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#i see people make him punk and i love punk aus
osamusbigtits · 2 years
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there are no emo bitches in karasuno and i stand by that. yamaguchi comes the closest but he's like emo lite. you know? like alt but not really. he likes the aesthetic but he's not nearly sad enough for emo music.
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fiepige · 7 months
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Read these great tags from @the-cat-and-the-birdie and I couldn't get the idea of Venom!Hobie in a pillow nest out of my brain so I just had to:
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This is a dark and serious AU I swear!!! 😭
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lemon-wedges · 6 months
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The thing about a tgaa phantom of the opera au is that...
Barok should be Christine. Barok being Christine means the phantom can be rumored to be the restless spirit of his late brother who use to own the opera house. That's why nobody is allowed to have those box seats during a performance (that klints favorite seat). And nobody other than barok is allowed to be the lead (to passify an angry spirit that can only hear his brother u_u).
And thats how u get Kazuma being "murdered" by the phantom when he's slated to be the new lead in an up coming show. And thats how you get Ryu traveling to Paris London to look into this mysterious ghost that killed his best friend and still haunting this singer 🤔
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star-suh · 2 months
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Brat and Brattier
Jung Wooyoung x Male Reader
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cw: idol au, dom top woo, bratty bottom member reader, rough sex, brat taming, slapping, spanking, fingering, auralism (attempt), degradation, sex toys, edging, sir kink, double penetration, breeding, marking, feminization.
an: need those arms around my neck 👹NOW👹
since they debuted until today, wooyoung has always been recognized as the brat of the group, but everything changed some time later when a new member joined the group, yn. he was a cheeky motherfucker, always teasing and getting on wooyoung's nerves. “yn can you please shut up, i'm trying to watch this series” wooyoung's blood boiling of anger seeing how he has no peace not even in his dorm, that he now shares with yn, “this is my dorm too, i can do whatever i want” the other replied with a cocky grin. “what was that you punk? i'm older than you, you know... you should be respecting me”. his face covered in a red hue, the anger could be felt throughout the room, the tension in the air was palpable.
"meh" yn just shrugs and ignores him.
this was wooyoung's last straw, he was tired of yn attitude so maybe it was time to teach him how to behave. he silently went to the dorm's door and lock it, thankfully the rest of the members were out shopping, then he walked towards yn's bed and grabbed him by the collar “you're being such an annoying bitch right now yn. would you be a good boy and shut the fuck up? let me finish watching my series” yn was lowkey scared of wooyoung's right now but he still wants to rail him up more, the sexual tension between them growing up too. the older let him go and went towards his bed when something made him stop right there, “make me”...
wooyoung smirked, he knew what he was doing and he wasn't going to waste the opportunity to teach the boy some manners.
“sure”...
yn now was on woo's lap, with no pants nor underwear, the only thing that kept his ass warm was the spanking that the other was giving him. each spank being rougher than the last one. “... 18… 19… and 20, ok that was the last one” woo comments rubbing the bright red ass trying to soothe the pain. meanwhile yn was containing his tears but he couldn't let wooyoung win “that's all?” he asks. a sudden slap landed on his ass making him swallow his next words, “you love being a bratty whore, aren't you? i was thinking on going easy on you but well…” wooyoung laughs “brace yourself slut, you asked for this”.
a cold liquid dripped down yn's ass, wooyoung's hands smearing all of it, then he introduces a finger all at once inside the other's hole, no warning. “is this what you wanted, attention whore?” woo asks, introducing the other two fingers. yn ignores him, focusing on hiding his whimpers. “come on” the older sighs “answer me when i ask you” he starts speeding up the movement of his hand, ruining the boy's hole. after the sudden change of speed yn started moaning louder, “there you go”, the wet sounds making woo's cock hard.
“turn around” commanded wooyoung but the other didn't obeyed. the older grabbed him by his arms and forced him to turn around, watching how rock hard he was. wooyoung's face went near the other's ear, his breath sending pleasurable shivers down yn's body. “damn, aren't you a nasty pervert?. getting off on people being rough with you..” each word being whispered with some kisses here and there.
yn tried to hide his face with his arms but wooyoung avoided it “what happened attention slut? are you shy now? aww”; “shut up” yelled yn “just let's get over with this asshole" tears threatening to come out of his eyes. suddenly he felt a stingy pain on his right cheek, wooyoung just slapped him “what the fuck did you just d-” he was cut by wooyoung's lips clashing against his, “that's not how you should address me” he says in between kisses. wooyoung's lips were soft and his tongue was doing wonders inside his mouth “sorry sir” he blurted out. “mm-mm i didn't hear you, say it louder”; “yes sir” yelled yn with all his strength.
“there you go” says wooyoung proudly, “now let's make the rules clear”, wooyoung stands up going towards his closet. he takes out a box from there and then sits down on the bed near yn again, from there he takes out a ring and places it at the base of yn's dick.
“rule number 1, i own you”.
he grabs a dildo, apply some lube on it and insert it on yn's hole.
“rule number two, you don't get to choose what to do or don't. i decide how to use you”.
the dildo going in and out, the squelching sounds mixed with the whimpers was like music for wooyoung's ears.
“rule number 3, you're gonna be a good slut and be grateful for whatever i give you. understood?”
yn just nods, then he feels another slap on his left cheek.
“understood?”.
“yes sir”.
“that's a good little toy”.
wooyoung unzips his pants discarding it along with his underwear, slapping his fat cock against that slutty hole.
“do you want this cock baby?”.
“yes sir”.
“tell me how badly you want it”.
“i want it so bad sir, please”.
“that doesn't convince me” wooyoung keeps on rubbing the tip around the already stuffed hole.
“please sir, i want the real cock and not this piece of plastic.. please”.
wooyoung keeps doubting, he doesn't reply anything.
“i'll be a good whore sir, please make this pussy yours. make me yours”.
“so desperate” wooyoung gets closer to yn's face and kissed him while introducing his cock, “so fucking tight”.
wooyoung's thrusts were rough, yn's hole was being stretched to the max being stuffed with a cock and a dildo at the same time. “sir you're gonna break me” he pants, tears rolling down his eyes and his tongue out.
“you look better like this so fucked up, squirming with my dick inside you. you were made for this.. to be used by me”; “yes sir, i'm just a hole for you to use” replied yn quickly, the overstimulation already hitting him.
“let's get rid of this” wooyoung pulls out the dildo with no warning making yn squirm in pain. now with just his dick inside woo can move more freely “i'm gonna obliterate this pussy”, he looks down, “damn you wanted me that bad? look how you're pussy is gripping me so hard” he laughs “it's like it doesn't want me to pull out”.
“sir i want to cum, please take it out” yn signals towards the cock ring.
“did you learn your lesson? are you gonna behave?”.
“yes sir”.
“who's your owner?”.
“you my sir, i belong to you”.
“such a good toy”, wooyoung removed the ring of the dick and watched how it squirted all the cum, the orgasm making yn's ass squeeze hard on woo's cock making him cum inside of him. “i'm fucking cumming” a mixture of grunts, pants and whimpers filled the room. wooyoung rode his high but kept the dick inside “you're so cute when you're so fucked up. makes me want to wreck you even more” he kissed the dumbified yn and resumed his thrusts, his dick getting hard again inside the smaller's ass. “next time you act like this i'm gonna edged for all the week, so stop being a brat okey?”.
“yes sir” he responds, eyes rolled back feeling woo's tip brushing his prostate.
months later fans noticed how yn stopped acting like a brat, or at least not that much. they also noticed how just a simple touch or stare from wooyoung is enough to make him behave. so they came to the conclusion that maybe wooyoung is in charge of making yn behave while he takes back his title of the group's brat.
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the-kr8tor · 3 months
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First time request!
Hobie reading thirst tweets on buzz feed 🙊
Why did this idea randomly 💭into my head? IDK DONT ASK
Thank you for requesting! 😘😘
Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader
Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing) Famous AU/ Band AU (?) Actor AU, CW suggestive, Fluff.
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“‘I wanna live in his knickers’ alright, how would you fit inside though?” You laugh loudly as Hobie reads a comment printed on a tiny slip of paper. “Think of the logistics, love” you guffaw, the sound echoing in the studio, you kind of feel bad for the audio people in the back.
You choke on your own spit from laughing so much, Hobie pats your back gently while he chuckles. “Bloody hell, look what you've done–” he squints at the username on the paper, his eyes widen at the crude name, he folds it in half to put it away. “‘m not even gonna read that out loud”
“What? why? Is it that bad?” You try to reach over him to try and sneak a peek.
“Not for your innocent eyes, lovie.” he flicks the paper away, it swishes away, slowly falling down on the carpeted floors.
You see the camera crew stifling a laugh from your peripheral as Hobie puts his whole hand over your face. The sheer size of it covers your entire face.
“This is why the last comment says your hands would look great as a necklace.” Your voice is muffled by his hand, now you feel bad for the audio editors.
“Well that one is more logical” he takes his hand off your face, wiping his hand on your too expensive blouse, pretending that your drool is sticking on his palm.
“This is vintage, Hobie” you say in between giggles. He rolls his eyes while he takes a piece of paper from your bowl.
He rests his chin on your shoulder as he holds the comment in front of you to read. You reach behind to gently scratch his nape.
“‘Please step on me, Y/N. Oh and Hobie can join too’” you two laugh simultaneously. Your stomach hurts from all the laughter.
Hobie leans too far back, too engrossed in his laughing. With a thud he falls off the stool, his legs raised like a cartoon character that slipped on a banana peel.
You gasp, hearing loud laughter from the crew that makes you laugh too as you see him put up a thumbs up with a goofy smile on his face.
“You look bloody fit in this angle” he flirts, the only comment from today's shoot that made butterflies fly in your stomach.
“Charmer” you're surprised that you managed to say a word as your cheeks heat up. Lending him a hand, you raise him back to his feet awkwardly.
His hand stays on yours, holding it tenderly, squeezing it three times while he looks at you longingly. “Let's get this over with so you can step on me right after.” He whispers.
“Hobie!” You hope they stopped filming because of his blunder.
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muzansfangs · 8 months
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Blue jeans.
Starring: Muzan Kibutsuji x f!reader;
Format: one-shot;
Warnings: nsfw, modern au, age gap, reader is twenty-one, sugar daddy dynamics, car sex, semi-public sex, vaginal sex, oral sex (Muzan receiving), use of alcohol, cigarettes, vaginal fingering, size kink;
Plot: You were his addiction. Young, beautiful and full of life, you made him forget about his problems for hours, whenever you met. The day you two had crossed paths for the first time, he thought it was not going to be anything more than a simple one-night stand. “No feelings involved” he had told you. Then, why did he miss you whenever you left?
Track: Blue jeans — Lana del Rey "You were sorta punk rock, I grew up on hip hop, but you fit me better than my favorite sweater".
MASTERLIST FOR THE EVENT.
﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏
He enjoyed your presence. As he now stared at your smooth, naked back facing him on his bed, he ran one hand through his curly, dark hair and sighed. He was not someone who grew attached to people. Feelings were foreign to him. Maybe he never learned how to love, or maybe love was never instilled into his heart. You, however, you had disrupted his whole life.
He blamed it on your laughter, or on the way your eyes glistened whenever you talked about something you liked. You were so innocent, at times. He loved the way your eyes widened and you hummed in delight, whenever he made you try some exotic dish you did not even know the existence of, until the menu was kindly handed to you by the gloved hand of a waiter.
He did not mind spoiling you.
You were young, your delicate features were a blessing to him. You were the sugar he needed in his sour life.
Glancing at your sleeping frame one last time, he reached his hand towards the nightstand, grasping his lighter and his cigarette pack. Another habit of his not even you could help him get rid of. He opened it absent-mindedly, only to realize it was the last one. Perhaps, it was truly time for a change then.
This cigarette was his last one. And you, you were the last woman he would have ever let step into his life. It was time to settle down, after all. He had spent too many nights in random downtown bars, hooking up with strangers he never remembered the name of, only to search for something he never found: warmth.
You were not supposed to be different. You were supposed to he as shallow as the others, but you were not.
It happened eight months ago. Chatting with your friends, drink in hand, you had caught his plum red eyes that infamous saturday night. Ignoring his presence was impossible. A man like him was too charismatic not to draw attention. The way you had tried to resist him, though, that had made him crave you. He stared at you from his stool, shooting captivating glances at you, trying to make you understand that he was demanding your attention. Defiantly, you barely locked eyes with him, almost making him lose his patience. In other circumstances, he would have probably picked someone else to give him the proper attention he demanded, but there was something about you that made his blood boil.
He wanted you that night.
When you suddenly stood up and slided onto the stool next to his one, still pretending not to see him, he chuckled. You were a delicacy, a rosebud in a nest of thorns ready to wound him, but he was old enough to know how to play his cards right.
“A double whisky, please” you asked the bartender, but Muzan interjected in your conversation.
“It’s on me” he smoothly said, half-lidded eyes staring at the liquid into his own glass.
It irked you. Did he just buy you a drink?
“Yeah, it’s on him” you replied sassily then, averting your eyes from the barman to look at him. He was handsome, elegant, older than you. His cologne pierced your nostrils as you leaned slightly closer to him to search for his eyes, the red eyes he had made sure you would have never been able to shake off of your mind ever again.
“Apparently, you’ve finally got the hint” Muzan lowly said, twirling the rum into the crystal glass before drinking it down in one gulp and gently settling it back onto the counter.
You grinned and propped your elbow onto the marble green surface in front of you, your chin rested on the palm of your hand as you watched the barman grasp a bottle to fill your glass. It was thrilling the way he felt so self-assured, his presence alone was enough to make your head spin.
“Don’t flatter yourself. I was just thirsty” you said, earning a chuckle from him.
“You could have asked the barmar to refill your glass from the table” he pointed out, shifting his position to turn his body around and face you properly.
Your cheeks flushed up and, when the glass of whisky was slided towards you, you were quick to grasp it to focus on something else that was not him. You failed so effortlessly though.
“What is it that you want?” you asked him eventually, raising your glass towards your mouth and biting down on the rim softly, before taking a sip of the liquor. It burned down your throat, just like his eyes burned on your skin.
Muzan did not miss his chance and let his eyes travel up and down your small frame. You were perfect, perfect for what he had in mind. Smaller than him, delicate and bold. Being a CEO took away his energy, he needed a distraction and you were a good one. Too precious not to ruin.
He leaned forward, his hot breath fanning your earlobe as he grinned and moistened his upper lip thoughtfully. It was clear that you were affected by his actions. He could see the way your breath hitched and the way your grip on the glass tightened significantly as he spoke “Frankly, just your mouth around my cock” he whispered only for you to hear.
Your eyes widened and you inhaled sharply, as his words sank in. He had no filters and you could not blame him for it. Why? It was probably the force of habit. A man like him could snap his fingers and obtain what he wanted right away. The thrill of doing such a dirty, lewd thing to a stranger, to a man like him, someone you would have probably never met again was tickling your most dark fantasies.
It took you several seconds to make up your mind. You sighed, gently setting your drink on the counter and glanced at your friends from above your shoulder. They were staring at you curiously, some of them probably wondering what you were about to do in excitement and some of them were honestly analyzing the scene with wary eyes. Indeed, the latter ones were the wisest.
“I have a dignity” you pointed out, darting your eyes back on Muzan.
“Growning up, you’ll find out there are things far way more valuable in life than what other people may think of you” he promptly replied, straightening his necktie casually. He seemed tired and not the kind of man who wanted to hurt you. He was not going to coax you into giving yourself away, he just hoped you would say him ‘yes’.
And you did.
As you two stumbled out of the bar fifteen minutes later, you knew you were probably going to either regret it for your whole life, or look back at it as an exciting adventure you had had with an older man on a boring night. He had told you his name was Muzan Kibutsuji. He had whispered it over your lips, right before pinning you against his car door.
His lips captured yours in a fervent kiss, holding your face with both of his huge hands, as his tongue entered your mouth with expertise and elicited a soft series of moans from your throat. It was not just his experience that blew your mind: it was him. It was clear as he unbuckled his belt, in the privacy of his car, and tangled his fingers through your hair.
He locked eyes with you, searching for the slightest sting of fear. He would have stopped immediately, if he had spotted it. Yet, there was just the hunger of anticipation in those glimmering eyes of yours and he firmly but carefully pushed your head down towards his crotch. With your eyes closed, you did your best to pleasure him. Your tongue twirled around the tip, right over the sensitive spot, making him groan softly in pleasure.
It was exactly what he needed. As you began to suck him off, you were slowly making his problems fade away and stress flow right into your warmth mouth. You almost gagged as he bucked his hips up in pleasure and he lolled his head back into the leather headrest, exhaling through his nostrils. When you were sure he was just going to let you finish him off like that, he surprised you.
“Stop” he breathed out, shifting on his seat to grasp the wallet from his pocket.
As he pulled out a condom from it and ripped it open with his teeth, you stared at him in both excitement and fear. Was he going to simply take you without a proper foreplay? You were about to point it out, when he grasped your jaw and planted a tender, passionate kiss on your lips to silence you.
“I am nothing like those dogs you are used to. I know how to properly stretch out a woman” he whispered, almost offended that you had thought so low of him.
“I didn’t—” you tried to apologize, but he simply scoffed and made the words die on your tongue as he pushed the thin fabric of your panties to the side and began to draw smooth figures eight on your bundle of nerves.
You moaned, blushing faintly in the dark car as you finally met a man who knew how to touch you properly. What did you expect? He was twice your years, a man of class, of power. He had told you himself he was not like the guys you were used to.
“You are beautiful, by the way” he whispered lowly, watching the way you arched your back as he thought you were wet enough to take another step. You hummed, squeezing your eyed shut as you adjusted yourself to his thick fingers. It was too much, it was overwhelming, and you could not believe what was truly happening.
He was so skilled that you had almost forgotten you were in a car, in a desert parking lot. You wanted him, you wanted him more than that, therefore you opened your eyes and gripped his wrist gently as a sign for him to stop his ministrations. You were ready for him. For all of him.
And as you straddled his lap, allowing him to guide your hips down to perfectly sink onto him, you knew things would have never been the same again. The thing was that, despite the rather brute way he had told you what he wanted from you, he did not just fuck you that night. The way his mouth hovered over yours, the way he held you so close to him, as if he was afraid you were going to slip away from him grasp, made feel something more.
There was loneliness in that passion, a void that needed to be filled.
Bouncing on his lap, you tugged at his hair, your thighs trembling as his shaft kissed your cervix and his mouth kissed the exposed skin of your neck. He had finally found it: the warmth of a young heart.
Now, putting his cigarette out on the silver ashtray he keeps on his nightstand, he grinned and rolled on his side. Resting his cheek on the pillow, he watched you. He never grew tired in doing it. You were a piece of art from a private collection, a gem. His fingertips glided down your naked back, trailing up towards the spine and grazing over the shoulderblades. You were his. You were his and no one else’s.
You hummed at the feeling, gently lifting your head to glance up at him. Your sleepy eyes always got him and, although he forced himself not to smile, you could swear his upper lip twitched.
“Hey…” you whispered softly, half-lidded eyes staring at him in adoration.
He did not say a word, he simply stroked your hair as if he wanted to lull you back to sleep. Yet, you had learned to read him and his poker face. There was something on the tip of his tongue.
“What is it?” you inquired, not moving an inch but keeping your eyes locked with his red ones.
“Nothing”.
“Liar. I know that look on your face. You want to ask me something. — you replied, sitting up and letting the silky blankets pool down over your waist — Speak up, Kibutsuji” you invited him to talk, poking his biceps with your index.
He loathed your childish ways to make him give up and talk, but he was almost defenseless in front of them. You were his greatest weakness.
“Actually, I got no questions for you. It’s just that… Well, I’m falling for you, I guess” he confessed.
Never in his life he had pulled down his mask like that. However, a love confession from him was overdued. He spoke his mind no matter what. He was not scared of his feelings for you. It was just that, for the first time ever, he did not want to ruin you, as he thought he wanted the night you two met.
