridor, disrupting the tranquil rhythm of the lesson inside.
The wood responds under my knuckles, a dull noise that captures everyone's attention. Curious glances from students focus on me, and the teacher watches me with an inquisitive look.
"Come in," the teacher says with curiosity, placing the pen on the desk.
"Excuse the disturbance," I say nervously, my eyes scanning the faces of the students, and I notice Jenna Ortega at the back of the classroom. The girl doesn't take her eyes off me.
"On behalf of the principal, I've come to collect signatures for the dance," I say, trying to convey sincerity in my voice.
The teacher blinks with surprise. "Oh, yes, proceed," he says, smiling, sitting down at the desk. The tension dissipates slightly, but I still feel the curious stares of the students as I approach to collect the signatures.
I distribute some sheets carefully, watching the students start signing with a smile on their faces. The initial tension gradually dissolves, replaced by a more relaxed atmosphere as students exchange some light comments about the upcoming dance.
Jenna Ortega, from her corner at the back of the classroom, lifts her gaze from the paper to fixate on me again.
"So, who's going to the dance?" I ask with an encouraging smile, trying to engage the students.
A guy raises his hand. "My girlfriend and I will definitely be there!"
Another voice chimes in, "It's always fun, count us in!"
Jenna, still with her eyes on me, nods, "Count me in too, it'll be interesting."
The class seems to positively embrace the idea, and the teacher, observing the general enthusiasm, smiles satisfactorily. The signature collection proceeds smoothly, and as I retrieve the sheet from Jenna's desk, our eyes meet.
I immediately put the signed sheets into a folder, feeling the weight of responsibility decrease slightly. I walk purposefully towards another room, trying to maintain an air of confidence despite my mind still buzzing with the adrenaline from the situation.
(...)
"So, how did it go?" I ask with curiosity, biting my nail nervously.
I was in Isaac's room, pacing back and forth in the swimsuit and bikini top to cover my chest. He had invited me to a quiet day with friends by the pool.
"Sorry, but I found nothing," Sierra says with disappointment, sighing tiredly. "I read every 'E,' looking for that peculiarity, but really, I didn't find anything that matched it," she says with a discouraged tone.
"Me neither," my sister adds on the phone, disappointed.
"Okay, thanks anyway," I say with a sigh, putting two fingers on the bridge of my nose as a sign of concentration. "I'll take a look now," I bite my lower lip nervously, "before going to the pool," I conclude.
"Okay, let me know," Sierra says with curiosity. "We'll talk later, girls," I say, smiling slightly.
I end the call with a sigh, the phone slipping onto Isaac's bed as I sit down with dismay. I pull out the folder with the signatures from my corridor, my nervous fingers gripping the plastic edge.
Each page is a growing anxiety, each signature bringing me closer to the breaking point. Names slip under my fingers, and the sense of urgency pushes me to search more intensively. I delve even deeper into the search, scrutinizing each sheet with almost obsessive precision. The tension reflects on my hands, flipping through documents, notes, and signatures with an almost manic focus.
The feeling of despair grows as possibilities seem to slip through my fingers. I flip through pages and pages, searching for that unmistakable backward "E." With every seemingly promising signature, my heart races, only to be followed by disappointment when it's not the right one. Doubt creeps in, fearing that the answer might elude me once again.
Then, among the pages, I spot that distinctive signature. A closer look, a comparison with other handwriting samples, and suddenly realization strikes like lightning. Jenna Ortega. A mix of dismay and relief washes over me as I understand that the solution was in front of me all along.
I'm not sure how to take this revelation, whether to be happy for solving the mystery or excited that my friend's sister had such intense thoughts about me. Imagining Jenna moaning my name sends a shiver down my spine, a fire igniting in my lower abdomen.
I had always thought Jenna was sexy, but thinking about what hides behind that innocent face...
I bite my lower lip with mischief.
A knock on the door distracts me from my thoughts.
"Come in," I mutter absentmindedly, my voice strangely hoarse. My eyes watch with curiosity as the door opens slowly, revealing Jenna Ortega behind it. "Isaac asked me to come get you," she says, smiling broadly.
My eyes slowly traverse her body, lingering on her toned legs exposed by the terribly short shorts and the white top she's wearing, with the word Anonymous printed on it in bold letters. I smile widely at the detail I can now catch and get up from Isaac's bed.
Jenna lifts her chin and looks at me curiously as I approach her. Her hair is damp, probably from being in the pool in these hours. "Y-yeah... I'm coming. I was just checking something," I say, smiling slightly, looking at Jenna with intensity.
Jenna's eyes sparkle as she notices my gaze on them, and a smile spreads across her lips. She timidly assesses my state, looking at me from head to toe with inquisitive eyes.
"If only you had told me earlier..." I say with a serious tone, my voice dropping terribly. I bite my lower lip with mischief and lift my hand to place it on Jenna's cheek. "Wh-what?" Jenna asks nervously, stammering.
Jenna closes her eyes at the touch of my hand, leaning into my touch.
"What you wanted," I exclaim absentmindedly, my throat dry from nervousness. I timidly run my thumb along Jenna's jaw, brushing against her lips.
Jenna sighs loudly.
"Did you get it?" she asks curiously, raising her hand to place it on mine.
"You had it written on your shirt... took me a while, but I got it," I say playfully, and Jenna genuinely smiles, her brown eyes piercing my soul.
"How?" she asks with curiosity, intertwining her fingers with mine, guiding them down her body, stopping on her buttocks.
"You write the letter 'E' in a strange way," I say playfully, caressing Jenna timidly.
"Mmmh..." she murmurs, probably not hearing what I said. Jenna wraps her arms around my neck, playing with my hair. "You know..." I start, closing my eyes for her gentle touch.
"What?" Jenna looks at me seriously, eyes hooded with excitement.
I lean in and timidly unite my lips with hers, sighing immediately after the contact. Jenna moans into my mouth, moving her lips against mine, increasing the intensity of the kiss. My hands grip her exposed skin more tightly, making her shiver slightly.
I break the kiss and place my lips on her neck, sinking my teeth into her flesh. Jenna moans even more, and I smile at the enchanting sound. With my tongue, I pass over the skin I just bit, trying to alleviate the pain, and then start running it along the line of her neck until I reach her earlobe.
"If you wanted me to fuck you, you just had to ask," I say hoarsely, squeezing her buttocks, causing her to groan. "The idea crossed my mind when I saw you passing by my house half-naked," I say sincerely.
"I thought you hadn't noticed me," Jenna says in a whisper. "No, I did... just that, not having ever talked to you, I didn't want to ruin things. After all, I only knew you by sight," I admit with a stifled laugh, feeling Jenna's fingers resting on my stomach.
