Tumgik
#in fact the entire movie EVERYTHING was so fucking good
torturedtraveler · 3 days
Text
mulan: the best disney character ever made
Tumblr media
okay, i may be in a disney phase right now. but as a fellow asian, there is no way i'm going to talk about disney princesses without mentioning the best disney princess (character) disney has ever made - mulan.
originally a legendary chinese folk heroine from the northern dynasty era in chinese history. the disney adaptation of mulan is somewhat similar, only difference is that she had siblings in the original folklore, and she had to go to war because her brother was too young and her father was too old, and at the end, she revealed her identity only after returning home.
let's face it, the fact that a disney princess went to war made her stand out from the rest of the lineup. let's go over a few badass facts about her in the movie: 1. she wasn't going to give up because she did bad in training. her perseverance and determination led to her trying over and over, pulling herself up that pole that literally no other men in the army could do. she's unbending, not willing to give up without putting up a fight, and she not only proved to li shang and her peers that she's not weak, she proved to herself after all that self-doubt that she's just as capable as anyone else, more than anyone else if anything. 2. the fucking avalanche scene. the fact that she was smart enough, quick-witted enough to plot that within seconds with her enemy right in front of her, clearly using her brain for a good cause to save her entire army which consisted of about 50 people against thousands of huns. war is about tactics, and she demonstrated just that. she also ignored the pain of her wound to pull li shang up from the snow just shows her loyalty to her troops. 3. even after being thrown out of her army in the middle of the mountains full of snow, seeing the huns rising from the snow, she knew she gotta alert li shang that they were coming. despite li shang not believing her (or tried to ignore her), she tried her best to come up with ways in attempt to save her country from potentially being invaded. at that moment, she didn't care about the fact that she literally lost her dignity in front of everyone, she only cared about her country, her homeland, and that just shows how selfless she is.
4. the last scene was probably the most badass out of the entire movie. again, plotting a scheme within minutes in attempt to save the emperor, coming up with ways to get into the palace, get into the emperor's room, and revealing her identity as ping to shan yu to save li shang again. best part was, the only weapon she had in her hand was a fan, it not only symbolized her identity as a female, but also the fact that she was a female in the army. (fucking pulling the sword out of the fan was so badass i need to insert the gif here)
Tumblr media
everything about that scene was perfect. it wasn't entirely serious, some ridiculous humor was implemented there and there, but also allowed for one final demonstration of how strong mulan is, not physically, but mentally.
5. actually, this last one might be the most badass. she didn't bring honor to her family (and herself) by marrying a man, starting a family like what the society expected her to, she earned a standing ovation, a collective bow from the entire country of china and the emperor with her own hands. best part? she didn't care about the honor, she didn't care about the fact that she was offered a position in the council as a female, she only cared about her family, her father. love was what made her strong. gracefulness, bravery, loyalty, and intelligence are just a few of her qualities. not only was the character full of great qualities, her imperfections were also shown, her stubbornness and clumsiness. it felt as though she was a real human because of her merits and faults, and her character development throughout the movie never ceases to amaze me.
again, i don't want to go on forever about this, but one thing will never change - mulan will always be my favorite fictional character ever created.
my little baby is all grown up and ... and savin' china
132 notes · View notes
yioh · 8 months
Text
LEO WAS SO FUCKING GOOD MY KING VIJAY IS BACKKKKKKKKKKKKK
6 notes · View notes
giantkillerjack · 26 days
Text
Me and my wife: *hang out for 6 hours and stay up til midnight talking about our favorite things*
My wife: *leaves to shower and go to bed*
Me, 2 minutes later: *picks up phone to text her about the new movie trailer I just watched*
2 notes · View notes
un-pearable · 2 years
Text
i have zero desire to actually get into dragon ball but damn do some of their character concepts slap
#as said before all my db knowledge is secondhand and mostly from my bros excitedly showing me random arcs or movies#but hey. gohan’s whole ‘i want to find a way to power WITHOUT anger’ is REALLY GOOD#good for him. good for him. he deserves to pioneer his own way to heroism#and even!!! stop being a fighter!!! and just be an academic!!!! hell yeah!!!!!!#it’s so predictable but i love super powerful characters that choose to just chill#the fact that gohan’s special non-supersaiyan power ups not only WORK but are EVEN MORE POWERFUL#and!!! he still is happy spending his life studying. and having plans other than fighting his friends all day#i know jackshit about most of db but this guy has watched his dad spend his entire life in an unending cycle of fighting for fun and#fighting for his life. him saying you know what? fuck that. i want to live my life and get to be a dad to my kid and not have to#constantly plan for the next crisis is refreshing. i like him. i know it’s a ‘bad thing’ that he got demoted to side character and ‘just spe#ends all day studying’ and it’s VERY clearly framed as a joke and that he’s stupid for picking it.#but i think it’s a fascinating decision given EVERYTHING about db. and he’s cool#i know he was supposed to take over as the MC but tbh i like this too. he’s so much fun in dbs superhero#that’s like the one thing that he’s a major player in and i’ve watched but it sold me on him#as i said i have. zero patience to actually get into db but yeah. they got some good ideas#kaba or however you spell his name… him too.#text✨#dragon ball#please please don’t show up in the tag this is my mess of an organization system
7 notes · View notes
flavia8 · 2 years
Text
I would like to thank LHR for not having any working charging ports in terminal 5, truly the best airport in the world, no other airport can compare.
#I have been here since 10 in the morning#and I have only slept 2 hours in 2 days#bc I am awful at sleeping on flights#I was also asleep!! (which is what I wanted XD)#but then I got woken up for dinner (which I am very thankful for don't get me wrong)#it was pretty good airline ravioli in marinara sauce with a ring box of salad (about the same size and shape of an engagement ring box)#Anyway then I watched a movie while eating dinner (The Bad Guys) it was fun#and then spent the rest of the flight trying to sleep XD I did rest in that I layed motionless with my eyes closed but no sleep for me rip#Even the fact I got sleep at all js good bc Like I said unless I'm falling asleep standing up I almost never fall asleep on planes#anyway I couldn't even leave the airport bc I did not want to bother with queen funeral traffic and everything being closed#also tbh I've already been to London and done a lot of the main touristy things so eh#also may I just sat the entire airport going deathly perfectly silent for 2 minutes to honor the queen was eerie as fuck#i just have bad timing when I go to London I guess bc the last time was the royal wedding (most recent) and that was a pain and this time#it's the funeral#RIP ME#Anyway been in LHR terminal 5 since 10:00 it's 6:38 now and I've just consumed and energy drink#it's also really fucking cold? but thats a combo of the weather - the fact I ate lunch 6 hours ago-the energy dring being refrigerated#and the weather#luckily I have my second warmest coat on and it's awesome If I didn't have that I'd be fucked#time to consume some warm stuff Maybe#also none of the charging ports work at all (I have an adapter and everything) so I'm supper glad I brought my battery pack that I can use#to charge my phone that has my boarding pass on it#I have a printed one for my flight but I got it this morning/yesterday morning)
1 note · View note
slutt4lovee · 4 months
Text
friends (b.b.)
𝚗𝚊𝚟𝚒 - 𝚛𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜 - 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚛𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜 - 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader
word count: 2356
warnings: NO SMUT, just cutesy fluff, maybe just a tiny bit of angst but not really, nothing really to warn about. might be some typos and shit but at this point y'all should be expecting this from my dyslexic ass.
summary: After being friends with Bucky for years, you finally get the confession you've been dreaming of.
Tumblr media
Being Bucky's friend isn't really as great as Steve made it seem. Sure, Bucky is caring and funny and fiercely protective of the things and people that he loves. Yes, he's funny and charming and everything good in the world, but he is also arrogant and cocky and so emotionally repressed that you're not even sure he knows what feelings are anymore.
Being Bucky's friend means that you're also the Winter Soldier's best friend and that is a horrible feeling. Not because of the fact that he is the Winter Soldier but more so because the Winter Soldier has a fucking martyr complex. Despite the fact that Bucky is an amazing person who you think encompasses every good aspect of the world, he's an incredible dumbass. Not just a regular dumbass, the kind of fucking idiot that thinks everyone else, everything else is more important than him. The kind of idiotic person that thinks everyone but him is worth saving, the kind who runs head first into danger because he genuinely doesn't care if he lives or dies as long as he saves someone. Bucky is the type of imbecile that would run into a building, knowing it was rigged with explosives just to save a cat.
Bucky may be one of the best people you've ever met, but being his friend is horrible.
It's caring so intensely for someone who doesn't even care about himself. It's not being able to see or even speak to him for weeks or months because he's off on some insanely stupid mission to save the fucking world or something stupid like that. It's him constantly thinking he's some kind of invincible god and you having to remind him over and over and over that he's not. No matter how much he might look like one. It's trying to convince someone that hates his entire fucking existence that he deserves every soft, sappy thing in the world no matter how much he thinks he doesn't.
But worst of all it's being in love with a complete fucking idiot who doesn't even think he's worthy of love. You'd take all the anxiety, the panic, the dread, the crying and worry a million times over if you could just not be in love with that complete fucking dumbass. Or if you could maybe convince him that he deserves all the love in the fucking world.
You can't sleep, never can when he's gone. Some stupid romance movie you've seen about a hundred times plays on your tv—a feeble attempt to keep your mind off Bucky. To keep your mind from imagining what he's doing on his mission and all the ways it could go horribly wrong.
It doesn't really work.
It's almost impossible to keep him out of your mind. When you're not worrying about all the ways he could be killed, you're pining after him in the worst fucking way.
Just staring mindlessly at the screen daydreaming about him and the way his clothes always fit just right, just enough to give you a good view of his muscles without being too tight. And the way he looks in his stupidly attractive one armed outfits he wears on missions—which shouldn't be so fucking hot, but it is, it really fucking is. And his lips, just everything about them, their shape, their pretty pink color, the way they look so fucking soft all the god damned time. And that boyish, way too endearing, smirk of his that makes your heart feel like it's about to burst out of your chest. And his hands and the way they feel against your skin, rough calloused fingers with a touch so soft it sends chills down your spine. And—and, God you're so fucking fucked about him.
He's your best friend, really one of your only friends, and yet you can't stop thinking about him doing filthy things—that he would probably never do—to you. It's horrible and dirty and disrespectful but you just can't stop, thinking about Bucky's mouth and if it's really as soft as it looks.
You smell him before you even hear him, woody smoke, and honey, mixed with sweat. You smile softly to yourself as he drops his bag to the ground with a little grunt. Your mind moves slowly, struggling through your lack of sleep to put pieces together. You're clumsily climbing over the back of the couch the second you realize he's really there.
"Bucky," You start to say, stumbling a little at the ungraceful way you dismount from the back of the couch. "What the fuck?" You ask, waving your hands up and down in his general direction.
He's not sure if you're questioning his appearance or his presence...maybe both. You're not really sure either.
"I just got back," He mutters, words dripping with exhaustion as his arms slip lazily around your waist, making you trip over your own feet as he pulls you into his chest.
"You didn't text," You whisper, matching the soft tone of his voice as you slide your arms around his neck, resting your chin on his shoulder.
He doesn't respond right away, he pulls you closer instead, grabbing onto your shirt to keep you there as if you had any plans on letting go. He makes a soft, barely audible noise, as he hides his face in the crook of your neck. His arms are tight around your waist, holding you to him like he's scared you're just gonna disappear and the thought makes your chest ache. You tilt your head, squeezing your eyes shut as your nose presses into the top of his shoulder, your lips just barely touching the leather on his jacket. Your nose floods with his scent, and you find yourself wishing you could capture it and keep it forever. He smells like camping in the summer, like searching for bugs and plants and pretty rocks in the woods, like staring up at the sky and pointing out the prettiest ones.
He smells likehome, warm and cozy and safe.
Slowly it feels like every ounce of worry and dread is leached out of your body. He's home, he's safe, he's here in your arms and nothing else fucking matters. This is the good part, this right here, all the worrying and sleepless nights are worth it just for this feeling. This happy sort of peaceful relief you get every time he comes back safe.
"M'sorry," He mutters after a few seconds, his words muffled in the crook of your neck. "Jus' wanted to get home."
Your stomach twists at that, a giddy sort of feeling floating around in your stomach at his words. He came straight from his mission to you. Didn't stop at his place, didn't go to the compound, he came straight to you. Straight home to you.
"Took ya long enough." You whisper against his shoulder, voice light and teasing as his grip on your shirt tightens.
He doesn't say anything, but you can tell this one must've been rough on him. It's obvious from the way he's clutching your shirt like a lifeline. Holding you to his chest like he thought he'd never see you again, like he's scared to let go. You don't ask him about it, he'll talk when he's ready, but you do hold him just as tight as he holds you. Rub your hands along his back, over his shoulder, up the back of his neck, lingering the softest touches everywhere you can reach because you know it calms him down.
"S'good you came home, you were gone so long I was about to come lookin' for you." You tell him, smiling softly against his neck at the little snort he lets out.
He's quiet for a bit longer, just standing there with his arms around your waist, his hands clutching at your shirt like he's terrifiedyou're going to vanish. After a while he relinquishes your shirt and before you can even think about pulling away, not that you would, his hands are running down to the backs of your thighs.
"M'sorry," He murmurs into your neck, lifting you up and wrapping your legs around his waist like you weigh absolutely nothing. "Came as quick as I could, darlin', didn't even get to shower or anything."
"Did you eat?" You ask softly, holding onto him a little tighter as he hooks his arms back around your waist.
He shakes his head and you start to offer to cook him something while he showers but he's walking in the direction of your bedroom before you can get a single word out. He nudges your bedroom door open with the toe of his boot without saying a word and it makes you frown because Bucky is never silent around you. Talks so damn much you started to think he just liked the sound of his own voice (really he just loved the sound of yours but he's not about to admit something that sappy).
"Do you want to eat?" You ask, voice all soft and sweet in a way that makes his head spin.
He shakes his head again and without even letting go of you, he falls forward onto your bed, sandwiching you between him and your mattress. He's heavy, dense, thick muscle directly on top of you, but you don't complain. You wouldn't dare tell him that he's crushing your fucking chest because then he'd let go and you don't want that.
He settles with his head on your chest, his ear pressed up against the center of it. Listening closely to the sound of your heart like he didn't believe it was real. His hand slips a little under the hem of your shirt but stays resting on your hip as if all he wanted was just to feel your skin.
He's silent for a while, laying so still that you almost think he's fallen asleep. You don't say anything either because what could you possibly say? You could tell him about work or something but you're almost certain he doesn't want to hear that.