You stared at him with your lips slightly parted, your cheeks heating up, as you scooted closer to him and snuggled into his chest. His chest, where you could hear his steady heartbeat, was your favore place to sleep. It comforted you.
“I love you too, Muzan” you mumbled, closing your eyes as you felt his arm flex and wrap you up into a tight embrace. There was no escape.
Maybe it was a trap, maybe it was the highway to paradise. You did not know for how long it would have lasted. All you knew was what you felt and, in that very moment, you wanted him as much as he wanted you.
Until you filled the void in his heart. Until it broke your bones. Until it hurt.
Tags: @mrskokushibo @doumadono @yazzzmints @tired-writer04 I dedicate this piece to you!❤️
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gallusrostromegalus · 29 days
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Ehehe, I see that Josuke Araki has made his way into your script :P
Are there any other JoJo's floating around in Soul Society and beyond?
So I like to populate the background characters of my fic with characters from another series as just a fun reference, but I feel like some people are reading into it a little to much. It's like- well, there's a watsonian perspective on it and a doylist one and a sort of meta-watsonian one.
From the watsonian/in-narrative perspective? You know that line from that Stucky fic everyone loves about "we deserve a soft epilogue?" I like to imagine AUs for main characters where they still live in an animeverse, but are free from the burden of being The Main Character. Usuke Urameshi lives in Karakura town, but he was never The Spirit Detective. He's just some former punk with mild psychic abilities who runs the ramen shop Ichigo goes to sometimes. Josuke is just some guy that has enough power to be a shinigami, but he's just like, rank and file. You see him in crowd shots. They're alternate universe versions of their full powered, main character selves and probably happier than those versions.
From a doylist perspective, it's a fun game of reference tag to play with the reader. A sort of where's Waldo of random characters from related series. Sort of like putting Samuel L Jackson in a bit part in your movie and giving him a purple prop to fiddle with. He's not playing Mace Windu, but for sharp-eyed nerds, he is making a star wars reference. Sometimes it's just for fun, sometimes is a way to lay on some really subtle thematic context. Like overlaying a 8% opacity layer of yellow on a digital piece to give the impression of late afternoon. Nothing explicit. Nothing relevant to the plot. Just a bit of seasoning.
From a meta-watsonian perspective, a lot of how I write fic was influenced by the old Kids WB bumps where the voice actors would play their characters *as though they were actors hanging out on the warner studios lot* Batman was still Batman, but he was also a guy playing Batman on TV. Yugi moto still had the cosmic powers of the millennium puzzle but also complained about how much time he had to spend in hair and makeup. So when you see a character from another series in my fic, they're an alternate universe version of themselves that is Not Relevant To The Plot, and on another level they're like an actor famous on another show, coming in to do a bit part on their friend's show for funsies.
...but mostly I do it so I don't have to make up names for OCs I'm only using for four seconds.
To actually answer your question: Yuzu is a HUGE fan of this educational YouTube channel run by Marine Biologist Jotaro Kujo. He's the only guy who gives echinoderms their due. She shows Ukitake and Unohana and they like him a lot too. Unohana writes to him to put him in touch with Hanataro and the two put together a major survey of venomous marine life with potential medical applications. Ukitake just likes fish :).
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agustdef · 10 months
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Will You
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Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Black!Reader
Genre: Fluff; Idol AU/Idolverse
Word Count: 3k
Warning: Light Language
Rating: PG-13
Beta Reader: @hobeemin
A/N: This was due to idk and I have so many ideas that I simply didn’t write a ff that ended up posted for much too long. So here’s to hoping to finishing these ideas.
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“And without further ado, I am more than happy to introduce you to our keynote speaker Ms. YN LN.”
Clapping fills the room, and Jungkook joins in a beat late. His mind wandered as he’d listened to the other speakers for almost an hour. They’d all had interesting things to say, but something about being in a room with all these people with a person at a podium felt too much like school. Plus, a few of them seemed just to enjoy hearing themselves talk.
He refused to admit that to YN, though.
His beautiful girlfriend tried to give him an out when he said he’d come with her for this event. Told him how boring it would be and that she didn’t mind if he just did something else until she was done. Of course, he pushed for it, and she relented with one final warning about how he’d be bored as hell. To a degree, he’d known that going into it, but he wanted to support her. And to see her in her element.
Though they both work in the same industry, they’re on different ends of it. Jungkook as an artist and occasional writer, while YN worked legal. Their first encounter was when an American artist friend of his invited her out to dinner as a thank you for helping him with a contract issue with his label. They’d made him promises and tried to backtrack when it was time for the new contract. YN worked at a firm that specialized in that kind of thing, though they usually worked with smaller artists. His friend had been her big break, bringing in business and a promotion.
Of course, Jungkook was too much of a punk to ask her for her number at that meeting. He was too nervous about if it was forward, and he didn’t want to mess with the mostly professional nature of the event. But he got her card, and that was enough.
Until they kept bumping into each other at the more business-like industry events. Well, half bumping into each other and the other half him hunting down her name on programs and making sure to show up to those panels or events. It made him feel like a little bit of a stalker, but to combat that, he finally got his shit together and asked her out after running into her at a restaurant. 
Grateful to not be turned down was an understatement.
As they got to know each other, he felt himself fall hard and fast. She was perfect. Not in how one thinks when they hear the word, but in how that worked for him. That made their relationship work through the lows as well as the highs. 
I love you slipped out of his mouth five months in. 
If that didn’t explain why he put himself through this boredom, nothing, else would at least not in a way that made sense. His members still sometimes looked at him crazy with how he felt about her and how he could only sometimes find the words to explain it in a coherent way.
“I promise to try not making this too boring for y’all. I can not, however promise it won’t be boring at all. My line of work has to have some pitfalls besides all that paperwork,” YN joked.
The entire room laughs. It’s not the funniest thing in the world, but the way she delivers it and the energy she exudes as a person gets to people. It’s why Jungkook lets out a laugh that’s a little too loud and draws the attention of those around him. And of YN, though she doesn’t look his way to make that clear. He just nose from the way she pauses for a second longer, and her smile widens. 
Embarrassed isn’t even the right word for him at the moment. Part of him wants to flee the room, but he stays in his seat. It helps that anyone who side eyes him switches to being shocked to see him there. Being identified as a member of BTS is what he can handle; being embarrassed is not, despite what his variety show content and the lives over the years might suggest.
To let the feeling pass, he focused on the stage. Well, on YN.
“For those who don’t know me, I’m YN LN, and I've been working at Heights Law for the last six or seven years,. We specialize in fair contracts for indie artists. From things with their label to tours, merchandise, the people they hire, and even contracts between members if it’s a group. About thirty-five percent of those we work with don’t even have a label they’re signed to and don’t want to. And then about twenty percent of our clients are more mainstream artists looking for the same services.
We don’t work with any sort of label because we feel it ties us to worrying too much about keeping on their good side when trying to figure things out. And while we are not on a mission to do anything that would be, for the lack of a better word, line crossing with the people we are trying to get to sign the contracts, our clients come first. That’s made us stand out in a way y’all may have heard about a time or two. I’d like to personally apologize for making you sit through articles about a certain label trying to screw over up and coming artist Minx and all the weird things that were honestly not so weird about her tour rider.”
Again laughter, but with some whispers and grumbles thrown in. That entire situation had everyone in the industry confused as hell, and for the last few months, they thought Minx was trying to be greedy until everything was settled and it was shown that all her asks weren’t as crazy as they’d seemed. Even Jungkook found himself looking at YN like she’d lost it with every new bit of information that was released. He’d asked her about it, but she gave him a look, and he had to wait out the outcome like everyone else. 
“And for this, I think Minx is the perfect situation to discuss. I mean, when else will you see how things can go when a former lawyer turned pop star wants to sign with the label she used to work for but knows all their tricks.”
That was all it took to have people enthralled. After everything settled, everyone still had a million questions about it, but they were still waiting for someone at the firm to answer them. Jungkook had the fortune of dating YN around the time, so he got her to tell him, and Minx had invited them somewhere and told him more. So, he knew everything.
Which meant he could just stare at her. He didn’t think of himself as the type to be much of a creepy person, even if him trying to run into her wasn’t a clear indication of that. That and that looking at her was one of his favorite pastimes. 
YNs cute.
He would and did use a million words to describe her. But the first thought in his brain when he saw her was how cute she was, and he felt his heart triple in size from that alone. Her genuine smile and soft features do a lot to counteract the fact that she’s only an inch shorter than me, which throws people off when they meet her and had only seen her face before.
Those legs of hers, when she wears heels, drive Jungkook absolutely feral. And he has to fight off the thought of them as his mind spirals. He focused instead on the light tint of pink pushing through the brown skin because of all the bright lighting, the way there’s a stray piece of hair not as curly as the rest that she swears isn’t from heat damage, and she can fix, the soft red of her lips, and the way every part of her body seems light and open as she talks about a subject she loves. A look he’s familiar with and is how he knows she looks at him. 
More than anything, Jungkook is sure that YN loves him as much as he loves her, and like a revelation, he knows how much that is. How much space that love takes up in him, to the point that sometimes it feels like it’s overflowing. Right now, it feels like it’s overflowing.
“Questions?”
That one word pulls him out of his head, but he looks at YN with a clarity he didn’t have a few minutes ago, let alone a few hours ago.
Someone clears their throat, but his eyes don’t leave her.
“Why not just go with what the label wanted? I mean, sure, Minx had the background, but that shouldn’t make her any different than any other artist. Should she not be thankful to get into the place twice on different sides of it?”
There was agreement in the crowd, but it died out quickly with everyone else's quietness drop quiet.
Despite the shift in vibes, there’s a smile on YN’s face. 
“Why do you think that? Is it because others don’t have that same knowledge? I can see how that could be seen as unfair because it is. But because she has the background,, she used it to help herself best,, which made it so we could best help her and those in the future. However, I can assure you that they changed their contract language a lot since then. Height and many other firms who deal with them and this kind of thing all saw a shift for the better and for the worst with them. So, while you may wonder why Minx didn’t simply take what she should be lucky to have gotten from them, I hope you’re settled by the fact that unless the rare thing happens. Someone else does the same thing, no one else will be able to give the insight on how to best make the next contract work for the client in the way she did.”
The response is assertive, sarcastic, and professionally annoyed. It doesn’t leave room for anyone to say anything that doesn’t make them look any more like an ass. But the man at the podium opens his mouth a few times to try and figure out what to say. In the end, he walks away from the mic with his head down. Jungkook is sure that if it weren’t for pride, he would walk out of the room altogether.
“Any more questions,” YN said after a moment.
There’s one that Jungkook has. One he needs answered, but he finds himself glued to his seat.
Several people go up and ask their questions, all of them better than the first one, though some of them toe the line. There are also a few that Jungkook would deem flirting, but they don’t bother him. Not with the thoughts swarming around in his head.
Before he knows it, she answers the last question, and everyone is dismissed. A few linger to talk, but with this day being so packed, everyone wants to rush off to the next talk or event happening.
He sits in the seat for about fifteen minutes before she walks up to him, and when she puts her hand on his shoulder, he looks up at her startled, even though he watched her approach him.
“Ready to go?”
Jungkook’s mouth opens and closes as he stares at her. He feels all over the place, but none of it’s uncertainty or doubt.
“I have a question,” he managed.
“Huh?”
“I have a question. I didn’t get the chance to ask it in there. I was… I’m nervous to ask it, and I couldn’t do it in there.”
YN frowned. “You can always ask me anything, my love. No need to be nervous about it. Plus, I’m sure yours is better than some of the bullshit I get asked in general when it comes to work.”
For a moment, Jungkook says nothing. All he can do is stare at her and try to keep his breathing normal. The latter is the hardest part, but YN takes his hand in hers and squeezes it tight.
Taking a breath, he gets to his feet, takes both of her hands in his, and stares into her eyes. He’s more than sure about what he has to say.
“Will you marry me?”
“Yes.”
Question nor answer was said with any hesitation. However, Jungkook could tell that YN was still trying to process what was happening. He was too, but that wasn’t important now.
After a second, Jungkook released one of her hands, and with the other firm in his grasp, he led her out of the room. He hears her ask a question, but it doesn’t fully register in his brain. All his focus is on weaving through the crowd of people and out the door of the convention center. The place isn’t as isolated as some can be, so he walked past the parking lot where his car is and made his way past the hotel they were staying at.
“Where are we going?”
“Jungkook?”
“Jay?”
There’s a loud exhale too, but Jungkook paid it no mind. He’s on a mission. 
“For goodness sake, Kookie.”
YN matches his pace though she’s clearly confused by what the hell is happening. He knew he should say something, but couldn’t find his words just yet, so he kept walking until ten minutes later, they were in front of a popular celebrity-use jewelry store.
A few of the things he bought for himself and others - YN included - were from here, so he had a code that they gave him to get in. The door buzzed them in, and the moment that they walked in, there was a person there and ready to help. Though it might not be obvious to most, it was clear from the knowing smile on the woman’s face she knew what was up. 
Didn’t stop Jungkook from being so flustered, though. 
“Hi. Engagement rings. I mean, we would like to see engagement rings.”
Without a word, she directed them to the back of the store. They followed close behind her, and when they entered the room, she’s taking them to another person is setting down a tray of rings, with others sitting on a cart behind him.
Yeah, she knew.
Once everything is on the table, the man leaves, and they’re directed to sit. The woman who welcomed them stands on the other side of the table.
“This is a collection of all the rings we sell in the store. Though there are others, we can have custom made if what you see in front of you isn’t the right fit or you want a mix of styles. There’s a mix of the traditional sort and the non-traditional. Some are even without diamonds. Please, take your time to look through them and see if something catches your eye.”
Then she’s gone, and all the sound goes with her.
“We’re doing this?”
“You asked me.”
“True.”
Jungkook finally turns and looks at her, and despite all the nerves he’s feeling about if she’ll take it back, there’s a smile on her face. And a lack of anxiety like what’s going through him. Though he can tell, she’s a little thrown off by it all.
“I did. And I want to.”
“Then we better start looking, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
All the tension that was once there leaves the room, and they both turn their attention to the hundreds of rings in front of them. It’s an overwhelming site, but they dive into them. Jungkook tries to get YN to try some on, but she says that she doesn’t want to just yet, so they set them on the empty tray right in front of them. 
Each one feels perfect to Jungkook, but not right. More of the diamond rings that look how he’s used to seeing American engagement rings look like end up on the tray, which isn’t much of a shock with YN’s usual preferences.
A tray marked as morganite is second to last, and Jungkook almost avoids it, but then one ring calls to him. His eyes zone in on it, and he reaches for it just as YN gasps. His neck nearly breaks when he turns to look at her, but the slight pain means nothing as he follows her gaze to the ring he was reaching for.
Without another thought, he picks it up, takes her hand, and slides it into place. Though it’s a little loose, it fits her finger. The oval champagne colored gem is on a white gold band and surrounded on either side with diamonds that fan out, almost like leaves on the stem of a flower. They wrap perfectly around her finger and stop before they reach the palm side. Everything about it is YN. Is them.
“Perfection,” YN whispered.
“Yeah.”
And like the whirlwind that this was, Jungkook was happy to find that they had the same ring, the right size, on the premises, and he paid for it right then and there. It only left YN’s finger so they could clean it, and then it was on again.
They walked out of the room, and both were on a cloud. All those nerves Jungkook felt before were gone, but something else replaced it.
“I guess we have a wedding to plan. I can’t imagine when we’d even have it,” YN said.
“Now.”
Not the least bit startled, she turned to him with a raised brow. 
“Now?”
“I… I don’t know. Maybe?”
Silence sat between them for what felt like forever, and then YN turned her attention back to the jeweler.
“We need to see wedding bands, too,” she said, then turned back to Jungkook. “And you need to start making phone calls.”
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ladykailitha · 9 months
Text
Well Met By Moonlight Part 1
Hi!!! So...I know I don't usually put out stories until they're a lot further into the story (side-eyes soulmate AU and Boy With a Bat), but this one is begging to escape confinement and I have fallen in love with the story so...
The title is a play on the line from Midsummer's Night's Dream, "Ill met by moonlight, Titania." In which Oberon is not pleased to see her. So I twisted it a bit to make it more romantic.
You can read the world building here!
Also if there are weird tense changes I'm so sorry!!! I tried to find all of them but I'm not sure I caught all of them!!!
*
Steve ran blindly through the trees, branches and roots raising to slow his progress to safety. He stopped for breath behind a tree, his leg aching and bleeding from the bullet wound.
"Fuck!" he cursed under his breath. He had been hearing the rumblings from the high school and beyond. He had heard that there were certain people in town picking up metaphorical pitch forks and torches against the supernatural community. He should have listened more carefully, but more than one of his pack had dismissed it as baseless rumors.
Steve closed his eyes as he fought back the tears that sprang up in the sheer agony he felt. He bit back a groan through clenched teeth. He couldn’t shift due to the silver and because of that, he couldn't heal either.
He could hear them getting closer, crashing and stumbling through the underbrush like a newborn deer. He scoffed in disdain, at least he was wounded, what was their excuse?
He tried to slow his breathing, this was no time for snarky commentary. For the first time in his life, he felt real fear. Not the jittery nerves of asking a girl out or the thrilling danger of fighting older and stronger wolves for the title of alpha. No this was true fear.
Steve opened his eyes slowly as he weighed his choices. He could either keep going and hope he made it to the pack compound, or he could make a break for the trailer park as it was closer.
He squeezed his eyes shut and ran for the tree line. He was almost there when... SNAP!
He screamed as his wounded leg got caught in a foothold trap. He tried to wrestle the trap off his leg, but the trap like the bullet was silver. A twig snapped to his left and he looked up.
He was surrounded by five men. Even in the dim light he could make out who they were. Jason Carver, Patrick McKinney, Andy Miller, Chance Nelson, and Josh Bentley. All wannabe hunters.
Jason was the worst. He had thought his pretty little girlfriend Chrissy Cunningham was human and she turned out to be a vampire. He was so disgusted he started trying to stir up the town against its supernatural population. And from the looks of it, he was succeeding.
And then his world went black.
*
When Steve came to, he could feel the pain of silver all over. His head, his neck, his wrists, and ankles. He lifted his head and realized that they were more than just five punk kids with too much free time on their hands. They were sick fuckers.
He was completely naked, his neck, hands, and feet were bound to a cross with thick silver cord and on his head he could feel the sting of silver thorns pressing into his scalp.
Andy whistled and all five of them stood up.
Jason picked up a metal baseball bat and dragged it behind him as he sauntered up to Steve. “Well, looks like the pup is finally awake. Hey little doggy, want a treat?”
The other boys laughed.
“This attempted murder, you assholes!” Steve spat, spitting blood in their faces.
Jason wiped off his face with a grimace. “No, it’s hunting. You’re monsters, all of you. The vampires and the werewolves. It’s time the humans rose up and took our town back. And we’re starting with you.”
Jason readied his bat when suddenly there was a snarling sound.
Steve could hear the flap of giant wings, but his captors could not.
Patrick screamed when something big and dark landed in front of him. In the dim light of their distant fire, they could only make out the shape.
It stood on pair of digitigrade legs, that ended in large cat-like paws. It’s giant, leathery wings were unfurled to its massive fifteen foot span. Its red eyes glittered with malice and rage. From what they could see of the hands, the ended in long claws or talons and the fingers were tipped black.
The beast in front of them roared.
Andy was the first to turn to tail. “You said werewolves! You didn’t say anything about vampires!” he screamed over his shoulder.
“Get back here!” Jason hissed. “We have silver you moron! He can’t hurt us!”
The vampire chuckled darkly and took a a step toward Jason, cocking his head to side, just before he lunged right at him.
*
Wayne smelled the blood of a wounded werewolf first. He straightened up in his comfy recliner and scented the air. Eddie, who had been preoccupied playing his guitar, stopped.
He tilted his head toward the direction Wayne was scenting.
Wayne made a face. “Silver. I told Sheriff Powell those boys would be trouble.”