"In a way, you're right," Jenna says breathlessly. "You talk too much," she murmurs with a smile on her lips, leaning in and joining our lips in a quick movement.
It seems the atmosphere has become heated in this room.
#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega#jenna ortega x you#jenna ortega x y/n#jenna ortega x fem!reader#jenna marie ortega#jenna ortega smut#jenna ortega imagine#open requests#request#reqs open
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18+
“Oh.. hell yea baby bounce on it”
You and Steve have been together for 5 months now. Met in college, specifically art class, he was forced to take an elective, anything for him to graduate. That’s when he saw you in the middle of the room.. naked. Well kinda, there was a long white sheet wrapped around you. Figure drawing was that days subject.
You seemed happy? Not at all flustered having all eyes on you, Steve was a bit intimidated, not only because of how beautiful you looked and all, but everything about you made the whole room glow. And made the bulge in his pants grow.
After class he was the last one out, he wanted to talk to you, little were you aware he was stuck behind in the room; that’s when you dropped the sheet to put your clothes back on. You both screamed in sync and he scrambled out of the door faster than you could’ve blinked.
Later that afternoon, you seen him in the library and came up to him to talk about the book he was reading. He was surprised you didn’t mention the incident, and since then you two hit it off.
He knew you were a virgin, so heavy make out sessions, mutual masturbation and lots of oral was the base of your guys relationship.
You woke up, extremely needy and horny. No vibrator or dildo could sedate your craving other than Steve. He wanted to take his time with you, telling you that you’ll know when the time is right. He made a mistake years ago losing his to quickly so in his terms, he’s doing you a favor. In your terms, he’s torturing you.
You swear he gets off on it.
You’ve been rubbing your pussy up against your hand every five seconds at work, coaxing him through sexy texts and lewd photos. Trying to give him the heads up you’re ready for him to finally fuck you. Or “make love” as he’d exclaim. same shit
He’s usually arrived home by the time you get off of work and today, you were definitely worked; panties have been sticking to your cunt since 10 this morning
“I need you now!” you shout kicking your shoes off and tossing your bag elsewhere, meanwhile, he’s wide-eyed, staring at you with a mouth full of cereal
“Pardon?”
“Steve baby please I love you so much but I need your cock in me right now, I’ve been so horny all day, I mean I can literally smell myself through my own pants right now,” you admit ridding him of the bowl, climbing into his lap, immediately grinding your hips
He scoffs.
“Baby we’ve been through this.. damn, really can smell it huh?” he replies cursing himself, biting his lip, “I thought we were going to wait? you know I want it to be special for you”—
“and it will be, please I promise I’m ready” you pout
The heavy feeling of you has him already babbling.
—“just like that baby, bounce it a little bit — y-yeah that’s it there we go,” he strains bucking, his hips up into yours, cock fully solid
“yeah? like that daddy?”—
“Don’t! Stop that.. fuck, don’t call me that, you know what that does to me”
“what does it do hm?” you lean down to nip his ear, “does it make you wanna fuck my brains out?”
He growls, moving your hips faster “What the fuck are you doing? Why are you doing this to me, fuck! keep bouncin, keep boucin that hot pussy on my dick sweetheart oh— shit”—
“Come on Stevie you know you want it, you’ve been dying to feel my pussy squeeze it, anytime with you will be s-speacial, just.. PLEASE!” you, almost in tears, begging; your thighs are burning the faster and harder you grind
“Ahhh, fuck it, get up!”, he demands angrily and eagerly ripping your pants and soaked panties off—
“Open those fuckin legs, ill make ya feel real special tonight”
reblogs appreciated
#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington x virgin reader#steve harrignton#steve harrington smut#perv!steve harrington x perv!reader#joe keery#stranger things#daddy steve harrington#steve harrington x fem!reader#perv!steve harrington x virgin reader#afab reader#dom!steve harrington#soft!dom steve#steve harrington one shot
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Hope you have a good day,could you do a Hayley Raso one were reader gets injured and Haley gets overprotective but after that she comes over and checks if your alright? Thankyou:)
𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙩𝙤𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙝𝙚𝙧 - 𝙝.𝙧𝙖𝙨𝙤
warnings: major injury (concussion, mention of blood), angry!hayley, mancity!hayley
a/n: no hate to chelsea or its players, it’s just for the fic
------
chelsea vs manchester city.
the two strongest sides in the super league.
all the passion and power both teams had was coming to a head today, in the cup final.
to say i was nervous was an understatement, it wasn’t my first major game with the club but i got the jitters before every important fixture.
gareth had published the starting lineup yesterday at training, which i’d immediately looked over and noted that he’d put me in first. starting at centre back, lucky number eight.
when we arrived at the stadium, there was people all around in the stands. you could hear the crowd, not yelling, but the sheer amount of them made all the talking reverberate and was heard from the changing rooms.
eventually, we all ran out to start warm up, spending time running basic drills, gareth shouting instructions here and there, psyching ourselves up to play in our biggest game yet.
you could hear over the loudspeakers throughout the stadium, they announced each player one by one, as we each came up on the big screen. when we were called back into the tunnel, hayley came up next to me, bumping my shoulder with a grin.
“you excited?”
“yea, you could say that. nerves are buzzing in my stomach though.”
her laugh was light and sweet, her eyes sparkling with humour.
“you’ll do great. best centre back we’ve got.”
i could feel the blush spread on my cheeks. it was then that gareth herded us all in the change room, wanting to give us a pre match pep talk.
“go out there and crush them, girls. we got this.”
with one last cheer, we all walked out, the starting eleven lining up behind steph houghton, the experienced defender leading us out.
when we first kicked off it wasn’t an exciting start.
i didn’t get much ball time within the first ten minutes, kiera and georgia kept the ball up in the middle, occasionally passing back to defense who promptly kicked it back up.
chelsea’s first break came in the 25’ minute with sam kerr. she was lightning fast and had the ability to head in goals from anywhere.
lauren james had given her an amazing pass from the mid, and kerr was bolting for the ball down the left wing. i knew that jen was meant to be there, but she was too far up the field to make it back and still defend.
that’s where i came in, sliding along the grass to kick the ball away from sam’s foot at the last moment. it was a brilliant save, if i did say so myself, and ellie in goal was punching the air at my moves.
finally, we broke the stalemate, kiera landed an unexpected but amazing shot from outside the box. it was 1-0 to man city.
the whistle blew for half time shortly after and i dragged myself down the tunnel. chelsea was definitely making us work for it.
a fifteen minute break only seemed like five when we had to walk back out there. gareth had subbed hayley onto the field to play in striker, hoping we had another lucky break.