"Thought you were dead..." He whispers as he nuzzles his face against the center of your chest. His hands squeeze at your hips and you can't shake the feeling that he's trying to make sure you're real.
You don't really know what to say to that either. You stroke your fingers through his hair and you swear you feel your heart break a little at the pain in his voice.
"God, I thought you were fucking dead..." His voice cracks a little this time and his arms wrap around your waist tight, too tight but you don't say a thing. You're happy to just let him squeeze the life out of you if it makes him feel even a little bit better. "They...they got in my head, made me see things...and all I could think about was that I never got the chance to tell you."
"Tell me what?" You ask and you think your voice comes out a bit strained because he immediately loosens his grip.
"That I'm fucking in love with you," He forces out, voice rough with emotion as he shifts a little so that he's looking down at you.
Your heart fucking stops at his words and all you can do is just stare up at him like a complete fool. Cheeks flushing bright red and eyes wide as you stammer and choke on 16 different failed attempts at speech.
He loves you. No. He's in love with you.
"I thought you were dead and all I could think about was that you didn't know I loved you." He tells you, voice softening some as his eyes scan over your face. "All I wanted to fucking do was hold you and kiss you and just fucking touch you again and I know that's so fucking selfish of me but...fuck."
"You...love me?" Your voice comes out all meek and unsure as you look up at him. You're not even sure if your heart has started beating again because it feels like you could, very well, drop dead at any fucking second.
"Of course I do you fucking idiot." Bucky laughs and the sound is utterly heart wrenching to you. He tries to smile but it just looks so fucking sad that you want to cry.
And maybe he's right and you are a fucking idiot because you can't think of anything to say. You want to tell him you love him too but the words won't come up, they stick in the back of your throat and make you choke. All you can manage is to reach out, grab his face, and pull it down to yours in a pathetic excuse for a kiss.
He kisses you back instantly, taking control of the kiss, somehow calmer than you. His lips are soft and sweet against yours and nowhere near as clunky and uncoordinated as you but he doesn't seem to mind in the slightest. He smiles a little against your near frantic lips, one hand coming up to cradle the side of your face.
It's not your first kiss, not even close, but you're so clumsy with it that it damn near feels like it. He hums against your lips like it's the best damn kiss he's ever had, strokes his thumb over your cheek and laughs when your teeth hit his.
You think he'll pull away, you would if you were him, but he doesn't. If anything he kisses you a bit harder, trying to take control of the kiss and guide your lips to work with his and it works wonders, you practically melt into it. He makes a soft, pleased sound in the back of his throat when you finally relax and then his tongue slides over your bottom lip and you melt all over again.
You've never been the biggest fan of tongue kissing, it's always just so wet and slimy and forceful. But there's something about the way Bucky's tongue slides so so softly across your bottom lip that has you parting your lips without a second thought. And you don't fucking regret it at all.
It doesn't feel all slimy and gross like you're used to. His tongue is soft and wet and there's a faint hint of sweet mint as he kisses you. One of his hands squeezes at your waist under your shirt and he fucking groans like kissing you is the best thing he's ever experienced.
He kisses you until you're both breathless, until your lips are raw and swollen and slick with spit.
His forehead presses against yours and his voice comes out all hoarse and raspy as he says, "Fuck, I could kiss you for fucking ever,"
You laugh at that and the noise is so soft and sweet that it makes his breath hitch. You flutter your eyes open, thumbs stroking at the side of his neck as you look up at his flushed face.
"I love you too," You whisper and God, the way he smiles sends a jolt of warm heat through your body. "I didn't say it earlier, but I do. I really fucking do."
1K notes · View notes
sunniques · 28 days
Text
— 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 !
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
➺ PAIRING: choi seungcheol x female reader
➺ GENRE: stepdad au, smut
➺ SUMMARY: being a spoiled brat means you hate to share. you learn that your stepdad has the same affliction.
➺ CW/TW: stepcest, infidelity, age gap, reader can be picked up by seungcheol, jealousy, possessiveness, daddy kink, breeding kink, spanking, oral sex (m), pussy slaps, nipple play, unprotected sex, riding, squirting, creampies, overstimulation
➺ WC: 6.1k
NOTE: PLF MASTERLIST. don’t like, don’t read.
Tumblr media
Something Seungcheol learned about you early on is that you don’t like to share. It’s a quality he’s never liked on other people, but with you it’s different. Instead of hating that part of you, he enabled it. In fact, he enabled it so much that you always get so jealous whenever he spends any time with your mom. It doesn’t matter if it’s an insignificant amount of time, you aways let him know how much you hate it.
Honestly, he thinks it’s really fucking cute. Especially because you don’t ever try to hide your possessiveness.
You’re a spoiled brat, which means you have a habit of taking things you want regardless of the timing and circumstances. That’s why Seungcheol isn’t all that surprised when you throw yourself on him on a random afternoon even though your mom is home.
The three of you had been watching a movie like a regular family when his wife gets a call from her boss that interrupts everything. She doesn’t hesitate to get up and go to the kitchen, all too happy that work was cutting into her family time. Not that you cared. This was the sort of thing you had been hoping for.
Your mom was gone for all of two minutes when you decide to stick your hand down your stepdad’s sweats. Seungcheol holds back a groan when you eagerly start to rub his bare cock. He’s been going commando lately because he knows that you’re always ready to get your hands on his dick.
“Princess.” Seungcheol hisses, words slightly scolding. “Behave. Your mom will be back any minute.”
You know he doesn’t really care. Otherwise he would’ve actually tried to stop you from pulling his cock out of his pants. Seungcheol’s dick throbs in your hand when you give him a devious smirk. His fat tip is already oozing with precum, and you smear it up and down his throbbing organ, slowly stroking his cock just the way he likes it. He tosses his head back on the couch with a quiet groan, unable to hide how much he enjoys your touch.
“I just want to make you feel good, daddy.”
In reality, you want to show him how much better you are than your mom. The other night you heard moans coming from the master bedroom, and you had felt bitter and jealous ever since. These jealousy driven actions were only the start of a long game of teasing and revenge you had planned for your dear stepdad.
“Want you to fuck me, daddy.” You quietly moan in his ear. “I need that big cock inside me. Want you to stretch me open and stuff me full of your cum until I can’t think.”
His eyes are entirely dark as he sets them on you. Based on the heated look alone, you know he wants the exact same thing. So with a sly smirk, you lean down to take his thick cock into your mouth.
Seungcheol’s mouth drops open in pleasure when he feels your hot mouth bobbing up and down his dick. You’re eager in your movements, moaning and gagging on his cock like it’s your favorite lollipop.
“Honey!” His wife’s voice doesn’t deter you. If anything, you take him deeper into your throat. “I won’t be able to watch the rest of the movie with you and Y/N. I have to hop on an emergency conference call. I’ll be upstairs!”
Seungcheol turns his head slightly, hoping your mom doesn’t notice the sudden color he’s gotten in his cheeks. “How long will you be?”
His wife doesn’t bother looking up from her phone as she goes towards the stairs. “Maybe an hour or two. Don’t know. You guys have fun.”
She’s so oblivious that she doesn’t realize you’re no where to be seen. You smirk around Seungcheol’s cock, pussy throbbing at the fact that you’re sucking your stepdad’s cock while your mom is right there.
Seungcheol knows he’s a sick pervert. His wife is upstairs working while he’s downstairs, undressing her cute little daughter. He can’t really care though. Not when he has you sinking down on his cock. The thrilling salaciousness of it all only turns him on.
You’ve been riding him within an inch of his life for a good fifteen minutes, and it’s only now that you’re starting to get close. How you two have managed to be somewhat quiet is beyond him.
“D-Daddy, fuck.” You whine, slumping forward on his strong chest. “Feels so good. I’m gonna cum.”
“I know, princess. You’re making daddy feel good too.” He says as he bucks his hips up so his cock grinds against your g-spot until you’re squealing and bouncing on his lap all over again.
He loves the noises you make for him. It drives the urge to get you to cream on his dick. “You’ve been torturing me, baby. Keeping me from this juicy cunt.”
“I was j-jealous.” You manage to slur out, hips grinding into his. “Hate when you’re with my mom. Don’t want you fucking her too.”
Seungcheol laughs meanly. His hands smooth down your sweaty back before they settle on your hips. “My little brat was jealous?” He coos, cock throbbing in delight. “Mad at daddy for helping out your poor mom? I couldn’t leave her hanging, baby. She’s almost as needy as you are.”
You’ll make him regret his words, but for now all you can do is moan and leave scratches down his chest to mark him as yours. “I don’t want to share.”
“Maybe one last time.” Your stepdad goads, loving the petulant little frown you give him.
“No!” You whine loudly, hips swiveling roughly. “You’re mine, daddy. Only mine.”
Seungcheol laughs again, abs flexing as he thrusts up into your dripping pussy. Your cunt flutters and clings to his fat cock in delight. Loud squelching and the aroma of sex permeates the living room as he fucks you deep and hard. You’re close to cumming, and your stepdad knows it.
“I am yours.” Seungcheol agrees as he starts to plant wet, open mouthed kisses on your neck. “Daddy’s cock is all yours. I just like riling you up, princess. You get so tight around me.”
“Daddy!” You mewl, satisfied that he was placating you like always. “I’m gonna cum!”
“That’s it, baby.” Seungcheol hisses, hands grabbing the fat of your ass to help you fuck your cunt down on his dick. “Cream on my cock with your tight little pussy. Fuck. You have the best hole I’ve ever fucked.”
Your stepdad has to kiss you to muffle you loud moans as you tremble and cum all over his cock. Seungcheol groans into your mouth, squeezing your ass as you move your hips faster and faster. Your gummy walls are suffocating his cock, and he can’t get enough of it. The sound of his wet balls slapping against your ass fills the room, and he briefly wonders if you two are being too loud.
“Fuck!” You moan as your eyes roll to the back of your head.
“Keep your voice down.” Seungcheol chastises as he slaps your ass, fucking his cock up into you rougher than before. “Don’t want your mom to hear us, do you, baby?
You wrap your arms around his neck and start jumping on his cock with newfound vigor. That’s the last thing on your mind, and you know it’s the same for him.
“I don’t give a fuck if she hears us.” You choke out through a filthy moan. “S-Shit. I want her to hear how good her husband fucks me.”
His thick cock throbs at your words nasty words. Seungcheol’s eyes are dark as a deep growl vibrates in his chest. He hooks his arms under your thighs and abruptly stands. You cry out as his cock slides deeper into you. His heavy balls slam into your ass as he starts to harshly thrust into you. Your stepdad’s hands go to your ass as he fucks you on his cock faster than before.
“This is what my cockhungry little brat wanted, huh?” Seungcheol grunts, as you leave a white stream of cream on the length of his cock. “Wanted me to fuck you hice and hard like a filthy whore. Don’t even care that your mom can come down any second and see how addicted you are to your stepdad’s cock.”
“Yes, daddy, yes!” You cry out wantonly as his leaking tip slams against your sweet spot. “Fuck me like the nasty slut that I am! Fuck. Want your wife to see how hard you get for me. How much better you like this tight little pussy!”
Seungcheol keeps bouncing you on his cock over and over until lewd squelching and the sound of skin slapping together is all that can be heard in the living room. At this point, neither of you care that your mom can come downstairs at any time and catch you. In fact, that risky fact is what’s turning the both of you on so much. The fact that she could walk in on Seungcheol bouncing you on his cock is driving you both closer to the edge.
“My bratty little girl just can’t get enough of this cock, hm?” Seungcheol’s deep voice is low in your ear. “So fucking desperate for daddy to fuck you full of cum, aren’t you, princess?"”
“Want it so bad, daddy.” You mewl out, your second orgasm abruptly hitting and wetting his cock even more. “Want your cum now!”
So demanding, as always. But Seungcheol loves it. He fucks his cock into you until he reaches his own climax. He groans your name as he shoots his hot load into your young, fertile pussy. The very thought of you getting pregnant only has him driving his cock deeper into you, eager to breed you.
You force your tongue into your stepdad’s mouth, moaning and whining at the overstimulation you're starting to feel. Seungcheol sits you two down, not willing to get you off his cock just yet. Apparently, you feel the same way because as soon as he leans back on the couch you start bouncing on him again.
“Goddamn, baby.”
Seungcheol can’t get over how good you feel around him, how pretty you look as your face contorts in pleasure. His fingernails dig into the flesh of your ass as you keep moving on his cock. Fuck, he really loves the way your cunt wraps around him and how you squeeze around him when his fingers begin to toy with your clit. Drunk on lust and hot sex, words spill from his mouth before he can stop them.
“Fucking shit. Need to put a baby in you.”
You’ve known about his breeding kink since the first time he fucked you, but it still drives you wild each time he growls it out so ravenously. His hips start to move, slowly taking control with a primal need to fuck you full of cum. Seungcheol’s mouth wraps around one of your hard nipples as his thrusts grow needier and rougher.
God, your pretty tits have been tempting him with the way they’ve been bouncing in his face. Your stepdad sucks and licks eagerly, his tongue flicking over the bud. He’s driving you insane, hitting every right spot expertly.
Seungcheol’s mouth pops off your nipple lewdly. “Such pretty fucking tits. Want to see them swollen and full of milk.”
His nasty words have your pussy clamping down on him until he’s groaning and growling into your neck. “Cum inside me, daddy. Fu-Fuck. Fill me with your cum and knock me up!”
That’s exactly what he does. Your stepdad keeps fucking you on the couch until it’s stained with your mixed releases. Neither of you feel guilty about it either, and as he follows you to your room, you can’t help but feel smug that he’s going to keep fucking you even while his wife is in the other room working.
Tumblr media
Being petty is something you and Seungcheol have in common. However, he never thought you’d be petty enough to flaunt your new boy toy in front of him. You do it so seamlessly that anyone might think you actually don’t know what you’re doing or how it makes him feel. It’s maddening because he can tell how much you’re enjoying pissing him off.
You bring the boy over a handful of times, always so affectionate with him when you do. Your mom seems to like him, but he can’t even pretend to. Especially not when he hears you sneak him in when you think they’re both asleep. He fucking hates it, and it’s not until the night of his anniversary that he finally gets to do something about it.
His wife has gone off to another business trip in spite of knowing that their anniversary would fall around the same time. That’s part of the reason he doesn’t feel sorry that he breaks his promise to her. Instead of flying out to meet his wife to celebrate their anniversary like he promised her weeks ago, he’s in bed with her daughter.