Eddie nodded. Even before Wayne changed him into a vampire, he knew that Jason Carver and his ilk were bad news.
“Go!” Wayne growled. “I’ll inform the authorities.”
Eddie grinned. He was finally going to get a little payback for the bullying in high school tonight. He leaped from the trailer and had transformed before he even reached the arc of his jump. His wings extended and with two mighty beats he was airborne.
*
Now that he was in the air he could smell what Wayne had. The cloying scent of werewolf blood. It was richer and darker then human blood with a kind of spice to it, like clove or cardamon.
And it was absolutely tainted with silver.
Those idiots! Eddie snarled. Not only had the hunted a werewolf just yards away from their compound they had also hunted so close to the trailer park. It was like they were asking for hell to be brought down on their heads.
He ran his tongue over his fangs as he sought out his prey. He swooped down about one yards feet from Forest Hills and caught sight of the trap the hunters had used to capture the werewolf.
A chill ran down his spine. Those types of traps were considered inhumane to animals he couldn’t imagine someone wanting to use it on a sentient being for fuck’s sake.
Eddie quickly dismantled the trap and disposed of the pieces safely. He didn’t want anyone to get hurt on it, human or supe.
After he was done he noticed that some of the blood of the werewolf had gotten on his hands. He brought one finger to his lips for a taste and god it tasted divine.
It also told him he had a much bigger problem on his hands then a wounded werewolf on his hands.
The bastards had taken Steve. The Harrington pack alpha.
Fuck, fuck, fuck! Eddie thought as he kicked at the forest floor.
This was bad.
*
Having tasted the blood, all his senses were filled with the scent of Steve Harrington. Eddie had to stop and narrow in on one sense. His sense of smell. He blocked out everything else.
Eddie launched himself back into the air again. This time he was able to sense were they had taken him.
It led him to a small clearing with a lit fire and the scent of blood was all over the camp site and everywhere else for about one hundred yards in all directions.
Eddie had to begrudgingly give them that one. If Steve hadn’t been the alpha, that would have confused anyone trying to find him. But it seemed like these idiots didn’t realize that being the alpha came with a shit ton of perks.
Being able to change someone into a werewolf, the ability to banish people from the pack, the ability to bond with a mate (other werewolves mated, but it was more like a marriage to humans), and the ability to have the whole pack know where you are based on your scent.
Eddie wasn’t completely sure about the magics on that, but it fascinated him deeply.
And then he saw Steve and a growl was ripped from his throat against his will.
They weren’t leaving anything to chance. Either Steve died from the blood loss and not being able to heal because of all the silver or he would suffocate from being fucking crucified.
And then Eddie folded his wings and dropped to the forest floor in a dive.
*
Steve watched in utter fascination and admiration as the vampire played with and chased his prey.
Fuck.
He was in too much pain if thought it was sexy as hell. He was lightheaded and nauseous from the blood loss and the silver burning into his skin. He chest hurt and he was starting to struggle to breathe.
He lowered his head to his chest, trying to catch his breath, but he felt it rattle around his chest.
Suddenly there were flashing lights and shouts from men other then the hunters.
Steve must have blacked out again, because in front of him was a terrified Sheriff Powell and very angry Eddie Munson.
“This is the price of your inaction!” Eddie was snarling.
“They are just kids!” the sheriff hissed back.
“Not if they can do that to the alpha of the largest pack in the county,” Eddie snapped. “I will make sure that coven is made aware of this as well as the pack.”
Sheriff Powell gulped. “You wouldn’t!”
Eddie leaned into his space. “You should have thought of that before you did nothing!”
Sheriff Powell hung his head. He looked back up at Steve and then he nodded. He walked back to the other police officers and cars.
Steve suddenly felt cool hands touch his face gently.
“Hey, Stevie,” Eddie murmured. “You awake, babe?”
He lifted his head and Eddie hissed in sympathy. “They beat you good.”
Steve didn’t even feel the pain in his face not when everything else hurt as much if not worse. “I’m dying...”
Eddie cursed. “Let’s get you down from there before that can happen, okay? Just hold on, I’ve got you.”
Steve heard a crack and suddenly he was being lowered gently to the ground, face first.
“Sorry about the dirt in your face, Stevie,” Eddie murmured, “But this is the easiest way to get the silver off of you.”
Steve tuned his head and nodded the best he could.
CRACK!
The wood splintered and he felt the wood and silver band slide off his left arm. He wanted to immediately tuck it under his chest to protect it from further harm, but he was too tired to even so much as twitch his wrist.
Slowly, one by one, Eddie broke the cross around him until Steve was free.
Eddie rolled him over and pulled him into his embrace.
Steve reached up and stroked Eddie’s cheek. “Thank you.”
Eddie blushed. “You’re okay now.”
He reached down and tried to break the chain across Steve’s neck. But it sapped his super-human strength and no matter how hard he tugged, it remained firmly in place.
“Sorry,” he told Steve. “I can’t break it, but I can at least get the crown off, so it doesn’t muss your pretty hair.”
Steve laughed. “It’s okay, this isn’t the first time I’ve had a silver collar and I’m sure it won’t be the last.”
Eddie winced at that because who the fuck would do something like that to him.
Eddie tenderly propped Steve up against a tree and tore several ribbons from the bottom of his shirt and gently wrapped Steve’s neck in the soft black cotton. “I hope this will help keep it off your skin so that you can heal enough not to die before I get you to the compound.”
“How are you going to get me home?” Steve asked. “Won’t the silver sap your strength?”
Eddie chuckled. “Only if it touches my skin, but even if that wasn’t the case, I’d still be able to carry you from here to there, no problem.”
Steve threw his head back and laughed. “You been bench pressing behind everyone’s back there, Munson?”
Eddie scooped him up without effort and cradled him to his chest. “You aren’t any heavier than a drum kit, sweetheart, and I’ve hauled those plenty of times. Plus I was in stage crew in high school. Those backdrops aren’t lightweights let me tell you.”
“All right, you win,” Steve conceded.
Eddie looked down at Steve and could already tell that even with the bullet in his leg, Steve was looking better.
He walked all the way to the compound, afraid of flying because he hadn’t flown with someone before and was terrified he’d drop Steve. Steve and he murmured to each other whole trip, growing fonder with each step.
Steve felt safe again, wrapped in the arms of this metalhead vampire. When he ran from the hunters he never thought he’d feel that ever again.
In a time that was far too long and not quick enough at the same time, they arrived at the entrance the pack.
“Okay, Stevie,” Eddie said gently placing him on the ground. “If I walk in there, your pack is going to rip me to shreds.”
“I know,” Steve mumbled. “I’m grateful you got me this far. Thank you.”
“I’ll check up on you tomorrow when you’re all healed, though,” Eddie promised.
Steve cupped Eddie’s cheek again. “I look forward to it.”
Eddie blushed a dark red in the moonlight. “Get well, alpha.” And then he took off into the night as three keepers came rushing to the line of trees to help Steve.
He smiled ruefully and then set off for home.
***
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13
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screamforyani · 10 months
Text
family ties
Tumblr media
pairing ↠ miguel o’hara x (f) shapeshifter!reader
genre .. warnings ↠ angst, violence, recurring mentions of death and murder, shapeshifter!reader, non-spiderperson reader, enemies to lovers esque, parenting!au, neighbor!au
summary ↠ six years ago, your ex-fiancé and the father of your baby was killed in a fatal incident involving the head of alchemax. ever since then, you’ve devoted yourself to a life of crime to take care of your daughter. by day, you fall deeper in love with your neighbor, and by night, you come face-to-face with spider-man.
word count ↠ 14.5k
a/n ↠ most of this is set in mc’s universe so anything’s canon here. this is a repost!!!! feedback is appreciated!!!!!!
if anybody asked, you would tell them that doing a crime lord's bidding was nothing to write home about. it was assignment after assignment to keep a roof over your head and putting up with a nineteen-year-old (at least you think he's nineteen) with a reckless mouth. his tongue had gotten him into unimaginable trouble, that was for sure. not just him, but you. curse you for being benevolent enough to not let the poor kid die.
but on the other hand, it could sometimes be rewarding. sometimes.
the venue was sizeable and bustling with rich people. as expected, given the occasion. rod malone-fisk would be hosting an event with his daddy’s money, though most significantly, somewhere upstairs lodged their family’s priceless gemstone.
drawn to your partner’s chest, you could easily pass for a lovely rich couple eager to stuff yourselves full of expensive appetizers, which you had to subtly swat hobie’s hand to keep him from grabbing. he was sporting a tailored red suit to tone with your deep crimson gown, each of you donning masks to match (given that it was a masquerade). 
it was strangely foreign to see hobie outside of his typical punk fits. none of the boots and chains and leather jackets - which looked cool on him, not that you would ever admit it - though he still had his unshakable attitude.
your partner in crime scanned the menu with disdain. “have you seen the menu? what the hell is a beef bourguignon?”
“you butchered the shit out of that,” you told him none too politely, wincing at the horrid pronounciation. “and stop being a baby. i can make you something later if you want.”
hobie dramatically put his hand over his heart. “you know, you treat me like your own son.”
“somebody has to,” you mumbled under your breath.
hobie obviously heard that, and before he could make a comment that would more than likely blow your cover, marsai interrupted through your ear pieces, “um, guys?”
hobie, sobering, asked, “any updates, mar?”
“i just hacked the surveillance system. as expected, the door to the diamond room has tight security. now, i can get you a distraction in roughly two hours, but the rest of the weight is yours to pull.”
marsai was your guy in the chair and that was her way of saying that she could get you both in, but she couldn’t get you out. 
“got it,” you said. 
for half an hour, you and hobie pretended to give a damn about what rodney had to offer, other than his father’s precious gemstones. even through the mask you could tell hobie was bored half to death by the monologue and the second it was over he didn’t hesitate to drag you to the dance floor.
the plan was etched into your memory. including the initial, backup, and safety plan. you were just waiting for marsai to give you the go-ahead. biding your time, one would put it. then you’d bolt upstairs, steal the gem, and book it.
this boring event being a test of your patience was your only concern. it gave you too much time to fret, to worry about what meadow was doing and if she was alright. of course, she’s alright, you thought to yourself. you left her in the most trustworthy of hands. nobody else would do.
“marsai, you’re killing me. it’s been fifty-leven hours,” hobie groaned impatiently for only you and the woman in his earpiece to hear.
you snickered tiredly and added in agreement, “give me any more chances to drink vodka and i might not be able to walk in a straight line. let alone carry out the mask.”
“okay, okay. give me, like, five minutes.”
devon, your getaway driver, tapped into the line and said, “hurry up. i’ve been waiting outside for like an hour.”
“only an hour?” you asked curiously. to be honest, he had been so silent that you’d forgotten he was even there. 
“oh, yeah. i got hungry and went for a burger.”
hobie snarled, voice dripping with obvious envy, “lucky you.”
you laughed.
not even a minute later, the fire alarms began to cry, alerting everyone about a potential fire. you immediately made a beeline for the stairs in spite of the crowd of people flocking towards the exit. you wanted to throw your stilettos over the railing and possibly hit rodney square in the head.
hobie was right behind you. the diamond was in a room down the hall on the far right end of the corridor. it was the perfect place to corner a potential thief.
you looked suspicious running the opposite direction as everybody else, but fortunately for you and your partner, everyone was too scared for their life to question you. even if they noticed, they sure as hell wouldn’t stop and ask why. not with their lives in jeopardy. 
marsai announced in your ears, “most of the security have evacuated their posts, but there’s a couple coming upstairs. they’re not far behind you.”
“i’ll take care of it,” hobie said without leaving much room for argument. he spared you one little look before spinning on his heels.
you drew your gun from the slit in your long gown and continued to pace down the hall, never stopping no matter what. time was most valuable in predicaments like this and you had very little. you needed to be calculated. 
there was no security guarding the door when you arrived. piece of cake, you thought to yourself smugly. and jotted down a mental note to definitely reward yourself with a sickly sweet desert after tonight. 
barging inside, you instantly spotted the gem and wasted not another second to swipe a tiny device from your thigh holster, hurling it at the glass case. it ruptured on impact, shattering on itself. you swiped the jewel and turned.
another voice spooked you and abruptly said, “thank you. i’ll take that.”
the stranger didn’t even let you get a word in before he was snapping the priceless gem out of your clutches, and in a blink, he was running for the door. it only took one glance for you to recognize your unexpected company as the masked vigilante known as spider-man. 
you hated that guy. kind of. on the one hand, you weren’t against him making new york city a safer place for your daughter, but on the other hand, all he did was get in the way of your work and you needed to be able to provide for her.
you aimed your weapon, but spider-man was quick to smoothly slip to the side, quite literally dodging a bullet without even turning around once. “nice shot,” he taunted, pursuing his escape unscathed.
hot on his heels, your stilettos clicked loudly against the cool marble floor. spider-man couldn’t even made it out the door before you were on him, sending him off of his feet. he swore under his breath but never dropped the gem, and you feared he would destroy it with with his grudging clasp. before you could move again, he stole your gun no longer strapped to your thigh, grabbing it with his webs and tossing it across the room.
“how clever,” you snarled, snatching the gem and running the opposite direction.
the masked self-proclaimed superhero charged after you with featherlight, nimble steps that you matched with a graceful agility. you didn’t bother to try to take back your weapon, because you weren’t aiming to wound or maim and there was no need for a body count. 
the two of you danced around the broken case, careful not to slip in glass shards. it reminded you of children playing tag. with you holding the weapon now, you were undoubtedly it.
spider-man pranced around the glass, walking in a circle. he could have easily taken you down and he knew it. he was bigger than you, quicker than you, and stronger than you, but he didn’t particularly want to use his strength on you.
“i don’t want to hurt you,” admitted spider-man in a way that almost came off as a warning. he was stepping around you in the way someone would walk around a sleeping dragon.
you scoffed, “oh, don’t worry, baby. you won’t.”
the feeling was not mutual. you promptly grabbed some glass shards in your black gloves - never taking your eyes off of him - and chucked them his direction. the stranger missed them narrowly, dancing out of their way. you had to give credit where credit was due. this human spider was better than any opponent before him.
in the second it took him to skate out of harm’s way, spider-man inched closer to you, enough for the diamond to be at arm’s length of his body. you slid, the jewel taking to the air. he smoothly caught you and the diamond in his arms all in the same breath, and your shock granted him a few seconds leeway for escape.
for a second, you were too stunned to take action. then, you noticed he was getting away and it wore off as quickly as it came, with you right behind him. 
you took off one of your stilettos and chucked it towards him with superhuman speed like a weapon, and he swore again, whirling around quickly enough to catch the other one before it could strike him too. “woman, you’re insane,” he hissed, eyeing you darkly as you approached him.
“i’ve heard that one before,” you teased, eyes still on the prize. “do better.”
you reached for his mask and he quickly caught your hand before you could reveal his identity, though with your spare hand you snatched the jewel while he was off guard and made a beeline for the exit, your bare feet slapping against the floor. jesus fucking christ, where the hell was hobie when you needed him?
spider-man flung the broken glass case in front of the door with his webs in a final attempt to prevent you from fleeing, immediately giving chase. it was too bad that you had already suddenly shifted towards the window, making him stop short of the broken shards, and stood at the edge of the tall window with the gem pressed to your bosom.
“this has truly been fun, spidey,” you told him, just as you fell out of the window. 
and he would have caught you. he would have stopped going easy on you, would have wrapped this tango up if it weren’t for the fact that you were nowhere to be found. he peered out of the window and saw nobody falling to their death. he crawled up the building and swung from place to place, but it was like you had disappeared in the shadows.
literally.
crawling undetected across the gloomy crevices of the building before taking to the air, you made it to the other side of the building and to the getaway car.
hobie was sitting in the backseat and was baffled when he heard the gem drop just before he saw a jet-black raven that he recognized as your go-to bird identity. “oh, hey,” he said coolly. “how’d it go?”
you transformed back into your original form and hobie glanced away. it was never a process he wanted to look at. not some perfectly animated transition like in the movies. you ignored him and said, “devon, drive.”
“it’s about time,” devon said, speeding off.
“my bad. i had a surprise guest,” you droned, massaging the balls of your feet while hobie placed the gem in the front seat and even wrapped the seatbelt around what would’ve been its chest if it had one. which wasn’t the most brilliant idea, given that rodney was definitely going to report it missing and though the windows were tinted, the roof of the car was down.
devon pushed, “as in?”
“as in spider-man,” you replied coolly. jesus, your feet were killing you. marsai should not have let you walk around in stilettos for hours.  no matter the reward of your sacrifice.
hobie was none too pleased by the intervention. “how in the hell did he know we were going to be there?”
you could see devon’s baffled face from the rear-view mirror. “that’s something to have marsai follow up on.”
you shook your head, bemused and engrossed in thought. your first encounter with spider-man. how exciting. “he caught me when i was about to fall even after i threw glass at him.”
“you were about to fall?” hobie asked, amused. “what is it you always say? never get caught slipping? you quite literally-”
“never get caught slipping. i know. thanks,” you finished, finally clicking your seatbelt into place. 
“aw, shit. she’s in love with spider-man,” devon quipped, earning a sharp glare from the backseat.
hobie laughed. obnoxiously. 
“can you guys shut the hell up already?” you hissed. “i’m just surprised. he treated me better than the two of you even as i came for his life.”
“alright. don’t call us when he throws you in a prison cell,” hobie said blankly.
you rolled your eyes.
the drive was longer than usual because devon wanted to ensure that there were no cops tailing him, aimlessly coasting around town for a while until ultimately taking a very elusive route to your house where he eventually dropped off you and hobie, who didn’t hesitate to remind you about that dinner offer.
when you opened the door to your house, you barely even stepped inside before meadow forwent her coloring book and ran over to you, shouting, “mommy!”
“hey, baby,” you said, watching her short arms wrap around your leg. “how was your day?”
“it was fun. tt took me to the park and she said we can go again tomorrow!” meadow exclaimed giddily, literal stars in her eyes. nothing made you more soft than the sight of your baby girl at the end of a long day.
“that sounds like loads of fun,” you told meadow, gently patting her back.
meadow went to hobie next, calling out for him, and he picked your six-year-old daughter up in his arms. “‘ey up, cheeto. did you make any friends at the park?”
cheeto was the nickname hobie had given your daughter four years back after he saw her eating a bag of cheetos. for whatever reason, it just stuck. everyone called her that, even you every now and then.
“i did,” meadow said, noticably less enthusiastic than before. and it took a lot to get your daughter down in the dumps. she was just so full of life and you wanted her to hold onto that innocence for as long as she could. “but there was this bully. he wouldn’t let me get on the swings.”
that got hobie’s attention, as well as yours. he sat her back down, flexing his muscles and making punching motions. “what? do you want me to handle him for ‘ya? look, i learned some new moves.”
meadow was her giggly self again, watching hobie box the air. 
you, on the other hand, were not happy. you crouched to be eye-level with her and said gently, “if there’s somebody bothering you, cheeto, i can always take to their parents.”
“that won’t be necessary,” came another voice, and you quickly glanced up to see your best friend of many years, lani lee. she was also the one and only person you trusted to babysit your daughter, although you would consider letting hobie watch her for forty-five minutes maximum. “i already talked to the little boy and his parents. he won’t be bothering her any more. i made sure of it.”
“what would i do without you,” you said, standing up to pull your best friend in for a hug while hobie entertained meadow. 
“die of paranoia, probably.”
you rolled your eyes, though she wasn’t wrong. it eased your nerves a lot bit to know your daughter was under the watchful eye of someone like a sister to you. you pulled back, noticing she had her purse in hand, and asked, “you aren’t staying for dinner?”
“oh, no. i can’t. i have a… date,” lani said, the fleeting pause and her constant awkward glimpses between you and meadow making her implications obvious. 
hobie, who also got the memo, snickered. “a date, you say?” 
“stay out of grown folk’s business,” you and lani said simultaneously. 
“mind you, i’m nineteen! i can drink!”