quite the opposite happened, however.
chelsea had the ball up our end, before it was tackled away; they had a corner kick. guro took that shot, and props to her because it curved beautifully. i had leapt up to header the ball away, but at the same time, lauren james was there.
her body had smashed into mine, knocking me back. however, it wasn’t the crash itself that had caused damage. when i had fallen back i was too close to the goal and my head had been hit on the metal post.
i heard the crack, and an audible gasp, although i couldn’t determine who that came from. a wave of pain consumed my body, from my head down. the first thing i did was reach a hand up to my head. when my fingers pulled away, the tips were covered in blood.
my blood.
i could barely make out what was happening around me, it was a fight to keep my eyes open and my ears were ringing, but what i did see was hayley going toe-to-toe with lauren james.
the medics had reached us then, but for me it was already too late, i closed my eyes and let my vision go black.
hayley was almost screaming in lauren’s face, this was her fault, she pushed me into the goal post and now i was unconscious. our teammates had to physically restrain her before things got out of hand. the ref handed lauren a yellow card for her dangerous play and hayley got a warning for her words.
i was stretchered off the field and taken in ambulance to the nearest hospital before the girls could restart their game.
when i woke up, the first thing i noticed was the white room. everywhere i looked there was white. then i saw hayley sitting next to me. i didn’t know how long she’d been there, but she was currently asleep in the chair so my guess was long enough.
hayley had always been a light sleeper, so when i moved my hand, it was no surprise that she woke up immediately.
“you’re awake.”
she stood up and called for the nurse. a younger woman walked into the room with a clipboard and some paperwork.
“yn yln?”
“yea-a.”
my voice was all croaky from not having spoken in a while.
“how are you feeling? took quite the fall on the pitch today.”
i didn’t have a clue what she was talking about so i just answered the question.
“my head hurts a bit. i don’t remember anything happening. what happened?”
hayley was the first to speak up this time, recounting what had happened on the pitch earlier.
“your head was whacked against the goal post.”
turns out i’d split my head open, even if it was only a little bit, and gotten a concussion.
slowly i took in everything that had happened within the last couple of hours. i didn’t say anything just say in silence trying to process things.
the nurse ended up leaving after a bit, telling me i was free to go, as long as i had someone that could supervise me for a couple of days. that left me and hayley in the room alone again.
“i was so worried that you wouldn’t remember me.”
i don’t think she expected me to answer, or even hear what she said in the first place, but i knew.
“i wouldn’t forget you, ribbons. i’d never forget you.”
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This look he has just reeks of touch my wife one more time and I'll raise hell. Or reader is shy (and married to Tommy) and is trying not to be rude + moving to stop the touches on her arm. Tommy sees if they keep doing it before he intervenes
Tommy watching you do just anything at home
John pretending to read but watching you tell a someone off. Also him waiting to see if the guy does something
Sorry 😅idk what to do with myself
Tysm for the ask, darl! I love all of these amazing ideas! Protective Tommy makes me feral and that look in the 2nd GIF is pure sunshine. However, I've written loads of Tommy requests recently so I'll show John some love.
Place Your Bets
"You there!" a mean looking drunk shouted over the din of the betting shop. You didn't bother looking up from your desk as you concentrated on taking a customer's bet over the telephone.
Undeterred, the man slowly clomped toward you, swaying as he walked. He approached wreaking of whisky and body odor and you hung up as quickly as possible to shoo him away. Rising from the desk you motioned to the back of the queue, closer to the doors where the stench would be carried away with the breeze. "You'll have to wait your turn," you informed him tersely.
"I know you," he said with a sneer, showing off a row of rotten, yellow teeth. "You was the lass who took my bet last week."
You turned away, unsure how the poor sod had placed his bet and not caring in the slightest.
"I'm talking to you!" he shouted and you turned with fire dancing in your eyes as he dared to continue. "You gave me that rubbish tip about Monaghan Boy!" he said, wiping his nose on the back of his sleeve.
"Gonna let your missus handle that one?" a secretary asked as she passed John's desk.
John lowered his paper as he shrugged, "Why not? She can take care of herself better than half the men here," he said, voice swelling with pride. He grinned to himself as he thought of all the times you'd bested him in an argument and counted himself lucky someone else was on the receiving end of your temper for once.
"He must have been off his tits! Came in dead last," the man grumbled to you.
"You'd know something about that, eh?" you countered, snickering as you pushed past him to gather a few papers.
"What did you say to me?," the man asked, puffing out his chest.
"Oh, God, this is going to be good," John said with a slight giggle. He could tell by your folded arms and the way your foot began to tap rapidly against the floorboards you were properly angry now.
You whipped around, annunciating your words as if he were a complete idiot, because he was. "I said you're a fucking drunk who made a shit bet so don't come in here and throw a wobbler like a bloody child!"
Sitting back to watch the drama unfold from behind his paper, John snickered as he listened to you give the man a tongue lashing. The man retaliated calling you a cunt.
John sucked in a breath. "Ooh, I wouldn't call her that, mate!" John commented to no one in particular, shaking his head. He kicked his feet off the desk and leaned forward slightly to see how you would return the insult.
You wagged a finger in the man's face, half his size, but berating him as though you were equally matched. "Call me that once more and I'll cut ya, ya filthy animal! Don't fuck with me!"
That's when John saw the man reach out to grab you by the arm and he was on his feet in seconds, pounding the floorboards menacingly. He pinned the man to the wall, narrowing his eyes at the bastard who dared lay a hand on you, asking, "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" The man could only gurgle in response as John held him by the throat.
You brushed your sleeve, noting the dirt he'd left behind with a frown before collecting yourself and lightly placing a hand on John's shoulder. He turned to look at you, eyes softening, but grip remaining firm.
"Can I borrow your blade, darling? Left mine in me other skirt," you said, voice as thick and sweet as honey.
"Of course, love," he said, handing it over with a quick kiss.
"Wait, wh-what's sh-she going to do with that?" the man stuttered, too afraid to move.
"Cut your balls off, I reckon," John replied. Breaking out into a shit eating grin, he reached up to smack the man on the cheek a couple of times. Then he pulled back to take in the look of horror as he snorted, "Nah, just take your eyes. She's a blinder after all and she did warn ya not to fuck with her."
#zablife ask box#Peaky Blinders fanfic#Peaky Blinders imagine#John Shelby#John Shelby fanfic#John Shelby imagine#John Shelby x you#John Shelby x y/n#John Shelby x reader
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Ask game: 39, 39, 39, 39, oh and also 39
Blease give me more of your writing your brain weirdness is extremely satisfying to my brain weirdness in a way that few others understand or can replicate
Immediately after the battle with Aizen, in what's left of Fake Karakura:
--
Something neon pink appeared at Shinji's elbow At Speed and he startled, yelping loudly and having to fight the reflex to kick what appeared to be a small girl.
