#ask team talon

[bombz-n-bluntz]

Talon took Hog's and I's posturing seriously

[screamforyani]

cariño

warnings ↠ dubcon-ish?, enemies with benefits, handjob, edging, implied intercouse towards the end

a/n ↠ i know this is very out of the blue but i watched atsv and i cant get miguel out of my head

wc. 1.1k

“untie me,” hissed miguel, fangs jutting as his blood-thirsty eyes followed you. 

you let out a hollow laugh the second those words escaped his mouth and met his penetrating stare. to say you and and miguel were enemies would be an understatement. there was something about this guy that irked you in the worst way, but could also turn you on like no other.

the feeling was mutual. you’d never admit a word of this if it wasn’t - not even to yourself. you and miguel had a weird thing going on, the sort of thing where the line between hate and lust grew thinner with each dark, loathing stare he shot you. 

maybe you’d had his cock in you a couple of times. twelve, to be exact, though not that you were counting (because you totally weren’t). not your proudest moments, but the sight of him on his knees, tangled in a weaving of webs made you forget it. his muscles bulged with every endeavor to free himself from your little trick. which was hilarious, because if they were any tighter, they’d burst right through his spandex. 

not that you were complaining. 

“hm, let me think about it,” you hummed, pretending to be deep in thought. “no.”

“i said - untie me. now,” miguel roared, as if it would make any difference. 

you crouched before him, pouting. “what’s the matter, spider-man? can’t handle other people telling you no? you don’t get to be the boss of everyone, cariño.”

you waved your finger in his face, to which miguel responded to with a lean forward as if he were going to bite your wrist off, but you were too quick. 

“woah there, bitey,” you taunted. “get it? that rhymes with spidey. hilarious, don’t you think?”

miguel spat, “you annoy me.”

“it’s a pleasure,” you said, merely grinning. then, you pointed to the extended talon behind his back where his hands were tied, asking, “can i borrow that? thanks.”

you used his talons to poke a hole in the lower half of his suit, promptly tearing at the spandex until the hole expanded. miguel wasn’t exactly pleased, not yet anyways, barking, “what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“more than you deserve,” you whispered, widening the gap until his half-hard cock was freed. that you inevitably already saw. for obvious reasons, it was difficult for spider-men to conceal their hard-ons. “you guys freeball under these suits? that’s crazy. i mean, not that you’re gonna catch a hard-on fighting the spot, but you never know. i mean, what if some really sexy villain just hits… the spot. get it? the-”

“the spot. yes, i get the joke. shut the hell up,” miguel grumbled, irritated.

you giggled. his annoyed face was too hot. of course, you were riling him up on purpose.

licking a line down your palm, you gently grabbed his cock, stroking him in your hands while looking him in his angry eyes. you saw his features tense, the part that didn’t want to be angry surfacing. the part that wanted to be relieved.

that was all that was wrong with this cranky guy. he just needed some relief in his life, and who better to provide it to him than you, the spider-person he never wanted on this team in the first place but took in because jess had insisted you could be useful. and you were, in more ways than one. not that miguel would ever admit that, though.

“fuck,” miguel grunted, writhing again, though not in an attempt to escape. you knew how to pleasure him and that was your saving grace, but you also knew how to tease. “could you be any slower with that?”

“i could, actually. watch this,” you retorted, now pumping him in no particular hurry. you had time to waste.

your leisure movements were killing miguel slowly. literally. he groaned, “well, could you go any faster?”

“i could,” you repeated with a lilt. “but you’d have to say the magic word.”

“go faster!”

you gave him a mocking frown. “i don’t think that’s it, o’hara.”

“do i have to?”

“do you want to cum?”

miguel winced his eyes closed, heaved a huge sigh, and huffed, “please, go faster.”

“wow, you hit the lottery,” you said, quickening your pace. you loved watching his brows furrow with pleasure, sweat beading at his face.

miguel bit his lip, wanting to be mad at how you satisfied him. it reminded you of when he was buried balls deep inside of you, his weight resting on top of your chest while his teeth clamped into your shoulder, not for the purpose of extracting blood but to smother the sounds of pleasure that escaped him when your cunt was squeezing his dick. almost like he would rather die than let you know you were good for something.

it didn’t matter, though. the telltale signs of arousal manifested themselves in plentiful ways from his body, like the taut ache in his pants when you turned him on a little too much. he got so hard for you, it was ridiculous.

and you were having a ball (you were tempted to make a joke, but resisted for his mental sake). there was something about having an insanely large, strong man who could potentially crush you to smithereens squirming at your mercy. it made warmth spread through your chest and the slyest grin curl onto your lips.

miguel’s hips were thrusting into your palm, an obvious sign that he was on the brink of climax. you’d come to know it by now - he started to lost control, the reins slipping out his hands. and you loved it. you loved how he was a slave to his urges and not the other way around.

“you almost there?” you asked, in spite of being fully aware. 

miguel offered you no words, but the look on his face and his unstill, restless body said enough.

that was when you got the bold idea to withdraw your hand at the very last second, depriving him of what could have been. his wrath was instant. you saw his hips flail in a desperation you’d never seen of him before, his fluttering eyes snapping open to cut at you.

“oopsies,” you sang, smiling innocently.

that was the very last straw for miguel and he broke out of your restraints, having enough of playing weak. you gasped, caught off-guard when he switched on a dime, throwing you against the ground and hovering over you. you parted your lips to speak, but he was quick to shoot a web over your mouth. 

“you talk too much,” miguel growled, cutting your own spandex with his talons, and was pleased to find you were very wet. he fixed himself between your thighs, leaning into your ear to whisper, “and for the record, nobody decides if i cum, cariño.”

[samkerrworshipper]

nails | katie mccabe x reader

warnings: absolute smutty filth, cunnilingus, dildos, strap ons, fluffiness

Katie clunked her way through the hallway, so incredibly desperate just to set her eyes on you. She had just gotten back from Ireland camp, and you were always the best part of returning. You made her feel at home, no matter where she was. The warmth of your smile, the way you made any room light up, the way your body felt against hers, the way you did absolutely everything to make Katie feel like she was as exceptional as you thought she was. She slung her bag down next to the front door, slipping her shoes off and toeing them onto the rack that you had put beside the door to try and organise Katie’s slightly excessive shoe collection.

You heard the front door closing behind her, and felt an overwhelming happiness wash over you. You waited patiently by the stove top, stirring the pot of Carbonara, one of Katie’s favourites, your dish almost done and ready for the two of you to sit down and eat. You always loved to welcome Katie home with a meal that reminded her of home, reminded her of family and memories with you. The carbonara was an old recipe of her mothers, that had been given to you when Katie had sustained an ankle injury and had been specifically yearning for her family and her mothers food. You’d tried your hardest to make the house as homey as possible, lighting candles all over your lounge room and kitchen, folklore playing faintly in the background, most of the lights turned down so that the house was nice and calm. It was always smartest to stimulate Katie as little as possible after camp, she was so tired, so overworked, so sore from the tireless work of captaining her team fearlessly, when she came home you tried to let her be as vulnerable with you as she needed.

You shivered a little bit when Katie’s arms wrapped around your waist, around one of her hoodies that she’d left you with as a reminder of her. She pressed her head into your neck, taking a deep breath of you, your scent, your warmth, your body, you. She could get drunk off of just your scent, off of your energy, you were absolutely everything to her, everything to her in every single universe.

“Smells good.”

Katie’s voice was a rumble against your neck, an almost silent murmur quietened by the skin her lips were pressed against. She pressed a litter of pecks across the skin, finding solace in the feeling of your golden skin.

“It’s almost done.”

Katie slipped her hands under her hoodie that you were wearing, there was nothing she loved more than seeing you in her clothes, you went from a 10 to an 11 when you chose to adorn one of her old Ireland hoodies or jerseys when you came to watch her play. She raked her hands up and down your hips, positively enraptured by the feeling of having you back in her arms. All of a sudden though, you pivoted on your heels, turning with wide eyes to look at Katie, one of your own hands dropping to grasp hers and drag it out from under the material, revealing something absolutely treacherous.

“What the fuck are these?”

Katie’s lip rose up into a smirk, the tips of her lips curving upwards as she studied the complete shock and horror that had washed over your face, your eyes searching her hands furiously as you took in Katie’s new addition.

“Whatcha talking about darl?”

You glared at Katie, pulling her hand up to her own face so she was forced to look at the monstrosities that were now attached to your girlfriend.

“Are you cheating on me?”

Katie’s face dropped at your accusation.

“Darling of course not, why would you ask that?”

Katie Irish drawl was heavy as she rushed to defend herself, you just glared back at her.

“Girlfriend code, we don’t do long nails, what the actual fuck are these?”

You glared at Katie’s bright green, glittery talons. They were quite pretty, you could admit that, but they were fucking long, and terrifyingly sharp looking, the square cut gel reflecting and staring back up at you like a wild animal about to attack.

“We all got them after the Albania game baby, to celebrate, what was I supposed to do?”

Your eyes widened in absolute shock and annoyance at your girl's puppy dog eyes.

“Say no, say that your girlfriend is going to make you sleep on the couch until you go and get them removed.”

Katie’s pout only grew bigger, her eyes positively shining as she bit her lip and frowned at you.

“Baby, are you scared that I can’t pleasure you without my hands?”

Your breath hitched in your throat as your eyes almost burst open with the implication from Katie’s words.

“If you think that I’m letting you anywhere near my pussy with those things as extremities than your fucking wrong McCabe, I’m serious about you sleeping on the couch until their removed from your body.”

Katie just rolled her eyes, wrapping her arms around your waist only for you to shake them off and turn back to the stove, returning to stirring the pasta and sauce mix in the pot.

“Baby, you are seriously doubting my abilities if you think that I rely on my fingers to make you happy.”

The sex when Katie got back from camp was incomparable, absolutely exquisite. The two of your bodies just connected, and when you’d been away from each other for extended periods of time re learning the feeling of each other's body was always unbeatable, there was a relaxed rhythm to it, something so incredibly beautiful and real about it. It was raw, sometimes there were tears, or sweet nothings whispered under the light of the stars and confessions of love. It was everything that the poets wrote about, everything that you heard about when your grandparents told you about falling in love with someone. That was why you felt so royally betrayed in this moment, you could never be mad at Katie for very long, even on the days she decided to be a complete dickhead, but right now you were pissed off and if Katie was smart she would have left you alone, but she decided to push it.

She entwined her hands around your waist, hanging them loosely below your hips and before you could protest, pressing her lips to your neck and beginning to suck on the skin. You froze at the complete shock from the sensation, there was nothing you wanted more than to give in, but the stubbornness in your veins wouldn’t allow you too. You shook Katie off of your body.

“The table is set, I’m about to plate up, go and sit down.”

Your verse was stern, almost mom-like, something that sent shivers down Katie’s spine and had her heading directly towards your dining table, in an uncharacteristically shy manner. She hated when she pissed you off, hated it even more when it was for particularly stupid reasons.

She wasn’t left by her lonesome for long, you followed her to the table fairly quickly, two bowls of pasta and garlic bread in your hands. You carried them like a waitress, a talent that Katie had never been sure how’d you’d acquired but she was grateful all the same. You placed her bowl down in front of her before taking your own seat, directly across from Katie.

“So, how was the flight?”

As much as you were ticked off with Katie, dinner was always a truce. It was the half an hour every night that the two of you had to yourselves, where you could talk about your day or the game or anything else that was going on. It was what you and Katie had agreed on when you’d gotten married, that no matter how hard either of your days had been, you would always sit down for dinner together.

“We had some turbulence, but it was fine.”

Katie was quick to tuck into her meal, she always was, you swore she was always hungry.

“How are you feeling, body, arm, head? I could have picked you up from the airport if you needed me too.”

You were constantly worried about Katie. As the Arsenal physio, and as her wife. You hated always being the worried wife on the sidelines, especially watching games like the Albania one were the conditions were anything but playable.

“I didn’t want to bother you, the tricep is sore and I have to go get scans tomorrow just to check that it hasn’t worsened any more.”

You nodded, you already knew that, you were Katie’s physio, you were consulted on all of her medical things but it comforted you somehow hearing anything come out of Katie’s mouth, you could spend hours just listening to her voice filling a room.

“You’d never bother me, better than you catching an uber or whatever.”

Communication with Katie was an ongoing work in progress, even years into your relationship she still struggled to voice her needs sometimes. She was just the kind of girl who always worried about everyone but herself, she was always obsessed with putting your needs above her own, and it drove you insane sometimes.

“It was fine, Lucy dropped me home. How have the pups been?”

You and Katie fell into comfortable conversation whilst you ate, talking about your work with the acl crew and Katie’s work with the Irish team, it was a comfortable lull, just pure interest between the two of you.

“I’ve set up a movie and snacks on the couch.”

The topic arose when the both of you had finished with dinner, Katie had tried to pick up the dishes but you refused, it was her night to relax and you were happy to deal with the dishes for one night.

Katie padded off to the lounge room and you rushed into the kitchen, rising off the dishes and sliding them into the dishwasher as quickly as humanly possible before jogging through to the living room to join Katie on the couch.

She welcomed you with open arms, draping the blankets over your body before clicking play on Happy Gilmore. You let Katie take the lead on wrapping her arms around you, her long strong arms enveloping you and making you seem like a dwarf in her arms.

You didn’t even make it through the starting credits before Katie’s hands started to roam, her nails travelling down from your hips, to your sweatpant covered thighs, then back up to your covered hips and ribs, slowly raking up and down. It was so slow that it was almost unnoticeable, especially underneath the fluffy blanket that the two of you were enjoying, but you felt it. You tried to ignore it, didn’t allow your body to react to Katie’s clear want, but when her hands made it to the inside of your thighs you couldn’t help but pivot from off of your ass, up onto your knees and straddling Katie’s hips.

“I told you no until those talons aren’t a part of you.”

You tried to keep your face as stern as possible, the voice you used with the girls on the team when you were working them through their pt plans in the gym.

“Baby, you can’t be serious, do you really think that I can’t please you without using my hands?”

You kept your face stern, even with the slightly taboo topic that Katie was broaching, that would normally have you breaking out into a fit of giggles or smiles.

“Katie, those things are fucking terrifying, what are they, one, two inches?”

You pulled her hands up again, measuring the lengths of her nails besides your own fingers, the extra extensions on her fingers almost being as long as the distance between your first knuckle and second one. It was terrifying, the kind of nails that drag queens wore. Katie and you had never had this issue, the both of you worked in professions that meant you couldn’t have long nails. Yours was personal preference, considering the amount of massages you gave every day it was just easier to keep your nails short, and normally Katie’s nails were short for football, so this problem had never arose, but now it was and it was horrific.

“Baby, there are things in our drawer that are far bigger, I never would have seen you as being scared of a little size, especially considering our dildo collection.”

You flushed at Katie’s cocky words, it was true, you weren’t exactly a stranger to bigger sized… toys, but her nails were hardly toys, they were fucking weapons.

“Katie I am not joking.”

She smirked from her position below you, a big broad grin that you so desperately wanted to kiss off of her face, but you kept your self restraint.

“But baby, I got you a new one whilst I was away, Ireland green like my nails.”

You shivered directly from your core, straight up to your spine, the trembles crossing across every bone and nerve in your body.