“in london, yes. in brooklyn, no,” you said under your breath, almost hoping he didn’t hear you. you weren’t inclined to have this conversation for the umpteenth time.
“well, i’m gonna head out. you kids have fun,” lani said, slipping out of the house before hobie could make a quip. 
instead, hobie turned to you and asked, “yo, mind if i crash here for the night?”
“you know you can stay whenever you want, hobie,” you told him, heading to the kitchen to prepare dinner. 
“sweet. i’m going to go settle down and i’ll watch cheeto while you cook.”
that’s sweet of him, you thought. you acknowledged him with a nod and immediately washed your hands.
after steaming up the kitchen and donning a more casual outfit you called the youngins out for dinner. hobie, the gentleman he was, helped you set the table and the three of you ate dinner together as if you were one big family. you didn’t mind it. usually, meadow was fed and asleep by the time you got back from work, so you warmed up whatever lani had cooked and ate alone. if lani had time, she’d stay to chitchat, but what was even more rare was you getting home early enough to eat dinner with your daughter.
you made sure lani had whatever resources she needed to take care of meadow and herself. she insisted that you didn’t need to compensate her, but you didn’t care. you couldn’t thank her enough for stepping in when you couldn’t be there like you wanted.
meadow got sleepy after dinner, like she usually did after eating, and you tucked her in, whispering, “goodnight. mommy loves you very much.”
“goodnight. i love you, too. very much,” meadow said sleepily, snuggling her favorite stuffed animal. it was a dragon named cheeto junior, much to your amusement.
you giggled, pressing a kiss to her forehead and turning on her nightlight before shutting the door behind yourself.
then, you grabbed a plate you’d set aside and wrapped up and you even made a total of twenty steps to the front door before hobie appeared out of nowhere - you could of swore he was washing the dishes a minute ago - and asked nosily, “is that for the miguel guy you’re crushing on?”
“jesus fucking christ, hobie. i’m not crushing on him,” you said, maybe a little in denial. sitting at the table eating dinner with someone other than your shadow made your chest hurt, which factored into the denial. “he just helps out a lot. mows the yard and… stuff.”
“and stuff,” hobie repeated with air quotes, because apparently you needed an echo, as if you weren’t loud enough. “that’s rubbish.”
you groaned, “look, i’m just repaying the favor. not that that’s any of your business. go to sleep, kid.”
hobie threw up his hands, mumbling, “fine, fine. but only because i’m knackered.”
you slipped out the front door, somewhat antsy, not that you would ever admit it. you just got all jittery around miguel for whatever reason. maybe it was because he was attractive, which you had no problem admitting. very attractive.
you remembered the first time meeting him. 
it was a saturday and you were cleaning the kitchen, scrubbing down every surface and wiping every dish clear of stains and clearing out the fridge. you’d only taken your eyes off your daughter for a second before you looked back up and noticed her absence. 
your heart immediately sank with panic. “meadow?” you called out. 
no answer.
you had to have flipped over the entire living room and been on your way to her bedroom before you realized the front door was more than a little cracked just as you passed by the foyer, impenetrable fear spreading through your body like wildfire.
you immediately stepped outside of your house, frantically calling out, “meadow!”
“is this who you’re looking for?”
you spun around eighty degrees, spotting meadow walking through your yard with your neighbor. you sighed out in relief, rushing over to swoop your baby girl in your arms. “sweetheart, i’m so glad you’re okay,” you told her. then, you your tone turned chastising. “don’t you ever leave this house again without me or tt, you hear me?”
meadow looked confused for a split-second, but seeing your brows furrowed with worry and your features tensed with panic, she seemed to have understood that she had messed up somewhere along the line. “‘m sorry, mama.”
you sat her down, noticing the dollar bill in her hand. “now where on earth did you get that?”
“i asked mr. o'hara if i could have a lollipop but he said it’s very bad to take food from strangers, so he gave me a dollar.”
that was when your vision panned to your next-door neighbor, miguel o’hara, who was standing there with a small smile on his face. your eyes were watering and you tried not to let them fall, repeatedly telling him, “thank you.”
miguel shook his head, a palm flat on his hips. “it’s no problem. i just wanted to make sure the little girl got back home safe.”
ever since that moment, you’d been extremely grateful for miguel. to say nothing of the fact that he did a bunch of yard work out of the sheer kindness of his heart. he insisted multiple times that he didn’t need any reward, but you had to argue. there was a chance you might not have ever seen meadow again had he not brought her back to you. if you lost your daughter, you would have nothing left.
so, your idea of compensation happened to be food, which miguel didn’t mind at all. you loved to cook. you used to cook all of the time, every meal from breakfast to dinner.
that was a while ago, though. standing on his front door now with a hot plate in hand, you tried desperately not to go down memory lane. 
not too long after, miguel opened the door and spotted you standing in his doorway. “good evening.”
“good evening, miguel. this is for you,” you said with a polite smile, extending the plate. 
“thank you,” he said graciously, accepting the food with a matching smile. “may i ask what for?”
you didn’t really know the answer yourself. the yard had already been mowed and there didn’t seem to be any other issues that lani couldn’t take care of herself. “just in case you were hungry or something. but if you’re not, you can always save it later.”
“i’m starving,” miguel replied, smiling with his eyes. they were beautiful. much like the rest of him, you might add. his broad shoulders and dark hair and the way his muscles poked out of his t-shirts.
“well, then. that solves that,” you said with a laugh. “have a goodnight, mr. o’hara!”
“you, too!”
miguel watched you back off his doorway, just until he was certain you were safely back in your house. you could feel his eyes on you like a sixth sense, but didn’t dare turn around, shutting your front door behind you.
“you’re seriously telling me you weren’t checking him out?” came hobie’s voice from your couch. 
rather than startle, you took off one of your slippers and said, “you have until the count of five. one, two, three-”
“c’ya,” hobie said, darting down the hall. 
you shook your head and let out a sigh.
EARLIER THAT DAY…
miguel shook his head and heaved a breath. 
peter, who had taken a kind of passion to his job, was none too thrilled by the news. “you let a thief wanted in forty-two counties get away?”
“forty-three,” lyla chirped.
miguel glared, on the verge of letting out an animalistic roar. normally, this would be something miguel yelled at the others about, so it was a very unwelcome change of pace. “we have a back-up plan,” miguel reminded, pinching the bridge of his nose. “i’ve got it under control.”
“you sure that you’ve got it under control?” gwen asked, definitely pushing miguel’s buttons in ways that she shouldn’t have. “and not-”
“stop,” miguel hissed. “everyone go. i need to be alone.”
nobody wanted to contend with that tone, so gwen dragged miles out of the room in case miguel decided to take his anger out on him, with peter quickly following. jessica stayed behind, closing the door behind them, and lyla was, well… a computer.
miguel really did have a plan, because of course he did, he was never without one. in fact, not having a plan to follow made him lose his mind. so it was safe to say it wasn’t the fact that his mission had failed that was making him upset. it was you.
“hey,” jessica said, brushing his shoulder. “what’s on your mind?”
“i’m fine,” miguel said a little more harshly than intended, though it was to be expected with him. 
jessica snickered, putting her hands on her hips. “well, when you say it with that mean ‘ole tone of yours, i know you’re lyin’.”
look at him. a grown man sulking. it was hilarious, not that jessica would say that aloud. right now.
not too many people knew the actual plan. jessica knew. lyla knew, because of course she did, but miguel deliberately told the others that the plan was to catch you because you were a threat to the multiverse. which was the half truth, but the part about you potentially destroying the multiverse was just feeder for the birds. he didn’t want them to ruin things.
in reality, he did intend to catch you, but not because you were going to destroy the multiverse. he wanted you to help them save it. he’d been watching you for a while now, gauging your power. battling you for the first time was merely a test. he could have taken you down in no time if he wanted, left you for the cops to grab, but that would only put a dent in his plans.
miguel had seen what you could do. now, he was ready to bring you in.
TWO WEEKS LATER…
you were running, a bit more comfortably than last time considering this thiefing ordeal didn’t require you to wear painfully long heels and a dress with a huge slit down the front. just your typical mask. you burst out of the door that led to the rooftop, heaving, given that you’d just ran up what felt like fifty flights of stairs.
you were just about to shapeshift into your signature jet-black raven until you felt something stick at your feet and realized you couldn’t move. glancing down, you saw red webs, and threw your head back with a groan. not good for takeoff, you thought, in spite of the fact that you absolutely could not get caught. maybe you could still fly, but if the webs got stuck to your feathers, it was game over.
spider-man emerged from the shadows of night, moonlight glimmering on his suit. “going somewhere?”
“well, not anymore, looks like,” you grumbled, irritated. 
little did the police know, you had already dropped off the stolen item. so you would still get your next paycheck. though the expenses for having to get you out of jail could’ve potentially taken a toll on it, depending on how benevolent your boss was feeling.
spider-man chuckled, approaching you. “what did you steal this time? an emerald? a ruby?”
“wouldn’t you like to know?” you hissed.
“you got me there,” replied spider-man, although there was a kind of arrogance in his tone that really pissed you off. “i’m not letting you get away this time.”
you cackled, almost like a witch. “you can deter me, spider-man, all you want,” you told him, trying to break out of the webs, but to no avail. “but i’m unstoppable.”
spider-man took one look at you, struggling to free yourself from your restraints, and cackled. “here. let me help.”
you sucked in a breath when his talons started to protrude from the tips of his fingers, but they were gone after the mere three seconds it took for him to slash the thread of string to bits. you stepped back an inch, as if you were testing your freedom. then, you threw him a baffled look behind your mask. there was no reason why the same man trying to catch you just set you free. unless it was a trap.
now was your moment. you could have shapeshifted and been on your merry way, but something told you to stay put. just for now, as if you were going to miss something. 
“i think she went up here, boss!”
hearing those voices, your first instinct was to take flight, but spider-man had different plans and you quietly gasped when he shoved you behind a wall, placing a sheathed hand over your mouth. it was the only part of your mask that wasn’t covered. breathing issues.
there were footsteps. you glanced at spider-man, who was looking at you. the two of you said nothing, but there had to have been a billion thoughts warring through your mind and they each blurred into each other. 
“don’t move a muscle,” spider-man growled, stepping from behind the wall and approaching the police. for whatever reason, you listened, despite the fact that you should have fled while you still had the opportunity. some nerve this guy had telling you what to do.
spider-man donned his friendliest tone, greeting, “everything alright, sheriff?”
“we got a tip that a woman ran this way,” the sheriff said, glancing around the rooftop. now would probably be a great time to shapeshift into a chameleon. or literally any small critter.
“i didn’t see a woman. i can assure you it’s just me up here,” spider-man said, scratching his head. “but i can help you find her.”
the sheriff seemed to mull it over, from the brief pause you noticed him take, but ultimately responded, “no, no, that’s okay. you do enough around here, spider-man. we’ve got this one.”
“alright. you have a good night, sheriff.”
your eyes flickered, hearing the footsteps of the sheriff and his team fade. did spider-man just protect you - again?
“why did you do that?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at him from behind your mask. you didn’t like this guy, if it wasn’t obvious enough. you felt like he was trying to get you off guard, and that made you dig in your heels even more.
“because if anyone’s gonna turn you in, it’ll be me,” spider-man said in a low tone, cornering you against the wall and trapping you in front of his chest. “i want to take you down all by myself.”
you snickered. that had to have been the most amusing thing you’d heard all day. you placed your hands on his shoulders, purring, “really now? you think you can take me down?”
“i know i can,” he told you, his words whispering to you with the rustling of the wind. “and i will.”
“hm,” was all you said, bringing one of your hands down his chest. he sounded so certain. 
spider-man cocked his head. you couldn’t see, obviously, but there was a little grin dancing on his lips. “do you touch every guy like this or am i special?”
“i loved a man once,” you told him. not that it was any of his business. you cloaked the wistfulness in your voice with sultriness. “didn’t end too well for either of us.”
spider-man paused, like he was surprised by the sudden confession, but wasted no time to recover. “is that why you’re here?”
you chewed your lip. he was right on the money. “i’m here because i choose to be.”
“but if you had the chance to be something else, something… better,” spider-man started, tracing your lip with his concealed thumb. “you would take it, right?”
of course, you would. those kind of opportunities just weren’t something everybody was fortunate enough to have. you had it all and then you lost it in the blink of an eye, watching it all crumble before your feet. if you were being honest, you were cheating death.
“i guess we’ll never know,” was all you said before breaking out of his arms and jumping off of the building. 
spider-man watched you, but he knew you would be alright even before he saw the raven come up and disappear into brooklyn’s dark evening sky and he couldn’t tell you apart from a star.
THE FOLLOWING DAY…
with your line of work, you had quite a few days off. but that was because you didn’t have a fixed schedule, which was a blessing and a curse wrapped into one. when your boss called, you answered. even if it meant having to haul ass out of bed at four in the morning.
today was one of those days off. you insisted lani didn’t need to do anything, sending her money to make sure she was set since she was basically your daughter’s full-time babysitter. you made meadow breakfast, dropped her off at school, and went back home. 
thinking about meadow and if she was safe always made you nervous. since you could afford it these days, you enrolled her in a private school. it didn’t hurt, even if she hates the uniform at first. you just wanted to decrease the chances of something bad happening to her.
miguel was on his front porch when you pulled into the driveway, your houses not significantly far from each other. every now and then, you let your eyes wander, and then you let your mind wonder why a man as fine as himself lived all alone.
“hey,” miguel said, waving you over. “you’re home early.”
“so are you,” you replied, shocked that he was home. this was a man that worked a typical nine-to-five, so he should have been gone longer than you, technically speaking. though he did tend to disappear often. “i admit i was a little curious when i saw your car still parked when i went to drop meadow off.”
“off day,” was all miguel said, flashing you a full set of teeth. jesus fucking christ, this man had a mesmerizing smile. “what are your plans for today, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“oh, you know. just catching up on sleep and throwing something on the stove,” you told him offhandedly. like any other working individual on their day off, you just wanted to rest. “there’s nothing like a nap on a full stomach. what about you?”
miguel rubbed his nape. “well, i was going to do some extra paperwork and some work around the house, but your plan sounds better than mine.”
you chortled, because you couldn’t even politely disagree. “in that case, you can always come over, if you’d like. no one’s home but me and i don’t bite.”
though you didn’t realize until it was too late, miguel had gotten very close to you. you could feel his warmth on your skin, although your bodies didn’t touch. his arm was just shy of yours. “no, no. i couldn’t,” he said. 
you waved him off. “of course, you could. you’re not a parasite, miguel. we both give to each other.”
“are you sure it’s okay?”
“positive. we’re both grown adults. you don’t need anyone’s permission but mine to come over to my house, you know,” you joked.
miguel visibly mulled it over, his brows furrowed in deep thought, almost as though he thought you were going to eat him or something. but then he bobbed his head and said, “sounds like a good time.”
you broke into a smile that you hadn’t made in years, leading miguel to your house. ironically, it was the first time he had been inside. you hadn’t had any indoor issues that you or lani couldn’t take care of on your own so far, which meant he stuck to yardwork. foolishly, you were a little nervous.
“tidy,” miguel remarked while he followed you to your kitchen. you didn’t see the way he smiled at the tiny pairs of shoes on the rack in the foyer. he noticed that there were a lot of pictures of meadow hanging around, ranging from when she was a mere infant until now.
“very. thank god for lani. i used to think i was a good, but that woman is a different breed of clean,” you said after washing your hands, grabbing a bunch of ingredients from your cabinets and refrigerator. 
miguel observed from behind your island, leaning up against it. “you two seem very close.”
“i trust her with my life. and my daughter’s life. she’s like a sister to me,” you told him, smiling. for a split-second, miguel swore he saw something wistful. “she almost was.”
“almost?”
“almost,” you whispered, plopping a bag of peppers onto the counter. 
miguel didn’t press. if you wanted to talk about it, you would. the two of you weren’t exactly close, no matter how blurry the lines between just friends and neighbors had gotten over the years.
reading the room, miguel expertly shifted the subject, “what are you making?”
the stars were back in your eyes as you gushed, “it’s a family recipe. my mother used to make it all the time. i feel bad now for complaining about how much she did when i was a kid. it’s mouthwatering perfection.” you deliberately left out the part that you felt bad because you would never get the chance to eat her food again.
“i hear you,” miguel replied, watching you cut the peppers. he didn’t like how sharp the knife was. “let me help.”
you brushed him off. “it’s fine. sit down.”
“i wasn’t asking,” miguel said sternly, his feet already moving. 
you blinked. “oh. okay.”
miguel maneuvered around the island, grabbing your waist while he walked past you, which admittedly made butterflies flutter in your gut. you chided them, begging them to keep the excitement to a minimum, but it was no use when you saw miguel had rolled up his sleeves and taken the knife out of your hands.
you pretended to look at the vegetables, though it couldn’t have been more obvious that you were watching his bare, exposed forearms and the taut muscles tense with his every movement. then, reminding yourself that there were other things you could have been doing, you tried to concentrate on the meat.
absentmindedly working, your thoughts were still on his arms, though for more chaste reasons. there were some lingering scratches on his skin, like he’d gotten into a fight or two. you wondered if he was taking care of himself. 
something particularly paralyzing hit you when you realized that that was all you could do - wonder. you didn’t really know miguel, nor did he know you, and you had long convinced yourself that it was better that way. you kept your family a distance from others until they bared their souls to you.
miguel was different. there was an air of familiarity to his presence. like he had half a soul that was completed by yours.
after forty minutes of what felt like reckless conversation featuring the two of you cooking instead of the other way around, lunch was ready and it was noon. you offered miguel wine and chattered over a meal and through your wine drunk haze. 
good thing he only lived next door.
“you know, you cook the best food i’ve ever tasted,” miguel told you, not a single sign of insincerity on his face. 
you perked up, glancing at him from across the dining table. what a kind gentleman he had been, refusing to let you set the table. or carry the dishes over. “really?”
“i wouldn’t say it if i didn’t mean it,” he said. “such great flavor.”
“thanks,” you chirped, breaking into a broadening grin. “i’ve been hoping to pass it down to meadow so that the legacy doesn’t die. she loves watching me cook. her grandmother would be proud.”
miguel cocked a brow. “no other family?”
you shook your head, fidgeting with the near-empty wine glass now that you’d finished your meals. “nope. my mother was single, my father is god knows where, so it was just me and her for the longest. and you know how i said lani was almost my sister?”
“mm-hm,” miguel hummed, brows furrowed as a sign he was listening deeply. 
you sucked in a breath. you had never admitted this to anyone before. “she was my fiancé’s sister. he, uh, yeah. work incident. six years ago.”
miguel’s features softened, the ache on your face conspicuous. hurt recognized hurt. he grabbed your hand from underneath the table, gave it a gentle squeeze, and said, “i’m sorry that happened.” 
“me, too,” you mumbled.
you deliberately left out the part that you were involved in that incident. it was a dinner at alchemax with the man you were about to start a family with and his boss, who had sent the rest of the company home. you wished you would have seen it coming, wished you would have known your drinks were spiked before your almost husband sipped from that glass.
the dosage had killed him, but mutated your dna. you should have died. it was a miracle your unborn baby at the time survived. instead, you turned into a shape-shifting entity, a mere test subject.
though there weren’t any signs, you were always wary, wondering if meadow had been affected by the dosage, but the doctors declared her very healthy at birth and during checkups.
“i lost my family, too,” miguel confessed, much to your and his mutual surprise. “i wasn’t always a lonely old man. i had a wife and a daughter.”
that piqued your interest. “have you looked again?”
“have you?”
that was fair. “no,” you said. not particularly, came a voice in your head, but you didn’t let it speak. “mainly because i have a daughter. i’m careful who i bring into her life. and with work, i don’t have the time to do background checks on who i date.”