"HeyifyouseemydadIwaswiththefallbacktimethewholetimeokay?" She spoke at a speed Shinji had only ever heard from a dangerously overcaffienated Mashiro before.
"I'm not lying for you, Kusajishi." sighed Kuchiki.
"YACHIRU!" someone bellowed loud enough to make the few unbroken windows ring, and Shinji turned to the sound of Ominous Jingling to see a giant of a man with a peculiar vertical hairstyle and a captain's Haori approaching, livid.
"Shit." She muttered, turning to grin sheepishly at her father as he stomped over, expression dark and a tiny, teal-haired toddler on his hip.
"Where were you supposed to be today?" The Giant growled down at Yachiru, and Kuchiki excused himself to sit down on a nearby piece of bench-height rubble.
"...You told me to stay with the fallback team in Seireitei." She sighed.
"So why are you here?" the giant growled.
"BECAUSE YOU'VE BEEN WEIRD ALL MONTH AND IF SOMETHING HAPPENED TO YOU IN LAS NOCHES I'D NEVER FORGIVE MYSELF!" She shouted, reflexive foot-stomp blasting out a wave of enraged reiatsu.
"So, uh, who're Pinky and Punky here?" Shinji asked, limping over to sit down to watch next to Kuchiki.
"Eleventh Division Captain Zaraki Kenpachi and his daughter, Yachiru Kusajishi." Kuchiki nodded. "They're loud, but honorable and reliable."
"I'VE BEEN WEIRD ALL MONTH BECAUSE- Shit, it's- Its complicated, okay?" Kenpachi groaned.
"And the other girl?" Shinji asked.
"I believe Kurosaki said her name was 'Nel' or similar." Kuchiki nodded. "Not entirely sure why Zaraki is the one carrying her around but it's nothing to worry about. He's great with kids."
"SINCE WHEN HAS 'COMPLICATED' BEEN A REASON TO HIDE STUFF FROM ME?" Yachiru demanded, bristling at him.
"Great with kids, huh?" Shinji glanced over at Kuchiki.
"-BECAUSE I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT WAS GOING ON EITHER UNTIL ABOUT TWO HOURS AGO! WHAT IF SOMETHING HAD HAPPENED TO YOU, HUH? IT'S *MY* JOB TO WORRY ABOUT WHAT HAPPENS TO YOU, NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND DAMMIT!"
"Oh, nevermind, I see what you mean." Shinji nodded and there was the barest hint of a smirk on Kuchiki's face.
Yachiru sniffled, tearing up with rage. "WHAT? I'M NOT ALLOWED TO WORRY ABOUT YOU!?"
"YOU CAN WORRY ALL YOU WANT BUT YOU CAN'T RISK YOUR HIDE FOR MY SAKE, THAT'S NOT HOW IT FUCKING WORKS-!" he roared, jabbing his finger at Yachiru.
"Can I have a juice?" the teal-haired toddler asked from Zaraki's hip.
"-In a minute Yachiru, I need to-" Kenpachi started and stopped. He blinked a few times, then slowly turned to frown at Nel, then at Yachiru, then back at Nel, pointing between the two girls and expression shifting from rage to utter confusion.
"Did you see another abandoned baby and just pick it up because it was Yachiru-shaped and Neon Colored?" Kuchiki called, teasing.
Kenpachi looked up at him, bewildered "MAYBE??" and Yachiru rolled her eyes behind him.
"That’s the most 'Raised By Birds' thing you’ve done in a while." Kuchiki laughed, getting up to peer down at Nel with curiosity.
"Raised by WHAT?" Shinji asked, jogging up after him.
Kenpachi Stood up straight, shaking his shoulders like he was ruffling feathers. "One, I’m not putting her back, two, who the fuck are these assholes?" He asked, gesturing at Shinji and the other Visored who had started to gather in the rubble to catch their breath after the battle.
"Remember how half the captains had fallen in battle or otherwise vanished before you showed up?" Byakuya asked.
"No, because I wasn’t there." Huffed Kenpachi, rifling through his Kosode and producing a Juice Box for Nel. "-but I remember Ikkaku complaining about the employee turnover."
"-AND I WAS RIGHT!" Ikkaku bellowed from his stretcher behind them, too injured to stand but not about to stop fighting, as expected of someone wearing the 11th Division's lieutenant insignia.
"YOU'RE STILL IN DEEP SHIT FOR THAT BANKAI THING, CUEBALL." Zaraki holled back at his lieutenant, who only turned his head away, sulking.
"Apparently the assorted missing officers weren’t dead, they just caught an artificially induced case of hollowfication from Aizen, but managed to survive and stayed out here in the living world to recover and learn to control their abilities out of sight from him." Kuchiki explained. Beside them, meaningful eye contact was exchanged between father and daughter, and he gave her a juice box as well.
"Tactical." Zaraki nodded approvingly. "Also, non-zero chance The Old Man would have killed y'all on sight."
"Er. Yeah." Shinji winced, looking over his shoulder to where a surprisingly non-apocalyptic-looking Captain-General was discussing something with Unohana.
"This man specifically is is Hirako Shinji, Aizen’s former boss." Kuchiki continued, introducing them properly. "Captain Hirako, Captain Zaraki."
"Hiya!" Shinji grinned, holding out a hand for Zaraki to shake, but instead, he too was handed a juice box.
Kenpachi eyed Shinji in a not precisely hostile but still unnerving manner, as he offered Kuchiki a juice box as well and when turned down, opened it for himself and drank, studying him.
"…This explains six or seven things." Zaraki finally spoke, nodding sagely.
Shinji glared up at the giant. "Excuse me?"
Kuchiki waved a hand between Shinji and Zaraki. "I promise, it’s technically a compliment."
"Yeah, if Ken-chan didn't like you, you wouldn't have a head right now." Yachiru giggled.
"Mostly explains the two sets of teaspoons in the 5th division break room." Zaraki nodded, holding his hands out to his sides. "You're, whatsit- tiger-tiger thing?"
"Huh?" Puzzled Shinji.
"Symmetry?" Tried Kuchiki. "I do recall Captain Hirako having immense talent with mirroring and reversing text and other things."
"That's the bitch!" Zaraki grinned. "Not a bad idea though, you always have enough spoons."