“Katie, go to your room.”

She rolled her eyes at your attempt at chastising her, she knew that you were on your last thread, so close to being tipped over the edge, she was so good at doing that, compromising you when you least wanted to.

“But baby, don’t you want to show me how good you can ride my dick?”

As soon as the words left her mouth you were a goner, and she knew it, she was so fucking cocky like that.

“Katie.”

Your words came out as a whine, something that Katie was slightly satisfied with but also took as her cue.

“What do you call me, baby? Don’t whine at me, you want me to show you how good I am without my hands? Then let me baby, let me treat your pussy so well and prove to you that I definitely don’t need my hands to please my wifey.”

Katie’s thick Irish accent was laid on so deep, just the way that made you drip from your core and everywhere.

“Daddy.”

This time you were rewarded by being silenced with her lips, her hips reaching upwards to meet your own, so she had the leverage to kiss you. It was a dominating kiss, one that Katie very quickly took control of, her tongue slipping into your mouth and brushing against the back of your mouth as she roughened the kiss and started to find rhythm in the movements against your lips. It was then, when you were at your very weakest that Katie’s hand reached up under your shirt, swiftly un-clipping your bra and her hands going directly to your nipples, toying with the metal bar almost immediately. It had been Katie’s idea for you to get them, and you happily agreed once you realised just how much it would please her. The process had been painful, and the recovery had been hell, but once they had healed they had easily become Katie’s favourite part of you. She loved every part of you, but absolutely no part of your body would compare to your boobs. One tug at the cold metal had you moaning openly into her mouth, it was almost embarrassing, the amount of control Katie had over you even from below you, but right now you weren’t really bothered, just completely obsessed with the feeling of having Katie’s undivided attention on you.

“Get up baby, let me get on my knees for you and show you exactly what this mouth can do.”

Katie removed her lips from your mouth pushing you up off of her hips so you were flung down onto the couch, Katie slipping off of the pillows and down onto the floor, directly onto her knees and not minding very much about the fact that her body seemed to ache a little bit more from her position. She didn’t waste any time thinking about her achy muscles though, instead getting straight to work and pulling your legs apart so she could sit in between your legs.

She reached for the hem of your sweatpants, finding absolutely zero pushback from you as you lifted up our hips to allow her to slip the pants and your thong out from under you. She was remwarded with the positively dripping sight of your pussy, your desire glistening all over your lips and the trimmed bush that covered your mound.

“So wet baby, and I haven’t even touched you, going to show you just how much I can do without these fingers.”

Katie’s hand snaked its way back up your stomach, finding it’s way back up to your boob and fondling it gently with her fingers and blunt nails. The sensation was amazing, something that you would never even dream of feeling.

“Katie please- just fucking do something.”

Katie’s eyes darted up to you, her head cocking at you.

“Baby, I know that you haven’t seen me in a few weeks, but that’s no way to ask me to help you out, you can either do it the nice way, and beg like a good girl, or you’ll get nothing at all.”

Katie’s spare hand fell to your thigh, kneading the skin gently with her thumb, looking up at you with patient eyes and a cocked eyebrow.

“Please daddy, please, please use your tongue on me and show me how good you can make me feel, please.”

Normally, when Katie was feeling like being a little bit tougher, when she was being calculated and cunning about riling you up she’d asked for more, but neither of you had the energy or patience for that, tonight just wasn’t one of the nights where you would do laps of teasing, tonight was about you having your brains fucked out by a very horny Katie.

“Such a good girl when you use your words, hmm?”

The feeling of Katie’s breath on your dripping warmth was incredible, but it was nothing compared to the feeling of her tongue connecting with your lips. Just because she didn’t feel like riling you up verbally didn’t mean that she wasn’t up to riling you up with her tongue, and she did just that. She started with the outside of your lips, her tongue flattening out to cover as much skin as possible, which should have been amazing, but it was nowhere near enough stimulation for you, and you told her as much with your hand securing on the roots of her ponytail and trying to direct her to the part of you that yearned for her the most.

Katie didn’t budge though, she was stubborn and didn’t let anyone boss her around in the bedroom, especially you. She pulsated her tongue against your skin, leaving you desperatw for more, and just when she began to feel your thighs clenching, seeking more, she finally met your pool of wetness.

You cried out in ecstasy, the sound of your moans filling your living room as your hands found whatever part of Katie, clutching onto her and holding on for dear life, enjoying the ride that was your pleasure high.

Katie’s tongue moved back and forth from your hole and sensitive bud, her intensity and approach changing between the two spots as she towed you closer to the edge, your moans and clenching hole a clear sign of the ecstasy cloud that you were approaching. Just as your moans started to get breathier, and your legs started to tighten around Katie’s head, did she remove her mouth. It was absolute agony for you, and you let her know with the annoyed cry that left your lips as soon as she lost contact with you.

“Fuck, Katie, fuck, not fair, was so close, fuck me.”

Katie smirked up at you, she knew that you wouldn’t love her for leaving you on the edge, but she also knew the two of you were far too tired to go for multiple rounds, and she wanted to rock your world in multiple ways before the both of you collapsed for the night, and if that meant depriving you of your orgasm once, then she wasn’t completely opposed.

“Go to the bedroom, strip on the bed, I think it’s about time I introduce you to our new friend.”

Even though you felt slightly legless on your fucked out body, you rushed off towards the master bedroom, terrified that if you took too long you would be robbed of whatever it was that Katie had planned for you. You flung her hoodie off and onto the floor of your bedroom, not really bothered whatsoever about the uncleanliness of your actions and more concerned with the wetness that was now dripping down your legs, a mixture of Katie’s slobber and your own arousal.

Just as you had climbed onto the bed, Katie sauntered in, and you swore that your eyes almost popped out of your head at the sight that you were gifted with, it was truly a picture worthy of being hung in the Louvre.

Your wife, standing butt ass naked in front of you, besides the deep Ireland green glittery dildo that was hanging from between her legs. You almost came just from the sight, a big lump developing in your throat as Katie strutted towards you. There was a lot to take in, the fact that she’d seemingly coordinated her nails with the dildo, or vice versa. The fact that it looked about two inches longer than anything you’d ever taken, and at least an inch wider, and the image that was Katie walking like a model on a runway directly to you. She had the cheshire grin plastered to her face, it only grew the closer she got to your bedside.

“Move, I want you to ride me, you can use the head board as support.”

You just nodded at her, like a complete goldfish as you shifted away from the pillows to allow her to take a seat against the head board, the dildo jutting up shamelessly from the spot between her legs.

“C’mon cowgirl, don’t make me wait.”

You jumped into action, climbing into Katie’s lap and hovering on top of the dildo, securing one of your hands on the edge of the headboard and one on Katie’s shoulder. It was then that she began to push you down onto the silicone dick, slowly impaling you on the bright green toy.

“Ngnh, fuck Daddy, so good, fill me up please.”

Katie could never say no to you, especially when you asked so politely, so she continued to ease you down onto the dick, allowing you to feel every single ridge and bump across the shaft and feel the stretch that your pussy was very quick to adjust to and accommodate.

It didn’t take much force from Katie to get you to take the whole dick, the centre of gravity doing most of the work to get you down and sat directly onto Katie. Once your pussy did suck in the whole thing, Katie allowed you to adjust for as long as you needed, her lips meeting your own in a bruising kiss that left both of your lips kiss swollen when you broke a part to begin moving.

Katie’s favourite position was having you ride her, there was something so personal about it, and she loved the reaction that it got from you.

Your knuckles turned ghost white as you began to slide up and down the length of Katie’s dildo, moans that were more sinful then the devil flowing freely from your mouth as you started to ride her and grind down against her hips. Katie just watched in awe and complete appreciation, the sight of you, an absolute sexual goddess of her dreams sliding up and down a glittery green dildo was something that she never would have even thought up in her wildest dreams. Your head thrown back in ecstasy, your long blonde locks flying in every which way as you began to ride out the high that you’d been so desperate for.

“Fuck-fuck, daddy can I cum? Please fuck, please can I cum all over your dick?”

Katie figured that she’d edged you once, and whilst she knew you could withstand far more than that, it wasn’t what either of you needed tonight, you needed tender kisses, sweet nothings, soft gestures that the two of you always shared after a little bit too long apart.

“Cum baby, I’ve got you.”

If your knuckles hadn’t already been white against the headboard then they whitened even further, complete overwhelming white that seemed to cloud your vision and put stars across your eyes as you shuddered in Katie’s arms, the overwhelming feeling of your orgasm washing over you and leaving you completely limp in her arms. Once you’d come down and the aftershocks had rid themself of your body Katie very gently lifted you up off of the toy and placed your boneless body down on the comforter beside her, slipping the harness of her hips quickly and then wrapping her arms directly around you, allowing you to waken from your haze in the warmth of her muscles and body.

“What did I say, I’m a woman of great talents even when my hands aren’t in use.”

Katie’s joke fell on almost deaf ears, your body to blissed out to even truly begin to acknowledge what she was saying to you.

“Shove it McCabe, unless you don’t want round two in the morning before you go to the nail salon then I’d move to cuddling your wife and telling her just how much you missed her and just what was going through your mind when you were buying that dildo.”

Katie’s face lit up, her arms lifting the cuvet over your bodies as she began to whisper all of rhe deep fantasies that had been playing through her mind in the time that you’d spent apart, fantasies that you were sure would be reenacted in the morning or tomorrow night after some much needed tlc.

[corruptedcaps]

You’ll Do

Amy’s boss Mia was as cruel as she was beautiful & made Amy nervous whenever she was around. Despite this somehow Amy found the courage to interview as her replacement. For some reason Mia was leaving the company & hiring her own successor. Needless to say the interview went awful.

Adding insult to injury, Amy had to ride the elevator with Mia directly after the interview and Mia didn’t hold back on her comments.

“You see Amy you lack what I need in a successor, you don’t have the killer attitude needed to succeed. On top of that you have a terrible dress sense and are a 5 at best. Yes I could ‘improve’ you but why put lipstick on a pig when I could pick someone who needs little work at all.” Mia said with a sharpness to every word that plunged Amy into a deeper depression than she already was.

“That’s why I’m giving the job to Kali, she’s so perfect for the role I didn’t even interview her. Im going to meet her right now and by tomorrow she’ll be your new boss, although I’m sure she’ll remind you of me.” Mia continued with a knowingly smile.

Amy knew Kali and was dreading her promotion. She was no where near as bad as Mia but she was certainly only a few steps away. Knowing she would be taking over made Amy want to call in sick for the rest of the year.

However just as they were nearing their floor the elevator suddenly shunted to a halt, stopping dead. Amy just stood there, knowing she couldn’t do anything while Mia rolled her eyes.

“I’ll have the maintenance team hung for this.” Mia snarled as she took out her phone and contacted the elevator technician.

“2 hours? No this is unacceptable! I need to get to my meeting! I’ve already waited too long!” Mia screamed down the phone.

Amy had never seen Mia so agitated, she figured Mia had some sort of fear of tight spaces. Amy let herself have a brief smile knowing that Mia was human like the rest of them.

However as an hour passed without much progress, Amy started to get worried about Mia. She was sweating and pacing like crazy and even seemed to be twitching now and again.

“M-Mia it’s alright, we’ll be out of here soon. Just breathe.” Amy said calmly to her boss.

“Oh shut up you twit, this is beyond your understanding, this body is expiring and I need a new one!” Mia snapped back. She looked at her watch and fear etched her face.

“Oh fucking screw it, you’ll do.” Mia said and surely lunged at Amy who was too quick to react. Mia grabbed Amy’s face in her hands and planted her lips on her lowly employee’s.

Amy’s eyes went wide as she felt something slither from Mia’s mouth to her own and down her throat. Mia’s body went limp and collapsed to the ground. As it hit the ground it immediately turned to dust, leaving Amy to wonder what the hell just happened.

“Ugh I can’t believe I had to take your pathetic body.” Said a voice that sounded like it was coming from inside Amy’s head. It was a deep ethereal voice that sent shivers down her spine.

“W-who said that?” Amy nervously asked.

“Not that it matters but I have gone by many names. Abyzou, Hecate, Morrigan, and most recently, as you can see, Mia but you can call me Lilith, all others will call us Aimee, once I improve you of course.” The voice said with a cackle.

Before Amy could ask a follow up question, she doubled over in pain. Putting her hands on the glass mirrors of the elevator to steady herself, she watched as her nails grew long and sharp, like wicked talons.

Radiating down from there her pale skin turned sun kissed, as if she never spent a day in the office. The tan ran up her arms, making them tingle in pleasure in the process. Her body began to change as the tan ran down her figure. Every inch that it touched she felt a warm sensation that came also with a tightening of skin or modification of fat. Her boobs for instance once a meagre B cup ballooned out into an impressive pair of double d’s.

“Mmmm yesss this never gets old. This feels so fucking good doesn’t it Amy?” Lilith purred in Amy’s head. Amy wanted to plead with her to stop whatever magic she was doing but to her shame she found her pussy getting increasingly wet. It helped that it too changed, becoming tighter and more sensitive.

Staring at her shifting face, she watched as her lips grew into a bitchy pout, her hair became incredibly sleek and straight, and smoky makeup appeared on her eyes. It was now a face that commanded authority, a stern but sexy facade that would have others eating out of the palm of her hand either out of fear or of lust.

“I was going to take Kali’s body but now I’m glad I took yours. It’s been decades since I transformed Mia from the worthless house wife she was into a bitchy and powerful CEO, I forgot how much pleasure it gives me to turn a goodie goodie nobody into a wicked whore. Kali was too like me already but now I can’t wait to make that split bow down and lick our pussy.” Lilith said but this time the voice was starting to change. It was starting to sound eerily like Amy’s.

Amy for her part was feeling increasingly calm about the apparent devouring of her soul and merge with Lilith. As the seconds ticked by her mind was filled with wicked memories of Lilith through the centuries. She had been a witch, a queen, a faux goddess, a homewrecker, a trophy wife, a queenpin, and everything in between. The one constant was she was always in charge. For Amy, as someone who always took a backseat the idea of being on top scratched an itch she never knew she had.

“Oh god! Yessss! Kali will be our little simping slut! Change us more! Make us a hawt fucking bitch! Merge us into one!” Amy moaned loudly as she felt her new bigger tits with her perfectly manicured hands as the magic worked its way to her ass flairing it out. Her stomach crunched as it became slimmer and body toned all over to give her a delightfully flexible and athletic body.

Finally her demure gray work clothes became darker, tighter, and more revealing as they clung to her new body. Her pants hugged her legs as they became intimating leather and 6 inch heels sprang out of her flats lifting her to new heights. As the changes reached their apex, her eyes rolled back into her head as the two minds merged into one new evil persona.

“Mmmm much better. It was about time there was for a change in management.” Amy smirked to herself. As if on cue the elevator shunted to life again and finished its descent to the bottom. Amy picked up Mia’s left over purse and phone beside the pile of dust and took out lipstick from the bag.

Amy just finished applying a shade when the door dinger open and two sweaty maintenance workers stood there. Amy enjoyed their lingering looks at her ass as she capped the lipstick and put it back into her bag. She brushed past their stunned looks.

“Sorry miss but where is the CEO? She called us in a panic.” One blurted out. Stopping in her tracks Amy turned her head back to them.