“you’re a good mother,” miguel said after a moment or two. “meadow is lucky to have you.”
you smiled gently. “i like to think so.”
minutes of conversation turned into hours with miguel, but you didn’t forgo your plans of napping. almost the second you put on the movie, both of you were fast asleep, your head on his shoulder. 
when you woke up again, your head had fallen to his chest and his arm was tightly secured around your waist like a seatbelt. it wasn’t time to pick up meadow, you had set a time just in case you got a little too distracted, but you noticed a text from lani insisting that she would drop your daughter off since she was in the area of her school and wanted you to rest.
for a little while, you let yourself wallow in the feeling of miguel’s warmth and the sound of his soft snores. it wasn’t very often that you actually let yourself enjoy things.
you were too paranoid. too vigilant. it was nice to put your guard down for a second.
the doorbell rang after a while and you felt miguel’s arm flex protectively around you. he was awake.
“it’s lani. she dropped off meadow,” you whispered, feeling his protective grip slacken. your heart fluttered at how instinctively cautious he was over you.
standing to your feet, you opened the door and greeted your daughter. you made small talk with lani at the door before she said she had places to be and drove off. 
“hi, mr. o’hara,” greeted meadow when she entered the living room, plopping on the couch to watch cartoons. 
“hey, cheeto,” miguel greeted gruffly, sitting up. “you don’t have any homework to do?”
“nope,” meadow said, popping the p. “we don’t have homework on friday’s.”
“oh, silly me,” miguel said, making you poorly stifle a laugh.
meadow giggled, too. 
miguel cocked his head at you, standing beside him, leaning against the arm of the chair. “who are you laughing at?”
you raised your arms defensively. “nothing.”
“i said,” miguel started, donning a playfully monster-like tone, probably for meadow’s amusement. you gasped when he switched your positions, though he was rather gentle when he pushed you into the couch. “who are you laughing at?”
when his fingers started to dance over your skin, you couldn’t even get the words out, convulsing in a fit of giggles as he tickled you and pressed you for answers. you squirmed and writhed, laughing uncontrollably.
“meadow,” you called out for help, but she simply covered her ears and kept her eyes glued to the television screen for all the times you tickled her. but you saw her lips twitch into a mischievous grin.
there was almost tears in your ears at this point. miguel’s fingers were merciless, almost killing you with how much they made you laugh. 
“oh my god, miguel, quit it…,” you chanted, your cheeks hurting. 
“what’s the magic word?”
“stop.”
“wrong answer.”
“please,” you blurted, a line of tears rolling down your face as you writhed beneath him. “please!”
miguel let up, at last pulling back from your frame as your chest heaved and you tried to catch your breath. meadow lifted up her hand and high-fived miguel, both of them looking like nothing but trouble.
miguel plopped back on the couch, asking, “are you okay?”
“i almost pee’d myself,” you admitted through ragged breaths. 
both miguel and meadow laughed. 
once you could breathe again, you called meadow into the kitchen for an after school snack since she insisted that she wasn’t very hungry. “mom,” she called out, standing beside you. “a boy told me he liked me at school today.”
any other parent would have had a heart attack, but you knew your daughter well enough, and asked expectantly, “and what did you say?”
“that he’s icky,” she told you with a straight face. 
you snickered in amusement. “atta girl.”
“do you like mr. o’hara?”
now that almost gave you a heart attack, but you feigned some kind of semblance of calm, asking, “what makes you think that?”
“it just looks like it,” meadow chirped, but she was quick to get distracted by the snacks in the pantry and asked for a blueberry muffin.
but that was the million dollar question. did you like miguel o’hara?
THE NEXT DAY IN DOWNTOWN BROOKLYN…
“it’s about time you got here,” was the first thing hobie said when you arrived at the warehouse.
the abandoned warehouse was rusty and run-down, and it wasn’t too much of a leap to make that it hadn’t been used in years. you swore you saw a critter scurry away upon your entrance.
“hello to you too, hobie,” you greeted levelly. “cutting to the chase, where’s michael fontana? you didn’t leave a live body alone, did you?”
hobie scoffed, “ay, do i look like an amateur to you? follow my lead.”
you followed hobie through the warehouse littered with clutter, boxes cast aside that were presumably filled with old junk and spiders. the job was supposed to easy. tie the guy up, press him for answers, and relay the information. it could have been a one-person job, but your boss preferred having multiple witnesses.
hobie’s fingers curled around a doorknob, turning it and pushing the door open. but the room was void of life. your brows furrowed, glancing up at hobie, uttering, “there’s nobody here…”
you screamed when you felt somebody grab you from behind, assuming it was an escaped michael fontana. this is why you don’t hire nineteen-year-olds, you thought grumpily to yourself.
struggling in his arms, you shouted to your partner, “hobie, the gun!”
hobie didn’t move a muscle, much to your shock, shooting you an apologetic wince. “sorry, mate. it’s nothing personal. i actually like you,” he said. “but boss’ order.”
you glanced back, the sting of brutal betrayal settling in with the mind-numbing realization that the person grabbing you wasn’t michael fontana.
before you could shapeshift, you felt a needle poke your arm and hissed, just a grand total of seconds before your body went slack and the world around you vanished.
when you regained consciousness, the first thing you noticed was how bright it was in whatever room you were in, sunlight filtering through the blinds. the second thing you noticed was that your hands were cuffed behind the back of whatever chair you were now sitting in, followed by the pain flaring through your right arm. 
glancing around, you opened your winced eyes. an interrogation room with an outdoor window. that was a first.
“she’s awake!” you heard someone calling out, craning your head to spot two teenagers. if you had to guess, they didn’t look over seventeen. the boy waved, but the girl tugged his hand back down.
they must have heard someone coming, but they moved out of the way, letting them cross the threshold between their room and yours, the door already open. like they knew for certain that there was no way you could escape.
spider-man came to sit in front of you, across from you. your last memory was of him standing behind you. you narrowed your eyes, sneering, “you.”
you didn’t wonder how he knew who you are, remembering hobie had betrayed you. he must have been ratting you out for the longest. marsai had been looking into how spider-man seemingly always knew when and where you’d strike, but found nothing. you guessed you had your answer.
“not me,” spider-man said, deactivating his mask. “me.”
shock paralyzed you, not that you could move very much in the first place. this had to be some kind of dream. or, better yet, a nightmare. “miguel?” you gasped.
it all made sense now. the disappearances at random hours of the day and ungodly hours of the night. the scratches and bruises you sometimes noticed on his skin, and lord knows you hadn’t even seen half of them. it was because he was out fighting evil, out fighting you. 
“i’m not your enemy,” miguel said, his voice stern like it had been in your kitchen.
“yes, because only my ally would set me up, drug me, and cuff me to a chair,” you droned, voice dripping with sarcasm.
you shifted as much as you could,  uncomfortable at the thought of being drugged. the last time it happened, you lost a fiancé, the future you always wanted, and - on the brink of death - turned into a shape-shifting creature. you were also a little hurt, not that you would show it on the surface. you’d trusted miguel, even liked him, much to your daughter’s suspicion.
wondering how long he knew was even more maddening. this man was posing as your kind next-door neighbor all the while knowing where you were and what you did when you left your home everyday. and all of it was for what - to capture you and cage you like an animal?
miguel lolled his neck. you could see the exhaustion in his eyes, weighing him down. “it was for your own good. you would have tried to shapeshift and get away from me, no?”
you chewed your lip, saying nothing. you didn’t want to admit that he was right. much to miguel’s amusement. 
“about that,” came one of the two teenagers, the boy, you noticed. “we really wanted to ask you about being a shapeshifter. i mean, that’s so cool. i’ve never met a shapeshifter before.”
“most people haven’t, kid,” you said stiffly. “who are you two?”
“i’m miles morales,” the boy introduced himself, stretching out his hand for you to shake. 
wiggling your fingers behind your back, you droned, “my hands are kinda tied here, kid. literally.”
miles made a face, immediately rushing to uncuff you after miguel unceremoniously tossed him the key. 
“i’m gwen stacy,” the girl said as your cuffs slackened and your hands were freed. “can you please tell us what it’s like to be a shapeshifter?”
“no, no, and no,” miguel said for you, clearly against the idea for whatever reason. 
“but why?” gwen pressed. then, an idea hit her and she looked to you, continuing, “miguel didn’t mean any harm. he has a good reason for doing all of this.”
“i’d sure like to hear it,” you mumbled under your breath.
“miguel hasn’t really told us, either,” miles added. “i mean, i thought-”
gwen covered miles’ mouth before he could say anything that would undo and hender their progress and convincing either you or miguel. 
from the looks if it, though, miguel was unimpressed to begin with, a blank look on his face. “whatever you’re trying to do, gwen, it’s not working.”
“it’s her choice,” gwen reminded, returning her attention to you and clasping her hands together against her chest. “please, please, please? we won’t bother you ever again.”
you glanced at miguel, who was glancing at you, both of you trying to read each other. there seemed to be a telepathic communication going on between you both before miguel visibly relented and you said, “alright, fine. go ahead. shoot.”
“can you shapeshift into anything?”
“animals and other humans, but not objects. and only living things that i’ve stored dna from.”
“do your senses get enhanced, like superhuman?”
“my senses depend on whatever - or whoever - i’m inhabiting,” you explained. “like, if i were to shapeshift into a bat, my hearing would be keener. but when it comes to humans, i only don their appearance.”
“do you have weaknesses?”
“next question,” you mumbled. of course, you did. your abilities were impaired when you were sick or injured, and downright disarmed it you consumed or came into close contact with something that you were allergic to. it was your kryptonite, not that anyone needed to know that.
“how long can you stay in shapeshifting form?”
“depends on my health.”
“alright, that’s enough,” miguel said. “both of you. out.”
strangely enough, miles and gwen didn’t argue, seemingly content with your answers. they bid you goodbye and left the room chattering amongst themselves.
you cocked your head, meeting miguel’s stare. “well, cap, what’s your motive?”
miguel got comfortable in his chair, like he was about to give you a monologue. “you’ve been on our radar since you mutated. i was going to just lock you up and throw you with the others at first, since i assumed you were hurting innocent people.”
“you think daddy’s boy and his family are innocent?” you asked with a hint of amusement. 
“rodney malone-fisk?” 
you groaned at that name. “you call him rodney. i call him a spoiled brat.”
“i know what his family did to you. what they took from you,” miguel started, making all the blood drain from your face. “your fiancé didn’t just die in a work incident. he was killed as a lab rat. fisk was trying to test out a mix that would grant him dimension-traveling abilities but it ended up being a shape-shifting solution instead. you were supposed to die, too, but the dosages weren’t measured properly.”
you said nothing. there was nothing that you could say. just thinking about it made tears sting your eyes.
miguel grabbed your hand over the table, squeezed it like he had the other day. there was tenderness he had for you that he hadn’t felt in a long time. you understood him. “you know why i asked if you had the chance to be something better, would you take it? because i know that you’re more than this. you’re not a bad person. you just do bad things to survive.”
“i can’t,” you whispered, swatting his hand away. “everything i touch, i destroy.”
that miguel understood on levels he didn’t want to nor care to admit.
you fought the tears with all your might. after your fiancé died, you lost everything you had. except for your family. you had meadow and lani and built a safe haven for them from the ground up, swearing to protect them with your whole heart.
“i want to give you that chance,” miguel said stoically. “on a silver platter. i want you to join us.”
your eyes flickered. “join you? to do what?”
“you obviously have useful skill that could be put to better use. but kingpin and his son are going to destroy your universe as you know it if nobody stops him. and if anyone deserves to take him down, it’s you.”
that got your attention. kingpin wanted to destroy the universe? your fiancé always talked about his boss wanting to cross different dimensions, but you never thought it was humanly possible.
though considering you could shapeshift, you figured anything was possible nowadays. but your major concern was your daughter, your eyes widening with the realization that you should have been with her already. you could feel a tingle, sensing that something just wasn’t right. 
you didn’t say a word as you immediately hopped to your feet and ran out of the door, miguel immediately giving chase, but you ultimately disappeared into a crowd of spider-people and although it couldn’t have been too hard to differentiate you from them, you were already on the loose.
running as fast as you could, you didn’t stop, although you didn’t really know where you were going and with all the many spider-people roaming around that resembled each other, it felt as though you were running in circles.
then, you came face-to-face with hobie, and scowled.
“move,” you hissed. 
hobie called out your name. “ay, mate, no hard feelings.”
“all the feelings i have for you right now are hard,” you snarled, pushing past him. you would be affording miguel the same amount of animosity when you were certain your daughter was safely in your arms. right now, he was in your way, and anyone stopping you from being with your kid was going to be met with a snappy attitude.
“wait,” hobie called out behind you. 
you turning around, pointing an accusing finger towards him, and snapped, “i was supposed to be back with my child by now and because of you i’m not. so unless you’re going to help me get to her, i suggest you move out of my way.”
“that guy sucks anyway,” hobie said, not having to even think about which option he preferred. “follow me.”
you hesitated, because he was the whole reason that you were even here, but eventually followed him down the hallway, careful to move quiet and stealthily. you were also wary that it could be trap, but truth be told, you had no other way out.
though you probably should have questioned how or why it was so many of them, that was the last thing on your mind. lani was probably worried sick about you. you didn’t have a clue what time it was, but it didn’t take a genius to know that hours had passed, and you said you would be home way before now. 
the hall broadened towards its end where you saw a gathering of spider-people, all looking like they were scouting somebody out. “blast, he’s got them looking for you,” hobie grumbled under his breath. he walked you back around a corner and handed you something around his wrist. “here, take this.”
“what the hell is that?”
“it’s a wristband. it’ll open a portal to your universe. but you’ve gotta go now,” hobie explained, tapping some kind of button. 
you were more than a little surprised when an orange warp portal opened.
“go,” hobie said, glancing around for anybody. “i’ve got your six.”
hearing footsteps approaching, you neared the portal and almost entered, but there was a gnawing question that you couldn’t ignore. you whipped around, asking, “where do your loyalties lie?”
“in myself,” hobie answered without a second of hesitation. “and in the people that mean the most to me.”
you scoffed. “what happened to boss’ order?”
“i’m my own boss. that was in your best interest,” hobie replied, leaning against the wall. “c’mon. get outta here.”
turning around, you sucked in a breath, and walked through that portal. 
BACK IN BROOKLYN…
you returned right back at your house, just near the road. glancing around, nothing looked too out of the ordinary. lani’s car was parked in the driveway, meaning she had to have been there. didn’t she?
running to your house with all of your speed, you prepared to search yourself for your keys, only for your heart to drop when you realized that the door was already wide open.
heart racing, you burst through the foyer, and the first thing you saw when you entered your living room was lani sprawled out on the floor, a puddle of blood beneath her. 
“lani,” you gasped out, crouching down beside her. 
lani’s eyes were fluttering, a tremble in her weak voice as she whispered, “i tried to stop them.”
“stop who?” you asked, trying to stop the blood flow. she had been shot, lying here for only god knew how long. you threw off your jacket and pressed it to her gut, apologizing when she winced out in pain. 
“kingpin’s men,” she croaked. “they took meadow. they want you.”
you gritted your teeth, bristling with anger. hadn’t that man taken enough from you? you let him get away with killing your fiancé, but your daughter was crossing the line and you’d show him the mistake he’d made. even if it cost you everything. “where?” you asked. 
lani lifted up her arm, and that was when you noticed that it was also coated in blood, but there were symbols carved into her skin. 
it was the symbol of an abandoned alchemax building.
“go,” lani said, tensing as though it took all of her strength to say that one syllable. your fingers were clenched into fists. you would kill everyone involved with your bare hands if you had to. 
“no,” you balked, shaking your head. “i can’t leave you like this.”
lani grabbed your hand, lacing her fingers through yours. “your daughter is more important.”
thinking about what they could have been doing to meadow right now made you shudder with a fear you had never felt before. 
“i’ll take her to a hospital,” came a voice from behind you. you turned immediately, recognizing it. there stood miguel, still clad in his spider-man suit. “go save your daughter. i’ve already sent the team.”
you stood, coming face-to-face with miguel, and hissed, “if anything happens to her…”
“i know,” miguel said, as if he understood you wholeheartedly. “go.”
miguel scooped lani up into his arms, and it hurt you when she hissed in pain. you turned to her. “i’ll come back for you.”
lani smiled weakly. “i know you will.”
and with that, you were out the door, shapeshifting into your signature raven and flying across town.
the abandoned alchemax wasn’t exactly old. it was the building where your fiancé was killed and they covered up the incident as the result of faulty equipment, which ultimately led them to build an entirely new facility. you landed on top of the building that somehow hadn’t been demolished yet, transforming back into yourself when your feet were against the ground.
there wasn’t really an entrance all the way up here. the rooftop door was blocked and bolted as preventative measures. guess i’ve got to make my own door, you told yourself, undeterred.
spotting a stray piece of metal debris, you wielded the pipe in your hands. there was always the option of the lower-level entrances, if you wanted to get caught immediately. kingpin’s men were probably staking the place out, waiting to ambush.
you stepped back, holding the pipe, and charged towards the door as you shattered the window open, glass shards flying everywhere. cautiously stepping over the glass, you fitted your way through the gap you’d created, craning your head downwards until your feet plopped against the floor.
you were in. 
there were two halls on either side of you and though you didn’t really know which one went where, you followed your gut and took the path to your right.
the whole place was eerily dark and empty. duh, it’s abandoned, you cogitated. not that it made things any better. all you could hear was yourself, your own feet against the cold floor, though it would be naive to believe you were truly alone.
someone was here. kingpin’s men were everywhere but nowhere at the same time, waiting for you to make yourself known. and miguel had told you that he sent the team that should have been here by now, making you wonder how they got in and if they’d been detected.
you couldn’t explain it, but it felt like you were being watched, like there was somebody on your heels ready to strike you in your back when you least expected it. though to be honest, you always felt that way. always alert. never safe.
what you would give to live in peace again, to rest your heart and mind even for just a second. but you couldn’t afford not to be careful, not when you had a daughter to live for.
walking by a door, you cried out in shock when somebody grabbed your arm in pulling you inside, instinctively shapeshifting into a venomous creature, but withdrawing when you saw that it was only hobie and his friends.
“i almost killed you,” you hissed to him after donning your normal appearance again.
hobie threw his hands off, feigning innocence. 
there were two people you didn’t recognize tagging along with them. gwen shut the door, while a lady approached you, introducing, “i’m jessica. i work with miguel. and listen, we really need your help.”
your brows furrowed. “what’s going on?”
“kingpin’s making this weird space-traveling machine that’s really a doom machine because he’s gonna kill everyone,” some kid rambled. “oh, i’m pavitr.”
miles looked surprised, like nobody told him what was going on, and asked, “you got evil kingpin in your universe, too?”
“unfortunately,” you mumbled. 
“he’s out of control. he doesn’t know what he’s doing,” gwen told you frantically. “we’re making a device that will deactivate the accelerator but it’s taking some time.”
“so what?” you asked, trying to get to the point. “you want me to stall him?”
“he’s got cheeto,” hobie reminded. “there ain’t no telling what he’ll do to her if somebody doesn’t stop him.”
you gritted your teeth, filled with unadulterated rage. god, you felt murderous. you tried to speak levelly, “so, what’s the plan?”
“we split up into pairs,” jessica said. “we find where he has the accelerator. that’s where he’s keeping your daughter.”
hobie declared, “i dibs miles.”
miles didn’t protest. jessica insisted it was best if the younger ones were supervised, so she volunteered to take pavitr and the device that they were cooking. which left you with gwen. “guess it’s just you and me, kid,” you said, stepping out of the room.
“i think it’s really cool that you can shapeshift,” gwen told you while you stealthily crept down a hall with her. “i mean, it sucks how it happened to you, but…”
“shh,” you whispered, tugging her behind a wall. she seemed surprised, but then she heard the footsteps, too.
someone was coming.
“i’m gonna do something really weird,” you told her lowly. “and i need you to play along.”
“what are you…”
you shapeshifted into kingpin. 
“oh my god. that is really weird,” gwen mumbled. 
you grabbed her arm none too gently, reminding her to play along, and approached the man that was working for kingpin. “found this one lurking around.”