"Huh. I guess so?" Shinji pondered, eyeballing Zaraki in turn. "Kenpachi, so you're captain of the 11th? If I remember correctly, Kiganjo was the tenth Kenpachi- so how many Kenpachis did we run through while I was away?"
"Just him for the last century. Only the two serious challenges to his post." Kuchiki explained, looking almost... proud? There were strange political currents swirling here, leaving Shinji feeling adrift.
"For real?" Shinji asked with genuine admiration. Outside of statistical outliers like Unohana and The Old Man, it was rare for a captain to hold their post for more than two centuries, and the average in the 11th more like 60 years.
Kenpachi waved his hand noncommitally. "One and a half. Tetsuzaimon Iba was really challenging his Mother by proxy." he corrected, head tilting with a jingle and Shinji realized the vertiginous hairstyle was there to support a dozen or so small bells, before the rest of the sentence caught up with him.
"Tetsuzaimon?" Shinji blinked. "Wasn't that what Chikane Iba was going to call her son?
"Yah." Zaraki nodded, sounding like a sleigh full of presents.
Shinji stared blankly. "But- but- She was still pregnant when I.. left? He’s an infant!
"Nah, Lieutenant Iba's a whole-ass man now." Zaraki looked over his shoulder. "Ay Iba-" he called to a robust man with sunglasses wearing the 7th Division's lieutenant's badge, currently engaged in picking up Ikkaku and moving him out of the way for the 4th division triage. "-How come you're spotless when my vice looks like someone fucked up at the abattoir?"
"Hi Captain Zaraki!" Iba waved back, , Ikkaku slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "It's because he's a fucking idiot, sir!"
"FUCK YOU!" Ikkaku shrieked, flipping them off from where he hung awkwardly over his friend's shoulder.
"FUCK ME YOURSELF YOU COWARD!" Zaraki bellowed back.
Shinji watched the spectacle with wide eyes, slowly coming to an unpleasant realization, before slowly putting a hand on Kuchiki’s shoulder. "…Sojun." He sighed, using his colleauges given name with heavy morose. "I’m afraid we may be Old Men now."
Kuchiki turned and blinked at him, confused. "I’m Byakuya."
It was Shinji's turn to stare in confusion. "...Kuchiki Byakuya isn't even in the Academy yet?"
"No, I'm a captain now. Sojun, my father, died shortly after your disappearance." Apparently-Byakuya explained, arching a concerned eyebrow down at him.
"Fucking what." Shinji said flatly, feeling like he'd been drained of all color and redrawn with a sharpie by someone's off-hand.
"HAH!" Barked Zaraki. "Yer Old Fart, Tiger."
Byakuya scoffed up at Zaraki. "What’s that make you then?"
"An Ancient and Revered Relic, thank you." Kenpachi said, puffing up his chest in mock-pride.
"What's going on?" Nel asked Yachiru in a loud whisper.
"Bowlcut here is an old fart who is just now realizing that he's an old fart, but he’s younger than me, so he’s also a baby." Yachiru explained. "Either way, impressive bowel control for his age!"
"HEY!" Yelped Shinji.
"Drink ya Battle Victory juice, Tiger." Zaraki said, giving Shinji a consoling pat on the shoulder.
"...It's a bitter Juicy Juice I drink this day." Shinji sighed, disconsolately stabbing the box with the straw and drinking with despair.
#AEIWAM#an elephant is warm and mushy#bleach#bleach fanfic#fanfic writer ask game#zaraki kenpachi#shinji hirako#byakuya kuchiki#yachiru kusajishi#nelliel tu odelschwanck#long post#it's funny under the cut I promise#I love subjecting shinji to conversations that are like being hit with multiple baseball bats repeatedly
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a fic where tough guy Matt is a little bitch to younger sister in a car video
Don’t be a Bitch
Sturniolo Little Sister (SLS) x The Sturniolo Triplets
Warnings: Tuff! Guy Matt, attitude, language, etc.
° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩
SLS’s POV
I don’t appear in car videos very often, but Nick asked me to tonight. How could I say no?
Well I would have if I’d known Matt would be acting the way he did.
“Blah blah blah! Get to the fucking point or move the fuck on! Jesus Chris!” Matt said, rolling his eyes and slouching in his seat.
Chris stopped talking and his shoulders dropped.
Most people don’t notice, but Chris has always been kinda sensitive, even if he doesn’t show it.
Nick smacks the back of Matt’s head, causing him to whip around in his chair to be met with Nick’s finger in his face.
“What the fuck is your deal, tuff guy?” Nick asks, still pointing at him.
Matt swats his hand away and rolls his eyes yet again.
“Whatever moron.” He says, shaking his head.
Nick looks at me with his ‘what the fuck is going on’ eyes, to which I shrug.
“What were you saying Chris?” I ask him, slightly patting his shoulder on the left side, out of the camera’s view.
“I-um…I’m not sure. It’ll come back to me.” He says, softy smiling.
Just as I was about to say that it’s fine and we can move on for the time being, Matt speaks again.
“Wow. He forgot AGAIN? What a shocker!” He says sarcastically, shaking his head again with his arms crossed, staring out the front windshield.
“Okay Matt, what the fuck is your deal?!” I yell at him, tired of the attitude he’s had all freaking afternoon and into tonight.
“SLS, I don’t need you to start acting like a little bitch, I already have to deal with these two idiots.” He says, not even bothering to turn and look at me, let alone through the rear view mirror.
With that, I’m out of the car, slamming the door behind me and walking into the house.
As soon as the door closed behind me, I sprinted up to my room, feeling the urge to kick the shit out of something.
Did I do something to Matt?
-
Nick’s POV
I’m actually the maddest I’ve ever been in my entire life.
Just because Matt decides to switch on his attitude, doesn’t mean he gets to take it out on anyone else, let alone his little sister.
“Dude! What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Chris scolds him, smacking his chest with the back of his hand.
I see Matt take the hit without a word, then stare into his lap, chewing nervously on his bottom lip.
then it hit me.
He feels really bad about what he said.
“Goddamn it! I’m so fucking stupid!” He shouts. Punching a fist into the dashboard.
Chris and I stare at him with wide eyes.
I have never seen him get so worked up before, let alone punch something.
I lean closer too him and rub his shoulder soothingly as I see water begin to form on his lower lashes.
“Why don’t you just go talk to her? It’ll make both of you feel better,” I say to him, no longer mad at him.
He nods, wiping at his eyes before opening the car door.
Chris and I give him soft smiles as walks inside the house.
-
Matt’s POV
I’m such a fucking idiot!
I think this the whole way up the stairs to my little sisters bedroom.
I tap on the door with my knuckle, earning a soft ‘come in’ from the other side.