“That’s me. I’m Aimee, the CEO of this company and if you so if you don’t want to lose your job I suggest you clean up that pile of first that’s in there immediately.” Aimee snarled back at them. The two men quickly jumped to attention.

Aimee however had already forgotten about them, she had her sights on a gorgeous woman sitting in the lobby looking anxiously around. Approaching Kali with all the menace of a predatory lioness, Aimee snuck up on her new lowly employee.

“Kali, what time do you call this?” Aimee said angrily. Kali looked up at was stunned to see who the voice belonged to.

“Amy? You look… wow. I’m waiting for Mia, she wanted to discuss something with me.” Kali said somewhat flabbergasted.

“Mia is no longer your concern. She has put me in charge and my first order of business is to hire you as my assistant. Follow me.” Aimee said strutting off back to the elevator where the men were finishing up. Aimee stood at the elevator door and beckoned Kali in.

“I- I don’t understand, I thought I was getting a promotion or something.” Kali said but Aimee just stared at her without saying a word. Kali felt the new bitch’s eyes burrow deep into her soul and she felt compelled to get into the elevator.

Aimee pressed the button for the executive suite and the doors shut sealing them in. Only once they were alone did Aimee finally speak again.

“This is a promotion, you get to taste the pussy of a goddess from now on. You’re going to be the executive simp. So kneel down like a good little slut.” Aimee said as she towered over Kali.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hi there! So i hope you dont mind me requesting the BB league elite four members + Kieran with a disabled reader who used to be a former BB league elite four member themself (Romantic for Drayton and platonic for the others)

So basically, the reader used to be the fifth ranked member of BB league elite four but after Kieran became the BB league champion, they lost their rank to Crispin and now is the sixth ranked member. Though, they dont have any hard feelings and still see the elite four members as their friends

the reader had an accident when they were younger and now uses a wheelchair to move around. They have a gardevoir who they raised since she was a ralts and now helps her trainer with stuff (so maybe there’s something the reader needs but it’s on the top shelf, Gardevoir will then just use psychic and bring it down for them or maybe the reader wanted to try walking with a cane, if the reader fall, Gardevoir will catch them with psychic) and a Hisuian Braviary to help them get to places in the terrarium (if some hisuian pokemon still exist in this generation, who’s to say that Hisuian Braviary still exist as well)

With permission from the director, Gardevoir was allowed out of her ball to help the reader which then leads to a misconception where people think the reader is a psychic type trainer due to Gardevoir and Hisuian Braviary, when in fact they’re not. They are actually a ghost type trainer but they never bother to clear the misconception bc its funny to see people’s faces when people see their ghost type team.

Hope you have a lovely day/night btw!

- 🪷 anon

Oooh in regards to Hisuian Pokemon, I have a hc that they are extremely rare and got isekai'd to the present via space-time distortion bubbles (like opposite of how Porygon and Johtonian Sneasel were transported to Hisui)

Anyways these hcs sorta took off on their own haha, so they're under the cut!

.....

Drayton

Despite being wheelchair-bound for most of your life, that never stopped you from joining the BB Elite Four and becoming the fifth ranked member practically overnight.

Around that time, you and Drayton were dating, and during his champion days, he always tried to make time for you and put his duties on the backburner.

He knows you value your independence and will only help you out with stuff if asked.

But usually it's your two psychic types that assist you. They don't battle much, but rather work as your medical support Pokémon.

Gardevoir, a sweet lass you've raised since she was a Ralts, uses Psychic to retrieve things for you that are just a little out of your reach in the store.

One good days, you could walk around with a cane...but if they turn bad (ie your chronic pain acts up) she'll use Heal Pulse as a temporary remedy.

She also pushes your chair around in case your arms get tired, taking you around to accessible spots.

Director Cyrano gave you permission to let her stay outside her pokeball 24/7 so she can properly work.

You also have a Hisuian Braviary--who literally travelled across time and space to meet you--that flies you around the Terarium, letting you climb on their back while their talons securely hold onto your folded chair.

With those two often out and about, there's a common misconception about you being the Elite Four's psychic specialist...when in reality you have a ghost type team.

Many challengers find that out the hard way when they clear your trial and send their ghosts against you....only for you to reveal your own ghostly duo that hit back twice as hard.

Drayton loves watching your matches from the sidelines and laughs every time he sees their shocked faces.

He even proposed an idea that your team should remain a mystery up until the moment of battle.

All is well until Kieran comes along and dethrones him, which demotes you to the sixth ranking member..while Crispin takes your spot.

It wasn't exactly a position you liked, since it's on the cusp of disqualifying you as an elite member.

But you weren't mad at anybody over this...if anything you had to make sure Drayton didn't get too mad at Kieran.

Eventually, though, he learns that he could spend more time with you and has less responsibilities on his plate (ofc he's still petty, as we all know during Indigo Disk).

Despite his lax personality, he wants to do all he can to support you and defend you from harassment.

This man would definitely find excuses to carry you around.

"Oh why don't cha give your Pokémon a break and let me help you over here?" He suggests and you end up accepting his offer, letting him carry you from your wheelchair to the sofa in the club room...which is literally five feet away.

Still, you let him do what he wants.

Plus getting to cuddle is a nice bonus.

Kieran

You once knew him as this sweet shy kid who used to be scared of your Hisuian Braviary, always asking if they're gonna hypnotize him.

"No, Kiki..they just help me get around places."

"...a-are you sure? Because they're starin' at me kinda weird.."

"That's how they normally are."

Plus he (like many students) falsely believed you had a psychic team when you're actually the Elite Four's ghost-type specialist.

He admired that "element of surprise" you brought to the table and dreamed of the day he could challenge you himself.

But one trip to his hometown and back later...he's suddenly the Champion, a shell of his former self, who only sees Pokémon as tools for battle.

You wonder what happened to him, although apparently he had a bad falling out with some exchange student and took his angst out on everyone at BBA.

Getting you knocked down to the sixth rank was something he never really apologized for.

Despite that, he didn't tolerate people who talked shit about you, your ranking, your medical condition, or why your Pokémon get to roam more freely than their own.

"At least [y/n] is still out there training their team every day. At least they're turning their hardships into strength. What's your excuse?"

"I-I didn't mean any offense, Kieran! Listen, I'll apologize to them and-"

"Oh, you will...after we have a battle so I can assess your strength. No potions. No moves that boost attack, speed, or defense. If you lose, you resign. You have one hour to prepare."

Sometimes, you're not sure if he's genuinely looking out for you...or if he just wanted an excuse to bully club members around.

While he's aware that Gardevoir and Hisuian Braviary are mainly your medical support 'mons, he still thinks they can always try out battling.

"They could be the ones who help you climb the ranks again [y/n]. Surely you're tired of being in last place, aren't you?"

Yet the advice he believes is helpful is usually unwarranted half the time.

You could just be casually talking to a friend about how your opponent out-sped you and/or used Light Screen/Reflect...

Only for Kieran to barge into the conversation with "well maybe you should've taught Braviary Tailwind/Defog..but I guess you don't have the time for that" or something passive-aggressive that just makes you both uncomfortable.

Your psychic types are honestly annoyed by his new attitude..and you're just disheartened by how he acts around Drayton now.

You and him dating never bothered Kieran before, but now he just glares at your bf 24/7 and scoffs loudly if you're talking about anything except battling.

Despite everything, you knew he was going through something difficult, so you tried not to take his words to heart. You still saw him as a friend.

Someone who was just misguided in his ambitions.

After his humbling defeat and adventure into Area Zero, he comes back with extreme guilt, with you being the first elite member he apologizes to.

He especially feels shitty for distracting your psychic types from doing their jobs properly with his constant nagging to battle them.

But you forgive him, thanking him properly for all the times he's stood up for you.

And you do end up taking some of his unsolicited advice.

You invite him to a friendly double-battle when he returns from break and brought out Braviary and Gardevoir, using Tailwind and terastalizing one of them into a ghost type.

It turns out that whenever they're not working, they battle in perfect sync.

Crispin

In the beginning, this chef boi wondered how your two psychic types help you with your daily life, and you just explain everything as simply as you could to him during a picnic.

"So Gardevoir pushes me around, retrieves stuff I can't reach, and helps me manage my pain. Braviary just flies me around the Terarium....any questions?"

"Just one......do you use Braviary because the taxis here don't accommodate your wheelchair?" He assumes, already starting to fume. "How outrageous! That's not-!"

"Calm down, Crispy..they do. I'm just saying that I'd rather fly with Brave most of the time. It's not only convenient, but more fun for me."

"...o-oh, right. Sorry for getting all fire-up back there.." He gushes.

After learning how hard they work, he absolutely wants to make sure they're fed well everyday! Snacks alone won't sustain them. He knows this for sure.

So he's always cooking them up something, often wanting their opinion on the meals and sandwiches: are they too spicy or not spicy enough?

The same goes for your ghost types, too (especially if you have a Chandelure, Ceruledge, and/or Skeledirge on your team).

But after Kieran becomes the new champion and Crispin takes your rung on the League's ladder..he feels really awful and constantly apologizes for pretty much replacing you.

He should feel good about climbing closer to the top, but he doesn't, as he cried over the possibility of you hating him forever or resigning from the club because of him.

When you confronted him, he tried blaming the onions.

But your Gardevoir--one of the most emotionally-intuitive Pokémon out there--saw through his lie, and you had to reassure him he was still your friend.

You kept telling him you weren't mad....until you almost got mad fr because he wouldn't stop asking if you were 100% sure of that.

To prove it you, your psychic pokemon, and your ghost team all split one of the spiciest sandwiches he's ever made.

By the time it was finished, you were convinced you just learned the move Flamethrower.

Yet seeing that bright smile return to Crispin's face made it worth the agony.

Lacey

She loves hearing that you have a Gardevoir (or just cute ghost Pokémon in general).

If you have a Mimikyuu on your team, that's a plus in her book.

But regardless, she's the first to give you a warm welcome into the Elite Four, explaining the criteria and tests you had to pass in order to be accepted as a member.

Yet even outside of battle, she quickly discovers that your ghosts are still mischievous at best--always playing pranks on her fairies with moves like Phantom Force, Shadow Sneak, Astonish, and Poltergeist.

Ofc they never mean any harm, but when she hears Whimsicott squeal in fright, she's quick to come to its rescue and scold the perpetrator.

If you have a Gengar, it just laughs and mocks them both until it hears you roll up like "that wasn't very nice, y'know...apologize to Lacey and Whimsicott right now, please".

Even if it's a little defiant, a glare from Gardevoir or Hisuian Braviary is enough to make it relent and apologize.

Speaking of whom, seeing an ancient variant of Braviary did frighten Lacey upon first meeting them (especially with their hypnotic-looking faux flaming "eyes").

But over time she grows to like them, seeing how obedient and gentle they are with helping you get you around the Terarium.

If you have any decal on your chair, she'll suggest adding a few more things to make it "cuter". Like stickers of fairy types or a soft pillow for your back.

When you get demoted to the sixth rank in the League, she bought you those exact things to cheer you up, feeling bad that things turned out the way they did

But you expressed zero grudges towards anyone and appreciated her kindness.

Her Granbull always offers his tummy to you should you wanna rest somewhere--even though this makes Braviary a little jealous bc they're supposed to be your favorite resting spot.

Their rivalry is amusing, but Gardevoir often has to come to her fellow psychic type's rescue.

Meanwhile you're just sitting back and snickering at their banter, while poor Lacey begs you not to encourage this behavior.

Amarys

When you both first met, you found her personality rather off-putting, assuming she was doubting your capabilities of being an Elite Four Member despite passing all the tests.

She never seemed happy for you, her face always blank.

Growing up, a lot of people have pitied you, given you odd stares, or thought you would've given up being a Pokémon trainer...and some even asked outright insensitive questions about what happened to you--and seeing how Amarys acted kinda brought some of those ugly memories back to the forefront.

But once she realizes this, she apologizes straightaway for giving you such a bad impression, clarifying that she fully believes in your battling abilities.

Since then, you've formed a better friendship with her.

She asks you respectful questions about your wheelchair (ie if it's made from any strong alloys, how well it gets you around the Terarium's biomes, etc.) and how Gardevoir and Hisuian Braviary aid you in your daily life and listens well.

Learning that you actually battle with ghost types despite the misconception circulating around the school wasn't too surprising.

If anything, Amarys believes that was quite strategic on your part.

It's no wonder you have a lot of victories under your belt.

Even after getting demoted to the sixth rank, she's impressed you're still able to bounce back from such defeat..and that you didn't hold it against Kieran or anybody.

She believes he could learn a lesson or two from you and not take his loss against Florian/Juliana so hard...but knows that's not her place to speak.

[alientee]

To Live Mauga x reader

I wrote this after reading a agnst Mauga fic it made me sad so I changed my past idea from slice of life to a fluffy moments with taking care of Mauga (gender neutral reader)

You didn’t ask Mauga a lot about his past, but you know it made him into the man he is today. As long as you’ve known him, he’s always had a carefree outlook on life. You’ve seen him angry, happy, horny, and even embarrassed.

But you had never seen him sad; nothing could wipe the usual smirk off his handsome face. To have a face of complete shock or dread was not something you were used to seeing. Mauga, the unshakable mountain of a man, was trembling, and you didn’t know what to do.

He came home distressed, covered in bandages. He took one look at you and instantly went to the bedroom, cooping himself up without saying a word. You made your way to the room to see the man you loved on the bed, slightly curled up, as if it would hide him from the world.

You went over to him and put your arms around him. He didn’t say anything; he didn’t even move. But somehow, you knew he didn’t want words; he just needed you. You continued to hold him, rocking him back and forth. And after an hour of that, he finally spoke.

“I almost died today." Your blood ran cold. Those are genuinely the last words you ever wanted to hear from him. You knew working for Talon would come with trouble, but being prepared for it was a whole different issue. You didn’t speak, deciding to wait and see if he’d continue.

“We had a mission to capture this dude. He owed Doom first a lot of cash. I should’ve known it would be bullshit when he sent the whole team. The guy we were chasing had us trapped like rats, trying to pick us off one by one. He had a lot of goons, too, until we finally caught up with him. The place was already torn down and still coming down on top of us. That asshole knew he couldn’t make it out, so he set himself off.”

You look at him, confused. “Set himself off?” Mauga nodded.

“He had bombs on his body, saying he wouldn’t give doom shit. He said he reached his goal, and he'd die knowing he did it with no regrets. I knew he was crazy, but I didn’t think he’d off himself before we could even capture him.”

Mauga leaned his head onto yours; he stayed quiet for a moment before placing his face on your shoulder.

“The whole building was coming down, and because I was the tank, I took the blunt hit off it. I was trapped behind the ceiling debris that fell. The whole building was falling apart; shit was on fire, and I was trapped. I thought I wasn’t gonna get out. When more of the ceiling fell on top of me, it broke open the floor. I fell through, but I had a chance. I had to crawl most of the way and use my guns to break whatever was blocking me off. I reached dead end after dead end, and I didn’t think I could get out. Shit was falling down on me, and I could barely breathe, and by the time I made it somewhere else, I thought it was another dead end until I dug through the debris and made it outside.”

You hugged him tighter, kissing his face all over. He had bruises all over his face. You kissed each of them softly, giving him an Eskimo kiss.