“i knew i heard something from over here,” the guy said, shooting gwen a scowl. “you want me to take her off your hands, boss?”
“take her to the accelerator. now,” you ordered, handing gwen over, who was doing a good job at looking dejected. “i’ll follow behind.”
the man didn’t hesitate to follow orders, leading you to the room where the accelerator was. that was far too easy. 
it was a lot of walking. apparently the accelerator was at the very bottom of the building, beneath the first floor, heavily guarded by kingpin’s men. it was a good thing you were wearing something even better than a hyper realistic costume.
the room was white and starkly bright compared to every other inch of the place, though all of that could be chalked up to the fact that it was the only room in the whole building currently using energy. and lots of it, too.
when you finally saw your daughter sitting in a small cage above the accelerator, between bars like an animal, you almost killed everyone in the room. instead, you kept your cool, ordering the dude to unhand gwen.
“anything else, boss?”
just as you opened your mouth to speak, the unimaginable happened. the door swung open, revealing the real kingpin, who seemed more than baffled when he saw you standing there. until it hit him that he knew of a shapeshifter. 
“you fool,” kingpin bellowed, glaring at the man. “that’s her!”
“fuck,” you swore under your breath. 
the man turned to you, watching you visibly break into a sweat, and called out, “hey, you’re not my boss!”
that cry got the attention of everyone in the room, all of kingpin’s very armed men. you gave gwen a look and shouted, “now!”
gwen started to shoot webs, restraining men that turned to put their weapons on you, and you shapeshifted into a wolf, attacking the man that had been under the impression that you were his boss until he was nothing but a bloody course. 
and the cycle repeated. kingpin ordered more of his men to move in and attack you, keeping his distance seeing as you were currently in a form of a wolf that could bite his head off if she so pleased. some of his men took him somewhere else in the room, away from you, and crowded him defensively. 
all the while, your five-year-old daughter was watching. she was almost six, and she was brilliant, and she was watching you attack with something that surprisingly wasn’t fear. almost like she thought she was watching a movie of some sorts, anticipating the next scene.
you were trying to get to her, but kingpin had made it so that if you really wanted to, you would have to get through him first.
blood quickly started to pool around and it wasn’t yours. there were bodies everywhere, dropping like flies. though you desperately wanted to cover your daughter’s eyes and spare her from the horror of seeing multiple people die at your hands in real time, you were in too deep of a rage to stop and nothing would keep you from fighting.
then, it happened. you didn’t move quick enough. the bullet tore right through you, making you howl out, and you glitched back into your true form. the wound was there, blood dripping around your calf.
gwen gasped, coming to your side, but she was caught and forcibly restrained. 
“mom!” meadow cried out, gripping the metal cage bars. 
kingpin cackled in amusement. “bravo, bravo. you know, i really do have to applaud the show you put on right there. this could have been painless if you would have just complied.”
“let my daughter go,” you snarled with vitriol. 
“i will,” kingpin said, like she was the most insignificant part of this little scheme of his. “after you give me what i want.
“what don’t you understand? i don’t have anything,” you shouted, fingers reaching to your wound and becoming stained in your own blood. “you took everything from me!”
“the code, woman. what’s the code?” kingpin hissed. “your fiancé was working on it. he cracked it. the code to the accelerator.”
for a second, you genuinely had no idea what he was talking about, until it hit you. your fiancé talked at length about a device at work that he’d been programming under his boss’ order, but he wanted to sabotage it. he said that it was unsafe. that kingpin didn’t realize the mistake he was making. it was an underdeveloped device that could destroy the whole planet.
you quickly realized he’d been talking about the accelerator. he’d worked many long days and nights on it and still thought that it wasn’t ready for use. that was what kingpin had been developing for all these years, completing your fiancé’s unfinished business.
“damn that code,” you snapped irritably.
kingpin was furious, and started to ramble, “your fiancé died at his own hand. he signed a contract. it isn��t my fault that the mix killed him, but if you don’t telling me everything i need to know about this damn machine, i’ll kill you and i’ll kill-”
“boss,” interjected one of kingpin’s men. 
“don’t you hear me speaking?” roared kingpin. 
“but boss, the baby,” the man started. “she’s gone.”
kingpin’s eyes flitted up to the cage, immediately noticing the absence of your five-year-old daughter. “what? how did she escape? what did you do?”
“i didn’t do anything, boss, i swear! i…”
the man’s words interrupted by a blood-curdling cry as a small but ferocious animal attacked him to the ground.
it was a baby wolf. and more importantly, it was your baby.
“capture that thing!” roared kingpin. 
not on your watch. you mustered the strength to rise to your feet, snatching a gun out of the man closest to you and briefly knocking him out with it just before doing a complete three-sixty and shooting in every direction.
all the while, meadow was agile and too quick on her feet, and it didn’t hurt that she was super tiny. you jogged over to gwen, wincing as you limped over, dropping to the ground to avoid facing the barrels of guns and shooting at the men that were restraining her.
gwen wiggled her arm, probably sore from how tightly they were holding her. “thanks.”
“thank me later,” you said, panting for breath.
“wait!” gwen called out behind you. “you’re hurt. can you still shift?”
you exhaled a sigh. “remember when you asked me about my weaknesses?”
“oh.”
“yeah.”
when you turned around, you saw meadow still kicking ass. just a second later, one of kingpin’s men grabbed her and your maternal instincts immediately kicked in, ignoring all of your pain and suffering to parade over there and take action.
it was like you blacked out. you didn’t even know what happened. one second, you were marching over there, and the next, meadow was safely in your arms and the guy that had dared to lay his bare hands on her was floored with more than a couple of broken bones and was certainly no longer breathing.
“are you okay?” you asked, cradling her to your bosom. 
meadow nodded, nestling closer to you. you were almost elated to tears, unable to describe the relief you felt knowing that she was okay. though it was a shock, you were pleasantly surprised that she had inherited your ability. 
worried, but pleasantly surprised.
“do i need to make any other examples of what happens when you come between a mother and her child?” you shouted out, watching a couple of men cower.
in the next second, there was another shattering noise, like the one when you broke into the building through the window. and then you quickly realized that it was a window being smashed into, fractured glass pelting everywhere.
there was a blur of blue and red, but you still recognized it, especially when the intruder’s feet skidded across multiple faces, successfully knocking them out, until he dropped his red string and came to a land before you.
“miguel,” you gasped, more than a little surprised.
“lani is fine. they said she’ll make it,” he said, knowing that you would ask. that was what was most important to you right now. “i didn’t leave her alone. her mother came.”
you nodded, content with that. you weren’t on speaking terms with lani’s mother - she’d never liked you - but you knew she cared for her children deeply and that was all that mattered in that moment.
“oh, how sweet. a reunion,” kingpin barked sarcastically, looking at you both with pure hatred.
miguel’s jaw clenched noticing your injured form, and he immediately caged you and your daughter behind him, bellowing back, “we can either make this really easy or really hard.”
kingpin cackled. “hilarious! i was thinking the same thing.”
miguel growled, reaching for the person nearest to him, and you covered meadow’s eyes when he went to rip them to literal shreds. she had shapeshifted back to normal now, still as tiny as ever, though.
dropping the guy’s remains, miguel glanced around, red eyes making contact with the startled ones of kingpin’s men. he didn’t have to say anything else. they all immediately surrendered, even the ones intended to be defending kingpin. 
“you know, good help is really hard to find these days,” kingpin groaned.
“save it, doucheface,” gwen said, swooping in to wrap him in her webs.
the doors burst open, revealing jessica and pavitr holding an orange, radiating deactivator, followed by hobie and miles.
jessica gave a nod. “it’s ready.”
“catch!” exclaimed pavitr, throwing the device in the air. 
you caught it in your hands. if anybody deserved to destroy this machine, it was you. and you wanted to do it with kingpin helplessly watching, just like how you watched your fiancé die in front of your own eyes, unable to help.
“say goodbye to this piece of shit, kingpin,” you taunted, handing meadow over to miguel as you approached the accelerator. 
“no!” kingpin roared, restlessly flailing in his restraints, but to no avail. 
nothing felt as satisfying as when you latched the deactivator on the accelerator. the whole machine started to groan, jerking in place, and you backed away. the surface started to crystallize and you watched in pure uncertainty of if this was even going to work. 
for a whole minute, the entire room was deadly silent, only watching. like nobody could tell if it was starting up or breaking down. then, it started to ebb out, atom by atom.
piece by fucking piece.
“it’s over!” gwen exclaimed. 
you bobbed your head. it really was over. this was closure.
“i’ll handle him,” jess volunteered with a sigh, throwing kingpin an unimpressed look before glancing between you and miguel. “y’all got things to hash out.”
you avoided miguel’s eyes.
THE SEVENTH FLOOR OF BROOKLYN HOSPITAL…
it felt like hours that you were waiting inside the hospital lobby, so the second that the nurse came up to you and told you that lani was finally available for visiting, you politely thanked her and attempted to rush the whole way to her room with meadow in yours arms.
“lani,” you exhaled when you opened the door to her room. 
“hi,” lani rasped. she was hooked to lots of different things, paler than usual. though, to be fair, she did almost die. meadow rushed over, handing her a bouquet. “oh, wow, are these for me?”
meadow bobbed her head, beaming proudly. “i picked them all by myself.”
though her every moment was obviously taxing, lani flashed a smile. “you have a great eye, meadow. how’d you know tt loves pink?”
meadow giggled. 
you stepped closer, feeling your heart warm and a tear escape your eye, but you quickly wiped it. “i’m so sorry.”
lani gave you a displeased look. “oh, quit it. this is absolutely not your fault.”
“but it is,” you insisted. “i should have known this day would come. it could have been avoided. you should have left town like your mom or...”
lani called out your name and grabbed your hand with all of her strength. “hey, hey, hey. listen to me. you are my sister and i love you so much. i don’t care what the law says or what happened and what didn’t. there is nothing that would stop me from being there for you and i’d take so many bullets for you both.”
your eyes dampened with tears. 
“it already happened. it’s over,” lani whispered. “let it go.”
you bobbed your head, squeezing her hand back. she was the strongest women you knew, though you had a feeling she would have a contrasting opinion.
meadow inspected the stitches on lani’s arm. “tt, what are you going to do about the stitches?”
lani made a face, as if to say that that was a good question. “well, that scar is for sure never going to fade away and i will indefinitely have some scientific research company’s symbol craved into my skin, but on the plus side, i ironically think i’m officially over my fear of needles. so i’ll probably get a tattoo.”
meadow’s eyes were glimmering and she looked to you. “mommy, can i get a tattoo?”
“when you’re old enough, sweetheart,” you cooed, gently patting her on the back.
meadow pouted.
you threw lani a skeptical look, scoffing, “you of all people are seriously thinking about getting a tattoo?”
“not just thinking about it. i’ve decided,” lani told you matter-of-factly. “i figured that if i could survive a knife in my skin, then a needle is nothing. it’s like i unlocked a superpower.”
you shook your head in disbelief. leave it to lani to always make something out of nothing and the best out of everything. “speaking of unlocking superpowers, you won’t believe what happened today...”
lani furrowed her brows, trying to guess, but when she saw you wiggle yours, all the pieces came into place. “no way.”
you grinned. “yes way.”
“i want to see,” lani said, glancing towards meadow. 
“she can’t do it on command yet. trust me, we tried,” you replied with a chortle. “but i saw it with my own eyes. my baby’s got a gift.”
lani breathed out a sigh of bliss. “she sure does.”
speaking of gifts, there was a knock on your door, followed by an exclamation of, “special delivery!”
you recognized that voice, and seemingly so did lani from the smile on her face. even meadow looked happy. you went to go open the door, revealing miguel, dressed in normal clothes for a change. 
he approached lani, carrying a care package that he sat on her bedside. “i hope i’m not intruding. i wanted to give you a get well soon gift. i got you some chocolates in there, by the way, but don’t eat them too soon. they make your blood sugar levels increase, i heard.”
he definitely heard that from lyla, but he wasn’t going to mention that part.
“thank you, miguel,” lani said, glimpsing through the bag. “how you’d know i love ferrero?”
“someone mentioned it in passing,” miguel said, scratching his nape. 
your heart fluttered. he remembered something that you mentioned in passing?
lani nodded in approval, ever so grateful. there were also some soft blankets in there on top of other things. “well, i appreciate it.”
“it’s no problem,” miguel responded, then he glanced towards you, an unreadable look in his eyes. “we need to talk.”
“right,” you drawled. “lead the way.”
miguel turned his back, heading for the door. before you walked out, lani mouthed to you, “he’s a keeper.”
your heart skipped a beat. 
you closed the door behind yourself, looking up to meet miguel’s eyes. “well?”
miguel kissed you. in front of all of the hospital staff roaming the halls, in front of the loose patients, but you didn’t care. all you gave a damn about was his lips on yours and the way his broad shoulders felt in your palms. it was slow and sensual, a first kiss between lovers.
nothing else mattered in that moment. you forgot all of your pain and agony, all of your fears and woes. you forgot the past because you were so deeply rooted in that moment that nothing else occurred to you anymore.
when you two parted to breathe, you jokingly rasped, “i sure like the way you speak.”
miguel chuckled, placing a hand on his hip, before he sobered. “listen to me. i know i lied to you, but i wasn’t doing it to hurt you.”
“i know,” you whispered. “i’m not mad anymore. but i’m not sorry for storming out. my baby...”
“i know,” miguel finished. like he knew the feeling. “she means the world to you. and lani.”
you nodded. 
“i’m… i’m sorry for taking you away from them. she might’ve been okay if i hadn’t,” miguel apologized, much to his own shock. you unlocked sides of him that nobody else had seen, pieces of him he didn’t even know were still there.
“it already happened. it’s over,” you whispered, as a wise woman had once told you. it was water under the bridge. “let it go.”
miguel almost seemed nervous, which was a surprise. you had literally never seen this man nervous.
grabbing his hand and inching closer to his chest, you asked softly, “did you mean it? when you said you lost your family?”
miguel swallowed. “yes. i know how it feels.”
“then you know that it’s hard,” you started, scrambling for words. “you know, reopening yourself to people. being vulnerable. becoming a slave to your feelings because you don’t want to risk getting hurt again.”
miguel was silent, but you knew from the look in his eyes that he understood you completely. 
“but i want to give it a try with you,” you said, voice hardly the frequent beeping scattered along the hospital floor. “and the team.”
miguel’s eyes widened. “you want…”
“yes,” you cut him off. “i want to be on the team. although, i’m not sure how i’ll fit in. i’m not a spider-thing after all.”
miguel groaned, “who gives a damn? i’ll change the whole name for you.”
you giggled, wrapped your hands around his waist.
miguel found himself doing the same to you, holding you as he stared at you with all the affections a man had to offer. he just couldn’t wrap his head around it, or what it meant for the two of you, but he knew you’d both figure it out. 
“miguel?”
“mm?”
“you’re always welcome to be a part of my family,” you whispered gently, voice muffled against his shirt, though he heard you loud and clear. 
miguel’s eyes fluttered closed, holding onto you like he never wanted to let go, like he’d finally found a refuge in you. somewhere where he felt safe enough to let go. “you’re a part of mine now, too.”
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nicodrawings · 10 months
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Dump time featuring Billie Morales aka Silly Billie
Update 2: oh! Also the first two illustrations are based on Yotsuba art!
Update: ok HC time, if you wanna know more keep reading as usual.
BILLIE SECTION
-I made Billie 5 years old.
-I’ve mentioned this before but Billie has Asperger’s.
-She didn’t talk until she was like 3 going on 4.
-Her nickname is "silly billy"
-Miles always says "how's my favorite girl in the whole wide world?" when he comes home from school on the weekends.
-Miles is a doting big brother and helps take care of her as well as connecting with her interests.
-As much as she loves her parents, she thinks the world of Miles. She's up under him the most, especially when she's over stimulated, stressed or sleepy. His heartbeat calms her.
-She has a limit to physical contact and taps when she’s ready to let go. She usually only hugs her family. Her and Ganke do hand touches instead of hugs.
-The family helps her navigate her environment and her emotions as well as socializing but never push anything that makes her uncomfortable. They always ask questions and have special routines to help her.
-A part of her routine is on Saturdays they go to the park so she can see the pigeons.
-Miles does not like pigeons, but tolerates them for Billies sake.
-They also have special songs for her like "🎶when you walk across the street take ur eyes off your feet🎶" to remind her to look both ways and pay attention when walking across the street since she can get distracted easily.
-The songs they use also attach her to music. So whenever they go to ganke he plays the piano for her and they make songs up and when she hears a song she likes she starts stimming and wiggling.
-She also takes interest in drawing because she sees Miles drawing and they draw animals and watch Steve Irwin on Saturdays too.
-She doesn't understand figure of speeches so if you say "don't sweat it" she would be like "...sweat what?"
-she doesn’t show a lot of emotions unless she’s feeling something intense.
-She rarely sees Miles in superhero mode in public but when she does she just goes “SPIDER!” and smiles and he waves at her.
-Moral of this story, she is loved.
HOBIE
-He lives with his grandparents in the Bronx area (I’m not sure which side yet tho).
-He loves his grandparents very much.
-One time at a punk rock concert a wise man told him “the most punk thing to do is to take care of yourself, don’t be reliant on the system to do so, cuz they ain’t”
-He told his grandpa the following day and they had a heart to heart about it considering that Hobie was very depressed at the time.
-So with that being said, health is incredibly important to him.
-Some ppl tease him and call him “straight-edge” but it don’t bother him much.
-Hobie officially meets the other spiders when he’s 16.
-Clicks with Gwen and Miles almost immediately.
-Especially Miles, Peter always jokes and says that they were definitely brothers in their past lives.
-Gwen and Hobie bond over music.
-Gwen gets the crush first.
-But unlike Miles she’s more forward and doesn’t wait a billion years so she’s asks him out.
-Hobie says yes.
-Only one that knows how to drive by the time he’s 18.
OTHER STUFF
-Gwen’s relationship with her father just…never gets better in my AU. He’s just an ass and as far as Gwen is concerned they’re not family, they’re just related. With that being said, although it’s never acknowledged, Gwen definitely sees Peter as a father figure in her life. She even has him as her top emergency contact. Peter started to understand this when she was 16, he never questioned it and sees her as his oldest daughter. When she’s had really bad arguments with her father she goes to Peters and spends the night.
-Peter and MJ’s home is open to all the spiderkids. No questions asked.
-Peter and MJ always say “On our taxes we have one kid” when people ask them how many kids they have.
-When Peter gets home he sees how many pairs of shoes are at the door then yells “how many kids are in the house?" They usually yell in response which gives him an idea as to how many kids are there.
-On average there’s no less than 2.
-One time he asked and a really deep voice responded along with the kids.
-It was Venom.
-All the spiders have their own therapist’s but every other weekend there’s a group therapy session for kids with powers funded by S.H.E.I.L.D. It’s not required that they go but it’s open for them regardless, just sign up and come in.
-Ganke donates some of his legos to the program and helps assist sometimes with running it since it’s not ran in the best shape.
-This connects to a bigger problem of helping hero’s with their mental health and stability, especially when they decide to retire.
-If you read the other AU list I had, this is the reason why Ganke switches his major to Social Work when he goes to college.
NICKNAMES
Peter’s nicknames for the kids:
Miles-“Junior/Little Man”
May-“Mayday”
Gwen-"Gwennie Pie”
Ganke-“Goober”
Hobie-“Hobie” (obviously)
Anya-“Ani”
Ganke’s nicknames:
Friends-“Gee” judge calls him “G-money”
Miles’s mom-“Honey”
Ganke’s mom-“Gee-Chan”
The boy that bullies him AKA Sean “Gay-ke”
Peter-“Goober” (as I’ve said before)
Venom and Eddie-“Boy”
Miles’s for when he’s feeling affectionate-“Cariño”
Anyway that’s all I got for now! If you have any questions about my AU please feel free to ask away. I love talking about it as you can see.