I open the door, walk in, then close it behind me. SLS/N is sitting in her bed, headphones on, staring out her window.
Shit.
I walk over and sit beside her on the bed. If she sees me, she doesn’t act like it. She keeps her headphones on and continues to stare.
I call her name to not response.
I do this one more time before I result in taking her headphones off myself.
She still doesn’t look.
I take a deep breath and began talking from my heart, telling her about how I really feel.
“Sis, I’m so sorry. I had no excuse to call you an awful name and take my anger out on you. I was an idiot for doing so and I hope you can forgive me-“
i don’t as cut off with her arms wrapped around my torso, her face buried in my chest.
I smile at her as I kiss the top of her head, smiling.
“I love you Matty.” She says into her hug.
I grab her and and begin walking her back to the car.
“I love you too kiddo.”
@idkwhosnyla @babypat08 @eyelessdemon00 @christopherowensturniolo @sturnsxx @freshloveforthefit @matty443355 @sleepysturnss @emeraldgreenbeautiesstu @sunsetsturniolos @hoesturniolo @x4nd3rsukz @chr1sgirl4life @sstvrnioloo @sturns-posts @chrisstopherfilmed @kylasrealityx @zoeysturnioloooooo @comet235 @islaasblog @sturnioloblogs @defnotayonna @mattsleftnipple03 @thematthewlover @mattsaq @idkhowtosleep
#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo imagine#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo smut#sturniolo triplets#nicolas sturniolo#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo x reader#nick sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo x you#mathew sturniolo#sturniolo#sturniolo sister#sturniolo sister x reader
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The Sailor and The Samurai - I
Mizu x Femme Shipmate/Pirate Reader
Hi my lovelies! I haven't updated in so long and I'm sorry but college has been kicking my ass. (Why tf am I studying biochemistry - because I hate myself). Anyways, I hope to update my other stories soon (I've had chapters for months now, they just need to be edited lol). So for now, here's a little BES fic because I'm in love with this show :)
(Notes: Reader's father is Irish in the fic but she will not be described physically except for having super long curly hair because I like projecting my hair goals onto stories, also I will be using he/him pronouns for Mizu since they are currently being perceived as a man.)
Part 2 now out
Y/n woke up with a splitting headache from the rum she had the previous night. She made a note to self to not attempt to out drink her father, even if he was pushing 60. Rolling out of her cot, she slipped on a blouse and trousers she had acquired from a crew mate at some point. They barely fit, but it was far better than the dresses and corsets she wore whenever they docked back home.
She walked onto the deck just in time to watch over the vast ocean as they approached the isolated island of Japan. She'd been there many times in her career but had only ever been to the ports to assist with loading goods when the crew needed it. Today, there was no need. Instead, she watched with mild curiosity from the crow's nest as crates were loaded onto The Banshee.
The cargo seemed standard: silks, swords, exotic fish. The things nobles in England dreweld over. Yet the passengers were anything but standard. Y/n could barely believe her eyes when the infamous Abijah Fowler was brought on board with guards on each side of him. He was brought to the detention cell, which would have otherwise been used when her father was tired of a crewmate's drunken antics.
Y/n was so taken aback by Fowler's presence she nearly missed the passenger behind him: a young man, a few years older than y/n herself, clad in Japanese garb and yellow glasses. It seemed odd to her, as it was rather overcast outside but she didn't give it a second thought. What she was truly curious about was why Abijah Fowler was on their vessel.
As the ship took sail, she climbed down from the nest and made her way to the detention cell with a curious, if not mischievous, grin.
"I never thought you'd be joining us for London," she teased as she stood outside of his cel, as though dangling her freedom like a carrot. She did not like Fowler one bit, but she found him almost as amusing as she found him vile. Entertainment was hard to come by at sea, so who could really blame her?
"Well I for one am always happy to see you," he said, grabbing her hand through the bars and kissing her knuckles. She rolled her eyes as she pulled her hand back from him.
"What brings you back to the isle?" she asked. "My father doesn't even enjoy England, and he's still in good standing, legally speaking."
"Perhaps he's a better Irishman then me," Fowler said with a shrug. "What does it matter to you?"
The girl looked up in faux innocence. "Oh, I'm just curious."
"Well, why don't you hunt down the samurai that's on board and he can let you know why I'm going back to London," Fowler finally told her. "You've picked up quite a bit of Japanese, haven't ya?"
"Alright, I'll see you around then," she said as she turned to leave.
"You have your mother's rear!" He shouted out, as though y/n had forgotten why she had disliked the man so much. She said a silent prayer thanking the heavens he wasn't roaming freely as she roamed the ship looking for the mysterious man with glasses, which was simple enough.
He stood on the poop deck, staring out onto the ocean, as anyone who has ever treaded water has. The waters had a way of commanding one's attention.
"Hello good sir," the young woman greeted she climbed the stairs, stopping to curtsey out of habit. She'd managed to have some resemblance of good manners despite being raised at sea by a captain with a drinking habit.
The young man stared at her, which was a common response from many men upon seeing her for the first time, regardless of national origin. In fact, Englishmen seemed most taken aback by her appearance. Her hair was long and unkempt, falling down her back in ringlets instead of being pinned into an updo of a proper lady. Her shirt nearly fell from her shoulders and around her neck was a long, beaded necklace that seemed to trail down between her breasts. Y/n giggled at the man's reaction, having expected nothing less.
"Oh, I'm sorry," he spoke casting his eyes away from her eyes out of embarrassment, then down to her strange necklace, then back up to her eyes.
"Don't worry about it," she said, leaning against the Banshee's railing. "It is lovely to make your acquaintance, may I ask your name?"
"Mizu," he answered, finally less taken aback by the strange woman. "And you are?*
"Y/n," she said, reaching out her hand limply, again out of habit more than anything else. Mizu looked at her with pure confusion, almost fear. Y/n giggled again, this time to hide her embarrassment. "It is expected to kiss a lady's hand where we're going."
Mizu nodded and cautiously took the girl's hand, which was smaller then her own, and cool to the touch from the ocean winds. He kissed it with the gentleness most men she encountered lacked.
"You'll make a proper gentleman," y/n remarked as she retrieved her hand once again and placed it under her head. She scanned Mizu as had her. Admittedly he was rather dashing. So much so she'd forgotten what she was originally there to ask him. Fowler was the last thing on her mind. "What's with the spectacles?" she asked.
"My eyes are unnatural back home," he told her.
"Is that so?" Y/n asked rhetorically. Perhaps without thought for personal space, she leaned forward and took the yellow frames from the man's face. She was greeted with eyes that would put the sea herself to shame. "You needn't wear these anymore, your eyes are beautiful." The young sailor folded the glasses and handed them back to the blue eyed man.