“I’m so glad you made it out, darling. I don’t know what I would have done if I’d lost you. My poor baby."

Mauga leaned into your touch, snuggling closer to your warmth. He kisses your cheek, finding his way back to your neck.

“Wanna know the most fucked up part when I got out. They were flying away, and the only reason they came back was because Sigma saw me and started waving, and Sombra came to look. They left me for dead, and I’m not even fucking surprised.”

You scowled “I’m not surprised either; I really wish you never joined Talon in the first place, but I know that as a mercenary, you have to do what you need to.”

He nodded while kissing your shoulder. He pulled you into his chest, and you rubbed your fingers over his bandaged arms.

“For the first time in a long time, I was afraid of dying. I promised myself after the heart surgery I’d live every day like it was my last; I just never thought that day would come as quickly as that. I was actually fucking scared of dying. I didn’t want to die that way, trapped and alone."

You held him tighter, and if you felt your shoulder getting wet, you didn’t say anything about it.

“I thought about you, how I couldn’t leave you, and how I had to get back to you. All I wanted to do was get back to the one person who gave a damn about me.”

“And you did. I’m so proud of you, my love.” You run your fingers through his hair and console him. "You're so strong. I know I worry about you a lot when you go on missions, but I never doubted that you would always come back to me."

You both hold each other while sharing sweet kisses and longing looks. Putting your foreheads against one another, Mauga squeezes your hips, bringing you closer.

“How about we take a bath together? I could look at your wounds, and after that, I’ll warm up dinner for you.”

Mauga nods, kissing your lips softly. “I’d love that, baby."

You got to the bathroom and ran the bath water. You can hear Mauga behind you getting undressed. You turn around and help him take off his wraps. He runs his hands through your hair, kissing your forehead as you slowly remove his bandages.

You couldn’t help but flinch at some of his wounds. You lift his hands, kissing each one of his knuckles. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You both stepped in the tub, but this time you got behind him. You take the shampoo and conditioner and start with his hair. He growled when you scrubbed his scalp; he always loved it when you played in his hair.

He growled and leaned his head back. As you rinsed his hair out, he leaned into you, kissing your jaw and neck. You softly push him away. “Let me wash your back.” He turned back around, letting you wash him.

“Wanna wash all of me?” You roll your eyes at him while he snickers.

“I’m not washing your butt, you dork," he playfully splashes you, causing water to get in your face and all over the floor.

"Oops"

After you both finish up, you dry off his hair, then clean and rewrap his wounds. He holds your waist the whole time, not giving you much room to move. “Do they hurt really bad?”

He gives you a pout, nodding his head. "Yup, kiss em for me?” You laughed at his foolishness. “You know what? Yes, I will.”

You lean in, kissing every one of his bandaged wounds. Mauga runs his fingers through your hair. He brings your face up to his, bringing you into a slow, passionate kiss. Your tongues caress each other, and his hands cover your face while rubbing your temples.

You lean back and kiss his chest, where his two hearts would be. “Let me warm your food up, then we could watch a movie."

He nodded. You both headed downstairs, and while you got his food ready, Mauga didn’t let you go. You are used to him being affectionate, but not this clingy. You didn’t mind, though he almost lost his life. You almost lost him. No matter how long it took, you’d be by his side, spoiling him until he was comfortable.

“Common Mauga I promised you cuddles and a movie."

And that’s how you both ended the night, cuddled up in each other's arms, sharing kisses and light touches. Mauga hands never left you. He nuzzled himself into your chest, and you played in his hair. Laughing at his cute antics.

“Gimmie kiss,” you lean down, kissing his lips.

"Another.” You start laughing; the sight of the giant man pouting and giving you puppy dog eyes was so adorable.

When you kiss him again, Mauga bites your bottom lip, sucking on it. Once he lets you go, you can’t help but ask something that’s been on your mind.

“You’re not going back to them, are you?”

“Don’t know"

You sighed, not really liking the answer, but not questioning it.

“Just know you don’t need them to make a living."

He looks up at you, kissing your nose.

“I know; all I need is you."

And after that, you couldn’t help but give Mauga all the kisses he wanted.

[certainlynotasimp]

Cat Got Your Tongue?

(Miguel O’Hara x Female! Reader)

A/N: Hello~✨This is the one-shot version of this head cannon some one requested of Miguel O’Hara with a Black Cat!Reader. I still have no idea if this Anon , who I think I know who you are, wanted it to be the personality trope or the actual Spiderman character…oh well, I’m planning on writing one with y’all’s Spiderman x Black Cat lovers. Also this is my first attempt at some spicy content so feedback is appreciated.

Warnings: 18+ themes (Minors DNI), Not smut, Female Reader/Pronouns, Embarrassed Miguel, Jealousy, Dirty talk, and Google Translated Spanish (( again I’m sorry but hearing him talk in Spanish is literally just 🤤🤭🥵))

~~~~~~~~~

The sound of aggressive typing fills the empty space as six spider men enter the meeting place within the lobby of the Spider Society.

Miguel barely sparred any of them a glance as they mumbled their small formalities while dragging themselves to their seats. All except the one the blue spider absolutely loathed to see in this room.

“Good morning, Guapito~” A sultry voice purrs into his ear causing the hairs on his neck to stand up. The SpiderWoman’s minty breath caused Miguel to bite on his salivating tongue as he chewed out. “Good morning, (L/N). Please take your seat.”

Throwing on a mask of annoyance, he glares at the snickering temperest as she sits beside him.

The new addition to the society joined about three weeks ago and Miguel never regretted anything more in his life than letting her bat her eyelashes into his team. Her faux innocence deceived him into believing she wouldn’t be too much trouble until the devil perked her head out of her.

Soon accidental brushes in the corridor turned into lingering caresses. Polite compliments turned into flirty promises as she continued to twist him around her finger. He should hate it. Hate every single bat of those long eyelashes. Hate every cat like curl to her lip. Hate how she acentuates her muscles and curves when she’s close to him. But he doesn’t.

The only thing he can possibly think that he hates about her was the ravage thoughts she puts into his head.

And he hates how he loves it.

“Alright, since we are all here.” He states as he opens the holographic map through out the room. “We are dealing with a dangerous anomaly in dimension 1746.”

As he finishes that sentence, a brush of something against his calf makes his muscles jump. He controls his face to remain calm and collected despite the urge to glare at the snickering spider beside him.

The others look at her confused for a moment before she fakes a sneeze into her elbow.

“Oh, excuse me.” She plays innocent as she grabs a tissue and dabs her nose. “The change in season in my world is causing a really bad allergy season…”

Her pitiful excuse causes the others to turn back towards their leader with a soft chorus of ‘bless yous’ plays out. Her eyes turn to meet his ruby gaze as a sinister smile curls on her pretty mouth.

‘Ella va a ser la muerte para mí.’ Miguel mentally groans as he throws himself back into the meeting.

“Lyla.” Miguel calls as he watches the heart eyed AI materialize infront of him.

“Yea, boss?” She says as she picks at her nails. He fights the urge to roll his eyes as he calmly asks, “Please show us all the information you gathered about the anomaly and what should we expect.”

“Isn’t that your job as the leader to do that?” The computer teases as Miguel glares at her.

“It does sound a lot more interesting when you explain it, sir.” A voice purrs beside him, causing the hair on the back of his neck to stand. His talons crack out of his skin as he grinned his teeth. Luckily, the red glow from the map allowed his heated cheeks to blend in.

“Well, (L/N), Maybe you should learn how to listen more to others.” Miguel grits out.

“Yea, hot stuff.” One of the spidermen whistles. “I’ll let you listen to me all night long.” He flirts as he uses the lense of his mask to wink at her.

The table almost cracks beneath the grip he on it as he tries to focus back on Lyla. “Parker-7853, you better watch your mouth before I send you home to your wife…” He warns he avoids eye contact.

The room goes back to the normal silence it was before as they all paid attention to Lyla explain the rules of the mission and the best ways to take out the anomaly without causing too much destruction to the fabric of space. Miguel focuses intently in front of him, but nothing the AI says processes through his brain.

The only thing he can think about was the burning gaze of the woman beside him. How she scoots a little closer and lightly traces her nail along his thigh.

‘Shit…’

As the agonizing minutes past by, the torture only got worse. Slight brushes along his leg and side, silent muttering of sweet nothings, disguised questions to hide the flirty remarks, and hyper attention on all of her perfume drove him mad.

His stomach was all in knots as he tried to remain composed as the meeting drew closer to the end. His fingers itched from the talons digging so deep into the chair as his fangs ached for a relief from the hunger she started in him. It’s hard to believe that she isn’t a Silk variant with how much she affected him….

The tension building in the room went unacknowledged but not unnoticed by the other spider men as Miguel’s signature frown was now a hardened scowl. The others didn’t dare point it out. They knew better than to call out their leader for being obviously distracted from the mission. They were all there when Miles Morales was at their base.

As the meeting ended, every spider man rushed out of the room before Miguel could properly dismiss them, leaving only him and his problem. The she-devil smiles sweetly as him as she stands up and innocently says,

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow. Right, Papi?” Her eyes shining with a look of mischief until she realized she broke the last bit of his resolve.

“Leaving so soon?” Miguel uncharacteristically smirks as he stands up and follows behind the woman. “I was hoping…” He pushes a button to cause the door to slam shut before the spider could escape his web. “We can have a quick chat about your behavior today.”

She turns and looks up at him in shock for a brief moment before slipping on her usual mask of flirtation. Her lovely eyes jumping from his looming figure towards any other way she could possibly escape. This wasn’t the usual reaction she would get from Miguel. He would normally scold her or roll his eyes at her advances, but today was different.

She’s fucked this time.

“Oh? I get some alone time with you today, Guapito?” She stuttered out as the growing dread and excitement bubbles up from her stomach into her rapid beating heart.

“Did you enjoy that?” Miguel asks sweetly, ignoring her comment as he stands just inches in front of her. His hand comes up beside her head and is placed against the door. His body leans forward as his open hand supports his weight. The tangible effect of watching his arm and shoulder flex from the strain almost causes her to pull her lip in between her teeth.

“En-enjoy what?” She acts coy as she tries to keep her eyes on his chest. She watches it vibrate with the deep cruel chuckle he releases and her own heart starts trembling as the smell of his cologne suffocates the air around them.

“Aw, is Gatita struggling to speak now?” A coo of false concern is laced with his amusement as she feels his other hand coming up beside her head. “What’s wrong, Gatita? Cat got your tongue?”

He chuckles at her struggling to respond as he threads his talons through her hair. He yanks her head back against the door softly as his hunger filled eyes burn into her wide ones. Jealousy and a long denied desire were now pouring out into his smirk as he leans down whispering,

“Crees que es divertido jugar conmigo así, ¿sí? ¿Delante de todos tus colegas?” His smirk widens revealing his fangs as he trails down slightly. Her body starts to shake from the anticipation as his nose traces fire from her cheek bone and along her jawline.

“I-I don’t-“ Miguel hushes her softly as his other hand comes to rest on her hip. “Pobre gatita... ni siquiera puede defenderse... incluso cuando otro hombre amenaza con llevársela a casa…” He tuts at her as the talons lightly dig into her neck and hip.

“Estuve a punto de pensar en tomarte en ese mismo momento... que todos escuchen lo buena chica que puedes ser para mí…” The Spider Woman had to bite her lip to hold back the noise building in the back of her throat as his fangs lightly scrape against her throat as he uttered sweetly bad things to her.

He smirks at this before saying, “Tal vez incluso te paralice con mi veneno para que puedas suplicar sin poder hacer nada... pero te gustaría eso, ¿verdad, niña bonita?”

She vigorously nods as the mask of false bravado finally falls off before Miguel tightens his grip in her hair, causing a soft moan to escape her pretty glossed lips.

“Words, Gatita. I want to hear you…” He scolds as he looks at how pathetic the once flirty spider had become in his touch.

“Yes!” She admits as her hands shot up and clung to his chest as the stinging from her scalp causes her to yelp.

“Good…” His face comes back up to her own as he starts to lean toward. Her own eyes flutter shut as she waits for the feeling of his lips against her own.

But nothing came. Instead she felt his hands completely remove themselves off of her as her eyes shot open. Miguel chuckles at the stop whine as he smirks devilishly at her.

“This will have to continue another time, Gatita…” He says as he unlocks the door. His face quickly trains back to the normal stern expression he always wears before saying, “But, don’t you dare try to embarrass me in front of the others again or else I will do as I promised…”

The spider scurries out of there with a tight “Yes, sir.” As Miguel chuckles in satisfaction.

Before he could leave, the yellow AI materializes again with a wicked smile on her face as she teases, “So you do like her?…if you’re gonna sleep with her, please don’t do it when I’m around. It was hard enough watching your two eye fuck the whole-“

“Lyla, shut up.”

~~~~~~~~~

Translations:

Ella va a ser la muerte para mí.- She's gonna be the death of me.

Gatita-little kitten?? ((It also said it meant cooked 😭))

You think it's fun to play with me like this, okay? In front of all your colleagues?- Crees que es divertido jugar conmigo así, ¿sí? ¿Delante de todos tus colegas?

Pobre gatita... ni siquiera puede defenderse... incluso cuando otro hombre amenaza con llevársela a casa…-Poor little kitten...can't even defend herself...even when another man threatens to take her home...

Estuve a punto de pensar en tomarte en ese mismo momento... que todos escuchen lo buena chica que puedes ser para mí…—I almost thought about taking you right then and there...let them all hear how much of a good girl you can be for me…

Tal vez incluso te paralice con mi veneno para que puedas suplicar sin poder hacer nada... pero te gustaría eso, ¿verdad, niña bonita?-Maybe even paralyze you with my venom so you can helplessly beg...but you would like that wouldn't you, pretty girl?

[usedtobecooler]

Pairing | Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings | sexual content (18+ minors dni), DUBCON, dark themes, monster fucking, cunnilingus, fingering f receiving, piv sex, unprotected sex, mild anal play f receiving, dirty talking, degradation, squirting, crying, pussy slapping, spanking, face slapping, creampie, praise kink, biting, blood play, blood kink, no aftercare.

Word Count | 3.7k

A/N | just a lil something since it's halloween, it's only fair we delve into something a bit spooky and out of the ordinary. can't lie i've mortified myself this time but i'm so into it.

"Where have you been all my life?" A figure slides up beside you where you stand at the drinks table, cup in hand filled with some gross 'Halloween Punch' that Harrington had promised tasted good (it didn't), some shitty Blondie tune playing loud in the background, mostly drowned out by the rowdy noise of the party.

You turn your head to glance at said figure, to find Eddie Munson standing there with a smirk on his red stained lips. He's a vampire (you think?), albeit a fantastic one. You had to admit his costume was great as you drank in his appearance. He really had gone all out, red horns poking out from beneath his bangs, large black bat wings fanned out across his back, fingers dusted charcoal and he'd even gone to the trouble of sticking on impossibly long talon-like nails.

His actual outfit could be considered normal, a black button down silk shirt on his torso, two buttons open to reveal a chain dangling from his neck, what looked to be fake bite marks chomped into the surrounding skin. A simple pair of ripped jeans and white trainers to finish the look off, but you could forgive him for the lack of detail in the actual clothes with how good his prosthetics were.