Seungcheol knows he’s an asshole. Not only for leaving his wife alone on such a special day, but for not letting her know he wasn’t coming until after she got all dolled up to meet him at a fancy restaurant. He doesn’t care, though. At all. Not when he has his stepdaughter’s hot little cunt wrapped around his cock. It makes it easy to ignore the incessant buzzing coming from his phone.
“Does that stupid boy fuck you this good?”
By this point, you’re too fucked out to answer—too full of cock, to be exact. Your pretty cunt is stuffed so snugly around his dick that he can feel every pull of your soft walls. Seungcheol is entranced with the way your puffy lips part for him. How they drag along his length and coat his thick cock with your sweet cream.
Your stepdad loves seeing you like this. The sight of you on your back with your nipples swollen, all puffy and glistening with remnants of spit is enough to drive him crazy. Your legs are bent back and your lashes are wet with tears. It’s the prettiest fucking thing he’s ever seen.
Seungcheol growls a bit when you don’t immediately answer. He grabs your hips and roughly pulls you to meet his movements. His harsh, deep thrusts make your body bounce and the sheets wrinkle around you. “Answer me, brat.”
“N-No, daddy.” You mewl out as he literally fucks the cum from his previous orgasm out of you.
“Of course he doesn’t.” Seungcheol’s voice is rough and mean as he snaps his hips harder. “Only I can fuck you this good. That’s why you’re always so needy for my cock.”
You nod dumbly, so lost in pleasure in the way he’s stretching you out. “Only want your cock, daddy. Fucking love it!”
“I know you do, princess.” He groans, snapping his hips against the plush flesh of your thighs.
Seungcheol’s lustful gaze is glued to where you’re sucking him in. His muscles tighten as he fucks you deeper until you’re crying out for him all over again. He usually doesn’t fuck you so brutally, but he’s overwhelmed by the need to claim you and show you exactly who you belong to that his inhibitions quickly dissipate.
Jealousy starts to simmer in his chest as he thinks about anyone else fucking you and getting to see you all vulnerable and wet. Particularly, he thinks about the pathetic kid you were flaunting in his face. Seungcheol knows he’s better than him. He can get you to cum harder than some inexperienced boy.
“Tell me you’re my good girl. I want to hear you say it. Tell me that you love me and only me.”
You obey, moaning the words to him as your cunt tightens on his fat cock.
“God, I fucking love you.” His large hands tighten on your hips as he abruptly slows his pace so he doesn’t cum again.
Seungcheol slows his thrusts into gentle grinds so he can savor the feeling of your wet pussy. He leans over your body, squishing your tits against his broad chest as he begins to suck on your neck.
“Fuck. Can’t get enough of your sweet little cunt. Need it wrapped around me all the time.” He tells you between sloppy kisses. “You’d like that wouldn’t you, princess? Always staying by my side so you can have this cock whenever you want.”
Your stepdad’s pace picks up again, and you cry out in pleasure. His leaking cock is reaching so deep inside you that you can barely think. Luckily, you manage to reply in time.
“Fuck yeah.” You moan wantonly as your stomach tightens at a partially harsh thrust of his cock. “Want to be your cockslut all the time.”
Seungcheol groans loudly, biting down on your flesh to mark you. Your stepdad’s strong hands push your thighs further apart to fuck you deeper. You mewl for him as he keeps pushing into your depths. Your juices are making a mess, dampening his abdomen and thighs, making every plunge of his cock sound more lewd than the last.
“Such a dirty little brat.” Seungcheol moans, pounding into you with ravenous desire. “Fuck. That stupid kid doesn’t know what a needy little slut you are for your stepdad’s cock. Doesn’t know that this tight pussy belongs to me.”
You nod along to his words, filthy moans mixing in with the sound of his heavy balls slapping against your skin. “It’s all yours, daddy. Only yours.”
“Damn fucking right. It’s fucking mine. You’re my girl.”
Seungcheol’s fingers squeeze into the fat of your thighs as he smashes his mouth against yours. Your stepdad is greedy and sloppy with his movents, drinking up your moans like he’s starved for them. When he pulls his messy mouth from yours, he sees the lust in your eyes. It’s dark and wild.
“He doesn’t fuck me like you do.”
Seungcheol can’t hide his smirk. He groans, pushing your legs to the apex of your flexibility so the head of his cock can push against that sensitive, spongy spot deep inside you. “Of course he can’t, baby. No one will ever be able to fuck you like I do.”
He proves his point by moving in a nearly inhuman pace, cock burying into you so viciously it makes you scream. Nails dig into the rolling muscles of his back, his skin changing color as you drag your nails down his spine. Seungcheol is amazed at how well you can take his roughness. It’s like your pussy is happy to absorb all of his savage-like jealousy.
“God, daddy. Gonna—Gonna...”
“Gonna what, princess?” Seungcheol coos with a mean smirk.
Your cunt sucks him in tighter, the prominent veins of his cock brushing against your walls deliciously. It’s like your head is swimming, and you can barely speak. Again, you manage to because it’s what your daddy wants.
“C-cum! So close, daddy! Ah, ah, ah!” Your head falls to the side as you continue to whine, stomach tightening and spasming as your stepdad barrels into you.
It’s highly likely that he’ll leave bruises on your skin from how hard his hands are wrapped around you. From the rough way he’s been with you, there’s no doubt that your cunt will throb with the memory of him for days.
“Again?” Seungcheol hums, satisfied. “Dirty little brat. Love creaming on your stepdaddy’s cock, huh?”
You nod your pretty little head against the pillow, eyes falling shut as you get lost in the pleasure he’s giving you. Seungcheol goes harder, growling at you to keep your eyes open and on him. He’s sort of crazy, and he knows there’s no way you could be thinking about that kid, but he needs to know there’s no possibility of that.
“Cum for me, princess.” It’s more of a command, and you can’t not obey.
You let out a high-pitched cry when an overwhelming orgasm consumes you. Seungcheol keeps fucking you even when he feels the first milking compression of your cunt. He has to grit his teeth and will himself not to heed the call of his own orgasm. He just wants to feel you, wants to watch you lose your fucking mind over his cock.
And you do. Liquid spurts from your pussy as your stomach clenches and unclenches rhythmically to match the trembling of your thighs. Slick gushes from your cunt and gathers around the base of his cock. Your face is hot as your lips part in a loud moan. Seungcheol moans along with you as your back arches into him. He can literally see you fall into the abyss of pleasure he threw you into.
“That’s it, princess.” He coos, unable to hold back his own orgasm at this point. Hot ropes of his cum shoot into you, painting every inch of your walls. “What a good girl—such a good fucking girl. Oh, baby...”
The last bit of his words are spoken sweetly. Your stepdad smooths his hands down your shaking thighs before he gently lets them go. They fall to the bed as he brings one of his hands to caress your soft cheek and the other to rub soothing circles on your sensitive clit. Seungcheol keeps fucking his cum deeper into you, the aftershocks of your orgasm hum against his cock and trickle down his spine.
“Goddamn. You always milk daddy’s cock like a cockhungry slut.” He licks his lips as another gush of slick pours out of you. “Shit, baby. You like it that much?”
Seungcheol is gently rocking into you, murmuring sweet things against your cheek. You’re panting gently as he fucks you through the remainder of your orgasm. His hips slowly come to a stop, and you can tell he’s trying to regain his own senses. Now that you’re slowly coming down from your high, you think that this is a perfect time to goad him like he did to you.
“You’re too tired to go again?” You hum, feigning disappointment. “I know he wouldn’t be. If this is how you planned to prove to me that your dick is the only one I should be taking, then...”
Seungcheol’s gaze darkens in half a second. He’s aware of what you’re doing, but jealousy will cloud reason every time. You just squirted all over him, and yet the naughty little smirk you’re wearing is enough to let him know you’re not satiated at all. Good, because he isn’t either.
“I’m not done with you, brat.”
His cock is throbbing inside you, aching to be pushed in deeper, but controls himself—for now. Seungcheol plans to let you come down from your high completely just so he can give you another. He’s going to let you keep breaking over and over again until you’re spent and smothered in his cum.
Smoothly, your stepdad sits back and pulls you into his lap. He keeps you lodged on his cock all while pressing tender kisses against your shoulder. You whine out in pleasure as he licks and suck on one of your sensitive nipples until you finally come to your senses.
“Fuck. You’re so strong, daddy.” You say while caressing his broad shoulders, fingertips smoothing over the well-crafted muscle.
“Of course.” He says, ego inflating. “Don’t forget that your stepdad is a real man. Not like that boy you’ve been fucking.”
You can’t think to respond because Seungcheol sinks you further on his lap, forcing you take in his cock deeper until his balls are flush against your ass. He cups your ass cheeks in each palm, lifting you up and down his cock way too easily. Your head falls into the crook of his neck as he starts to use you like his personal fucktoy. With a loud moan, you slide your hot tongue up the length of his neck, making him groan. You moan and pant into his skin as he warms up your pussy for another round.
“Don’t you forget that, sweetheart.” Seungcheol’s voice is low and possessive as his arm coils around your back. He buries his nose into your shoulder and lets his hips do the work to keep you bouncing on his cock. “No one can do it like your stepdad. I know everything you like—know how to fuck you right.”
“Oh yeah?” You hum as your cunt squeezes around him. Your hands tangle in his hair, lips pressing needy kisses to his lips. “Then prove it. Fuck me good and hard until I break.”
Your stepfather growls at the thought. Since you’re such a spoiled little brat, he’s going to give you exactly what you want.
Seungcheol lifts you off of his cock, hissing at how much his dick aches without your pussy around him. He quickly flips you onto your stomach and pulls you onto your knees with ease. He’s drunk on lust as he slaps his cockhead against your slippery folds, lining himself up against your needy hole once again.
“Fuck, Y/N.” Seungcheol groans deeply as he slides his leaking tip up and down your dripping slit. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”
You turn your head to the side, cheek resting against the sheets as you catch his eyes. They’re full of scorching lust, and something that looks a lot like a teasing dare. “Don’t act like you don’t want to. We both know you’re a sick perv who wants to fuck his stepdaughter like she’s nothing more than a dirty slut.” Your smirk is tempting. “I can handle whatever you give me, daddy. Promise.”
That’s enough to crack his resolve. Seungcheol is consumed by an overwhelming need to show you how good he can ruin you. And he is. He’s going to show you that he can fuck you like no other man can.
You yelp in pleasure when his large hand comes down on your ass. His cock jumps at your response. The way your knees spread wider as your tight hole clenches right before his eyes is turning him on wildly. A fresh stream of arousal drips down your thighs, letting him know you feel the same way.
“Oh, you just fucking wait, princess.” Seungcheol growls, completely gone. “Daddy’s gonna make a fucking mess out of you.”
He repeats the motion, harder this time. A resounding smack echoes in the room followed by your high-pitched cries that make his cock leak and throb. Your plump ass cheeks are aching, but in the best way. Seungcheol can feel the smarting below his palm, but you’re shaking your ass at him to let him know you want more. That you need him to use you in the way he’s always wanted.
“Naughty little brat. Making daddy jealous on purpose.” He spits venomously, spanking you a few times in a row, groaning at how your flesh jiggles against his palms.
“Fu–Fuck!” Your voice turns into a whine as you bury your face into the sheets.
“You know I don’t fucking share.” Seungcheol thrusts forward, the hard ridge of his cock sliding between the gooey mess of your folds. “Just had to rile me up like the spoiled little slut you are.”
“S-Shit, daddy! Like it—Mmmh!—Fuck, ah!”
Seungcheol gives you another harsh smack, letting his hand rest on your ass this time so he can smooth his palm over the raw skin. The laugh he lets out is mean and condescending. “Of course you do. You like everything daddy gives you because you’re a nasty little whore.”
“Want more.” You arch your back, inviting him in. “Want you inside me!”
Seungcheol’s grin is wolfish as he takes your hips in his hands. His thumbs caress the tender flesh as he presses the head of his cock back inside your cunt. “Such a needy brat.”
Your stepdad’s moan mixes in with yours as he sinks inside of you. His movements are slow and purposeful, taking his time to feel every inch of your gummy walls as you stretch open around his dick. When he bottoms out, balls flush against your swollen clit, he closes his eyes to savor the feeling of your clamping down on him. He’s going to ruin you, make it so no boy can ever compete with him.
You cry out loudly when he starts to ram his cock into your hot cunt, his pace brutal and unforgiving. His hips smash against yours as his cockhead bruises into your most intimate, tender spot.
“Daddy!” You whine out between plunges of his cock. “Fu-Fuck! You’re so d-deep!”
Seungcheol groans when your velvety walls tighten around him. “Dirty little brat. You like daddy using you like a little cocksleave, huh?”
All you can do is nod, body bouncing with his hard, powerful thrusts. Seungcheol smirks when he realizes that you’ve become putty in his hands. His large hands spread your cheeks apart so he can watch how your cunt wraps around him with every thrust. It’s a mesmerizing sight. The way your pretty pussy is being molded by the prominent veins on his dick, thick cream building at his base and sticking to his skin.
Your pussy throbs every time his balls smack into your clit, sending pleasure racing up the slope of your back. Seungcheol feels an intense amount of ecstasy coiling in his stomach that fogs his thoughts. He gives you one last cruel smack to your ass, the loud noise echoing in his ears.
“That’s it, baby. Take daddy’s cock like the good little slut you are.” Seungcheol’s groan is guttural as he pounds into you roughly. His thrusts are brutish and fast, leaking cockhead slamming against your cervix each time he pushes in.
“Isn’t it so much better when daddy fucks you?” Seungcheol coos, loving how you’re beginning to go dumb on his cock.
His smirk is triumphant and filthy when you nod your head. You moan for him, weakly meeting his rough thrusts to get his cock deeper inside you. “That’s right, princess. I never wanna see you with any other man ever again. You understand?”
“Yes, daddy!” You moan, loving how possessive and assertive he sounds.
Your creaminess soaks his fat cock and your inner thighs. The brutal pace of his cock pushes your arousal out. It drips down to your pussy where his balls continuously slap against the soft skin.
“Good girl—my good little brat.”
Seungcheol’s sweet praise has you clenching around his dick. Your stepdad lets out a deep groan before chuckling softly. “So fucking tight. Pretty pussy can’t get enough of my cock.”
You moan loudly, deepening your arch. “Fuck, daddy. Love it when you stretch me open on your cock!”
“Yeah? Then why’d you let that boy fuck you? Tell me.” Seungcheol demands, punctuating each word with a hard thrust.