A small smile graced Mizu's face at the first genuine compliment he'd heard in regard to his eyes. He looked over the beautiful yet foreign face of the woman in front of him. The journey to London was certainly something to look forward to now.
#mizu blue eye samurai#mizu x reader#mizu#blue eye samurai#blue eye samurai x reader#blue eye samurai x you#reader insert#mizu x you#netflix#bes#bes mizu#blue eye samurai fanfic
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Are my parents and I the assholes for insinuating that my aunt and uncle's dog should be put down?
I (21F) hate one of my aunt and uncle's current dogs. They rescue old racing dogs and have done for like 15 years now. Their first two dogs I loved. First one was a bitch in both senses of the word, but she was funny and well behaved when it was important. Second one was a true gentle giant and a lovely boy. The second pair they've adopted though are a nightmare.
Alice, the current bitch they have, has suffered some form of trauma in her past. There are three years missing from her medical history and she's got some scars, so we'll never know exactly what happened but something did. She's a very nervous dog. She can be a sweetie, and they were making progress with her until they got the new one. Alice, however, does what more dominant dogs around her do, which has become a problem.
Enter Blue. Blue is genuinely dangerous. Blue snaps with no previous warning and tries to kill things. My family all know about dogs, this isn't us misreading his body language, he is giving no warning then going for the throat. He's taken a particular dislike to mum (who is usually a bit of a dog whisperer) and has got her in the hand a few times. Blue also tries to kill any dog who doesn't share his breed. We were in a restaurant, sitting outside, Blue saw a Beagle and before any of us could do anything he'd pulled my uncle backwards off of his chair and dragged him towards this poor dog. My uncle is a big man, 6" and not thin, so you can imagine the strength it took for Blue to drag him like a doll (the Beagle and owner got away DW).
I've disliked Blue for a while, but what made me actually hate him was that, when my aunt and uncle came to see us just after our own elderly dog had passed, Blue walked into our sitting room and pissed on the carpet. He's house trained and has never done this before. I think he was doing it territorially because he could smell that our dog was dead. I've never wanted to kick an animal before, but I did then and had to excuse myself before I caused a scene.
Cut to yesterday. We were in the pub having a family meal. Blue is muzzled now in public after the last restaurant incident. There was a family sitting across the room from us with a very little girl, 3 or 4 years old I'd say. She was looking at Alice and trying to get her attention from across the room. As her mum got up to take her to the toilet, the girl pointed at our table and asked to see the dogs. Her mum asked us if it was okay. My aunt agreed. The little girl came over. Alice immediately hid under the table.
My aunt was like "ooh sorry, she's shy, why don't you say hello to Blue".
Blues head pops up. The mum sees he's wearing a muzzle and tries to pull her daughter away from him but the kid was too quick and went to pat him on the head. He was super chill with it, pressed into her palm like he wanted harder pets, then with no warning growl, no tensed up body language, nothing, just lunges for the kid.
Obviously she's terrified. The mum is terrified and pulls her away. My uncle grabs hold of Blue's leash and my aunt is ineffectually going "oh no blue bad boy" over and over. My parents jumped up to help the mum and the little girl. I grabbed Alice so she couldn't start copying Blue. We all got kicked out of the pub.
We were standing on the street outside when my parents and I started laying into my aunt about how irresponsible that was. She is like "he'll never become accustomed to humans if he's locked away". Dad shouted that he doesn't get to maul someone to learn that lesson. She scoffed and said he had the muzzle. I said it takes one piece of brittle plastic before he gets put down. My aunt told us all to fuck off and stormed off in the opposite direction. My uncle took Alice from me and followed her.
My aunt made a passive aggressive series of Facebook posts about how all dogs deserve care, and how everyone lashes out when exposed to trauma, then blocked mum (only Facebook user in our house).
I don't think we're the assholes, but I know I'm very biased, because I genuinely hate that dog and would be quite happy to hear it had moved on, whether that be to a different home or the afterlife, I'm not picky.
So awta?
What are these acronyms?
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Drunk confession
Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs
Pairings: Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor X Fem!Reader
Genre: Fluff
Format: Drabble
Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, Crying, Sobbing, Drunk problems
Word Count: 2K
A/n: Wanted to write one only for Dazai but I couldn't help myself and now here we are :)
↳Osamu Dazai
It's two in the morning and Dazai can't sleep as always, filling these hours of loneliness with reading his manual of suicide over and over, waiting for the rays of the sun to peek through the curtains and set another day of his tedious life. Dazai is at his dorm alone and he scarcely has any guests over; which is why the articulate knocks on the door catches him off guard. He glances at the clock and approaches the door as possibilities cloud his mind. What's going on? Did something happened? Maybe the guild has attacked again? Or that rat Dostoevsky has made a move to play his schemes on Yokohama's ability users? Or...
When he opens the door, he expects Kunikida, Atsushi or perhaps a member of an enemy organization ready to kidnap him or pull the trigger right in front of his face; but behind the door It's just you, cheeks red from what he assumes is the effect of alcohol he can smell from ten miles away.
He stares at you, with a curious turning into calming look on his face before asking you to what does he own the honor of meeting you at this fine hour, but the answer he receives isn't verbal; it's a sudden attack of affection coming from a embrace taking his waist imprison. An embrace that was supposed to be tight but you're too zoned out to keep yourself on your feet let alone hugging the shit out of him.
"Y/n...?"
"Shhhhhhhhh~"
His heart can't stop slamming itself to his chest and he's almost happy that he doesn't have to hide his flustered face because you probably won't remember anything in the morning; but you're still hanging in his arms, face all grumpy and eyes half-lidded while not giving in to the comforting warmth of his embrace lulling you to sleep.
"Yooou bas...tard... ugh!"
It's ok. He has heard that from many people before, but you can't be here only to insult him and leave, right?
"Y/n? What-"
"Shut up! You annoying peace of work!"
He's wrong. That is the reason why you're here for.
...Partly.
"I'm here to... kick your ass! For all the trouble you've put me through!"
"Y/n stop shouting and calm down. What are you talking about?"
"You... You don't even know! You damned bastard! Stupid bandage wasting machine! You never let me get to work! I can't work with you! I'm... I'm quitting my job at the agency!"
Dazai doesn't get confused very often, so he's really impressed when he searches through his memories for any recall of him holding you back from your work, but he fails to find any.
"You still don't get it!?"
You want to punch, smash and kick the life out of him, but all you do is sinking into his chest more as you inhale his scent while whining with a whisper-liked tune.