"What are you supposed to be?" You ask, furrowed brows as you brush your hand out to touch his wings, feeling the soft, leathery texture under your fingertips. It feels expensive, which was weird because you were so sure Eddie was dirt poor. Maybe you were wrong.

"I suppose you could call me a vampire-bat hybrid?" Eddie smirks, and you bite your glossy red lip when you see the two crystal white fangs sparkle in the light. Fangs had always done it for you, really, there was something about vampires that got you all hot and bothered.

"Looks good," You say eventually, voice strained as you bring your cup up to your mouth and swig a little of the absolutely vile concoction. You screw your face up in disgust as you swallow, trying to ignore the way the liquid almost comes back up as fast as it goes down.

Eddie crowds into your space, leaning over you to grab a bottle of Bud sat just inches from where you were. Your breath hitches at the feeling of him so close to you, his scent and the cold coming from his body enough to make you feel dizzy.

There was something off about him that you couldn't quite pinpoint. You admittedly hadn't seen Eddie Munson since you graduated in '84 and left Hawkins rather abruptly to study across the country. But you remembered him being a little warmer than this, a little shyer, a little more human.

You stand there awkwardly for a moment longer before excusing yourself to the bathroom, feigning that you needed to rearrange your costume - a party city zombie cheerleader outfit, not exactly enough to leave much to the imagination, and not really an outfit that needed fixing, but Eddie takes your word for it, and you bounce off without another word.

Knowing Steve well enough, you sneak into his room to use his own private bathroom, any party goers being schmucks and using the main bathroom that had a queue the size of Hawkins outside of it. You were surprised he wasn't in there himself with some girl, the room completely void of human life.

You give yourself a second, brushing out your skirt and pulling your ponytail tight. The costume wasn't a far cry from your days at Hawkins High, you were an it girl in those days after all. Not head cheerleader, but on the team - people had liked you more for other reasons.

You unclick the lock on the bathroom door, pulling it open to come face to face with the person you'd ran away from. You jump out of your skin a little, Eddie's face lit up with a little smirk at the reaction he elicits from you. You furrow your brows and shut the door behind you, making to leave without a word, but he won't let you.

It truly was dizzying being up this close to Eddie, his body crowding in on yours and backing you up against Steve's door, and you swear you see his wings curl in too but that could be from the one too many drinks you'd plied yourself with.

"Are you scared of me?" Eddie asks, picking up on the way your heart races and thuds loudly beneath your ribcage, making his fangs ache and his head cloudy with need to sink in and taste the wet, metallic gush of your blood.

"N-no," You stutter, head lulling to the side a little to invite him in, to let him nuzzle his nose in and smell you properly, which he does so gratefully, the pointed edges of his fangs sliding out to graze at your goosebump riddled skin, making you shiver, "does... does anybody know?"

Eddie huffs out a little laugh against your skin, fangs disappearing so he can press a sweet kiss to your neck, "Know what? Do you think there's something wrong with me?"

You gasp out loud at the feeling of Eddie's lips on you, the way his big hands come out to grasp at your hips and hold you in place, "I don't - I don't know, Eddie. You don't seem like yourself. You're not the guy I remember."

Your head is hazy, a mixture of alcohol and whatever weird spell Eddie was putting on you enough to have you confused and doubting yourself. Maybe you truly were just crazy and making this up in your drunk brain, but you were almost positive you knew what was going on here. It terrified you, and you wanted to back away, but it was like your feet were planted firmly in their place, glued down and rendering you unable to run.

Eddie smirks against your neck, hand running from your hip to brazenly slide under your skirt, and you can't help but notice his nails have somehow disappeared, soft pads of his fingers running along your clothed folds, "Your soaking wet pussy tells me you like this though, sweetheart. So wet you're drenching your panties for me."

You shiver, a moan escaping your lips as he moves your panties to the side, exposing your cunt to the cool air. His cold fingers expertly find your clit right away, rubbing it in slow, hard circles that have you mewling.

Your whole body feels like it's on fire, a sensation you've never felt as Eddie assaults your cunt with his fingertips, you're trapped in a trance that you can't pull yourself out of, all of your senses rushing with Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

Your hands come out to grip at his hair, fingertips accidentally knocking one of his horns and he growls, snapping back from his place in your neck to stare you down with hard eyes, fingertips stuttering on your clit and suddenly he's slapping your cunt hard. You let out a shocked, high-pitched moan at the harsh sting vibrating through your folds and your bundle of nerves, leaving you in a cold sweat and your legs almost buckling.

"Hands to your fucking self, I'm in charge here." Eddie's voice is quiet, but his words come out so harsh and venomous that it frightens you, though your cunt clenches uncontrollably, like it has a mind of its own, "Go lie on the fucking bed and spread your legs like the whore you are."

You do it wordlessly and without question, your legs moving before your brain can comprehend it, like you're under a spell. At this point, you're wondering if you are, because the real you wasn't like this - she doesn't let herself be bossed around, she doesn't allow men to touch her without her say so. You know it's bad, yet you can't stop it, because it doesn't feel wrong in the way it should.

Steve's bed is big and plush, nothing less could be expected of him really, and you sink into it, propping yourself up on your elbows so you didn't feel so vulnerable, spreading your legs wide like Eddie commanded of you. He creeps towards you like a predator stalking his prey, his dark eyes almost black now and something behind them that you can't quite pinpoint.

In the dim light Eddie's skin appears to be flushed a deep red that almost looks supernatural, like he'd covered himself in oil paints. He grabs a tight hold of your ankles and pulls them, yanking you down the bed until your ass is almost over the edge. You watch him in awe as he kneels on the floor in front of you, head going under your short skirt.

"You won't be needing these." He mutters against the insides of your thighs, then you feel and hear him ripping at the lacey material of your panties. They fall in tatters to the floor, discarded to be long forgotten about.

You gasp as he plants wet, sloppy kisses to the insides of your thighs, and you feel the points of his fangs brush the skin just hard enough to feel like a papercut. Your fingers clench into the sheets, blown away by how even the slightest touch has you a wet, whimpering mess for him.

"Your cunt smells so fuckin' good," Eddie groans, nestling his nose in between your folds and inhaling deep, "so sweet, just like the rest of you. Good enough to eat."

"Wha-" Your voice dies in your throat as Eddie's long pointed tongue comes out to lick a stripe up the seam of your pussy. He finds your clit as fast with his tongue as he did with his fingers, latching on and suckling at it hard.

The noises escaping you are sad and pathetic, truly, for all it is he's actually doing. You're moaning like you'd never been touched in your life, begging and pleading, "Eddie, please, fuck."

Your hips buck into his face of their own accord and Eddie growls against your cunt, his big hand coming up to shove your hips back down, forearm laying across the width of your pelvis to hold them down so you couldn't move. You can't even focus enough to brace yourself for two of his fingers from the opposite hand circling your entrance and sliding in to the hilt until it's too late.

The slick sounds of your wet cunt being assaulted by Eddie's mouth and fingers fill your senses, making you gush even wetter and clench around his thick fingers. They're so deep you can feel his rings catching on your hole and breaching slightly, it's enough to have you feeling dizzy with want and need.

Your arms finally give out and you fall flat against the bed, mewling and eyes pricking wet with tears as the pads of Eddie's fingers run along your spongey spot and don't let up. You can feel your orgasm building quickly, tummy winding tight and the hot heat spreading through your whole body.

Eddie's mouth is utterly sinful, his tongue working your clit expertly like he'd done this a thousand times before, like something straight out of a porn flick. Your body succumbs to him like you're his for the taking, like his fingers were meant to be buried deep in your cunt forever and his mouth was made specifically for you.

You come so hot and fast you're crying, sobbing wetly, moaning and thrashing uselessly as Eddie's fingers are forced out of you from the sheer power of it - all he does is bury his face harder in your cunt in retaliation. You gush wet and hard enough that you hear it trickling onto the hardwood floor in front of Eddie's knees, feel it run down your ass.

Eddie licks you clean, sharp tongue running all the way down to your asshole and even sucking you dry there, big hands moving to spread your cheeks and shove his face in. In your state you can't find it in you to be embarrassed or feel disgusted, your body feeling like jelly and placid enough that Eddie could do whatever he wanted and get away with it.

You're so out of it that you don't realise Eddie moving you up the bed and tearing your shirt off until he's hovering between your legs and your tits are on full display. He leans down to lick and bite at the round of your left breast, his large hand grabbing the other and kneading it. His wings are encasing you both now, enough to shield you from view if anyone were to walk in.

The wetness of your tears roll down the sides of your face and pool in your ears and hair. Somewhere in your subconscious you're begging him to stop, but your body is keening into him, and your lips betray you with the noises of content that fall from them.

You make to lift your hands up to shove him away, but Eddie's reflexes are incredible and his own hands come out to grasp at your wrists and force them down onto the bed, holding you down tightly. You try to thrash around but it dies when Eddie bares his fangs and sinks them into the flesh of your tit.

The feeling that overcomes you is something you'd never felt before, your body flushes hot like you have a high fever, your skin prickling with want as your tummy coiled up in knots. Eddie drinks from you in silence, the only noises to be heard are the slight slurp of wetness from your dripping blood and the moans escaping your lips.

You come again. Hard, hot and fast. Not a single part of Eddie's body near your cunt, yet you're shuddering and gushing wet on the bed, enough to soak the comforter beneath your legs and ass.

It feels wrong, your pussy clenching around nothing and your body wracking with aftershocks. Eddie's fangs retract and he's smirking against your skin, tongue lapping up the blood still trickling from the wounds on your breast.

"Dirty fuckin' slut, coming just from my fangs in you. You're so fucking easy for it, what a silly little girl." Eddie laughs at you and you're crying again, squeezing your eyes shut as he mocks you, but you like it, you're so ashamed you can't stop the tears from falling.

Eddie roughly grips your chin, shaking you a little until you open your eyes. You're mortified by the sight in front of you, your blood dripping down Eddie's chin and neck, spreading down the open neck of his shirt.

He looks like a monster, the facade gone and his true form on display in all of its glory. He looks deranged, eyes as black as the Devil's, skin flushed crimson and his fangs on full display. The only thing reminding you that it's Eddie perched in front of you is his curly hair, looking out of place on his body. You should be scared, turned off, trying to back out of the door and run for your life.

Yet, you still lie there, with your legs spread for him and refusing to budge. You hazard letting your hands come out to grasp at his silk shirt and he surprisingly lets you, lets you unbutton it with nimble fingers until the front is open and exposing the bites in his toned chest and stomach.

Something had done a number on him; you know that much. Chunks of flesh are missing, deep enough that he should be dead. Through the fog of your brain, you're aware now more than ever that he probably is in fact dead - the undead.

Time was a mere concept to you in your hazy state, as you watch Eddie unbuckle the belt on his jeans, sliding them down his thighs with his underwear to expose himself, hard cock springing out into the cool air, making him hiss.

You shoot up from your place on the bed, sitting up properly to get a good look at what was in front of you.

It was like nothing you'd ever seen in your life.

It was a dick, that much was obvious, clearly. But it matched the rest of his undead body, flushed deep red from base to tip. Where there should've been veins, there were now symmetrical ridges, all the way down to the fat head. The head itself was curved upwards, almost like it was made for stroking a gspot.

And, to put it bluntly, it was fucking huge. Your mouth watered uncontrollably, the urge to reach out and touch it tugging at your gut.

Eddie reaches out and slaps you with a flat palm against your cheek, the connection loud enough to snap you out of your trance, "I said, get up on your knees. Be a good girl and ride me."

Your body moves subconsciously, trading places with Eddie and swinging your leg over so you were hovering just above his hard cock. You couldn't stop yourself even if you wanted to. At this point, you're so far gone that even the voice niggling at the back of your head had died down, leaving you a wanton, submissive mess.

He makes the first move, grabbing his cock by the base and running the head between your folds, getting himself nice and wet. Eddie makes no noise as an indicator as to whether he's genuinely enjoying this or not, just breaches your cunt with the tip until you're gasping and rocking your hips a little.

It's wide, a ridiculous stretch that you're not used to and probably could never get used to. Eddie grips onto your ass with his free hand, slapping it hard enough that you slide down another inch, your back arching a little and tears forming in your eyes.

"Little baby can't take my cock, how cute," Eddie's voice is condescending, mocking you enough to have your cunt clench around him, eliciting a hiss from his lips, "you're gonna take it all like a good fuckin' girl, aren't you?"

Another slap to your ass has you sliding down again, taking in another inch. You can feel every ridge of his cock, every weird texture, the fat bulb of the head already abusing your soft spot. It hurt, but it hurt so good, like you were being stretched apart from the inside.

Eddie grows impatient at how slow you're going, grabbing a tight hold of your hips and impaling you on the last of his cock until you're screaming, fingertips gripping at his mauled shoulders as you cry, cunt gripping sporadically around the length of him.

You feel so full it's pathetic, if you poked your tummy you'd be able to feel him nestled in your stomach. Could probably see it if you wanted to hazard a glance down.

"You're such a whiny little thing, aren't you? Crying for me," Eddie coos, bucking his hips up a little for emphasis until you're biting out a wet sob, "your little sobs sound like music in my ears, sweetheart."

He doesn't let you become accustomed to the size of his cock in you, lifting your hips up as if you're weightless and shoving you back down to the hilt. You moan in between your cries, body going lax in his hands as you let him do what he wants with you.

Eddie's demeanor breaks eventually and he moans into the expanse of your throat, massive cock fucking into you relentlessly from below and there's nothing you can do but take it, feeling every bit of him consuming your body, "Such a good little slut for me, taking my monster cock so well. You love it, huh? Love being treated like a little fuck toy."

You nod, tears streaming consistently, "Y-yes, Eddie. F-fuck, m'so full." You cry out, the sounds of your soaking wet cunt sucking his cock in making you clench impossibly tighter around him, "Bite me again, aah, wanna come again, please."

Your wet sobs are almost enough to have Eddie folding, sinking his teeth into you without a second thought, but instead his large hand comes up to grab your ponytail, pulling your head back until you're looking at the ceiling as his hips snap up into your own, "Scream a bit louder. Want everyone at this party to hear you cry and beg for me."

The head of Eddie's cock is relentless on your spongey spot, his hips snapping into yours hard enough you're going to be left with so many bruises, "Eddie!" Your voice is primal, you'd never heard yourself sound like this before, "Pleasepleaseplease, m'begging, let me come."

"Atta girl, begging for me all sweet." Eddie smirks, pulling your ponytail impossibly tighter until your back is arched, he leans over and bites into your neck, sinking his fangs in to the hilt as his hips continue to fuck up into you, the brutal assault feeling like it's never ending.

The hot waves of pleasure wash over you so quick you barely comprehend it, the feeling of Eddie feeding from your veins making your cunt clench around his cock as you come again, squirting wet and hot all over him, drenching his balls and his thighs.

Eddie shoves you onto your back without pulling out, driving into you deep and impossibly fast with his fangs still in your throat. He comes not long after, succumbing to the feeling of your tight pussy and your hot blood dripping down his throat, a deep groan escaping him as he buried himself in to the hilt as your clenching cunt helped work him through, "You're mine now, sweetheart. Don't think I'm done with you, I'll be back."

You pass out with his words swimming in your head, for how long you're unsure, but when you wake up Eddie is gone, the fog that clouded your brain leaving with him.