You cry out each time, the pleasure blooming into that a familiar feeling of ecstasy. All you can do is babble unintelligently. Seungcheol grunts deeply—an additive to the wet, forceful sounds of sex. Your cunt throbs with every push of his cock, wet and worn as he seeks absolution inside of you. All he can focus on is your warm cunt as he fucks into you like a beast.
“Wanted to ma-make you j-jealous.” You finally whine out.
Seungcheol finds your confession adorable, but it makes his cock throb and his blood boil all at the same time. Now, your stepdad’s mind is solely focused on stuffing you full with his cum until you break. The only measure of time is the tempo of his cock plunging into you. By now he’s lost control, primitive instincts blooming in his balls and begging to burst.
“Naughty little brat. I’m gonna show you that no one can make you cum like I can.” Seungcheol laughs meanly. His addiction to feeling you orgasm on his cock makes him sound deranged. “Shit. I want you to milk me—take all the cum from these balls.”
You cry out when he slides a hand under you, fingers immediately rubbing your throbbing clit. “Oh fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck! It’s too much, daddy!”
It’s so hard to think straight when his thick cock is pummeling into you relentlessly. You’re on the brink of your third orgasm already that it seems like they’ve all bled together.
“You’re gonna take what daddy gives you, baby. Take it all like a good little fucktoy.” Seungcheol groans when your pussy constricts around him again. “Fuck. Never letting you go after this. You’re all mine.”
Your moans are filthy and loud, loving how he’s claiming you and your cunt. He can tell how much you like it because he can feel your puffy bud drip against his fingers. Seungcheol keeps swirling his fingers in your wet mess. He’s rubbing fast circles on your swollen clit until your body is thrashing and your screams echo through the room.
“Daddy! Fuck, I’m gonna—ah!”
The suck of your cunt is euphoric, all pulsing and hot. Seungcheol groans in delight as you cover him with your release. “Yeah, that’s it, princess. Soak daddy’s cock.”
Your stepdad continues his assault on your little hole despite the sudden tightness. He loves that you continue to gush around his cock, leaving a stain of your sweet cream around the base. You’re stretched out more than you ever thought was possible, but it feels so damn good.
“I’m gonna have to stuff this pussy full every day.” His promise is growled filthily, enjoying how your cunt spasms around his thick cock. “Otherwise you’re gonna go around begging someone else to do it.”
Somehow, his thrusts grow more powerful. You wail every time he drives in and out of you, quickly reaching another climax. This one is much different, though. It's more intense and nearly knocks the air out of you. You soak your stepdad’s cock even more now, leaving it dripping and ruining his sheets. He groans loudly, watching as you squirt all over his cock. Your eyes squeeze shut once dark spots take over your vision. Each time Seungcheol strokes your g-spot, another gush of liquid spurts from your core.
“God, you’re fucking hot, baby. Making a mess all over daddy’s cock.” Seungcheol, moans in delight, hand trading the soft rubs for harsh smacks.
The hits have you jolting, cries and moans of pleasure filling the room. Squelching sounds fill the room along with the heady smell of sex. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull as your pussy flutters around the thick cock splitting you open.
“That’s it, baby. Your pretty little pussy was made to take my cock.” Your stepdad is so far gone, feeling his own climax approaching.
His balls are heavy, and they’re aching to be emptied. Seungcheol feels his cock twitch and throb inside your warm, wet hole. Your pussy is practically begging him to fill you up with his seed, and he does exactly that. With one final shove, he bottoms out inside you and stills. The world stops like he does, a roar of your name deep from within his chest piercing the thick air of the room as he comes undone.
Seungcheol’s cum pours into you, coating your walls and taking up the space his cock hasn’t covered. Thick ropes of cum paint your pretty pussy white. His fat cock twitches and throbs, and almost feels like it’s growing inside of you. Of course, his cock is still unforgiving, now grinding into your core as pearls of his cum gush from the tight sleeve of your cunt around him.
You whimper and mewl into the sheets, loving at the feeling of being so fucking full. There’s nothing more satisfying than the feeling of his hot cum spilling out of your pussy and dripping down your thighs.
Seungcheol reluctantly pulls out of you, mesmerized with the sight of your orgasm and his cum leaking out of your tight little hole. You’ve made a mess on your mom’s favorite sheets, but he’s never liked them better than he does now.
Tender hands smooth over your ass and your trembling thighs before you’re carefully rolled onto your back. Soft lips cover yours, swallowing your needy mewls and tasting you greedily. Seungcheol presses soft pecks to your lips as one of his hands slowly caresses your spent body.
“Love you, my possessive little brat.”
You hum against his lips with a triumphant smirk, satisfied that he feels just as possessive over you.
849 notes · View notes
irndad · 1 year
Text
in every other life- s.r.
a/n: my soul is in this mf fic. there's a lil sexual tension lol! this is a behemoth of pining. so much fucking pining. this guy needs you like air wtf!! ALSO the poem is from a book, the lover's dictionary by david levithan. summary: the love of spencer's life is also his best friend, and she goes on a few dates. he does not handle it well, internally. ft. metaphysics by our dear genius boy. wc: 3.3k (holy shit)
Tumblr media
While he recognizes that no direct injustice has actually been done to him, he can’t help but feel that it’s so unfair. 
Because Spencer had never actually wanted much of anyone, actually. He was too much of a child through his entire education, and he’d found anyone that he’d even consider had almost instantly had dismissed him. He’d grown used to a life where companionship wasn’t a desire that crossed his mind. 
But he wanted her. 
His lovely friend, his coworker, who was the kind of lovely that it feels unfair you’d ever have to take your eyes off of. She’s the best person he’s ever met, the sort of wonderful you read about but never convince yourself you’ll ever see. He knows the shape of her, has her form memorized from watching, waiting for her to step into the office every day.  
It was only a matter of time until he wasn’t the only one with his eye on her. 
She’s actually absurdly easy to want. There’s nights where they watch something, often what he picked, Doctor Who or some other science fiction which would be great if he could focus on anything but her. Her warm disposition ruminating his too-small apartment with a kind of light that follows his every movement. He’d adore her even if she wasn’t, but it’s impossible to ignore how beautiful she is- the kind of pretty that you hardly expect to see in real life. 
“Hey you,” her so-sweet voice is what breaks him out of his daydreaming, and he looks up at her lovely face smiling down at him. Fondness seeps through her tone, and it’s everything he can do not to preen that her first thought at seeing him is one of pleasure. 
“Hey back,” he says, greeting her with a warm grin of his own. “How was your weekend?”
It’s a calculated question. 
She had canceled their weekly movie night. He’d tried not to look too disappointed, like the idea of her next to him on his couch, of her nimble fingers raking through his unkempt hair while something nice, but far less wonderful than his company played in the background wasn’t all that was keeping him going. These days, and he knows it’s likely delusion, that she sometimes seems to gaze back at him with a similar sort of desperation, hooded eyes and tenderness. 
It’s a liminal space, those nights. How can people be two things at once? You cannot be both in love and not. In the low-light of his place, under his blanket- it’s like Schrodinger’s experiment. She can’t love him like a friend and more at the same time- it resists the laws of physics. She is his best friend, a fact he knows as sure as gravity and the elements, and believing anymore than that- it’s asserting an impossibility. 
When they’re alone together, though. It seems like the impossible exists. 
But she’d canceled it, something she hadn’t done for the months they’d been engaging in their little tradition. So there had to be a reason. She sits next to him, her desk next to his. 
She looks a little disheveled, only in an adorable way- but a little like she’s been busy, like her flow is disrupted.
“It was good! I finally went out with that guy Penelope’s been begging me to let her set me up with.”
It’s all that he can do not to freeze up. 
Penelope has been trying to get her to go out with her friend Ben, which Spencer thinks is a stupid name, by the way, and secretly he’d been so, so pleased when she had brushed off the invite. It’s a dangerous thing, hope. He tries not to have too much of it, tries to savor the thought of her, of more for moments of particular vulnerability. It’s treacherous, to want her the way he does. He knows he can’t let himself feel it all the way. 
And logistically- romance is not a reason for a valid reason for him to be panicking the way he is, but all he can think about is the physics. Two opposite things cannot be true at the same time. 
“You know, studies suggest that even now, the majority of couples are meeting in person or through friends over any other medium.” 
It hurts to say. She’s part of a couple, one half a whole that he doesn’t complete. 
“Seriously? I’d have thought it’d changed by now. I guess it’s safer to date someone you know.”
She’d date someone she knew? Is that what she prefers? 
“How did it go?” He hears Emily ask, and this conversation is already the bane of his existence.
“Guys, it really wasn’t a big deal! We got dinner, it was just a little thing.”
Spencer isn’t experienced in dating, but he does know that dinner is a serious date. Coffee is a smaller thing, but dinner-
Dinner means she got pretty for him. Probably picked out a dress for the evening, spent time on a carefully manicured look. Spent hours of her precious, rare, time on him. 
It’s not fair how much he fucking hates this guy. 
“Dinner is not nothing!” Penelope squeals, and he would love to share in her excitement, except it kind of feels like a piece of his heart is being shredded. 
“Dinner means coming up to my place, have coffee, oh look who doesn’t have her hair done-“
Please kill me, he thinks. Please. 
“Oh, that definitely did not happen.”
Thank god. 
Except he can’t miss her flush, how her expression shifts- and he has the sickening feeling he’d be hearing that guy’s name again. 
When they all settle around the table, her doe eyes focused on gruesome images that were the exact antithesis of her spirit, he couldn’t help but feel that even if it hurt, there was finality. 
The cat was out of the box. Two things cannot be true at once, and so only one is- she does not love him, at least not the way he does. 
Tumblr media
Ben, is not in fact, going away. 
If he had more willpower or self-preservation, Spencer would keep his distance from her, but the truth of it is that as much as he wants to be the person she turns to, her smile is most of why he can stand his job anymore. 
It’s a Tuesday, and everyone is grumbling about being pulled in early in the morning, but he’s just happy to have a reason to leave the house.
“Spence!” He hears her excited voice carry, the pretty sound picking his ears up at once. “I got you coffee. It’s hazelnut, and it’s like, 90% sugar. You’re gonna love it.”
She beams at him, and he takes it in his hands. Their hands brush, and he tries so hard not to notice how soft her hands are. Her name is on the cup, and an unconsenting fantasy of her name meaning that he’s hers creeps into his mind before he can bat it away.  
But her cup says Ben. 
“Thanks,” he says her name, tries to sound measured and friendly. “Coffee date?”
She preens, and god, if this guy doesn’t get how lucky he is it might be thing thing that actually sends him over the edge after all these years.
“Just a quick thing, we were just in the same place and he bought me a coffee, I’d already gotten yours.”
If there’s two roles he can fill and he doesn’t get to pick, if he’s stuck with friends, he’s gonna be great at it, and he’s gonna be grateful. Because knowing her is a grace in itself, the kind of thing you should could yourself so lucky to have. 
“He sounds like a great guy,” he hears himself say, “I’m glad you’re doing this.”
It’s the right thing to say. He’s sure of it. The thing he’s not sure of is why the smile she offers him doesn’t reach her eyes. 
Tumblr media
The next time he notices the cracks in their relationship, it’s when they’re out. She’d suggested this bookstore-cafe kind of thing, and he’d jumped at the thought, all of his favorite things in one afternoon. He’d felt foolish spending so much time picking out his outfit out, wearing the blazer she’d once complimented-he’d actually stuttered so hard in thanks that Morgan laughed for a full minute when she left the room- but she always looked beautiful, and he knows he sometimes pales in comparison. 
“Oh, I love this one!” She thumbs over the spine of a thin book of poetry. She’s wearing a forest green sweater that hugs her frame, and a bracelet hangs on her delicate wrist. He loves looking at her, though he tries to conceal it. His goal of being a supportive friend includes trying not to make it that known how gone for her he is. 
“I don’t read too much poetry,” he admits, “But I’m sure you have excellent taste.” 
Her keen eyes skim through the pages intently, clearly seeking out a specific passage before stopping, gaze alight with recognition. 
Her tone is molasses-sweet when she begins reading, and his heart skips a beat.
“When I say be my lover,” her voice hitches, reverent of the quote and he is reverent of her, “ I don’t mean ‘let’s have an affair. I don’t mean Sleep with me. I don’t mean Be my secret. I want us to go back to that root. I want you to be the one who loves me. I want to be the one who loves you.”
It feels impossible to look away from her, doe eyes practically sparkling in the low light of the shop, and there it is. His heart’s in his throat. Of all the things you could have told Spencer he’d experience, hearing her lovely voice wrap around the words be my lover in hushed tone, in sacred sweetness, would never ever be one he’d guess. 
He’s not sure how he feels about the multiverse theory, but right now, he can feel all the versions of himself pressing right up against him. Can see into lives he doesn’t get to live, lifetimes where his love isn’t a buried, worn-out tattered thing to keep his ever-frigid chest warm. Versions of himself that in this very moment can smile back at her, warm and open and kind, and kiss her perfect smile. 
Because he would be her lover. He would come home to her, spend the rest of his life building a home that she could fit  into. It’d be easy, actually. She’s easy to imagine- nights of laughing in a shared kitchen, evenings where her company is a fine wine, sipped at leisure with the comfort of knowing it’s never going to slip from your grasp. 
“I like that,” he says, voice too vulnerable for his own good, eyes unable to tear from the eye contact. “I really like that.” 
In the root of it, he already is her lover. He is the one who loves her. She’s just not his. 
Tumblr media
It comes to a head on a Friday. It’s a few weeks from he book shop, and the air feels heavier between them now. The last handful of Fridays he’s sat with the ghost of what used to be their plans, empty time lingering where in its’ place used to be her company. 
He doesn’t know if she’s been with Ben. He tries not to think about it. 
The sound of her voice lingers in his mind, sweet and bitter in his mind like old lemon candy, the kind his mother would save for special occasions. He’d spend any amount of money he had to hear her lovely voice say those words to him out of the context of a poem. 
At work, they seem almost normal. Like one of them wasn’t desperately in love with the other; like a genius and his lovely, incredibly empathetic, kind best friend. In the field, their actions flow together seamlessly. She is always the first to listen and to understand (and god, isn’t it intoxicating to have someone meet you in understanding) and there is nothing to suspect is off.
But there’s still a cloud lingering. The poem- the soft melody of her voice curling around the words, the request of it all, the way she had sounded so wanting- and then, there’s Ben. 
She doesn’t mention Ben to him, of course, but Penelope does. Penelope, all bows and bright colors and cheeriness keeps bringing the absolute worst news to Spencer with a smile on her face. 