"It's... I don't know either! It's just... Maybe your face! No... Not just that... I don't know... Maybe your hair too... Or the way you smirk when you mess with Kunikida... Or how you lie on the couch as you mumble the song playing in your headphones... Or... Or how you... How you... It's everything! Everything you do distracts me! And not even at work! It's like you're everywhere but not... everywhere at the same time... I don't know again... maybe... maybe I like you or something... ah... my head... hurts..."
When you finally lose conscious and fall asleep in his arms, Dazai holds you close to himself, hands lightly caressing your hair as he smiles at your fucked up state. He now has doubts if he wants you to forget, if he wants tonight to disappear in the shades of memories from the women he had spent some nights with no strings attached; but whatever he wants, he can't help but to smile at your pretty face and glassy eyes, and how you're so innocent yet such a loud-mouthed at the same time.
↳Chuuya Nakahara
Chuuya has never been one to hold back from making a drunk mess out of himself, but when he sees you taking shots relentlessly, he knows he's the one to drive tonight.
Your face is hot but not enough to evaporate the tears that can't prevent themselves from falling on your cheeks, and you're not-so-quiet sobbing is kind of catching other people's attention but somehow Chuuya doesn't care, he just presses you against his chest harder and while not wanting to ever see you be upset like this, he wishes you would drink with him alone more often.
"I...hiccup* Can't take it hiccup* anymore..."
"Oh c'mon, you've been through worse y/n. Plus, we didn't have great losses. Accidents happen"
"Right! Says the most powerful ability user!"
Your grumpy expression makes him smile harder. Although it's wrong to hug your comrade like this, he still tugs you closer and lightly rubs your right cheek with his thumb, chuckling at your confusion.
"Huh! N-Now you're laughing at me!? You- You- You're supposed to help me out, Chuuya! I- If you're going to make of fun of me just leave!"
"Like I'm leaving you here when you're a crying mess! Did you forget your position? You're an assassin working for the mafia! Anyone wants you dead! Being alone here when you're vulnerable is another one of your shitty ideas! Besides, I will never leave you y/n, you already know that"
He's right. He has never left you even once on your own before.
No matter how many times you mess up on mission, how many times you get into trouble facing your higher ups or what time it is, day and night, Chuuya always comes to help you out. He's always been there, to be a shoulder for you to lean on when you're suffering from the pain, or to cheer you up after a long mission by bringing you your favorite snacks. He has always been there with you, in sadness and happiness.
Chuuya gets worried when he catches you staring at his chest silently, but the feeling disappears when your hands land on his cheeks.
"You're right... You've never left me alone..."
Words fade from his mind as you look into his eyes and then slowly lean closer, body still wobbly but determined to do this. He never expected you to make a move. He did wanted you, even though he could never drop a hint and he thought that maybe it was for the best if nothing ever happens, but now that you're this close to him, he can't think of anything negative let alone the problems this dangerous relationship might drag along with itself. He closes his eyes as your lips meet, wrapping his arms around your waist while tasting the bitter liquid left on your mouth, totally unfazed by the looks he knows you're earning right now.
Chuuya can always fight, but he rarely gets to kiss his bestfriend; so he might as well enjoy himself while he's at it, and maybe this won't be the last time he gets this close to you.
Only if you remember what happened in the morning, which Chuuya is gladly ready to remind you in case you forget, by capturing your lips in another kiss.
↳Fyodor Dostoevsky
"I'm... cold..."
Fyodor doesn't hug his subordinates, nor does he pat them or let them sit on his lap, so... You could say you were somewhat special.
He sighs as he lightly pats you on the back, wrapping his cloak around you while thinking of scolding you as soon as you regain consciousness, never letting you lay a finger on alcohol. While he's kind of pissed because he never thought you could get this clingy since you're so shy and decent around him, but this feeling... This comfortable warmth that radiates from your body... It's nice. Nice enough to help him look over the fact that you were lying about being cold only to stick yourself to him more and whine nonsense he doesn't understand but lowkey tries to.
"You shouldn't drink this much at work, y/n. It will make us more trouble and we already have a handful of that"
Fyodor doesn't expect a response, or a proper one to say at least; and he didn't get one, if a small sob filled with regret coming from you doesn't count.
He glances at you from the corner of his eye to make sure that you're not crying, then looks back at the monitor again with his attention completely pointed at you. You're upset about something he's not aware of; he doesn't poke his nose in other people's private lives unless they're dangerous or his target of course, but for once in his life, he wishes he had paid attention to you more. Why? He knows, but it's so wrong and he doesn't want to push himself to say it out loud, happy that no one has ever asked him too.
You're one interesting little Myshka.
"I want to be of use for you"
Your voice is quiet, more like a mumble; but lucky for you, Fyodor has sharp ears.
"Hmm? What was that, dear?"
Your stare is pointed at the floor, but your mind is wandering around another place. Fyodor feels you wrapping your arms around him a little bit harder and a short pause before you speak up again, your voice a bit louder than before but would still count as mumbling.
"I... want to help you achieve your goals, sir. I don't want to be a burden to you. I want to be useful, even though the result might not really be something I would exactly like"
Fyodor knows everything. All the turns and twists of your little mind, all the intentions you have behind your little gestures, all the thoughts you smother behind your scrunched up face; but that doesn't mean he wouldn't like to hear you actually say it every now and then.
"Why? Why do you want to help me achieve something you're not looking forward to, Myshka?"
Myshka, a cute nickname Fyodor calls you with, which is kind of normal since you're a rat working under his watch; but you're the only one who gets to be called that. None of his other subordinates are called anything special. Just you. The tiny pathetic Myshka he likes more than his other subordinates. Why? No one knows, but no one really cares either.
Except for you.
I... I think that... I enjoy to see that you're relieved... And that you can... finally take a break...
Because you have nice goals and they make the world a better place...
Because... Because... I...
"Because I would like to see you smile, sir"
Fyodors coherent taps on the keyboard stops and you gain his attention again, only this time he doesn't try to hide his glance; he tilts his head and looks at you straightforwardly.
Of course you hide your face in the crook of his neck, and of course that makes his heart a tiny bit clench.
"Like... Not out of... I don't know... Mischief or anything... A relieved smile... A victorious one maybe?... Not one of those smiles you wear when you are bargaining with someone..."
"I understand what you mean, dear"
His voice is not enthusiastic but softer than before, with a hint of gentleness inside. It makes your figure looser on his lap, giving him access to do what he wants with you, as if he couldn't already.
And suddenly something unexpected happens. He plants a kiss on your shoulder, making you shiver and glue your chest to him harder than before.
"I too, would like to see you smile dear"
And I would like to have you by my side when that time comes.
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