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daisynik7 · 8 months
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hi, nikki :) congrats on 2k, my love 💕you deserve it and more! i’m just sending in a lil something for the milestone event: (i bet you look good on the dancefloor) by arctic monkeys — fluff/smut for reiner braun! thank you so much in advance, lovely! 🎀
I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor
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Pairing: Reiner Braun x f!reader
Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Word Count: ~4.7k
cw: modern-day au, college au, drinking (everyone is 21+), fluff, smut – PIV sex (missionary), cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, pet names (sweetheart, baby)
Summary: You, a college senior who’s lived a mostly vanilla lifestyle the past four years, meet the alluring and mysterious Reiner at your friend’s birthday party. He’s different from you in many ways, but something about him captivates you like no other. When he invites you to an underground concert, you take a chance with him, craving for a taste of something different.
Author’s Notes: @pinkmirth Mira, my love! Thank you for participating in the y2k karaoke party! I appreciate you so so much and I hope I did your hubby justice with this one! I went a little over the word count that I originally thought I would, but I just couldn’t help it! I got too caught up in the setup, LOL, sorry! Special shoutout to @mobolanz for always posting amazing Reiner content that kept me motivated to finish this hehe.
Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are ALWAYS appreciated! Thank you for reading! MDNI banner by @/cafekitsune. Header image from Pinterest (although I’m fairly certain it’s from the manhwa 19 Days).
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It’s Annie’s 22nd birthday today; instead of going out to a club or bar, she decides she’d rather have a kickback with her closest friends, eating pizza and drinking cheap alcohol. Armin and Eren offer to host at their place, which is a twenty-minute walk from the university. As an RA for one of the freshman dorms on campus, it’s nice to get out every once in a while in the city that you so rarely have a chance to explore, even if it is just at someone else’s house. When you arrive, you recognize all of the people already there, other students you either personally know or have seen in passing. You greet Annie with a hug, handing her a small gift bag with a bottle of her favorite liquor. “Thank you!” she exclaims. “I’m so glad you were able to make it.”
“Me too! Though, I’ve got my work phone on me in case there are any emergencies,” you reply, pointing to the crossbody bag hanging on your shoulder. 
“Always so responsible. Such a good girl,” she teases, pinching your cheek. 
In your four years as a college student, you haven’t done anything outside of your comfort zone. You waited until you were officially legal to drink, and even now, you barely do it. Studies and extracurriculars always took priority over your social life, and while you have a solid group of friends, you haven’t done anything remotely wild. It’s not because you don’t have the desire to, there’s just never been a good opportunity. 
You spend the next half hour chatting with a few of the partygoers, sharing stories on certain professors, gossiping about other students, all while nursing a White Claw, sipping it slowly. It seems all of Annie’s friends are already here, so you don’t except anyone else to arrive. So, it surprises you when there’s a loud pounding on the door. Everyone glances towards it, curious at who it is. Annie answers, revealing two well-built men. One of them is incredibly tall that he has to duck down to enter through the doorway. The other is slightly shorter, though still impressive, with broad shoulders and a muscular physique. He has short blond hair, a trimmed goatee, sharp jawline, and an intimidating gaze. Something about his appearance is striking, and you’re immediately intrigued. 
You watch as they embrace the birthday girl, who punches them playfully in the shoulders. “Long time, no see, punks.”
“Sorry, Annie,” the taller one apologizes. “Classes have been a colossal pain lately.”
“And I’ve been busy at the shop,” the other adds. His voice is exactly what you imagine it would be like: gruff, husky. Sexy. Your interest piques even more, and you can’t remember the last time you felt this way about anyone, especially a complete stranger. When he removes his black leather jacket, your eyes widen at the reveal of his biceps, toned and sculpted like a marble statue. He’s wearing a fitted white tank with dark jeans, a chain hanging on the loop of his waistband with a small set of keys dangling. As if he couldn’t get any more attractive, here he is, flaunting his ripped body. You continue to watch him as he hangs his jacket on the coat rack by the door, inspecting the room while talking to Annie. “So, are these all college friends of yours?”
“Yup. You’re the only delinquents here,” she jokes, passing each of them a beer. 
“Shut up,” he laughs, twisting the cap off to take a swig. “Whose house is this anyways?”
She points to Armin and Eren, who sit on the couch, talking animatedly. “It’s theirs. They were nice enough to offer.”
“Cool. I guess I should go mingle, then. Unless you think these people will be scared of me.”
“Some of them could use some scaring, if you know what I mean,” she replies with a smirk. 
The two strangers make their way towards the hosts, shaking their hands to introduce themselves. You take this chance to approach your friend in the kitchen. “Annie, how do you know them?” 
“Bertolt and Reiner? Oh, they’re childhood friends of mine. We all grew up together in Marley.”
“Oh,” you nod. “Cool.”
She raises a brow at you. “Why? Are you interested?”
“No! I was just curious! I’ve never seen them around before.” Your voice is squeaky, and you’ve clearly given yourself away. 
She snickers, nudging you in the arm. “I can introduce you if you want. They’re a lot nicer than they look.” 
“No, I wouldn’t want to bother them – ”
“Reiner!” Annie calls out to the blond, and heat instantly surrounds your face. Too late to turn back, you stand up straight, watching the attractive man return to the kitchen, finished with his beer. “What’s up?”
“I want you to meet my friend.” Annie beckons you forward, stating your name. You smile at him, holding your arm out. 
He flashes a charming grin at you, enough to send a flutter in your belly. “I’m Reiner. Nice to meet you.” He shakes your hand, gripping you firmly. 
“I’m going to go socialize. You two get along, okay?” Annie departs quickly, leaving you and Reiner to get acquainted. 
“I heard that you’ve known Annie since she was a kid,” you start, attempting small talk. “What was she like back then?”
He leans on the refrigerator door, folding his arms across his chest, displaying his large chest. “She was a little shit, just like she is now,” he laughs. “She’s probably tamer since college though. We used to get into a bunch of fights together.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. She can really kick some ass if she wanted to.” He licks his lips before asking, “How do you know her?”
You try not to get distracted by the dirty thoughts swimming in your head right now, more and more attracted to him by the second. “We met in a class back in sophomore year, and we’ve been friends ever since. She’s really fun to be around.”
“And how about you?” His eyes bore into yours, and there’s an intensity in his gaze that you’re drawn by. “Are you fun to be around?”
You let out a laugh, shaking your head. “Probably not. I’m pretty vanilla.”
“Vanilla is good.”
“Vanilla is safe,” you argue.
“It’s also sweet, creamy, and delicious.”
You giggle, already so smitten by him. “Are you telling me that I’m sweet, creamy, and delicious?”
“I guess I’ll have to find that out myself.” There’s a twinkle in his eyes as he speaks to you, and this could be wishful thinking, but a spark ignites between you. For the first time in your uneventful college life, you’re flirting with the outsides of your comfort zone, slowly gravitating towards this mysterious and alluring stranger. And it’s exciting.
You continue your conversation, exchanging little flirtations here and there, learning more about him. The friend he arrived with, Bertolt, currently goes to school in Marley, where they both live. Reiner is a mechanic at a car shop in his hometown of Liberio. He’s never attended college and doesn’t plan to, already set to inherit the shop when the owner retires.  On the weekends, he enjoys riding his motorbike around town and going out to underground concerts. You reveal to him how different your weekends are compared to his, considering you usually stay in.
“Have you ever been to an underground concert?” The two of you have moved into Annie’s room now, where it’s quieter and away from the rest of the party. It was your idea; you weren’t thinking about how it would look, asking him to move into a more intimate setting. He keeps a safe distance from you at the edge of the bed, the door ajar so that you can barely hear the chatter outside. 
“No, never,” you reply. “I used to listen to some alternative rock back in the day.”
“Really?” He seems surprised as he takes a sip out of his water cup. “Who?”
You hum, trying to remember. You name a few, then end with, “Oh! And the Arctic Monkeys!” 
When he starts singing the chorus to one of their songs, your face lights up, recognizing the familiar tune. “Yes! I love that one!” you beam, nodding along with him. 
There’s that endearing twinkle again, scooting closer to you. “You’re so cute.”
His comment catches you off guard, and just when you thought you were keeping your cool, your whole body starts to heat up, completely flustered at the sudden compliment. “What?”
“I said you’re so cute,” he repeats, unfazed. As if he didn’t just rock your world. 
You swallow loudly. “Thank you. You’re really…handsome.”
He bursts out laughing, maintaining his gaze on you. “Handsome. The last time I heard that was from my mom when I was a kid.” 
“Well, what else am I supposed to say?!” 
“Hey, I’ll take it. I’m more than happy with that.” He leans forward and you’re gravitating towards him, gradually closing the gap between you. You’re inches from his face, so close to kissing, when your phone rings loudly in your purse on the nightstand. It startles the both of you, taking you a second to realize that it’s your work phone, indicating some sort of RA emergency. 
One of your residents is begging to be let in after losing their keys somewhere. You tell them you’re on your way, giving Reiner a guilty glance. When you’re finished with the call, you explain the situation. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”
“I’ll give you a ride,” he offers, standing up.
“I drove here, so I’m fine. But thank you.”
“Then I’ll walk you to your car.” You don’t have the heart to reject him once more, so you agree, delivering quick goodbyes to your friends and to Annie, who eyes you curiously as Reiner follows you out. He walks beside you with his hands in his pockets, not speaking. When you’re at the door, he utters your name. “I’d really like to see you again.” He looks nervous, all the confidence he exuded earlier reduced into a shy expression.
You smile at him, chest swelling. “I’d really like to see you too.”  
“Next weekend, there’s a concert I think you’d enjoy. It’s in Marley, but I can totally come here to pick you up and – ”��
Before he starts rambling, you interrupt him politely. “I don’t mind driving to you. It’s not that far.” You give him your phone; he enters his number as a new contact. You give him a quick call so that he has yours. It’s like you’re teenagers, awkwardly exchanging info, all giddy and timid. “Text me the details, okay?” 
“Yeah, I will.” He waits until you’re in the car, waving at you one last time before he shuts the door carefully. You glance at him through the rear-view mirror,  grinning as he watches you drive off, already wishing it was next weekend. 
~~~
Saturday finally arrives, the day you’ve been eagerly anticipating since the night you met Reiner. It’s unusual for you to be so enamored with someone you’ve only known for a week, worst of all, met once. You’ve been messaging non-stop since, even upgraded to a phone call last night that almost went until morning. And now, you’re pulling into a guest parking spot outside his apartment complex with an overnight bag hidden away in your trunk, just in case. 
You head up a flight of stairs, searching for his number on the row of doors until you find the correct one, knocking twice, heartbeat already quickening. He answers promptly, dressed in a fitted black t-shirt that accentuates his ripped build. You swallow the saliva gathering in your mouth to greet him casually, hoping he doesn’t notice you practically drooling for him. “Hi.”
“Hi,” he mimics, smiling at you. “You ready to go?” 
You nod, surprised when he dangles two helmets, presenting one of them to you. “Are we taking your bike?”
“Yeah. That’s the only way I get around. Is that okay with you?”
You hesitate before responding, “Sure.”
He gives you a reassuring look. “Don’t worry. You’re safe with me. I promise.”
You learn soon enough that Reiner is a man of his word. With your arms around his waist, latched firmly to his abs, all you feel is exhilaration. He cruises through the streets of Marley, the night sky illuminated by the blur of city lights as you pass through downtown. The two of you don’t speak, the whoosh of wind rushing past your ears too deafening to hear anything but that and the engine. When he’s at a stop, he turns around to check on you, giving you a thumbs up, which you return enthusiastically. It also helps that he smells amazing: the subtle cologne on his clothes, the clean scent of his skin. Everything about him is attractive, and you can’t help but be drawn to him even more than you already were. 
He parks his bike in an alley next to a venue with a big marquee, spelling the name “Lakua”. Below it shows that a band called “The Warriors” are playing tonight. You hop off first, unbuckling your helmet and passing it to him. He knocks a specific rhythm on a nearby door, and suddenly, a girl with wavy, black hair answers, grabbing them from his hands. “Thanks Pieck,” he says. 
“Sure. Who’s you’re friend?” She examines you, smiling. 
He states your name, adding, “I met her at Annie’s party last week.”
“I see,” she muses. “Well, have fun tonight.” With that, she winks at you, then shuts the door. 
“We can go through the front,” he tells you, leading the way out of the alley and underneath the bright sign you saw earlier. There’s a bearded bouncer with wire-rimmed glasses at the front who acknowledges Reiner with a nod. “Evening, Reiner. IDs please.”
As you retrieve your licenses, Reiner slips him a wad of cash for admittance. “Hey Zeke. Did you hear them warm up?” 
“Yep.” He juts his chin towards you. “Porco and Marcel are in top form tonight. Your pretty friend here is in for a real treat.”
“Great, we’re going in now,” Reiner responds quickly, wrapping his arm around you to steer you through the door. There’s a bar on one side, stocked with the typical shelves of liquor and four bartenders serving those that crowd around them. On the opposite end is a stage, set up with instruments, speakers, and lights. There’s a horde gathered near the front, waiting for the main act to start. 
Reiner’s breath is warm on your ear when he says, “Follow me.” He holds your hand delicately, expertly maneuvering through the throng of concertgoers. He leads you past a curtained door towards the back, towards a closed room, knocking the same rhythm from earlier. It’s Pieck who answers, opening the door to usher you inside. “Hello again.” 
On the couch are two men who resemble each other. Another with light brown hair stands in front of the mirror, fixing his hair. When you and Reiner enter, they all look, happily yelling, “Reiner!”
He introduces you to the brothers, Porco and Marcel, the two who are seated. They both play guitar and do vocals, Porco being the lead. Colt, who gives you a friendly wave, is their drummer. Pieck, the bassist, formally introduces herself. Together, they are The Warriors. 
“We mostly do covers,” Marcel explains. “But we have some stuff in the works.”
“We tried to get Reiner to join, but he’s as tone-deaf as they come,” Porco teases, poking him in the arm.  
Reiner chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s true. I’m pretty awful.”
“But he’s really good at other things. I’m sure you know that already,” Marcel comments, smirking. 
Pieck shoves the guitarist’s arm. “Don’t be gross.” She redirects her attention to you. “Anyways, I hope you enjoy the show. Reiner’s been bugging us all week with requests. I have a hunch that you have something to do with it.” 
You smile at him, noticing a faint blush on his cheeks. “Requests?”
“You’ll see,” he replies, grinning. 
When it’s time for the band to perform, you make your way back to the dancefloor, more packed than it was when you first arrived. You manage to squeeze your way towards the front, Reiner huddled close behind you. Normally, you’d be claustrophobic, surrounded by all these hot, sweaty strangers. Reiner places his hands on your shoulders, leaning in to say, “I’m right here, okay? It might get a little rowdy, so if you want to leave, just tell me.”
You crane your neck to face him; he’s extremely close to you, enough that your noses are almost touching. It’s tempting to shift just the slightest bit forward and kiss him, but you resist the urge, already thrilled to be with him like this. 
The crowd hollers as The Warriors strut across the stage, waving. At the mic, Porco yells, “Y’all ready to have fun tonight?!” 
Louder applause erupts, and once Marcel starts a familiar guitar riff, it’s chaos in the best way possible. Soon, the bassline hits, then the drums, and your entire body thumps with each beat. It’s a song you recognize, and you’re impressed at how accurate they sound to the original while maintaining their own unique style. Marcel harmonizes perfectly with his brother, and together, their charisma on stage hypes everyone up. You bop your head to the melody, grinning ear-to-ear at how fun this is, the energy that surrounds you contagious. Reiner sways with you, grazing your back. You reach for his hand, brushing it with yours, turning to face him. “They’re so good!” you yell. 
The two of you continue to enjoy the concert, dancing in whichever way the rest of the crowd is moving. You notice halfway through the setlist that many of the songs they’re playing are from artists you listed for him the night you met. The realization really hits you when the iconic intro from the Arctic Monkeys song Reiner hummed for you starts, and you turn completely around with the biggest smile on your face. He beams at you, equally as thrilled, dancing erratically with your fingers entwined together, mouthing the lyrics at each other, completely in sync.
~~~
It's past midnight by the time you make it back to Reiner’s place. Your skin is sticky from sweat, eardrums heavy from the concert, and you really don’t want to go home. You’re unsure if Reiner feels the same way until he unlocks his front door, suggesting, “Do you want to sleep over?” He asks it casually, though there is a hint of hesitation. 
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I have enough stuff you can use. You can borrow my clothes.” 
You’re completely aware of the bag tucked away in your car right now, but the idea of wearing his clothes is too enticing, so you don’t mention it. 
While you shower in his bathroom, your curiosity gets the best of you. You inspect all the products he uses, sniffing the pleasant scent before lathering it on yourself, satisfied with smelling exactly like him. You brush your teeth in front of the foggy mirror, wrapped in a towel, wondering how tonight is going to end. Should you make the first move? Should you make any move at all? Even with the vibes totally there, you’re still uncertain if he reciprocates your feelings. There’s this titillating tension hanging in the air, but you’re too nervous to cut it, afraid of rejection, of misunderstanding. Maybe this is the furthest the two of you will go, so you take advantage of this moment, hugging yourself in his t-shirt and boxers he lent you, inhaling his essence until it’s ingrained in your memory. 
After you’re done, you walk out of the bathroom. He sits at the edge of the bed, scrolling through his phone. When he sees you, his eyes widen, scanning you up and down. “Wow.” It escapes out of his mouth abruptly, and he stammers, “Um, sorry. I’m…I’m going to shower now.” He gets up, avoiding your gaze, locking himself inside. 
Maybe this isn’t the furthest the two of you will go.
~~~
You sit up in the bed, resting against the headboard, waiting for him. After a few minutes, he walks out, waist wrapped in a towel, chest bared and dewy with water. He glances at you, looking away to search his drawer for a new shirt. The tension is palpable, even more so now than ever before. 
You clear your throat, wanting to break this unbearable silence. “Thank you again for letting me stay here.”
“Of course,” he mumbles, sliding a shirt over his head. He bends down to retrieve a pair of boxers on the lower shelf, slipping it underneath his towel. Dressed, he returns to the bathroom to hang his towel on the rack. You watch him carefully, so many thoughts racing in your head, the words on the tip of your tongue. He stands awkwardly in the middle of the room, staring at the carpet beneath his feet. “I’ll be on the couch if you need anything,” he murmurs, heading towards the door. 
“Reiner, wait.” 
He faces you, eager. “Yes?”
“Sleep here with me.” You pat the space next to you. “Don’t make me lonely tonight.”
He swallows thickly, taking long strides to get to you quick, crawling beside you. “Are you sure?”
You nod, reaching out to touch his cheek. “Absolutely sure.” 
Fingers laced around the nape of his neck, you pull him in for a kiss, his plush lips surrounding yours seamlessly. He kisses you with fervor, slipping into your mouth, tongue swirling around yours. You yank on his collar, stretching the fabric, imploring him to strip his top off, which his does in a fluid motion. Caged between his biceps, you lay beneath him, caressing his face while you smother him in your kisses. When you break free to catch your breath, he nuzzles his nose to yours, whispering, “I’ve been waiting all night to do this. All week, actually.”
“Yeah?” you coo, trailing down his neck, flushed with excitement. “So have I.”
“You’re so fucking sexy in my clothes,” he huffs, hooking the elastic of your boxers with his finger. “You’re not wearing any panties, are you?” 
You shake your head, and he smirks, sliding down the bed to position himself between your legs, tugging at your bottoms. You lift your hips up, wriggling out as he removes them off you, tossing it behind him. He stares at your pussy, throbbing and aching for his touch. Grabbing you behind the knees, he spreads you open, exposing your cunt. He doesn’t dawdle any longer, diving in to spread his tongue on your clit. You throw your head back into the pillows, staring at the ceiling, vision blurry from pleasure as he eats you out, determined to have his thirst quenched. He swallows every ounce of you, running his tongue along your slit and flicking it on your bud. And when your orgasm is so close to the peak, he puckers around you, sucking on your clit until it’s raw and swollen. You climax, squirming and whining, clenching the bedsheets, twisting it in your fists.