He’s taking her out for drinks! Oh, he’s reading her favorite book, do you know what it is?
This anger isn’t an emotion that he’s familiar with. A roar of possessiveness, the bite of it not tempered at all by rationality. Has he touched her?
It seems almost a tradition at this point when she shakes him out of his jealous storm of thought.
“Spence?” she muses, “You alright?” They’re alone at his desk, everyone having fled for their own evening and weekend plans. This was one of the Fridays that she had agreed to spend with him, and he wonders if he’ll be able to handle the scent of her shampoo so close after such a lapse of the sensation. Will all of his judgement go where he can’t follow?
“Yeah,” he says, tucking his papers into his bag, “I’m excited for tonight.”
His place is actually a short walk from the office. He’d been embarrassed to show her the place at first. It’s all function over fashion, and a bit cramped, but she’d looked at as though it was made of something more, something good. She didn’t even tease him. It had actually been her idea, to start these movie nights. 
Ironic, really. 
The walk was pleasant, the weather a little frigid but still nice, and she looks beautiful under the setting sun. It’s incredible to him, how her lashes catch the light and make her irises look like polished stained glass. His favorite color. Through the looking glass of another life, he sees a version of himself that gathers her up in his arms. In this daydream, she grants him one of her smiles that seems to carry its’ own light, and leans into his body like it’s the only thing that keeps her steady. It’s so clear. On the other side of the veil, he kisses her reddening nose, and keeps her warm himself. 
In the here and now, Her coat is long, and hangs low by her ankles. It’s an elegant thing, like the woman who wears it, and Spencer would be grateful for a lifetime of just looking.They stop in front of his door, some invisible force stopping him from entering. 
She sheds the coat inside his home. It smells like the candle she got him for his birthday, a reminder of her grace. He’s saved a bottle of wine for them, a sweet thing for the sweetest thing he’s known. 
“I’m sorry,” she speaks the warmth of the beverage on her tongue, and it should feel abrupt but it doesn’t.
“What for?” He can’t imagine what she would have to apologize for. 
“I know things have been…off between us,” she says carefully, considering the phrasing of each word. He watches her with a reverence, his hazel eye brimming with affection with nowhere to go. “You’ve been so great through it.”
Her legs are thrown across his own, and she’s dangerously close to sitting in his lap, but not exactly. He’s missed having her this close, the last time she’d been in his orbit was before she’d had reason to be gone. She smells floral. He fights With limited filtering through his already treacherous mind he thinks, He can’t take this from me. I still get her like this. 
“I’m not entirely sure what it is.” 
She slowly shuts her eyes, go for a moment to somewhere he can’t follow. Her cheeks are rosy from the cold. 
“This whole Ben thing.”
“Oh.”
Logically, it always had to come back to this. Someone else had the good fortune to know her like this, to be the person she reads poetry to in deep meaning to. 
He’s been stealing moments from someone who’s not his to take them from. 
“I don’t even know how I wanted you to react.” she murmurs, staring at the rim of her glass. 
“I just want you to be happy” His voice is something low, grit in the sound of it. His hand rests on her thigh. There’s warmth blanketing the room and he wants to kiss her. He wants to kiss her all the time. 
She laughs, but it’s not her normal laugh. It’s tinny and a little bitter. He pushes his luck, and reaches out to brush the side of her face, moving the hair but still holding her face. Her breath smells like strawberry wine and temptation. 
It feels different tonight. Low light and tension that could be sliced with wire. Every part of her is in reach, and something in the air makes all of this talk of relativity, of physics, moot. 
Like maybe he’s not in the only world they don’t end up together. 
Her face is warm and soft under his touch and he loves the sight of her. He’s never touched her like this. Every point of contact feels electric, addicting. 
“What is it? The Ben thing?” He doesn’t know what he’s expecting to hear. What he wants, is for her to tell him that it doesn’t matter anymore, that she picks him-
“I only went out with him the once.”
“What?”
“I told Penelope I was still going because it made her happy and she said I couldn’t keep going to your apartment and reading you poetry and call that romance.”
Romance? 
Wasn’t it romance, though? 
Her eyes widen in something akin to horror. 
“Shit, Spence- I’m sorry, that is so fucked of me to say-“
“You,” he tries to say calmly, “aren’t going out with Ben.”
She blinks. 
“No?”
He has spent so much time living in other lives, existing in the minds of versions of himself he wasn’t lucky enough to be. Drinking coffee imagine a life colored in her presence, falling asleep yearning for the presence of something lighter than what he has to carry. 
He can’t exist in two places. That was the entire basis of the experiment. 
He moves his other hand to hold hers, and somehow she’s shifted to being on top of him, and he looks up at her with unwavering desire. 
Spencer isn’t good at wanting people, but it comes naturally with her. Less of an action and more an urge, a course of motion to which he is at the mercy of. This is what leads him to close the gap between them, and kiss her. It’s 
Her delicate fingers run through his hair, and she can’t be close enough, please, and he could spend the rest of his life kissing her, actually. He probably will spend the rest of his life thinking about the soft sigh he pulls out of her. 
“I want it to be me,” he manages to say through shallow breath, still so close that his lips brush hers every other word, “I want to be the one you pick. I want it to be me.” His hazel eyes seem to shift in the moment, swirling with emotion. 
She brushes a lock of his overgrown hair out of his face. He normally shaves when he sees her, but he’d been so busy that he’d forgotten, and felt embarrassed of it now. That is, until she runs her index finger along the edge of his jawline.
It’s then she leans down and kisses him again, pliant and good, his hands around her waist. He breathes a prayer into her mouth, one that hopes that she never ever comes to her senses about him. 
“Spence,” she says, her voice golden silk, a kindness.  “There was never anyone else to pick.” 
3K notes · View notes
bo0tleg · 2 months
Text
One thing I like about Top Gun (1986) is how believable the development with Ice and Mav's dynamic is.
I've seen a lot of the "Rivals suddenly become buddies after traumatic event together" in media, but I don't think I've seen it done better than in Top Gun. Mostly, I attribute it to how much build up it has.
Most of the time, the 'Rivals' hate each others guts throughout the entire movie/series and then they go through an extremely traumatic event that binds them for life and shifts their entire concept of each other. Ice and Mav never once changed how they saw each other, it just changed their understanding of it.
Ice saw Maverick as dangerous and Mav saw Iceman as stuck-up and commanding. And they weren't wrong, by any means.
From the beginning, they have tension between them because of how different they are. And it ends up in the audience seeing Ice as the 'Antagonist' because that's how Mav sees it, and we're seeing it from his perspective as the protagonist. But Ice was never inherently wrong, in fact he was right.
Other than his first scene, Iceman always has a point in what he's saying. He's criticizing Mav, not insulting him. Sure, he does it in a brash way because masculinity, but he's not trying to insult him, he's trying to knock him down a peg and wake him up to reality. All Ice wants is that he starts to act as a team player, start caring about everybody's safety AND his own, rather than being reckless for the sake of being reckless. But Mav sees it as an insult because he can't process criticism in a healthy way (due to how he grew up). The same thing happened with Charlie, for the record.
And so the strife between the two begins. What I like about it is how it bleeds out of them over time, becoming more settled as the movie goes on. In the locker room "You're dangerous" scene, the tension is palpable. It's obvious they're agitated by each other, and feel the need to prove they're the correct one.
If you pay attention, this whole... demand for superiority goes away as time progresses. They're fine with each other's presence, it's not like they're constantly at each others throat all the time. In the shower scene, Ice dropped all of the aggression and competitiveness from his tone and is instead just laying out what he thinks. He's not undermining Maverick, he's not lecturing him like a child. Iceman is just telling Maverick exactly how he sees the situation in hopes that it would make him realize what the fuck he's doing, but with little hope that it'll actually work.
That doesn't mean Ice is always correct either, he doesn't understand why Mav acts the way he does, thus fails to take into consideration the emotional trauma behind it. Which only causes even more strife.
The entire time, Iceman isn't being a dick for the sake of it, he just wants Mav to stop being stupid (by his standards). And Maverick doesn't understand it because all he gets from what Ice says is insults.
Maverick isn't good at understanding what people mean to say if it's implied, you need to say it to his face. This is the reason he stayed quiet in the shower scene, because Ice finally laid everything out in simple words that he can understand without making it sound like a dick-measuring contest.
Thing is, the tension mellows out. At the beginning, you could see the tension and cut it with a knife. By the middle you can see them getting used to each other without jumping to constantly trade jabs (namely: the volleyball scene, it's just a bunch of guys being dudes, and the scene where Charlie says that Mav flew recklessly in front of the whole class, Ice doesn't comment on it in any way). Over time, they've settled down into their tension without needing to address it all the time.
Then Goose dies.
And the tension between them is still there.
Just because Goose isn't there anymore, doesn't mean their whole dynamic vanishes all of a sudden. You can see their hesitation towards each other (especially Ice), and that's great! It demonstrates that Goose dying doesn't magically resolve their problems with each other in solidarity.
Ice tried to give his consolations to Mav, and is awfully awkward about it. You can see on his face that he wants to say more, but doesn't because he knows it's not his place given their history. And not much is said, but a lot it communicated. (Val Kilmer is a killer actor for this, OH MY FUCKING GOD BLESS THAT MAN)
Even in the graduation scene you can see how out of their depts they really are with each other. A stilted congratulations, that was it. But they're trying, and that's what matters.
A scene I think gets overlooked a lot is the scene right before the Layton, where Ice expressed his worries about Mav to Stinger, and Mav heard him. Because I feel like that was a shift that was more drastic than the Layton itself for them.
What Ice was doing in that scene wasn't doubting Maverick's flying abilities, it was his mental health. Sure, he passed the psych eval, but that means next to jack shit when in a real combat situation so close after his backseater dying. And Ice might be worried that he's gonna be left hanging, but with the way he was speaking I'm more inclined to believe he was more worried about Maverick's wellbeing than himself. Ice almost looked resigned. He knew it was gonna get dismissed because that's the military for you, but he still wanted to try to vouch for Mav to stay groundside, if only to keep his mind at bay.
But Maverick heard him, and as usual, he read it as an insult. He wasn't wrong to assume Ice didn't believe him capable of flying the mission, which wouldn't be a lie, but failed to realize that he had more than one reason to want Maverick on the ground rather than in the air. And for the first time, Maverick believes him.
Up until this point, Mav dismissed all of Ice's so called 'insults' because he was certain in and of himself. But now he isn't anymore.
And it affects his performance in the air. I'm not saying he was as shitty as he was at the start of that combat because of what he overheard, but I am saying that it certainly didn't help matters in the slightest.
So their weird 'stepping-on-eggshells' situation is all over the place by that point. Because they started to care about each other despite not being what one would call proper friends yet. It's establishing a potential friendship by implying that 1. Ice cares about Mav's wellbeing and 2. Mav cares about what Ice thinks.
On the ground, they have the wingman exchange, and their suddenly buddy buddy. Thing is, it wasn't sudden at all.
They've been setting this up the entire fucking movie.
Going back to what I said at the beginning: Ice thinks Mav is dangerous and Mav thinks Ice is stuck-up and controlling. After the Layton, they still think those things because they weren't wrong to begin with. What changed was that instead of seeing it as something that pitted them against each other, it was seen as something that simply was about the other, and that there was no changing it. It could be good.
Mav being dangerous could be good and Ice being stuck-up and controlling could be good, because those were just traits of who they were. By the end of the movie they didn't change how they saw each other, just how they interpreted each other.
And it was built up during the entire fucking movie.
There was a reason to why they acted the way they did with each other because of the stilted interpretation they had of each other. From rivalry to friendship (and perhaps more later down the line), it's glaringly obvious throughout that it wasn't a sudden shift, it was exponential.
That's why I think it was so well developed, because you could see it coming.
703 notes · View notes
Text
That's My Man
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~500
Warnings: fluff
Summary: Spencer gets a haircut and you have a most pleasant reaction to it.
Square Filled: holidays (2023) for @cmbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
Tumblr media
x
It’s been an entire month since you’ve seen your boyfriend but he’s back now. He spent Christmas and New Years with his mother back in Las Vegas while you stayed with your family in Virginia. You two are still so new that you haven’t had the chance to meet his family, and you weren't going to let your first meeting be the holidays.
If and when you’re going to do it, you want to do it right.
While the holidays might be over, the snow is still coming down in waves, making this a white winter. Snow is probably your favorite kind of weather because you get to create angels and snowmen and forts and anything else you want. You want to do that and go ice skating with Spencer tomorrow when the sun is out but for right now, you’re going to have a movie marathon.
He’s staying over for the entire weekend and you can’t be more excited than you are right now.
“Y/N?” Spencer’s voice comes from the front hallway. The door opens to face a solid wall fifteen feet from the door. To the left is the kitchen and to the right is the living room. “I’m here!”
You gave him a key pretty early on because you already knew he was the man you were going to spend the rest of your life with. It’s one of those things where you just know. You love him so much and you don’t want to waste any time with him.
“In here!” you call from the right. Spencer shrugs off his jacket and hangs it on the hook in front of him before closing and locking the door. He walks into the living room and you turn to greet him when a confused frown sits on your face. “Why are you wearing a beanie?”
Spencer hates hats. He doesn’t like the feel of them or how he looks in them. Why is he wearing a beanie? He hasn’t all winter.
“I don’t know. I liked how it looked on me.”
“Mmhmm.” You get up and walk over to him. “Now what’s the real reason?” He looks shy as if he’s embarrassed to tell you. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, everything is fine. Just… don’t laugh, okay?”
“Okay.”
He takes off his beanie and your jaw practically drops to the floor. He messes with his hair to make it look good but you’re fixed on that the fact that he got a haircut. He doesn't have long curly hair anymore. It’s short and slightly spiked. There are longer pieces in the front but he’s cut it all off.
God fucking damn. He looks so goddamn fine.
“Please say something,” he sighs, unable to take the silence anymore.
“Oh, my God.” He lowers his head knowing you must hate it. “Look at my man!” He snaps his head up as a slight blush creeps up his neck. “Damn, you look so good! Is that Spencer Reid? My gorgeous man?”
“Okay, stop,” he smiles, blushing profusely. You jump into his arms and kiss his face all over, and he tips his head back and laughs. “Okay, okay, okay!”
You pull away with a loving smile and keep your arms wrapped around his neck.
“You look very handsome.”
“Thank you,” he smiles.
Choosing you has got to be the best thing he could have ever done for himself.