Your aching neck, leaking cunt and bruised body the only reminder he was ever there.

You wonder if he meant it, if you truly would ever see him again.

[cursed-40k-thoughts]

Someone on r/40KLore just asked how would the community personally kill Abaddon if the Writers called for it.

How would YOU kill Ezekyle "Totally Not Horus 2.0" Abaddon the Despoiler?

I would, personally, like Khârn, Typhus, Ahriman and Lucius to team up like unwashed power rangers (because they/their gods get sick of him for WAKING UP THE EMPEROR) and decide that Abaddon and the Ezekarion need to go. So, you get the marked chaos legions vs the Black Legion, and it culminates in a 1v4 where Abaddon is eventually killed, but not before he runs Lucius through with the Talon, and finds touching him so beneath him that it actually kills Lucius properly.

But, that is my personal and fanciful silly idea, and I acknowledge some people like Abaddon, so… probably not that.

Maybe he could get a fleet all the way to Terra, and goes out by personally piloting the Venegful Spirit into the golden throne and blowing out the warp drives after a colossal battle that has primarchs showing up to do battle and all that stuff. Skirmish of Terra, but Abaddon wins, proves his conviction to his cause when he realises he’s going to die, and forces the Imperium into a new age of survival. Him ordering everyone who wants to evacuate to do so, but having the remaining Ezekarion and a surprising number of people stay by his side would be a neat micromoment in the whole thing, too. To show how much of the Black Legion are committed to his goals. So, he dies surrounded by loyal soldiers, master of his ship, blowing up the Emperor’s corpse and the astronomican while the chaos gods scream at him to stop because they aren’t done with him.

I don’t particularly like him, but I think it’s the coolest sort of death I could give him, and it would also massively shake up how the Imperium-centric setting conducts itself. On paper, anyway.

[runa-falls]

cat and mouse - 2

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Supervillain(?)!Reader

Warnings: kissy kissy :3, mention of alcohol, you're broke. sorry.

a/n: i wrote this out today (what is now a few days ago) because i couldn't work on the other fic until i got this out of my system :) if there are plot holes its because i vomited out this chapter and threw it out like a dumbass. idk what Black-Cat's personality is like so i made it kinda mirror cat woman from the harley quinn show.

Summary: Every time you try to convince people it was an accident, you immediately get ratted out to the Spider. But really, it was! You don't know why you're being hunted, you didn't even do anything wrong. Yet.

w/c: 2.6k

part 1 part 3 part 4

masterlist

----

Nueva York’s friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, as he, and the world, likes to call him, is your official nemesis, or at least that’s what the city thinks.

You crumple up the half-soaked People magazine, filled with ‘juicy gossip about our favorite Spider and the new villain-of-the-week: Blaze’. Seriously, you might just become a villain if they keep calling you that.

You briefly forgot you swiped the news story off of a nearby food and entertainment stand (that’s barely holding up in the downpour) until you hear:

“Hey! You gotta pay for that!” 

You don’t. 

In your defense, it was only a dollar-fifty. And either way, it’s technically the Spider’s fault that you didn’t have a penny on you!

Honestly, if it were your choice, you’d never see his stupidly broad shoulders again. He truly is the bane of your existence and a major pain in your ass. You genuinely don’t understand why he even pays you any mind, it’s not like you are plotting to take over the city. You just want enough money to get some fries and a Koka Soda, and maybe a couple more black articles of clothing that aren’t covered in clawed-out stripes. 

Spider-Man? More like Cat-Man. 

You would say you’ve been “fighting” this man for weeks like the magazines insinuate, but it’s less violence than it is just you squirming out of his clutches and running away. You swear the Spider is a bloodhound. No matter where you are, or what you’re wearing, he always finds you. And you always get away. It’s actually quite pathetic. 

He goes: “It’s you again.”

You say: “No it’s not.” 

Then he has to say: “Blaze.” Like you’re some ultra-nemesis that has ruined his life.

And you can’t help but: “Stop fucking calling me that, dude.” Before you make a run for it. 

He catches up, obviously, either has you on the ground, against the wall, or holds you up so you can’t escape, but then you do. Every time. And he lets you. 

So really, it’s just fucking annoying. What a waste of a great plan and an excellently executed silent break-in!

You never asked for any of this. The fact you don’t have a flashy-ass elastic suit should be proof enough: You’re not a supervillain. 

But, when the opportunity to make a little more cash comes around, you can’t just say no. In your mind, the bigger the heist, the longer you can stay out of the public and away from him. 

And if the one girl on the team wants to make you a suit, how can you resist? The Spider has ruined all the other clothes you’ve worn (and not in a good way). 

You saw your new suit a few hours before you needed to meet up with the team. Felicia, or Black Cat as the rest of the group refers to her, is probably the most elegant and badass woman you’ve ever met. 

She has voluminous silver-blonde curls and sharp green eyes that match the deadliness of her talon-like retractable claws (which actually kinda remind you of someone…). Though she doesn’t have explosive energy inside of her as you do, her cat-like senses and martial art skills are almost as deadly. 

Felicia was happy to invite you over to her multi-million dollar penthouse to get ready and hang out a little before you needed to leave. 

She’s filing her nails into perfectly deadly points as you sit on her plush ultra-white couch next to the new suit, hands fiddling nervously together as you watch her pamper herself with extreme precision. There are two glasses of high-grade champagne in front of you on the glass coffee table. Yours is barely touched. Hers has been drained and refilled a couple of times throughout the hour. 

“You know, usually I’d work this job alone, but it’s a lot easier to get away when you leave a few maggots to distract the Spider. That’s what men are for. Us girls need to stick together, right?” 

Even her voice is elegant. 

“Yeah.” You croak out. You prefer to listen to her talk than say something dumb and non-villain-like. And yeah, you’ll admit you’re a tiny bit scared of her, but sometimes that’s something you have to go through when making friends. Right?

“Alright, we’ve got like 20 minutes. Go on, babe, try it on.” She loosely gestures to the suit, “Bathroom is in the hallway, first door to the left.” You stand promptly and shuffle over to her bathroom, taking a second to look back to send a grateful smile at her before you close the door. 

It almost resembles the one you saw on her the first day you met. The only difference is that yours is completely black and has a high collar neckline in contrast to her more provocative V-shaped suit.

There’s no fur-lining or silver details, just an invisible zipper that creates the illusion that this suit is painted onto your body. Felicia also provided a simple mask that you can pull over your head when you tie back your hair and some silver hair spray so you’re less recognizable to the general public. 

You stare in the mirror and smooth out any wrinkles down your torso with your gloved fingers. Alright. Now you look like a supervillain. 

Or at least a super-something. 

She makes you do a little spin. “You look lovely, darling.” A smirk pulled at her charming lips. “Absolutely, perfect.” 

—

Fuck.

So here you are, trying to break out of a bank that shut down around you as soon as you walked in. The two guys, who you never took the time to learn the names of, are freaking out, banging harshly against the metal doors that slammed shut in front of the exits. 

Felicia, on the other hand, is as cool as a cucumber, checking her nails like there isn’t a blaring siren and pulsing lights around her. 

So what now? You could probably blast the doors open with whatever comes out of your hands (you’re still not sure as you try to use your powers as a last resort). But that would leave a bunch of evidence that you were there and you didn’t come to knock down a whole building.

You walk over to her, trying to hide the anxiety that’s starting to bubble up inside of you. “What should we do?” She looks up from her manicured nails and looks at you. Then at the guys.

“Well, the boys seem a bit preoccupied,” As if to prove her point, one of them starts kicking the door, as if it would magically open up for him if he were to hit it harder and make more noise. She sighs, “I guess we could use the air duct that leads to the roof.” 

“Ok.”

So you follow her to one of the main offices in the building, watching as she easily rips off the cover of the vent and uses the desk for leverage to hoist her into the surprisingly spacious air duct. 

The chill evening breeze of Nueva York has never felt so good. Well, it has smelt better, but if garbage and crime-filled air meant you’re not going back to jail, you’ll take it. 

“Well, that could’ve gone better.” The Black Cat runs her fingers through her hair, pushing it back and out of her face. Of course, it falls perfectly over her shoulders. “So…I’ll see you later, yeah?” She’s leaving?

“Uh, yeah, sure. I’d love to!” 

“Great.” She walks to the edge of the roof and scales down the back of the building like it’s nothing. Look, it’s not that tall of a building, but still, you weren’t about to follow her down. You watch as her black-suited figure lands on the concrete ground, barely making a sound, before she sashays into the shadows of the city, disappearing into the night. God, she’s so cool. 

And then it’s just you. 

You sit yourself down and finally take a breath. Your first job as a villain and you didn’t even get to see the money. What are you getting yourself into?

You pull slightly at the elastic holding your hair together, regretting the tight pony that’s now giving you a major headache. Maybe this life isn’t for you. With, probably an overdramatic, sigh you push yourself up. Now to figure out how you’re getting out of here. 

–

Turns out you didn’t have too many options. As soon as you were about to take a serious ‘leap of faith’ and try to scale down the building, you were ambushed by a series of fwp, fwp, fwp’s and lifted from the ground. That probably saved your life now that you’re thinking back on it.

So, he found you. Big surprise. He’s practically stalking you at this point.

He takes you for a ride, holding you close as he swings from building to building, barely breaking a sweat. You’re actually surprised that you didn’t hurl all over his stupidly firm shoulder. You should have.

You don’t know why he brought you to the top of a half-constructed building, but you’re assuming he’s just trying to be dramatic again. Superheroes, right? 

You struggle against restraints when you’re finally set down, at least trying to lay in a more comfortable position as Spider-man stands over you. Not only are you fully wrapped in red webs, but your arms are also tied behind your back.

The Spider kneels down, watching you continue to struggle, “Alright, Hardy, give it up.” Hardy? Shit, he must think you’re Felicia. The black suit, the silver hair. Dammit. 

He takes off your mask before you can say anything, pulling out your loose hair tie with it, and boy, is he surprised to see it’s you.

“Wh–Blaze?” He takes off his mask like he can’t believe his fabric-covered eyes. His scarlet gaze not so subtly takes in your new look. A big change from the usual getup you wear. “What, uh,” When he finally meets your eyes, one of his gloved hands raises to rub at the back of his neck. Is he nervous? He briefly looks away from you, “What did you do to your hair?”

“Who cares! Let me out of these!” You glower at him, arms tugging at the luminous webs, “And you know I hate that stupid-ass name.”

“What the hell were you doing here? Why are you suddenly hanging out with a bunch of criminals?”

You give him a deadpan expression, “I’m a villain, remember.”

“Ah,” He slices through a couple of the overlapping webs that fit snugly over your stomach. “Finally giving into the narrative, hm?” Then the ones around your arms.

“S’not like I have much of a choice.” The red webs start to loosen until they unravel completely and pool on the floor. “So, you’re…letting me go?” You rub at your sore wrists, feeling the ache dissipate almost immediately. He shrugs like it’s no big deal for him. 

“It’s expected, isn't it?” He’s at the edge of the roof staring at the buildings around him, a soft breeze sweeps through his hair, and the lights of ‘the city that never sleeps’ soak over his suited figure from below.

“Just like that?” 

“...Just like that.” He says. But he says it more to himself than you. With that, he swiftly puts his mask back on, hiding the wonderfully serene expression he once held, but you never got to see in full. 

Spider-man is confusing. He treats you like you’re some sort of catch-and-release criminal. Acting like a push-over parent that reprimands their child even when they know they’ll do it again. You don’t get it. 

And the way he looks at you sometimes. Like he’s having fun. You see it when he’s chasing you, webbing you to the wall, or holding you under his claws. There’s a glowing heat that pulses in his eyes and you can almost see the barest gleam of his fangs. You can’t even wrap your head around how he can both infuriate and draw you in at the same time. And then he lets you go. 

And now he’s leaving you. 

So you take your chance. 

“Wait.” He stills but doesn’t turn back to look at you. He just stays there, merely stopping to listen to whatever you have to say. But you want him to look at you. You need to see those simmering red eyes that are hidden behind the mask. “I-” You stop yourself. You’re not actually sure what you were going to say. All you know is you just weren’t ready for him to leave yet. “I, um, never caught your name!” It blurts out of your lips before you realize what you’re saying. 

Then silence.

How awkward. 

You were sure he was going to leave you there. No sane superhero would reveal his secret identity, dumbass! Especially to a girl like you.

But then his hand comes up, slips off his mask again, hair slightly ruffled from the action, and he finally turns. Before you know it he’s approaching you, fast. And you can’t do anything but stand there, watching as his looming form starts to take up more and more of your vision until he’s standing right in front of you, head tilted downwards and red eyes low. 

Two warm palms cradle your jaw and you lean into the touch, eyes fluttering closed at the feeling. Just as your eyes start to open again, his head is dipping toward yours. Then his lips meet yours.

And it’s perfect. His soft plush lips move against yours, occasionally nipping and sucking on your bottom lip until it was satisfyingly plump. The warm, masculine smell surrounding you makes your knees weak as his hands drop from your face to your waist in an effort to pull you toward him.

Your body melts against him as he starts to softly lick into your mouth, thoroughly seeking out the taste of you. He pushes you gently against the unfinished concrete wall behind you, eliminating any space that was left between your thinly suited bodies. You swear you’re about to melt when you feel his broken groan against your lightly suited-chest.

And then you separate, heavy breaths and intense gazes floating between you. “Miguel.” He looks down at the way he’s holding you, the size of his palm against your smaller body. And then the ridiculous suit that was tailored specifically for the heist, but looks more like something you’d wear for a BDSM session. He clears his throat and looks back up, “Miguel O’Hara.”

“Miguel…” His hand on your waist clenches at the sound of your hoarse voice and you can tell he’s tempted to pull you back in. 

“You’re one of the few who know.”

Now, you’re curious. You hum, “Who else knows?” His eyes glance at your hair and his hand drops. Suddenly, you feel cold. He steps away from you, not unkindly, but it’s clear he’s trying to create space. 

He brushes it off, “No one important.” And then he’s walking away. Back to the same spot he was going to leave you from. Cool. 

“Well,” You take a few steps closer, eyes roaming over his muscled back,  “I promise not to tell anyone.”

“I know.” His mask is back on, and this time you know there’s no stopping him this time. “Catch you later, Little Red.” He jumps. 

Little Red? 

[themastaralex]

Always, even to the End.

When an anomaly mission goes bad, you're left in critical condition, while a distressed Gwen is left to handle and process what just happened, while Miguel is there to save you, making sure you don't die like his daughter once did.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, direct talk of open wounds, very poorly studied medical stuff.

This shit was so much longer than I was thinking to make it like wtf do you mean 5k words?? Also Latina reader 🫶🏼❤️

"Oh, shit."

Wounded. Red. Pain. Talons.

Then, a voice, heavily muffled.

Ears. Ringing.

You open your eyes, barely able to see a figure. Then you feel a bruise on your eyebrow, moving to your eyelid.

"..fuck.." Strained, you groan, breaths ragged. Then the figure crouches down next to you, and they pull up your mask, right below your eye.

"-die." The figure's hand moves toward your bruised cheek, lightly brushing it. "St.."

Blood rushes out from your mouth, a sign of internal injuries.

Oh. I'm dead.

Almost.