“Fuck,” he muffles, lapping at your cum as it spills out of your cunt. “Getting so messy for me.” His finger teases your entrance while he continues to flick his tongue on your sensitive bud. “Can you give me one more?” he coos, peering up at you with adoration, placing a wet smooch on the inside of your thigh. “Pretty please, sweetheart?” 
You have no choice but to oblige, sinking into the cushions once more, twitching with ecstasy as he strokes your pussy with your clit in his mouth. There’s nothing on your brain except for Reiner and all the different positions he can fuck you in. You come a second time with two of his digits inside you, pussy covered in spit and arousal. He chuckles, scattering kisses along your body until he’s face-to-face with you, rubbing his nose to yours affectionately. His stiff cock protrudes from his boxers, and you reach down to palm it, kissing his lips, glossy with your slick.
He moans, rutting into your hand. “You’re a fucking dream, you know that?”
You smile, pressing your forehead to his. “I was just thinking the same thing about you.”
He stretches his arm towards the nightstand, searching the top drawer to retrieve condoms and a bottle of lube. “Think you can take me?” he smirks, shoving his underwear down his legs, erection sprung against his chiseled abs. He’s bigger than you fantasized; your pussy throbs, yearning to be filled by his impressive cock. You nod dumbly, salivating for him. He scoots closer, removing his boxers, stroking himself rapidly, licking his lips. “I knew you would taste good. Sweet, creamy. Delicious.”
You giggle, remembering what he said to you a week ago. Spreading your thighs open, you caress your clit between your fingers, watching him pump his cock in his fist. “Fuck,” you moan, growing impatient. “Fuck me, Reiner. Hurry.”
Ripping the wrapper with his teeth, he rolls the condom on his cock, coating it with a generous amount of lube. “Okay, beautiful. I’ll give you what you want. I’ll give it to you so good.” He guides himself inside you, stretching your pussy until he bottoms out. “Fuck,” he drawls, nestling in comfortably. “So fucking hot.” 
You drape your arms over his shoulders, holding him limply, already spent from your previous orgasms, still so horny for him. He fucks you, legs coiled around his torso, gripping your waist, dragging your body towards him with each thrust. Saliva dribbles out the sides of your mouth, eyes half-closed in a dumb expression, blissfully fucked. He takes pleasure in seeing you unravel like this, clutching you tighter, increasing the pace. “Oh fuck, you’re amazing.” He holds you close, bucking his hips frantically, staring wildly at you beneath him. “I knew it the moment we met, then tonight at the concert. Knew you were special.”
You whimper his name, squeezing him tighter. “Reiner, right there, right there!”
“Yeah? Feels good?” he purrs, circling your clit with his thumb. “Then come on my cock, baby. Show me how much you love it.” He presses his groin to your pussy, burying himself deep inside you, ceasing his thrusts to focus on your approaching orgasm. Frothy spit drips from his mouth directly onto your bud, smearing it with his fingers. You convulse around him, ecstasy coursing through your body, electrifying every nerve all the way down to your toes. His name pours out of you in moans, skin sweltering against the sheets, dewy with sweat. You’re a sticky mess for him, overstimulated from your three consecutive orgasms. And yet, you’re desperate for more.
“Don’t stop,” you whine, reaching out to him weakly. “You’re amazing, Reiner.”
He takes your hand, holding it to his lips, kissing your fingertips lightly. “You take it so good. My beautiful, gorgeous girl.” 
You orgasm twice more in this position until he’s nearing his own. His jaw is clenched, brows furrowed tight, ready to lose it. “Tell me where you want it.”
You blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “On me. Come on me, Rei. All over my clit and pussy.”
He groans, pulling out quickly to snap the condom off, pumping his cock in his fist. Within seconds, he’s nutting on you, shooting his seed onto your bud, watching it trickle down to your sopping cunt. “Fuck,” he moans, dick rigid in his grasp. He taps the tip on your drenched clit, relishing the lewd squelch it makes. “So fucking creamy for me.” There’s a wicked glint in his eyes, fixated on how his cum glazes your loins, and excitement bubbles in your core again, realizing that he has no intention of ending it here.
“Like what you see?” you goad him, dipping your fingers in his mess, stuffing it into your cunt. “I told you not to stop, didn’t I? So what are you waiting for?”
He leans over you, kissing you passionately, grinding his dick between your pussy lips. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’ve got all the time in the world now.”
364 notes · View notes
galaxycunt · 1 month
Text
I Dream Of You
The Punk Buggy fic 😎 just for u my friends @gayafsatan @gingernut1314 @hey-august @rorywritesjunk @operationroots
Modern AU kinda
Let us all think back on the time of hooking up at a show with sticky floors and your ears left ringing for a few days after.
You wouldn’t admit it to a single soul, but you had a crush on Buggy. He was the kind of guy you couldn’t miss in a crowd, you weren’t sure if you’d even recognize him without his clown get up. Sometimes he’d even dress like a pirate, he was a funny guy. Buggy the Clown.
He’d never notice you though, people gravitate towards a guy like that, not someone like you. So tonight, you watched him like always. At point in the night he lost the big red clown nose he always wore, currently on his hands and knees looking for the damn thing while one of his friends held up their phone for a light.
You saw it though, you could be the hero. Before the woman next to you could step on the nose, or your hands, you grabbed it. You felt a cold sweat, you had your chance. Did he know you? You knew the band that opened, surely that wasn’t too weird to bring up?
“Hey! Buggy!”
He flashed a smile, prancing over to you, “holy shit. Thanks!”
“I’m uh,” you were more flustered than you realized.
“What?”
You repeated your name, shouting into his ear. He nodded with a smile, motioning you for a drink. You second guessed the way you nodded as you two navigated your way to the kitchen.
“Let’s go outside,” he said.
This was so fast, you almost couldn’t believe it.
“I’ve seen you around, you live here?”
“Nah, my friend does. They’re the opener.”
“Oh shit! That’s cool!”
You nodded, thinking of the best thing to say as he smoked and drank.
“I know you, Buggy. I really dig the costume.”
“It’s my uniform.”
“Oh is it? That’s so cool, man.”
He laughed, “yeah I can make balloon animals. I juggle too.”
“That’s so fucking cool! Wait, like anything? Can you juggle, uh, sticks?”
He laughed, picking up three random sticks in the yard to juggle. A few people turned to watch, but he only focused on you if not the sticks in the air.
You applauded, “see that’s why clowns are hot.”
He cocked his head, “what’d you say?”
You blushed, “clowns are fun. I never got the whole they’re scary thing. They’re funny.”
He only smiled, letting a comfortable silence fall as you listened to the band from outside. You wracked your brains for conversation starters, you didn’t think you’d get this far.
“Would you like another beer?”
“Yes, please.”
“Stay put.”
You locked eyes with a friend, nodding in approval. This was so embarrassing, everyone was gonna know by the end of the night. You looked at your friend again.
“Fuck him,” they mouthed.
Did he wanna fuck you? Should you try?
“For you,” he bowed, holding out a can.
“Thanks.”
“Least I can do, you saved my nose.”
“Where’s Richie?”
He had a small cat on a leash sometimes, the only other time you’ve talked to Buggy was to pet his cat.
“He’s getting old, left him at home for some peace.”
“Aw, I love that little cat. He’s so good.”
“Well maybe you can come over, meet him.”
“I-I’d love that.”
Buggy stared at you a beat before speaking, “can I kiss you?”
“Yes.”
Why he wanted to do that, you’ll find out later. Right now, all your brain focused on was his lips on yours.
“So why are clowns hot?”
You flushed, “o-oh. My god, uh. It’s kinda like a mask but not? I can get all messy when we make out?”
He raised his eyebrows, “interesting. I like it.”
You tried to shrug nonchalantly, “yeah, man. I like what I like.”
“You’re cute, you know that?”
You smiled so brightly at him, he seemed to love it.
“Come on, you say this is your friend’s house?”
“Yeah.”
He smiled, “so they won’t mind if we discussed this more inside?”
Your heart skipped a beat as he led you towards the upstairs bathroom. He rubbed your back, your hand flew to your cheeks to cover the burning you figured was too obvious at this point.
Before you could say a word, he pushed you against the door, teeth grazing your lips and your ears. Instinctively, you spread your legs, arms holding you steady on his shoulders.
“Do the gloves make it hotter or do you want it off?”
You thought about it, “off. The nose too.”
He laughed into your kiss, squeezing your thighs before he fumbled around with your jeans. You could barely think, you hoped the music was loud enough, the line outside not forming too long.
Would it be too cheesy to say anything? Your hands dropped to roam under his shirt, the cool metal of his piercings under your warm skin sent a hiss escaping his mouth. Your glided your palms against him again, he bit your lip in thanks.
Buggy shoved your pants down, dipping a finger inside you. You couldn’t stay as quiet as you wanted to, bucking your hips into his hand as he fingered you.
“Fuck me, buggy. Oh shit.”
“Beg for it.”
“Please, oh fuck. Please.”
You watched yourself in the bathroom mirror getting fucked, Buggy was only focused on your pleasure. You only had a few moments before someone would really know what you two were up to in here, he thrusted faster and faster.
“Fuck anyone outside, let them fucking hear it.”
You moaned hoarsely as you came around his cock. Buggy mumbling in your ear as his thrust became erratic.
“Fuck, I always wanted to fuck you. Fucking shit.”
You let him fill you up, he didn’t pull out as he caught his breath. He splashed his face with water, looking at the two of you in the mirror.
“Picasso.”
“Shut up, jerk,” you smiled.
You cleaned up the best you could, with Buggy stealing kisses the entire time.
You pretended you were in there puking, looking sick as he slung his arm around you. You were really dehydrated, you wanted to sleep.
“Lemme take you home, go see Richie.”
You nodded, “yeah.”
Buggy smiled at himself before speaking, “make you honk like a real clown.”
To him, the shove you gave him was worth it.”
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lvrcpid · 1 year
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young, dumb and broke - modern!au
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includes : reader is gn! use of they/them pronouns. DAD TSU’TEY AGENDA!! most of the kids are 17 with lo’ak being 16 (i had to keep the age gap), i STRUGGLED writing for 14-15 year old freshman. sfw!!
high school with modern!avatar headcannons
lo’ak:
— rizz master
— only messes with tsireya though
— we love a loyal king don’t we ladies
— since y/n can drive, he’s constantly asking them for rides
— “PLEASE Y/N NETEYAM SAID NO-“
— “shut up and get in the car.”
— definitely on the basketball team
— points to tsireya and says “this one’s for you baby” AND MISSES 🤭
— he probably has good grades just is a big class clown. like no seriously his jokes are hilarious even the teachers laugh.
— speaking of teachers all of his teachers love him. he’s really respectful (THANK YOU JAKEY POOH!!)
— he’s so trifling
— def would go around quoting “GIRL WHERE YOU GOING- MMMMWAH!!!”
neteyam:
— tries to be mysterious but fails miserably
— probably one of the popular kids but he’s not a jerk about it
— FOOTBALL CAPTAIN. NO MORE CHITCHAT.
— def makes y/n wear his jersey at his games
— gets sad when you can’t come
— “what do you mean you’re busy 🥺”
— homeboy is SMART im talking straight A’s type smart.
— definitely plans on going D1
— has a smalllllllll (BIG) crush on y/n but he’s too punk to tell them
kiri :
— actually mysterious
— keeps to herself
— definitely has one friend group
— science is definitely her favorite topic
— hates hates HATES school lunch. she gives it away each time
— crystal necklaces all day
— def has a job and bought those expensive ass sony headphones
— her converse game is strong. i’m talking every single color for every single outfit
— hangs in the bathroom with her friends
— along with her brothers, her teachers love her
ao’nung:
— RIZZ MASTER.
— seriously his rizz with y/n makes them fold all the time.
— basketball captain anyone??
— probably drives to school
— C average in his classes , he’s just lazy
— “y/n are you coming to my game?”
— “WHAT DO YOU MEAN NETEYAM HAS A GAME- FUCK HIM-“
— as you can see he also gets upset when you can’t come to his games
— probably has a few fights on his record
— always messing with your hair in class
— you look at him like this 😡 while he’s over there like 😈
— always leaving campus to get food (he gets you some so it’s no biggie)
— brags to neteyam that you came to his practice
— “HAHA THEY CAME TO MINE AND NOT YOURS”
— also has a big crush on y/n and it’s obvious, you just choose to play dumb
tsireya :
— class president. argue with the wall.
— Y/N’S BEST FRIENDDDDD
— her brothers wingwoman fr
— probably is in a dance club after school
— tutors people in her free time (side hustle queen)
— probably also drives to school but just rides with her brother to save gas
— probably wears outfits inspired by clueless
— hands lo’ak his water bottle after practice
— she’s such a sweetheart
— she invites a girl who was alone at a table to sit with her and her friends
y/n:
— Y2K KING/QUEEN
— no literally your style is to die for
— definitely sleeping all the time but still manages to get good grades
— your dad is apart of the pta. along with tonowari and jake. PTA DADS!!
— you probably wear lots of bracelets.
— you give them away as your way of flirting
— (neteyam and ao’nung definitely have a few of them on their wrists)
— chilling with kiri and tsireya in the bathrooms
— going home and immediately going to sleep.
— probably getting written up a few times for walking out of class
— your parents weren’t happy about this :/
bonus!
tuk:
— our girl definitely rocks the newest light up sneakers
— “my mommy got me these” *stomps foot on the playground*
— gets her teachers gifts for holidays
— has a fruit by the foot for lunch all the time
— her lunch box is definitely all sparkling
— MONKEY BARS MASTER.
— probably went to the nurse a few times cause her pride got the best of her and she fell
— definitely not the type to fake sick. she loves seeing her friends
— she’s the leader of her friend group but she’s not mean (neteyam DUPE!!)
— neytiri could send her to school with her hair one way and itll come back looking a MESS.
— at least she had fun!!
TAGLIST: @zatarias-pandora
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hanafubukki · 7 months
Note
I shall refer to myself as Chaos hype anon because I'm really into this chaos route of Lilia, Dawn Knight and MC (?) poly
Bless you cottage life anon. This AU will evolve and grow well.
also imagine how weird it must be for everyone else now that MC is back in time and see Lilia and an older man who looked like Silver kissing and treating MC so preciously.
MC later explains and now they gotta explain how the time travel happened.
Time shenanigans are weird.
(References: Fanfic, Ask 1, Ask 2, Ask 3)
Hello Chaos Hype Anonie ☺️🌺🌷
I love your name. 💞💞 Happy to have another supporter of this OT3 route 🙌🥰
This is a great point that you bring up Anonie. I was actually thinking about this. There’s two ways we can go about this and it depends on YN age as well technically.
Did they get transported and then spend years in the past and age, had a child, and two husbands and return to the past older? Or did they return to the same age they were originally transported??
I honestly feel like both route can happen but it also depends on the sleeping spell too and which route we would go from there.
If we go older YN route, they would be reunited with an older Lilia and would wake up the sleeping Knight and young Silver. Though we can make it so young Silver woke up earlier and Lilia raised him while they both waited for YN and Knight.
If we go to young YN route, about the same events as older YN can happen, but they go to NRC and can attend school with Silver. Now Silver has two parents attending NRC, he can’t catch a break. 🤣🤣 Dawny can stay at Ramshackle or Diasomnia, since he doesn’t want to be away from his family. But he won’t be attending, he’s like Silver in the sense that he’s too straightforward for NRC. Or, if we keep young Silver, Knight can watch him while YN and Lilia is off to school.
Either way, I can see Malleus and Sebek coming to Ramshackle more and them visiting Diasomnia. Malleus wants to see his beloved family again and Sebek wants to learn more about these people of the past/his family’s friends (his aunt and uncle?? This family tree is just a maze at this point 🤣🤣 oh the chaos)
Either way, YN is treated preciously and sweetly.💞💚 I can just see how the twst boys would have trouble wrapping their heads around it. Time shenanigans are weird alright 🤣🤣
But also, can you imagine how some of the first years would react?? Especially Ace and Deuce??
❤️Ace: You’re married and had a kid?!?
💙Deuce: Who are the punks that touched you!? We’ll make sure they treat you right!
🌸YN: *raises an eyebrow and looks to the side at Knight and Lilia*
❤️Ace & 💙Deuce: …
Hahaha oh I love timey wimey shenanigans 😆
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yuri-is-online · 16 days
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i’ve got this picture of Yutu being kind of artsy from your description. besides, being an outcast probably means a lot of solo hobbies from no friends. maybe a bonding method for Yutus with a father that is more artistic 👉👈
You have such a good point about being an outcast driving people towards solo hobbies σ( ̄、 ̄=) certain Yutus are more outgoing than others but that does only get you so far.  Of the ones I have written about, Floyd! and Cater! Yutu both had friend circles before coming to Twisted Wonderland, while Ace!, Azul!, and Riddle! Yutu were certifiably friendless.  Bonding between Yutu and a more artistic dad hmmmmm let's see...
notes: they/them used for Yuu, this is part of my fyuuture kid au, you can find an explanation of it here and here, or look at my masterlist for all of the posts.
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Vil! Yutu
... really likes to paint and draw, when I first wrote about him his unique magic involved temporarily bringing his paintings to life.  My brother used to dig through old fashion mags when he was teaching himself to draw and I can see Yutu doing the same.  So when he finally gets to see a not tortured version of his father and finds out he is a model on top of being an actor?  He's so eager to learn about all of it, and Vil has got to be thrilled to share.  You know between him and his own dad Vil has got to have a nice collection of vintage designer items he's willing to let Yutu have a look at.  Yutu has drawn his dad a lot, receiving a drawing someone has made for you is already beyond flattering, but when it's from a family member?  Forget the fridge, Vil is getting this framed.  I can also see him maybe commissioning Yutu because he wants to make sure he never under sells his work.  He is a member of the Schoenheit family, he is allowed, nay required to have a great deal of pride in himself.
Cater! Yutu
... likes playing guitar and he loves playing with his dad.  He's not really interested in playing with the other pop music club members, Yutu is a bit shy around his dad's friends.  When he's stressed he likes to play a few songs and sing, something I could see working for Cater too.  While I'm talking about Cater, I don't think he'd make a bunch of magicam posts about his family, just in general.  He uses magicam as a way of maintaining his false happy facade, his want to date Vil comes at least partially from his presence on magicam, some of his real self is on display there sure but a lot of it is exaggerated and fake.  When he has something real he wants to keep it away from the rest of the world, so while his followers absolutely are told he's #taken #blessed they don't know about the details of his relationship.  At least not if it's a healthy one.
Jade! Yutu
... is someone I haven't written about before but he is also very into music, just not jazz music.  Not that he hates jazz, he's just stuck in that teenage phase of refusing to admit the things his dad likes are cool, something Jade reasonably “sniffles” about but that's not to say music isn't a bonding point for them.  He also plays bass, just an electric not an upright one, and Jade enjoys listening to Yutu play.  He's very supportive and surprisingly soft in his praise for someone who just got done listening to his kid scream out a punk rock song.  As long as Yutu is willing to do some hiking with him (which he is) then he has no real problem with what his kid likes, if anything I can see Jade enjoying their differences.  Life is boring if everyone is the same.
Rook! Yutu
I've been thinking about Rook, just as a character recently and one of those things that's been stuck in my mind is that he was very shy as a child.  To keep this from becoming just general information about Rook! Yutu, unlike his father Yutu never got over his shyness, so a lot of their bonding revolves around Rook encouraging Yutu to see the beauty in himself.  He books tickets to shows, symphonies, and ballets in advance so he can make sure Yutu knows when they are going out and can prepare himself to be seen in public.  They plan their outfits together in advance, look up information about the company and what they are going to see so they can appreciate the art just that much more.  On the day of Rook makes sure to kiss Yuu goodbye,  and promises to come home safe.  But not to worry, he always has Yutu help him pick out a bouquet of flowers to bring back for you.  (Unless you're allergic to pollen in which case he'll bring home something else.)
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