Tumblr media
x
Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)
968 notes · View notes
inkskinned · 10 months
Text
it just sucks because nothing is ever fucking made for you, and if it is made for you like 75% of the time it gets chopped into little pieces by every person alive because this is the one thing you have, so it has to prove itself to you.
like, a thing can't just be for women. men need to assign it to women. women have to experience "must" or "should" before their hobbies and passions - women are allowed to do silly, passive things like tuck our ankles and titter behind a fan, or something. women are allowed to, they are welcomed to. like the world is a house and we are supposed to be in the kitchen and now we are being given the divine right to enter the living room if we bring chips
because when it becomes for you, or about you, that is when the thing is vile. you should/must wear makeup so you can appear beautiful to men. once you wear makeup for yourself, or because you yourself enjoy putting it on, then you are no longer doing the right thing. there is a reason men hate certain fashion trends. there is a reason men hate things like the pumpkin spice latte - because it's not about them. you are buying it because it is good for you. they degrade your passions and interests. there is a reason women-led fields are largely seen as being "not a real" profession. when you are a good cook, that is because you can provide for him. close your eyes. you're not going to be a chef, be honest. that is a man making food for himself.
bras are made so breasts will be appealing to men. they are rarely about comfort or support. you have given up entirely on the idea of pockets. young girls have to worry about a shorter inseam on their shorts. a girl on instagram gets her septum pierced, and men in the comments are rabid about it - i just want to rip it out of her face. she'd be beautiful without it.
and fucking everything is for them. even the media that is "for you" is for them, eventually. remember "my little pony"? remember how hard it is to convince any executive to believe that little girls are worth selling to? in the media that is for you, you see little ways that you still need to make it accessible for them - the man is always powerful, smart, masculine. he is a man's man. the media usually forgives him. it usually says okay, some men are awful, but hey! gotta love 'em. because if you don't hold their hands and say "this is literally just a story about my lived reality", they shit their pants about it. they demand you put them into the media that's for you.
these are people who are so used to glutting themselves on the world. they are used to having every corner and every dollar and every place of leadership. so you say can i please have one slice of cake, just for myself, please, holy shit. and they fucking weep about it. they say you're being unfair, because some of their one-thousand-slices aren't beautiful, and your singular cake slice doesn't have their name on it. and aren't you being rude by not offering to share?
and honestly. fucking - yeah, man. you were kind of surprised, because the cake is a little basic (you bake at home, you're way past this stuff). but holy shit, it was nice just to be offered cake in the first place. you're used to having to starve. you're used to getting nothing, but going to the party anyway, because you're expected (professionally) to show up. you liked that it is a simple cake, and that it is warm, and mostly: you like that there is, for once, a cake-for-you.
in the real world, outside of metaphor, it feels like fucking being slapped. barbie didn't even say anything particularly unusual; it literally just made factually evident points. there are less women in leadership than men. we can look at that fact objectively. that is a real thing that is happening. and the movie is aware that it has to defend itself! that it has to spend like half an hour just turning to the camera and saying: i know this is hard for you to understand, but this is a real thing that women experience.
it's just - this is that one kid on the playground who thinks its allowed to hog all the toys. he builds this hoard that nobody else is allowed to even look at, or he'll get aggressive. everyone's a little scared of him, so they let it slide, because his daddy gave him the golden touch. he hates when people cry and thinks bullying is cool. he writes boys only! on a big sign and makes all his friends take "alpha male" classes.
and then girls pick up barbies, because there was nothing left for them. and in the void they've been given, with their scraps: they make long, spiraling narratives about how barbie is actually descended from snakes and has given her righteous followers magical (if concerning) powers and can speak 32 languages (2 of which are animal related) and has big plans for infrastructure (beginning with the local interstate). and the boy comes over, and he has a huge fit about how the girls aren't "including" him. he wants to know why the girls aren't making the story about ken.
"we didn't like your story." the girls blink at him. they point to his war stories and the gi joes and the millions of male-led narratives and how still in the modern day men get two-thirds of the speaking roles in movies and they point to men making mediocre shows that don't get lambasted and they point to men encouraging toxic masculinity and they point to men everywhere, men and men and men. and they say: "how is this our fault? you had ken."
"no!" he is already back to screaming and stomping his feet and tearing at his hair and intentionally reminding them that men are holding back thinly concealed violence and he says: "if it's not for me, it's actually sexism."
2K notes · View notes
rad-batson · 1 year
Text
The Batkids and The Arts (Feral Edition)
They’re all musical theatre nerds. Every single one of them. Bruce, Alfred, Dick, Cass, Jason, Steph, Tim, Duke, Damian. They go see Broadway shows together then don’t stop talking about it for like a week. It is the one bonding activity they will never pass up.
Jason and Steph once entered a ballroom dancing competition and won after some pompous rich kids insulted their moves during a gala. Since then, they’ve entered a competition every month or so just for fun. (And for the prize money :P)
Tim is an avid believer that Culinary Art is one of The Arts. (Can he cook? Absolutely not. It was Bernard that convinced him, but he stands by it.)
Duke talks through every single movie he watches. He always promises to be quiet at the beginning, but then he gets too excited and whispers commentary to the people around him. This habit has since bled into the entire family. They are no longer welcome at the local AMC.
Every single one of them is pretentious about something.
Dick is pretentious about any and all performance arts featured at the circus. Once, someone made a joke about going to “Clown School” and Dick screamed at them about how not even their pinky would have the privilege of being admitted into clown school.
Jason is pretentious about classic literature. They can no longer tell if his jokes and references to Shakespeare and Jane Austen are correct or if he’s just fucking with them.
Cass gets pretentious about martial arts being a performance art. She is also pretentious about ballet being a martial art. She could kill a man in fifth position without losing her balance, and that’s a fucking fact.
Stephanie is very good at acting pretentious about the arts. She absorbs everything she’s learned from the rest of the bat family’s interests then pretends to be pretentious about it to mock them while sneaking in just enough correct information so no one can call her out on it. (Her true interest is graphic design.)
Tim has no professional experience with photography, but he will be pretentious about it like he knows everything. (Bruce: Tim, why is there a filter on this evidence photo you took? Tim: I thought it looked nicer that way. Really makes the blood splatter pop.)
Duke isn’t exactly pretentious about writing, but he will lay down his life for the Oxford comma. (Bruce didn’t use it until Duke called the punctuation in his mission reports “insulting.” He now uses it.)
Damian is pretentious about studio art. If he ever hears his family or friends say, “I don’t get it,” at an art museum, he will make them look at it for five minutes as he explains in painstaking detail what’s so revolutionary about it.
The kids decided to take an improv class together once for their undercover work while Bruce and Alfred were out of town. It was so fun that they still play improv games when they’re bored.
Cass is secretly a metalhead.
Whenever one of the younger kids needs to write an English paper, they will just walk up to Jason, riddle off a dumb opinion about the book or poem they had to read, and record whatever Jason ends up lecturing them about. The most recent incident resulted in an award-winning paper about how the theory that William Shakespeare never wrote his own work is deeply rooted in classism.
Damian always has paint under his nails. It just never comes out.
Dick has personally taught everyone in the family how to do The Perfect Backflip. They all get a little ceremony once they’ve mastered it. There is cake.
Whenever Cass is standing around with nothing to do, she’ll practice her foot positions for ballet. The others always notice and follow her lead.
Jason: dramatically recites a poem in the living room Steph: starts beatboxing
Steph is always the first to find typos or continuity errors in a book, play, or movie. She doesn’t intend to; it’s just second nature to her. (She is now Duke’s official proofreader.)
Duke: So how’d you like the movie? Damian: I really loved the mise-en-scène, especially during the breakfast scene and that one shot near the end with the warehouse doors. Duke: *nods thoughtfully* Everyone Else Leaving the Theater: wtf is a meez on sen?
When Duke is finished writing something and wants to share it with his family, he’ll give it to Jason and Cass first.
Jason and Duke have frequent passionate arguments discussions about who is the best poet. Never bring up Dickinson, Poe, Shakespeare, Hughes, Plath, Wilde, Kipling, Sappho, or Angelou in their vicinity unless you want to start it up again.
Damian is surprisingly good at acting. Too good.
Dick knows your music taste before you do. He has a carefully curated playlist for every single family member, every possible combination of family members, and every possible mood at the ready.
They can and will correct anyone who mistakes Gothic architecture for Victorian or Gothic Revival and vice versa. (It’s really a Gotham thing.)
Tim: How dare you call The Grand Budapest Hotel the best prison break movie when it’s clearly The Shawshank Redemption! Jason: Well, as someone who’s BEEN TO PRISON, I think I should know! Dick: It’s clearly Chicken Run! You’re all just Chicken-ist. Duke: But what about Midnight Express?! That one’s so good! Steph: Has anyone mentioned Toy Story 3 yet? No? Damian, watching from the sidelines: I liked Escape from Alcatraz. Cass: Same.
There are several art pieces in the manor that have been positioned directly over top of bullet holes and other suspicious damages.
Damian and Duke made an animated short film once for the Gotham Film Festival. Dick and Cass were their models for the concept art. Tim did historical research. Jason helped Duke edit the storyboard, and Steph was the continuity supervisor. It was about a British super spy working for MI6 that saved the world in the late 70’s. It was titled Agent A.
3K notes · View notes
erwinsvow · 23 days
Note
“you and rafe had spent the first hour of the morning rolling around in his bed at tannyhill, working up a sweat, which then was washed off in the shower together.”
could you do a drabble about this😣 shy reader and rafe are my babies. they’re so cute!!
oh my goodness you are too sweet! i love this line and i hope i did it justice for you ♡
Tumblr media
pressed against the wall of rafe's shower, warm water splashing on your skin and rafe's hands on your hips, you close your eyes and wonder if you're really here. the crush you'd been nursing for what seems like ever washes over you one more time, and it makes your entire body shiver.
there was nothing better than sleeping over at rafe's. and it seemed like he was being extra nice when you did, letting you pick out the movie (a girly rom-com) and taking you out for ice cream at midnight (vanilla softserve that you'd shared with him).
in the morning, you'd woken up with limbs entangled, his head in your hair and somehow, with you still gripping onto his hand. the position in which you two woke up had made it too easy to repeat last night's activities again, ending up with your face buried in your pillow and rafe slamming into you from behind. your fingers curl around his sheets, moans muffled by the covers until he grips the back of your head, lifting you up by your hair so he can hear you better.
nothing about sleeping with rafe feels the same, in fact it feels different everytime—more toe curling and thighs trembling than the last—but one thing always stays the same, and that's how much rafe likes to hear you when you cum.
when rafe cums, it's messy, filling you up and leaking onto his sheets. you've made a mess without trying, skin sweaty, hair tangled from where his fist was. you could close your eyes and fall asleep again in a minute, if he'd let you.
"open your eyes, kid. we got shit to do."
"hmm-" you let out, quiet and soft, another moan while you feel rafe's cum slip out of you. it's a noise of contentment—and truly, there's no better feeling in the world. "like what?"
"shower. eat somethin'. c'mon, don't fall asleep on me."
"please, rafe. tired." your eyes stay closed—the way you said, he has half a mind to let you stay like this. rafe thinks briefly that he'd keep you like this forever if he could, naked and delirious in his bed. another thought floats around and enraptures his brain—the fact that you'd comply easily, that you'd want to stay like that too.
"after we shower you can sleep." you open an eye, looking up at your boyfriend. the sun shines on his bare shoulder, making his hair glow with light.
"we?"
"yes, kid. we."
"hm," you pretend to debate for a second. "let me think about it." you don't get any more time to even try to think—he picks you up and into the air immediately, carrying you to the bathroom.
that's how you end up like this, your cheek on the tile. rafe brushes aside some wet hair from your neck to press a kiss there. even in the lukewarm water his touch feels hot, so much so you think your skin's on fire.
he slides in easily—your knees go weak at the feeling. but it doesn't matter—like always—rafe's holding you up, fucking into you while your eyes stay clamped shut. overstimulated beyond belief, unsure where rafe ends and you begin, you cry out while he pounds into you. it's only another minute, everything gets tight and tense and painfully hot, you think you're cumming again, head falling back onto rafe's shoulder while he fucks you through it.
your moans seem louder this time—rafe's too, listening intently while he spills inside you again. you think it feels even better now than it did on his bed, than it did last night.
when you open your eyes, something's different. you realize the shower's not on anymore. rafe's still holding you up, the two of you catch your breath, and you look up at him confused.
"why did you turn the water off? we have to shower."
"couldn't hear you over it."