Your eyesight starts to settle a little more, as you can finally make out some more detail of the figure.

White.. Hood..

Oh.. yeah.. mission. Almost forgot.

"Ngh.." Gwen looks around and presses something on her arm, her watch. Then as the portal comes up, she picks you up and speaks something into the watch.

You're not sure what happened to you. And right now, you're sure you want to sleep.

You're tired.

The blood loss.

She grabs you and runs into the portal. The portal is short, and she has no time to waste, so she doesn't wait for the elevator, instead, she just jumps, and even though you don't have the normal spider-person sticking, she keeps you close, and held.

You recall your mask, similar to Miguel's recall.

Your face moves to the left, as you see people running and rushing toward you, medics.

A smile comes up on your face when you see Miguel rushing towards you.

Haha.

Only time he'll ever run to me.

Then you look back at Gwen, her mask off and hood down. Her teeth are gritted as hard as she can as she runs toward the team of Spider-Medics. You didn't exactly get too good of a look at her face, but you see the gap in her teeth,

Cute.

Only a second later, your ears quit ringing, and you can finally hear, as she places you on a stretcher.

"Can you hear me?!" One of the medics yells as he flashes a light in your eyes, making sure you're still here.

"Ye..yeah." Just like earlier, your voice sounds heavily strained, as if it pains you to speak, which it does.

Up until now, most of your body has felt numb, but you finally feel it, the worst hit you've ever felt in your history of being Spider-Woman/Shadow of 2099. And you don't feel your legs. Or anything past when you got hit.

"I can't.. feel my chest.." You mutter out, a whisper in the wind.

"What?" Gwen asks, narrowing her eyes at you.

You desperately look at her, as your breaths become more and more labored.

The medics rush you to the medical bay, as Miguel and Gwen follow them. They place a oxygen mask over your mouth and nose, making sure you can breathe.

Gwen contacts Miles, Hobie, Pav and Peter so they know what happened.

"EVERYONE, MOVE! MOVE, DAMN IT!" Miguel clears a path, clearly worried for you, but he'd never admit it, at least not in front of everyone.

He always had that one soft spot for you.

You always did remind him of his daughter.

Your smile, your curiosity.

God, Miguel wishes so bad you didn't, because if you die now, he'll just get hurt again, and again.

So he'll do almost anything to save you, his 'adoptive daughter'. A year and a half ago, he would have said he didn't have anything to lose.

But now.. you know the rest.

After a few minutes of rushing to the medical bay, they get you into emergency surgery, then find what happened.

"Multiple broken vertebrae, shattered spine, fractured ribs, and a mediocre concussion. We have her in surgery right now to fix her spine." The doctor glances up from his clipboard, seeing a pacing Miguel and Gwen in a chair, slouched over, thinking over and over, 'how did this happen?'.

You don't blame her. Not after what the Goblin pulled.

"I'm not even quite sure how she survived, given she doesn't have the typical spider-powers. But I do know she has a similar physiology to you, Miguel." The doctor points his pen toward the 6'9 man, as Miguel turns toward him, encouraging him to continue. "You might have to do a blood transfusion, given that she's lost quite a lot of blood."

The Goblin, he's the one who did this to you. He mimicked Gwen's voice, saying, "Spider-Woman, help!"

It was in that second that you should have known. She never says Spider-Woman. She always says Shadow.

You should have known, you should have. But of course, your feelings and thoughts got the better of you. And the fact that you have no spider-sense only made it worse.

"Alright. I'll do what it takes to save my 2nd best Spider." Gwen quietly laughs at that, but only for a second.

"And you, Gwen, we'll need to check you out before you can leave." She nods, standing and following the doctor, but not without looking back at Miguel, who is glaring at her, his fangs out and everything.

Her eyes go wide, and she turns back around as fast as she can.

Oh, shit. Miguel's gonna kill me after I get bandaged up.

She can't help but get that awful feeling in her stomach just thinking about what Miguel will do to her after.

After Gwen follows the doctor in the doors, he drops the angered look, and instead dawns a tired look, complete with lowered eyebrows and small frown.

"Chingada madre. Kid always has to be in some sort of trouble. She can never stay still." He pinches his nose bridge, in between his eyes.

He keeps his eyes on the surgeons doing your operation, then looks at you on the table, under the effects of anesthesia.

"You better survive this so I can ground you." He barely smiles, giving the illusion he's still deathly angry with you, because he is.

The only thing you think about while under is a nightmare of not being able to save Gwen if the Goblin actually had her, which is almost traumatic for you. And whenever you think of it, your heart rate spikes, and the doctors have to give you additional drugs to calm your system down.

Regardless, almost everyone who knows you is worried, knowing that having your spine fractured, broken, shattered, whichever you want to say, is huge.

The doctor finishes treating Gwen's minor and major injuries, like cuts, bruises, and her broken arm. He gives her a cast to wear on her left arm for a week or two, before coming back for a check-up.

She heads back out the way she came, stopping for a minute to see the progress they've made. Virtually zero, but this surgery is complicated and will take hours of labor to repair the broken vertebrae, piece together the shattered spine, and replicate the ruptured nerves.

For some reason, she can't help but blame herself, just like she's blamed herself for so many other things.

But you don't think it's her fault, you know it's not her fault.

Other than blaming herself for something she couldn't have prevented, she watches the surgeons work for a minute, before wanting to head to your shared quarters, which for now, will be vastly empty.

For now, it won't be filled with the sound of your pencil going at it on your sketchbook paper, or you listening to some of your favorite songs, or the sound of you criticizing either a book you're reading, or something on the holoscreen.

And she feels alone. Again.

She hasn't felt this alone in a while, since after all, you're there next to her most of the time.

Grinning, laughing, trying not to laugh when Lyla "accidentally" turns off Miguel's hologram and his butt shows.

But she has Miles, Pav, and Hobie, right? Yes, but they're not you, one of her only girl friends, and best friend at that..

She stares at your bloodied and bruised face, reminding her of when Peter died.

Her thoughts go dark for a moment, thinking about you dying. On that table. Having to tell your parents in your universe that you died saving her.

Gwen snaps out of it, shaking her head.

'No. Stop thinking like that. She has the best doctors in the Spiderverse working on saving her. She'll be fine..' Gwen isn't even really sure if she can trust her thoughts, as she lightly frowns. 'Right..?'

She closes her eyes for a second, before turning around to leave the medical wing.

She's only a few steps away from the door when an alarm goes off, flashing red lights going off all around.

"Code Red in Medical Wing B, Code Red in Medical Wing B."

"SHE'S GOING INTO SHOCK, PUMP IV FLUIDS AND GET MIGUEL BACK IN HERE, STAT!" The head surgeon yells to a nurse inside the room, as he rushes to get the fluids and calls Miguel on his watch.

Gwen rushes to turn around, as she sees the surgeons working hard to save you. Then she hears the doors slam open to her right, as Miguel sprints to the entrance of the room.

She can't bear to watch, so she doesn't. She runs, out of that wing, to your shared quarters.

She runs, just like she ran after Peter died, and after her dad aimed his gun at her, not even giving her a chance to explain.

She opens the door, moving inside, not sparing the outside a second glance. She slams the door closed, sliding down it, sitting down onto the floor.

Her eyes darted around the floor, not thinking of anything in particular, other than the obvious: that she just ran away from having to see another person in her life die. Especially one she cares so much for.

One that she cares so deeply for, that she would gladly spend everyday with, that she'd give her life for.

She raises her head, a grave realization coming to her.

"Ah, shit.." She furrows her brows, the smile on her face bitter. "I like her. Just had to realize this now, huh?" Gwen just shakes her head, biting the inside of her cheek, holding back everything else she's feeling.

Aka, everything else she's feeling that she hasn't allowed herself to feel, like loss, or anything other than the wall she put up for a while, which was promptly taken down by Miles, Pavitr, Hobie, and most predominantly, you.

And right now, all she does is sit there, thinking about how pissed she'll be at herself if she doesn't get the chance to tell you that she likes you. If she doesn't get the chance and you die, that's just another death she'll claim responsibility for, even when both you and her knew the risks.

She'll blame herself for making the multiverse lose such a beautiful smile, a selfless hero, a brilliant mind, and the girl she likes.

And again, it's only now that she realizes her stares, because back then, she took them as just admiration, respect. Especially when she looked at you in the gym, bench pressing, with Miguel spotting you. She thought that she reacted like, 'Holy shit, that's impressive!' But she was like, 'Holy shit.'

Regardless of what she used to think, she knows now. And she knows she has to tell you, if you live. And if you don't, she'll carry it to her grave.

She wishes she could just curl up into a ball and cry, but she has hero work. Anomalies to take care of.

In a rude interruption, someone knocks on the door, then it's accompanied by a light voice.

"Gwen, you okay? Open the door." Only Miles would have that soft of a voice, especially when speaking to someone who's just experienced something more than bad.

She pauses for a second, trying to think up an excuse.

"Uh, I'm changing, can't." Real smooth.

"Mhm. Okay. I'll wait." And there he goes again, with his caring demeanor.

Gwen rolls her eyes, standing from her spot on the ground. "Fine. Come in." She opens the door, allowing Miles to come inside, then quickly shuts it again.

She moves over to her bed, passing a cabinet with a couple of pictures on top, with her and you in them.

She looks at them, grabbing them after a moment of staring. In all of them, you're smiling, whether that be brightly or annoyed.

"I know you're probably feeling guilty right now. But it wasn't your fault. Risks come from being a spider-person, especially one that doesn't have a spider sense." At those words, Gwen just nods, the words going in one ear and heading out the other. She just walks over to her bed, sitting on the edge.

Miles can't help but cross his arms, furrowing his eyebrows. "That's not the only reason you're worried, is it?" He finally asks the question.

All this time, Miles was deathly sure that you liked Gwen. He knew that for sure. But he never completely expected to realize Gwen liked you back.

He always had that small thought in the back of his head, but nothing had ever come of it, until now.

When Gwen doesn't do anything but look down at her feet, it confirms Miles' suspicions.

He nods, softly smiling. Nothing needs to be said by either of them.

Miles had always liked Gwen ever since that super-collider brought them and the others together, including you.

Ever since then, she's been heavy in his head and heart, as so much of the stuff he drew during that middle year was just her. Even his mom called him out on it at one point, but he heavily denied it.

Right before the super-collider incident when you and the others were brought into Miles' universe, you were busy battling Loki, along with the Avengers.

He was beating you guys badly, until you temporarily got the upper hand. But then you got sucked into Miles' Earth, effectively making your Earth lose the battle with Loki.

When you came back, most of the Avengers were in critical condition, and your mother along with thousands of New York citizens, were dead.

You wouldn't have known. You couldn't have. Yet, everyday, you blame yourself for their deaths, because if only you had defeated Loki faster, right?

If only. That's all anyone tells themselves.

She still has the photos in her hands. She can't let go of them, because what if she loses you at that moment? Those photos will be some of the only happy moments of you two she physically has.

She laughs, for a split second, as she looks up at Miles, sitting up straight.

"She always had that same old dumb smile. Every time." Her smile is small, reminiscent of the many smiles you've had, and many of them pointed at her.

"Tell me more." Miles nods, a smile evident on his face, after getting Gwen to talk about something to cheer her up. He drops his arms from his chest, instead opting to drop his arms to his sides and loosely place them on his hips.

Of course, Miles feels sad that Gwen doesn't like him like that, but now wouldn't be the time to say anything like that. He instead focuses on giving her some comfort in your stead.

"After she smiled, she would like, laugh but it sounded like exhaling a breath, if that makes sense?" She'd take a deep breath, looking at the pictures again, softly smiling.

"She'll be okay. I know it. And if she isn't.." She quiets down a bit, slouching and placing her arms on her legs. "I'm not even gonna imagine that." She finishes off her words with an exhausted sigh. She casts the pictures one last glance, before standing and placing them back on the cabinet.

Miles follows her figure, his tone gentle. "Are you feeling better now? Need time?"

Gwen would nod at his words, always thankful for such understanding friends.

"Okay. I'll go. If you need something, don't hesitate to call." He gives her a thumbs up as he leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

For now, Gwen is more than content with her current thoughts about your situation, even with the slim chance you might not survive.

But she doesn't think about those odds. No, not for another second.

—————

Around 2 hours later, Miguel speaks to the doctors working on your spine, as they tell him they can't fix your spine.

"What do you mean, 'We can't fix her spine.' Huh? I've given you all the medical instruments of the future! Fix her damn SPINE." He looks at all of them, mentally and physically drained. His look of anger seems to dissipate when he looks at your body however.

"Her spine is beyond repair. There's too many shatters and fractures and missing pieces. She is quite literally better off with us removing her spine and installing a completely cybernetic one-"

"I don't want to hear it." Miguel sighs, his eyes looking at you on that table, bloody and unconscious.

I can't. When you need me most. Oh, kid..

He thinks for a moment, his face desperate.

You're strong, determined. So I'm hoping you can handle this.

He sucks up his pride, wearing a scowl. "I'll get you the fucking spine. Just.. make sure my kid's okay. And don't mess this shit up." He growls, only proving how serious he is.

They all nod, albeit a few of them scared. Then Miguel leaves the room, readying himself for a long night ahead of him, creating a cybernetic spine.

At that time he rushes to his lair, taking out some blueprints from when he was working in Alchemax.

He scrolls through various different types of cybernetic spines, some that attach to the intact spine to strengthen it, others that just line the spine, then there, full spine replacement cybernetics.

There's only a couple, due to the fact most of them were for cosmetic reasons. But out of the few there were, one stuck out to Miguel, a carbon black color, stemming from the part in the neck to the bottom of the pelvis.

"It looks chunky, but I'll admit, looks practical and badass." He pulls the blueprint down to his workstation, projecting it in front of him. "Okay. Hardest thing is probably how the hell the nerves are gonna work with this. But not my circus, not my monkeys."

Miguel takes a deep breath and cracks his knuckles, calling Lyla.

"Lyla, lock down the lab. I need absolute concentration to finish this in time."

"Hmm? Lock down the lab? What for?" She innocently asks, standing in front of him, on his left.

"You know why. Just do it, you know damn well you don't want the kid to die. She's the only one who tolerates your bullshit jokes." His voice takes an angered tone, as he grits his teeth.

"Alright, fine. But this wasn't for you." She locks down the lab momentarily, giving Miguel a peace sign before disappearing.

He mumbles under his breath about how much he hates her, but he won't do shit to change her.

Anyways, after his little issue with Lyla, he studies the blueprint, although it'd be so much better if his brother Gabriel was here. He always was better than Miguel at technological stuff.

Miguel clears his workstation of anything else other than anything regarding the spine.

"Time to get to work."

—————

Miguel works meticulously, yet still with a fairly quick pace. In around 11 hours, he has the spine done, and if he made it correctly, it should latch onto where the missing spine should be and 'solder' the nerves into itself.

"Hopefully.. this is good." He pauses before continuing to speak, to no one, other than Lyla, who is probably listening. "I need to rest." He breathes for a second, just taking a moment, before moving to deliver the spine to the surgeons, who right now, are probably taking short breaks while they wait.

He walks to the medical wing, the Spider Society HQ quite quiet for 5 a.m. Not many people are awake yet, seeing as Miguel pulled an all-nighter out of his ass to save you.