Tumblr media
344 notes · View notes
cxlamarisalxmi · 1 year
Text
Being a variant and being on Miles’ side [GN]
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
[Platonic Headcanons]
c/w: major spoilers, gender neutral terms and pronouns (they/them), no gendered terms used to describe reader, canon inaccuracies? I’m not really sure I’d just gone off what I had perceived from the movie
[Unedited]
• Miguel and Jessica had been keeping a keen eye on the teenager spider variant (you) from Earth-2315126 since you’d been bitten at five years old
• Strange thing was your father; Peter Parker was also bit, which meant your dimension had two spider variants as opposed to one— not unheard of but not common either
• It was fortunate for you however because you had someone to teach you, show you the ropes, the fact that it was your father who had become your mentor was only the icing on the cake
• And you were brought up into a spectacular spider variant in his care; strong, compassionate, kind
• Though despite having a father the pair kept a watchful eye on you regardless, seeing promise in your future and believing in your potential
• When you were fourteen your father was killed by Lizard, and for an entire year following you gave up on your heroic persona— hanging up your suit in the wake of your father’s death that rocked your entire world
• Being Spider-Man/Woman is about sacrifice, your father taught that to you when you began and you should’ve expected that you could not have it all
• A loving and doting father and the most badass secondary identity ever, it was always bound to happen and you should’ve prepared yourself for it
• But nobody could prepare themself for the loss of a loved one, and the ache in your chest and the burn in your stomach was something you’d never felt before— nor do you ever wish to feel it again
• So you gave up on the suit and you gave up on being the hero, eventually your Aunt May had stepped in and she scolded you pretty heavily about your state
• You didn’t think she had room to talk and she laid into you pretty hard for that comment because she most certainly did, Peter was her brother after all
• After you got it pretty good you decided that she was right, sulking about and ruining yourself wouldn’t change a damn thing, not only that but you knew your father would hate to see you like that
• You knew he wouldn’t ever force the suit upon you and you accepted that you had the choice to avoid dawning it ever again, but you also knew what he would do in your position
• He would bear the responsibility of his beloved city no matter the circumstances and no matter the heartache, because Spider-Man always gets back up
• So you stood firm upon all the valiant determination you could muster and picked your life back up again
• You got better emotionally and grew stable once more, and in the acceptance of your father’s death you had grown stronger, confident, courageous
• With you back on the streets of NYC the people of Brooklyn often voiced just how much they had missed and needed you
• And you didn’t plan on letting them down again, so despite the lack of a piece of your heart you always showed up when people needed you and you’ve not yet let them down
• Now, back to Jess and Miguel— they had known Peter would die and they had known they could not interfere as this was your canon event, the moment that would make or break you.. turns out it did both
• And they watched as you suffered through the loss, gave up on everything and everyone (including yourself) for a little over a year, worked through your pain and powered forward to overcome your grief, then became one of the strongest variants they had ever seen just before your seventeenth birthday
• Yes, they’ve been watching you for twelve years and yes, you have no idea
• It was on your seventeenth birthday that you had encountered Lizard once again, and this time he had taken enhancement drugs to increase his growth rate to tremendously rapid levels
• To say you were a bit stunned to see Lizard the size of a fucking dinosaur would be the understatement of the entire damn year
• Now, you held malicious and vengeful feelings towards Lizard for a long time in the wake of your father’s murder but it was feelings you had never ever acted upon, not even after you decided to pick up the suit once more
• As mentioned before you knew very well that the angry and hateful feeling brewing inside you at the expense of Lizard killing him could ruin you if you let it
• And that’s not where your morals lie, your beliefs and virtues are straight from those of your fathers— to be strong and courageous, righteous and pure for being Spider-Man/Woman is about hope
• So you did intend to take him down but you’d never do it with sinister intent or threatening tactics— just bring him down is all you wanted to do
• And if you were to speak honestly, it wasn’t as hard as you thought it was gonna be, obviously it was still pretty tough because hello? He’s the size of a fucking house, might as well be fighting a damn dragon
• It was easier because you’d felt at peace with yourself, and when at peace with yourself you worked harder and cleaner, jobs and protecting the city was just.. easier
• The fact the fight was easier than you expected could’ve also been because of your bite, the abilities you had gotten from it were a bit different than your father’s
• See, you’d been bit by a radioactive spider yes but it was a specific species and in accordance with that species you’d gained significantly different skills and traits
• The spider that had bit you was a Northern Wolf Spider, the arachnid gaining that name from it’s behavior of chasing, hunting and stalking prey, and in an odd turn of events you’d gained qualities that were more akin to that of a North American Timber Wolf
• Heightened senses came with the bite for every variant, and your specific qualities included; advanced stamina and strength, increased sense of sight, tremendously keen sense of smell and auditory processing, you had thick and durable fangs meant for tearing and searing
• You also bulked up a whole more more since your father passed, and in gaining more weight in pure muscle you’ve had to make your webs more durable, which helped out a lot with your fight against Lizard
• Speaking of—
“They’ve probably got it handled Miguel, is there any reason to actually go to their dimension?”
“I protect the multiverse which makes anomalies my responsibility, regardless of if that variant can handle them or not. And I’m going to have them join us.”
Jessica didn’t say much after, and she followed Miguel dutifully as he walked into the glowing orange portal. The pair flew through the multiverse for all of two seconds before a portal opened ahead of them and they were dropped onto a roof in your dimension.
“Went a bit too heavy on the ‘roids didn’t ya Doc?” The voice of a young teenager caught their ears. Just off to the side and a couple blocks away. Now facing that way they could see the large head of Lizard standing tall over the lip of the building on the distance.
“Is.. is that?—”
“Dr. Curt Connors.”
You leapt off the metal grail of the fire escape just as Lizard destroyed it with a whip of his massive tail. Using the momentum from your jump you swung a reverse axe kick to Lizard’s chin— putting enough force into it to throw his head back as you flip-jumped from him and landed on the road down below.
“I’m going to rip you apart and feast on your innards!” Lizard snarled as he recovered and glowered down at you with a sinister bear of his teeth.
“Season them well first at least, I’d suggest a nice barbecue rub!” You responded before shooting a web to the corner of the building on your left and swinging yourself into the air. Lizard roared angrily before lunging forward and attempting to catch you between his teeth. They snapped close with a chilling clamp and throaty growl from the beast.
Reaching the corner of the building you had shot your web at you leapt up and backwards flying over Lizard’s head and connecting a web to the side of his muzzle.
“Almost got me there!” You yelled as you swung around and around Lizard’s large scaled snout. “Don’t you know that animals that bite are often fitted with muzzles!” You quipped, enunciating the last word with a firm tug thus tightening the webs you’d been wrapping around his jaws and effectively sealing his mouth shut.
You kept the momentum and attached another web to the end of the one you’d been swinging around his muzzle. Then, you angled your hip to swing towards Lizard’s legs and using the same tactic looped around them several times before you were doing the same thing for his arms. When you deemed him wrapped up enough you landed behind him then tugged hard on the web end in your hand and forced Lizard to the ground by pulling his feet out from underneath him.
Once you were sure he was on the asphalt you were swift to web him up tightly and bind him to the ground. Hopefully, Captain Stacey got your message about the antidote and would arrive soon with it.
Meanwhile, as you waited you playfully walked along the edge of the building. The lip acting as your balance beam as you walked on your toes along it, doing a flip every so often just cause. You’d long since forgone your mask in favor of eating the sandwich gifted to you by the bodega owner on the corner.
Your spider senses tingled before—
“That was pretty impressive.”
You only flinched slightly at the abrupt interruption of your own little world, and turned to see two people. One, a very tall and broad man with wide shoulders and a muscular physique. The other, a woman with dark skin and a styled afro.. and she was pregnant.
“Uhm… thanks?”
“Was that a question?”
“Sorry it’s just—” you shook your head before jumping down and only now standing on the same level as him did you realize how tall the man actually was. “Who exactly are you two?”
“I’d think the suits gave you plenty context.” The woman replied, a smirk tugging up one end of her lips.
“Okay.. and why are you here?” You answered, still on edge about the two variants standing in front of you.
“My name is Miguel O’hara, and I lead an elite strike force dedicated to helping maintain the multiverse.” The man responded and you quirked an eyebrow at him.
“That still doesn’t explain why you’re here?”
“There was an anomaly reading in your dimension and we’re here to retrieve whatever villain has jumped into your universe.” The woman explained, jumping in to answer before Miguel could.
“You mean Kingpin?” You replied pointing to the billboard behind them and they both spun around to find the suit wearing antagonist webbed to it. Thick, white webs covering his entire body save for his neck and head, finally a web over his mouth. And they all watched as he glitched and morphed in colorful and mixed patterns, the board he was attached to glitching out too before changing entirely.
“How did you?—”
“My AP Physics teacher won’t shut up about the multiverse and also he doesn’t look my Kingpin at all so.. I mean you know,” they shrugged.
Miguel turned his head slightly to look at the woman beside him before he jerked his head minutely then he was facing the teenager in front of him once more. You met his masked stare head on (something he was impressed by, not many people can meet his intimidating glare straight on) as the woman walked away from you two before slinging a web up to the billboard and pulling herself up to it.
“You know the whole sinister and dark ‘nobody touch me I’m emo’ vibe you got going on isn’t very heroic.”
Miguel didn’t say anything, didn’t move an inch as he just stared at you. “See that right there isn’t becoming of someone who’s supposed to make people feel safe.”
“I protect the multiverse.”
“Right. But there are ordinary people in the multiverse, in every dimension you’ll find people.”
“The multiverse is my priority.”
“Yikes, saying things like that are not very becoming of a Spider-Man either.”
Miguel turned his observant stare cold as he chose to glare at you instead for the disrespectful responses and jokes. And he figured you must’ve felt he’d changed to glaring heatedly because you awkwardly looked away with a hand rubbing the back of your neck.
Finally, the woman returned with the Kingpin variant at her feet. This one significantly smaller than yours and lankier too, he must rely heavily on his Tombstone and Prowler. You’d rather have this Kingpin as opposed to your Kingpin— who for some reason is built like a fucking overgrown Silverback Gorilla.
She fiddled with the watch on her wrist before a golden portal erupted into life beside her, and you watched as she threw the Kingpin variant in before stepping in herself. But not before saluting you a goodbye with a playful glint in her eye and cheeky smirk on her face.
The portal closed and then your attention was back on Miguel, and your spider senses tingling brought a hand up to catch the watch he threw at you.
“Join us?”
You looked from him to the device in your hand, then you looked behind you at the Lizard on the ground down below. Captain Stacey at his neck and injecting him with a vial of clear liquid. You turned back to Miguel with a smirk and eager look as you slid the watch onto your wrist. “Sounds like a damn good time.”
• You didn’t know if you actually wanted to be there at Miguel’s Spider Society or whatever he’s calling it but you were also a bit intrigued by it
• So you followed them when he offered you that watch, and you grinned as he gave walked you around the building, giving you a small tour of his headquarters
• When you met Peter B. Parker you had an emotional breakdown and refused to return to the society for days following your first interaction with the man
• When you finally went back he was concerned that he’d done something wrong to garner such a reaction but you were quick to jump in and let him know it was in no way his fault before you explained why you had reacted as you did
• He was more than understanding, offering to keep his distance if that was what you wanted and whilst you appreciated the gesture you told him you would be fine
• And spending time in his company had begun to fill that gaping hole in your heart, obviously he’d never replace your father and you didn’t expect that of him either but his fatherly presence made you feel better than you had in years since your father’s passing
• Mayday was just an added bonus to his presence
• Time passed and you were there for a couple months before you met Gwen Stacey, and the two of you clicked almost instantly, it was a bit odd for you since the Gwen from your universe was about three years old and hadn’t been bitten but you got used to it
• And in that time you’d also learned the pregnant woman’s name was Jessica and that she was Miguel’s right hand in his society that he created
• You’d also met Hobie Brown and Pavitr Prabhakar whom you’d come to adore more than you’d ever outwardly admit lest you wish to give them egos the size of fucking Mars (but those two alongside Gwen were definitely your favorites) (behind Miguel ofc)
• Speaking of, you’d also grown quite close to Miguel in your time as part of his society of spider people, which was a huge surprise to yourself, him, Jessica and pretty much everyone involved
• He couldn’t really explain what it was, just something about your energy and the way you carried yourself that had him intrigued and impressed
• Your attitude that alluded to you never giving up was something he admired about you too, and it was those qualities that drew him in, made him want to protect you
• The bonding with you was something he didn’t expect to happen but was shocked when he wasn’t against it, and he ignored the initial reluctance and fear that he felt when you two began to get closer and closer
• Maybe it was the little things, the way you’d check up on him after a particularly harrowing or difficult mission, or the way you’d do anything to see if you could get him to crack a smile, there was something about your mere presence too, something warm and comforting
• Something he hadn’t felt since his young daughter was still a part of his life, and he was afraid of the consequences that would follow if he ever got close to you and lost you
• The same heartache he felt for his daughter would return, and it was pain that he didn’t want to feel ever again, that’s why he kept himself so guarded, those broken and vulnerable pieces protected behind vaulted steel doors
• But you had somehow managed to slip through his barbed defenses and made yourself right at home in his heart, and again he was initially afraid of the possibility that he’d lose you too and he’d face that pain all over again
• He doesn’t remember when or how he got over it, but he does remember the feeling that washed over him when he finally accepted your friendship
• It felt akin to a bucket of cold water being dumped over that fiery and searing ache in his chest, relief and comfort that he felt weigh so heavily on his chest he almost cried
• After that your guys’ relationship developed to much deepen levels, and he’d never admit to your face but you had quickly become his favorite and he would do anything to protect you, protect your bond like his life depended on it
• And just like Peter, his mere presence seemed to make you finally feel whole again… complete
• And as time continued to pass you’d only grow closer with the two men, finding safety and comfort in their arms, safety and comfort you’d been craving since you were fourteen years old
• Then, Miles Morales came along and everything went to shit
• Despite being on his team for months Miguel failed to mention that there was a spider variant that was an anomaly
• And in failing to mention that you had to figure it out on your own when Miles’ scent hit your nose and he smelled drastically different from the other spider people
• He smelt odd, unnatural and unusual… strange
• It didn’t take you long to figure out that he was an anomaly but you still figured it out by the way his scent, and you thanked the stars for that particular gift you got from the species of spider that had bitten you
• After Miles, Hobie and Gwen returned from the rescue they accomplished in Pavitr’s dimension at the expense of Spot is when things went from bad to ultimately worse
• Miguel had hoped somewhere small in his chest that you would side with him but he knew in a significantly larger part of him that your morals would not allow you to stand for him preventing Miles from saving his father
• Miguel knew that if you had known your father would’ve been killed that horrible night those years ago that you would’ve interfered without hesitation
• So he was not confident that you’d agree with him and well over half of the rest of the spider variants that this is something that must occur
• And he feared the confrontation with you, he feared the hate he’d no doubt see in your eyes when you find out this is where he stood on his opinion about the situation
• He wasn’t wrong either, because when Miles had returned and they all had cornered him after Miles discovered that Spot would be the cause, you didn’t take it all that well—
You were conflicted, you cared about Miguel but you’re morals and beliefs were very important to you— defined who you were. They were instilled into you by your father and you truly believed that by following through with them to the end you were keeping his legacy alive.
And they were loud in your ears right now, deafening in their prominent voice as you watched Miles get more and more tightly wound.
The thing was.. you agreed with him. And your father would’ve agreed with him too. There is no way Miguel knows for absolute certainty that Miles’ universe would collapse if he saved his father. And there’s no way any of the other spider variants could possibly know either.
There were facts and evidence on Miguel’s side but again— your values were speaking much louder than him. Because your father would’ve been disgusted by the behavior these spider variants were displaying, and he would’ve straight up hated Miguel. That you were absolutely sure of.
“This is wrong Miguel,” you spoke up and the spider variant you were speaking of turned to look at you. “You’re just going to let someone die when you know you could change the outcome? How could you possibly think that’s okay?”
“[Y/Name]—”
“Spider-Man isn’t about the acceptance of loss and grief yet to come, Spider-Man is about hope, hope and promise of a greater tomorrow. Hope that there will always be someone there to help… someone there to protect those who can’t do so themselves.”
“The security of the multiverse is important!” Miguel argued, his tone aggressive and his expression frustrated as he ignored the ache on his chest. The ache that had erupted into existence at the expense of his theory proving correct— you would be against him.
“No! What’s important is not standing by and allowing someone to suffer or die! If that’s truly what you believe, then you don’t know the first damn thing about being Spider-Man!”
“[Y/Name]…” Peter B. trailed as he got your attention, walking closer to you and putting a gentle hand on your shoulder. “We cannot interfere.”
You smacked his hand off your shoulder and stepped back and away from him several times to be standing beside Miles instead. “You too? Peter this is wrong, so unbelievably fucking wrong!”
“[Y/Name], I can’t let you get in the way. I’m sorry.” Miguel apologized before he was throwing something at yours and Miles’ feet. The device activated and put up a scarlet force field, Miles panicked and beat against the walls. As the variants outside the force field argued you looked to Miguel and Miguel only. And he looked right back. You just stared at him, eyes hard and brows taut and pulled together as he stared right back.
You ignored Miles as he continued to search for a way out, Miguel finally pulled his eyes off yours as Peter B. advanced on him. “Miguel! This is taking it too far!”
“He’ll only do more damage, we all know that!”
As they continued to argue outside the shield you turned your back on Miguel and flexing your fingers extended your thick and powerful claws. You could tear this force field apart if you truly tried, that’s what you were going to do. But before you could even put your hands up your senses tingled and you instinctively put your arms around your head to protect yourself as the shield was destroyed by a powerful electrical surge.
When Miles destroyed the force field he hesitated for but a single moment before he turned, grabbed your wrist and took off.
“[Y/NAME]!”
You distantly heard behind you before you were freeing yourself from Miles to run beside him instead, and you two sprinted through Miguel’s headquarters with you leading him seeing as you’ve already been there for close to a little more than six months.
Getting out wasn’t hard, at least not for you. The variants certainly tried but they weren’t any match for you. A well seasoned and thoroughly trained hero with twelve years of polishing your expertise and craft to a fine point.
Miles had a little trouble keeping up but you didn’t get too far ahead of him in which he couldn’t follow, you two only got separated once. And whilst you weren’t entirely sure where he’d gone off to, you had the absolute pleasure of facing off against Miguel (note the sarcasm).
Your senses tingled as you discreetly swung through the underbelly of Miguel’s HQ, and you pulled yourself up just in time to avoid Miguel’s web. And the two of you fought and danced around each other throughout headquarters. Miguel trying to capture you and yourself avoiding that outcome at all costs by expertly evading him. When you had finally reached outside you met up again with Miles on the train overhead cover that was speeding upon a vertical track at astronomical velocity.
It was hard to hang on, even more so with Miguel on your ass but you made due. Better you than Miles and you’d gladly fend off Miguel for him if it meant he could find his way home to save his dad in time. Maybe it was a selfish part of you that wished something for him that you wanted to have, or maybe you truly just wished only the best for the younger variant.
Either way, Miguel was kicking your ass instead of his and you could live with that.
The 2099 Spider-Man choke slammed you onto the cold, hard metal of the futuristic locomotive and pinned you there by a hand around your neck.
“Can’t you see?! He’s the original anomaly! He’s not meant to be here! He is not Spider-Man!” The man snarled in your face. The anger he was feeling making his fangs appear and he sneered down at you, bearing them ferociously.
“He’s more Spider-Man than you’ll ever be!” You retaliated, attempting any sharp words pointed enough to cut him deep and painful. And you watched as his face turned and grew solemn for only one second before he was darkening his expression and snarling at you again.
“I hate to do this to you, but I can’t lose you over this!” He yelled over the roaring grind of the moving train. And your heart fell to your toes when he beared his fangs again— this time with a wide open mouth. A second later he was lunging forward intent to inject your body with venom.
You thanked whatever god above was listening for your much quicker reflexes as you caught him by the lower jaw and redirected his lunge to the air beside you instead.
Then you were bringing your legs up and forcing him away from you, not wasting a second you shot a web to the top car of the locomotive. You pulled yourself all the way up to where Miles had perched himself, and just before you could get a word out Miguel erupted out of nowhere and tackled Miles down.
You moved to help but got a web wrapped around your wrist instead, whoever shot it pulled you off your feet and then you found yourself under Peter B. Parker and Mayday instead.
“[Y/Name], enough!”
“No!”
“You can’t change destiny!” He argued, just as Miguel had done before, pinning you to the ground— though Peter’s was less of an attempt to capture you and just in a way to get you to listen to him.
“We control our own destiny Peter.”
“This’ll put the multiverse in danger! If you’d known your father would’ve been killed that night would you have saved him even if it meant there was an off-chance of your dimension being destroyed?!” Peter was just trying to reason with you now, and you stared directly into his warm brown eyes as you answered him.
“Without question.”
Peter drew back a bit at your response, then you watched behind him as Miguel flew overhead. That was your cue, so you grabbed Peter’s shoulders and utilized the enhanced strength of your specialty skills to push him off you.
Not enough to hurt him or Mayday but enough to give you space to escape, which you did. Once given enough breathing room to leap you leapt, jumping from the locomotive to fly through the air instead. Miles followed you, and Miguel was right behind.
You didn’t get much of that end of the chase, swinging directly to the headquarters and sneaking in past Kess and standing on the platform the machine usually used to send variants back to their proper dimensions.
It was minutes later when the machine suddenly came to life and you watched as the numerous screens turned on, looking a little closer you saw that it was Miles and that he was using his invisibility power to get the machine up and going.
Seconds later you felt his presence land beside you, and as the mechanical spider above lowered down and began creating the web to send Miles home and consequently you to his universe— Miguel erupted through the glass doors like a bat out of Hell.
And you stood back and watched as he sprinted to the platform’s edge, leapt over the gap and began furiously clawing at the web’s exterior.
Just as he was pulling it apart, the sequence completed and you and Miles were lifted into the air as the portal was created before the machine was throwing the two of you through the multiverse and into Miles’ universe.
• After the exhausting and frustrating chase, and even more annoying escape you and Miles had made.. you decided to follow him to his dimension, if only just to see that he’d be okay
• But he took off the second he was back in his own universe (or so you thought) and you were quick to follow, calling out his name in an attempt to get him to slow down but he did not listen
• So you just followed as he swiftly made his way to his apartment, only upon arrival you decided it might be best if you stayed outside which is exactly what you did, and you listened as he told his mom the truth and she responded with a question of her own not knowing who he was referring to
• When your spider senses started tingling uncontrollably is when you though something might be wrong so you webbed yourself to the roof of the building directly across Miles’ apartment and just observed from there
• As you watched him interact with a man that you assumed was his uncle your senses tingled again only it was too late to react when a muscled arm wrapped around your waist and a gloved hand covered your mouth, and then you were pulled backwards and through the portal into another dimension
• Upon arrival at the new universe you were pinned to the ground on your stomach by a heavy weight much larger and much stronger atop you, holding your arms in the small of your back and forcing you tighter against the ground
• You knew it was Miguel and you knew that unlike back at headquarters this pinch would be tighter to get yourself out of— so you didn’t intend to fight against him, you’d already done more than enough for Miles and on the off chance he still needed you then and only then would you fight for him again
• Until then, you’d accepted the fact you’d been captured, so you slumped to the rain soaked concrete of the building’s roof, and as you lay there you could only hope Miles had reached his father on time
a/n: Feel like it got kinda lame at the end but I hope you enjoyed the first post of the blog regardless! I’m super excited to get this blog started! Spiderverse is my hyper-fixation right now so that’s what I’ll be focusing on for a moment! Again, hope you enjoyed! Ciao!
3K notes · View notes
artiststarme · 7 months
Text
Dead or Alive
After Spring Break, no one could find Eddie Munson dead or alive. His Uncle Wayne, the angry mob, even the police couldn’t locate him so everyone assumed he was dead. Some grieved his loss but most celebrated his apparent demise believing it to be what he deserved after killing Chrissy, Fred, Patrick, and Jason and hurting poor Max Mayfield.
Once the town recovered enough, Wayne bought a headstone for an empty grave and dutifully washed off the new graffiti that appeared each day. The kids of the Party mourned the loss of their idealistic Dungeon Master and disbanded Hellfire Club out of respect to him. And Robin and Steve disappeared to Steve’s empty house to grieve the loss of a friend (or so it seemed).
Because while everyone thought they were grieving and finding support in each other, they were actually caring for Eddie’s wounds and watching gay movies on Steve’s couch. They are junk food, cuddled in front of the TV, and appreciated being alive.
Steve couldn’t be around the party because he was supposed to be broken-hearted but it was the opposite. While he left the Upside Down the most recent time with more scars, both mental and physical, it also gave him everything he’d ever wanted. It took him away from the job he hated, gave him more time to spend with Robin, and it gave him a prospective boyfriend.
He felt bad keeping Eddie a secret away from the kids and his uncle but he had no other choice. Until he and Robin could brainstorm a logical explanation for his innocence and return from the dead, it’d be the three of them in hiding. Which to him, wasn’t a bad thing. Between the love of Robin and Eddie, his house felt less like a crypt and more like a home.
After a few weeks, they’d all gotten used to their solitary. Imagine their surprise when someone walks in on the three of them watching the Rocky Horror Picture Show right on the scene of Rocky showing off his fishnet clad calves. Imagine Officer Phil Callahan’s horror when his eyes landed on an injured homicidal maniac sitting half on his brother’s lap while drooling over Tim Curry. And imagine Steve’s mortification when his brother stood unmoving in the doorway of the living room with one hand on his hip and the other held over his open mouth in shock.
“WHAT IN THE FUCK IS EDWARD MUNSON DOING IN OUR PARENT’S LIVING ROOM?!” Phil shrieked, his face going red in barely concealed rage.
Steve, Eddie, and Robin all spoke at once.
“Is he? Oh my goodness, I didn’t notice. Steve, Eddie is in your house!”
“It’s just Eddie, you piece of shit.”
“Ok technically, I can explain.”
Phil just looked at them like all three of them were insane. “HE’S A KILLER!”
“No he’s not. He’s just a metalhead, Phil.”
“What is that supposed to do with anything, Steve?! I don’t care that he’s a metalhead, I care that he murdered at least three people in a week!”
Steve shot up from his seat so he was nearly eye-level with Phil. “Woah, he did not! I was with him the entire week and neither of us killed anyone.”
Phil just shook his head in confused exhaustion. “Is he dangerous?”
Steve looked him directly in the eye, “no! He didn’t do anything and he’s one of my best friends now.”
“Fine. I’m not dealing with this shit tonight. You,” he pointed at Eddie, “don’t kill anyone. And Steve, do not wake me up before ten AM unless someone is getting killed. Jesus Christ.”
He stomped up the stairs, grumbling under his breath the entire way. Meanwhile, Steve sat back down next to Eddie and gave him a small smile. “Well, that went better than expected.”
Eddie looked at him in disbelief, “did it Steve? Did it?”
(It, in fact, did not. The next morning, Steve had to tackle Phil away from the phone when he tried to call the chief and then had to hold him down while Robin rambled the entire story in an impressive four minutes. He only gave up once Steve threatened to disappear himself and Eddie (and Robin) forever without ever contacting Phil again.)
Should I make this into a longer fic? Let me know in the comments please!
1K notes · View notes
kitashousewife · 6 months
Note
hii idk if I missed it but did u ever expand on the sakusa perfume ad thought 👀
YES please let me do so (sorry this is so late)
—————
“yes, that’s perfect. right here,” the photographer snaps another shot, clicking sounds echoing through the small set as sakusa lets out an exhale.
really he’s not sure why he agreed to this. some new perfume line contacted the team a few months back, talking about some sort of collaboration to boost each others popularity. a few phone calls later and now, most of the teammates have had their turn behind the camera.
sakusa was last. he really didn’t want to. he was flattered, a little flustered that they thought he would be good for a perfume ad. he’s seen them this whole life, casting movie stars and other famous athletes. the mere fact that he’s now at that level is mind blowing enough.
but now that he sits here, uncomfortably warm and sick of the attention, he’s thinking maybe it isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
until you call him.
you’re in your local grocery store, picking up things for the week after work. thoroughly worn out, you grab a magazine from the racks while in the check out line to pass the time. your fingers flip through aimlessly, completely unaware of the contents of the glossy pages, until you are.
staring back at you is sakusa kiyoomi. head rested in his palm, in a partially unbuttoned black silk shirt, with a bottle of cologne to his lips.
you almost shut the magazine. your body feels warm, your head spins. almost ripping it open again, you stare right back at the photo. his jaw is sharp, and his milky skin glistens behind the shiny bottle. and his eyes, they feel like he’s staring right at you. before you can think twice you’re shoving the tabloid onto the belt, and begin to try to catch your breath.
“hell-“
“kiyoomi,” your voice sounds apprehensive, strained even.
“what? i just got back from practice, i need to sh-“
“we’ve been friends for over ten years and you forgot to tell me that you were in a fucking cologne ad?”
sakusa about chokes before he slams the mute button on his phone. he completely forgot, he hadn’t even been told by the marketing team that the ads were out. he feels embarrassed, suddenly worried about everyone in the entire world seeing a completely different side of him than normal.
but he’s also curious.
part of him wished this would happen. while he was staring down the lens of the camera, the thought did cross his mind about how you specifically would react.
he can’t help but find out.
“it slipped my mind i guess, i’ve been busy,” he sets his phone on the kitchen counter. “kinda cool, huh?”
you don’t even know what to say. the most beautiful photo of the prettiest man you’ve ever met is in front of you, and his raspy voice is coming through your phone, making for an incredibly distracting combination.
“you look so irritated,” your voice is quiet. sakusa smirks, only slightly.
“i was. i was there for hours,” his smirk grows for a moment. “i think there’s going to be a short video ad, too.”
you rub your temples. your mind is blank. you’ve always thought sakusa was handsome, but not like this. your tongue feel heavy in your mouth, and you can’t stop staring.
“a-and what do you think of it? what did your mom say?”
sakusa shorts at the desperate conversation change attempt. “she had a fit, you know how she is.”
the thought of how could she not crosses your mind, and thankfully you don’t say it out loud.
“well, it’s really something. congrats, omi,”
sakusa smiles. “thanks,” he can hear you sigh on the other end. “everything okay over there?”
no. “y-yeah, yeah, just fine,” you shut the magazine and toss it onto the coffee table.
“staring at my picture?”
“n-no!” you’re quick, and sakusa laughs.
“miss me that much? jeez, want me to come sign it for you too?”
you pause. he laughs out loud. “shut up, omi,” you groan. “i’ll see you friday anyway, for motoya’s dinner,”
“okay, see you then.”
he hangs up, and he can’t help but snicker to himself. he can’t wait to see you on friday now. and, he even has the shirt from the shoot.
he decides he’s going to wear it, just for you.
503 notes · View notes