When he arrives, the surgeons look surprised, their eyes almost popping out of their sockets. Miguel currently looks like a ghost and a vampire had a child, and decided to never let it sleep.

"Here. I promised, and I delivered." Miguel's voice sounds strained, as he hasn't had many liquids either. He's just been so focused on saving you. Losing another person he loves, especially one he sees as a daughter would be devastating for him.

"Y-You got it?! Okay, we'll get right on it." For a few minutes, the surgeons just took a small break, maybe a few minor power naps. Because during the 11 hour period where Miguel was busy on the spine, they got on taking out your spine, part by part. So right now, you just look like muscle and fat, with your back opened up.

They were slow and steady, making sure to not take a risky shot at any point. Either way, they weren't expecting to see Miguel with the spine so soon, especially one that smells fresh off the factory line.

They carefully place the spine on a table, near your body.

At this point, they've given you so much drugs that not even a junkie would have taken this much in their whole life. But it keeps you down and out, so that's what they keep doing.

They disinfect the spine, as they lift it above you, ready to insert the brain stem part first.

All the while, Miguel waits, his face expectant. "Work.. Chingada madre, this better work." His eyes dart from your back to the spine, as they move it in.

The spine acclimates to the area, as it connects itself to the nerves. The surgeons have never seen anything like this, not in video games, TV shows, nothing. They slowly push the rest of it in, the last part in the pelvis a bit of a trickier challenge.

"Yes! YES!" Miguel smiles, his desperation turning into relief as he starts to cry, an unusual action for him. "Y-You're gonna be okay, kid." His breath hitches as he steps back, running his hands through his hair, then down his tired face.

The surgeons finally finish, after 14 hours of straight, hard, no sleep, work, they manage to save you.

They call some nurses to move you to a different room, gently placing you on the bed, hooking up all kinds of medical stuff to you, as Miguel stares at your bruised face.

He can't help but have a small smile on his face, knowing he managed to save you.

Thank God you're okay. Losing you would have sent me off the deep end.

I'm still going to ground you to high hell.

—————

3 days later, everyone's seen you in the hospital, resting. And at that time, Miguel stands next to your bed, arms crossed.

"Doctor says you should be waking up around now." His voice stays monotone, not wanting to let an inch of emotion out. "But I know you. You'll wake up unexpectedly and keep your eyes closed to surprise everyone." He'd chuckle, the corner of his mouth turning up.

There's silence for a few moments, before you start groaning.

Huh.. que chingadas..

You rustle around for a second, as Miguel's eyes stay on you. Slowly, you open your eyes, the lights of the room bright, as you get readjusted.

"Ugh.. my head. Jesus, f-" You don't dare finish that sentence the second you see Miguel right next to you. "Miguel.. Wh-What happened? How long I been out?" You try not to speak too loudly, given that you haven't spoken in the last 4 days.

"You've been out for a few days, kiddo. Anything hurts like you're gonna die?" He pulls a chair next to you, leaning back in the chair, arms on the armrests. "Or are you feeling good?"

You nod, your head still feeling a big groggy.

"No, 'stoy bien. But.. What happened? And where is everyone?" You sit up, touching your back and feeling the outside of the spine. You recoil your hand at the touch, as Miguel sighs.

"Ah, your spine was too damaged to repair. They.. removed the whole thing and I made you a new one. Like from that Cyberpunk 2077 game you like to play. And everyone.." He clicks his tongue, as he presses some stuff on his watch. "..is coming now."

You look happily surprised, a large grin making its way on your face. "Thanks Miguel. Siempre me ayudas cuando te necesito." He smiles at your words, as he pulls you in for a quick hug.

"Siempre, mija." He takes an affectionate tone, as he lightly squeezes your shoulder, letting go of the hug.

Not even a minute later, the 4 musketeers show up, with smiling faces.

Your eyes light up at their appearances, especially after seeing Gwen's relieved face. She smiles, and you can see that tooth gap you love so much. Then you see the cast on her arm, but decide to bring it up later.

Miguel follows your gaze, landing on Gwen. He looks back at you and just smiles, as they approach.

"Heard sleepin' beauty was finally awake from her kip. Gwenny here was in bloody shambles the entire time. We were too, 'course, but, ah, she barely slept, ate—" Gwen interrupts Hobie, nervously laughing, trying to keep her collected persona intact.

"He's uh.. exaggerating." She walks over to the right side of the bed, crossing her arms as she glares at Hobie near the head of the bed. "But I'm really happy to see you're okay."

Everybody else other than Miguel either awws, or oohs.

Meanwhile, you just keep your eyes on her, smiling like an idiot. "Thanks, Gwen. Means a lot to hear you say that." Then your eyes move to the three dudes bunched up together at the head of the bed.

"And you three, what no, 'Congrats on not dying!' shit? Nothing? Damn, leavin' me out to dry here."

Miguel enjoys the active atmosphere around him, but he has work to do, so he leaves, giving everyone a quick goodbye and you, one last hug.

After he leaves, Miles sits down in the chair Miguel was in, leaning back.

"So how long you gotta be here? Few weeks?" Miles asks, as he looks around the room.

"Not sure, I doubt a few weeks. Maybe another few days. Just gotta get used to the new spine, I guess."

"New spine? Fucking cool."

You spend the next hour talking with all of them, as they recap what's happened over the last few days you were out, nothing much.

After the hour's over, Miles is the first to say goodbye, as he has something to do with Margo. Then Hobie and Pav have training to do, as they said, 'He needs to learn to not be such a pussy!' 'Says you!'

Regardless, you don't mind as they leave, because that gives you some time to talk to Gwen, alone.

She walks to the chair, sitting down.

"I haven't asked you if you're okay yet, have I?" You turn towards her leaned back figure, wanting her to be completely honest with you.

"No, you didn't. But, I'm fine. Honest." You raise a brow to that, knowing she's not completely telling the truth.

"The cast?"

"Oh, this? Just to stabilize my arm after the break." Your heart drops hearing that, as you take a breath.

"Your arm broke?" You say, pausing as you look at it. "Shit." A mumble under your breath, as she sighs, gently punching your shoulder with her right hand.

"Yeah, it broke, but it's fine. I'll be fine, don't worry." She smiles, with a slight nod at the end.

You tiredly sigh, mindlessly grabbing at the blanket on top of you, thinking. "You know," You didn't use the 'y'know' combination, so Gwen knows this is serious. "The entire time, while I was out, you were the only thing I was thinking about." You keep your voice quiet, as your face expression is soft.

"I like you, Gwen. And I wanted to say that now because who knows if something like this happens again, to either of us, but we don't survive?" Your words are raw, coming straight from the heart.

Every time you've envisioned yourself telling her this, it's always been during a rainy day, particularly on the roof of the Spider Society HQ. Either way, you never got far enough to see what she'd say.

But now, you've shot your shot, and you're hoping you don't miss.

Gwen bashfully smiles, looking from your hand to your face. "I like you too. It took me a while to realize, but I know."

You turn your body slightly to face her, butterflies in your stomach. "Good. I thought I made it kind of obvious." A gentle laugh emanates from you, as she looks at you, from your smile to your nose, to your eyes.

"Obvious? I don't think you were obvious if I didn't catch on to it."

"No, you're just super oblivious."

She stands up, leaning on the guardrails on the bed. "Oblivious, huh?" She chuckles, leaning in.

You smile, moving a hair out of the way, then pulling her in for a kiss. Your hand moves to her neck, with your thumb on her cheek. Her soft lips connect with your slightly chapped ones.

It lasts for a few moments, before you separate, dumb excited grins on your faces.

"Was that obvious enough?"

"Hmm, no.. I think you'll have to show me again."

You laugh, looking all around her face, remembering every little detail, down to the last almost invisible freckle.

You'll never forget this, mainly due to the fact that right afterwards, your heart rate monitor spiked and some nurses came in and saw you guys. Now, that, you'll never forget, because Gwen was there with you.

(If yall are at all curious as to what the spine would be here it is, cyberpunk77 reference 🫶🏼🗣)

[howlingday]

Jaune's Shampoo

Nevermore

"DAMMIT, NORA!" Jaune opened his shower door. As he exited, he noticed his body had drastically changed. Using a mixture of his shampoo and experimental goo found at the fiendish Dr. Merlot's laboratory, Nora had unwittingly created a mutagen just to prank her team leader.

As Jaune stepped from the shower, he suddenly lost his balance and fell forward. However, instead of faceplanting hard into the tiled floor, it was more like his face kinda... stuck to it. He felt a huge pressure on his face from his nose to his forehead. When he opened his eyes, he saw that he was sort of... hovering. Off the ground.

He tried to push himself off the floor, only for his arms to sort of slide out, like he had no hands. Glancing to his side, he saw that he, in fact, did not have any hands. Instead of where his hand, arm, and skin were normally supposed to be, it was replaced by a huge, black wing, as dark and terrible as a night without the moon or the stars.

"HELP!" Jaune cried, only for his voice to uselessly echo back to him. He called again from his position on the bathroom floor, only to once again be met with his own voice, and nothing more.

"Jaune?" Oh, nevermind. Somebody did hear him. "You okay in there?"

"Uh... Not really." Jaune replied with discomfort in his voice.

"Well, are you decent?

"Uh... I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"I, uh... I'm kinda stuck after I fell out of the shower."

"Uh oh! Should I get the nurse?"

"Maybe? I don't know, I'm kinda scared. Could you get someone from Team RWBY?"

"I am Ruby!"

"Oh. Well, um, if you could use your leadership powers to unlock the door first, that'd be great."

"My what?"

"Your leadership access. In case of an emergency, you can use your scroll to unlock student dorms."

"...You mean I could have been breaking into the bathroom while Weiss was showering this whole time? Because seriously, she takes all day and-"

"RUBY!"

"On it!" Ruby tapped around on her scroll until she found the leadership feature and tapped the unlock application. "Hey, Jaune, did you know it can also unlock garbage cAAAAAH!"

Jaune sighed. "Hi, Ruby."

"Jaune, what the heck happened to you?!"

"I'm stuck!"

"Yeah, I can see that, but how did you get turned into a bird?! You look like a person-sized Nevermore!"

"Do I?" Jaune asked. "I couldn't really tell because I'M STUCK ON THE GROUND! NOW HELP ME UP!"

"Okay, okay!" Ruby stepped in and looked around.

"Ruby? Ruby, what are you doing?"

"I'm looking for a towel." She answered. "I don't wanna, y'know, in case you're contagious."

"Ruby, I am stuck to the floor with my butt hanging in the air."

"Well, yeah, but what if you have bird germs?"

"RUBY!"

"Okay, fine!" Luckily, in the middle of their bickering, Ruby found a towel to put over Jaune's butt. "Ready? One... Two... Three!"

Ruby pulled as hard as she could, grunting as Jaune slowly lifted from the ground to a more hunched position, an improvement from his more... provocative appearance before. With a scraping sound, Jaune fell backwards onto Ruby, earning a squeak from her, followed by a groan.

"Thanks, Ruby." Jaune said, trying to stand, only to slip forward again. Thankfully, he landed chin-first, instead of beak-first. Rolling over he got a better look at himself. Save for his bare chest, Jaune's entire body did in fact look like a Nevermore. He flexed his talon toes, aweing at the strange sensation of downgrading from ten piggies to eight, with three in the front and one in the back on each foot. Flexing his arms, his wings gave a little flap. Looking between his legs, he saw Ruby rubbing her head. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." She groaned, then standing up. "Wanna try standing again?"

"Uh, yeah, but, uh..." Jaune looked to the door leading to the shared dorm. "Could you help me walk to my bed?"

"Sure thing, Jaune."

Pulling him to his feet, Ruby slipped an arm under his wing and supported him in his slow, little bird footsteps to the dry and soft carpet floor. As she helped him, she became familiar with the smell of his shampoo. It was difficult to describe. At best, she could probably describe it as water and wood, which was dumb, but it was the best she could do, considering she was caring a guy to his bed, and he was somehow twice his normal size.

"Here we go." Ruby sat next to him, slowly easing him into his bed. Or, well, she hoped it was his bed, or this was going to be very awkward to explain. I mean, the whole thing was awkward, but-

"Huh?" Ruby felt something moving around behind her head. Looking to Jaune, she saw him leaning back and twirling his 'beak' into the back of her hair. "Uh, what are you doing?"

"Sorry." Jaune pulled away. "Your hair looked like it needed a brush or something, so..."

"Oh, uh, well... Go ahead." Ruby leaned forward a bit. "I don't mind it."

"Thanks."

Nora looked through the crack in the door. Above her, Yang was recording everything on her scroll. It was weird that this was the result of Nora's earlier prank, but hey, at least they got this cute video to share with everybody. And to be honest, Yang couldn't remember the last time Ruby looked this happy.

[solaneceae]

blind devotion

a team bolas oneshot. codebreakers-centric (philza and étoiles) (read on ao3) found family, ambiguous relationships, fluff @apthotiosis tagging u because codebreakers heehee

“They’re not crow wings,” Jaiden remarks, tracing the sharp edges of the long feathers meant to catch on updrafts. “They’re too big. And you got extra bones and joints going on.” Phil hums, a hesitant eeeeeh with a twist of his hand. “There’s some crow in there. But most of it is actually—”

“Elytra!” Baghera quacks, awe lacing her voice as she croons over the white diamonds that appear beneath the grime and dust she’s cleaning out. “You’re part Elytrian, Philza?”

“Not exactly,” he laughs, pointing at the very human features on the rest of his body. “I’m not actually a hybrid. Not like Jaiden, or even like you. Those wings were a gift.”

Étoiles perks up. “From Kristin, yes?” he nails down, perceptive as ever. The rest of the flock oooohs, a little chorus of yes, of course, makes sense. “I like your wife, Phil,” the duck smiles, brushing out a crooked feather. She remembers the Goddess’s voice, soft and warm as late spring’s sunlight, pouring out of Phil’s mouth as she borrowed his body to greet them. “She’s so nice.”

“She’s awesome,” Étoiles nods, unseeing eyes reflecting invisible stars. He cannot see anymore, he’s told them, but he still fights like he can, somehow. “I see her, sometimes, when I don’t have enough sugar and I almost die. She tells me to take better care of myself, but I’m dumb and shit so it keeps happening.”

“T’es con,” Baghera chastises him, slapping the back of his head, and Philza snorts at their antics. He’s so glad Étoiles joined them, the memory of his expectant frame almost vibrating out of itself when the old crow-not-quite-a-crow approached him at Global, just the day before. The words had barely left his mouth and the warrior had dropped to his knees before him, like a worshipper before his deity made man. I am your arm, your sword, Étoiles had said to him once, long ago. Felt like long ago. Just tell me where to hit.

A wave of fond-flock-yesyes, the Angel of Death pulls Étoiles forward to shelter him within his wings. “Aaah, Philza, Phil,” Étoiles laughs as his friend pecks at his hair, crooning incessantly. “The goat, oh, he’s moving so good! So good aim!”

“No mames.”

“No maaaaames man.”

“Shut up dude,” Phil wheezes, a huge smile on his face as he runs his talons through the frenchman’s tangled, white-faded locks. Yesyes. “I’m having a moment.”

“Oh? He has a moment, okay. I fuck myself, I don’t move, I get it.”

“Oh my god, stop.”

“I want to see you fly,” Étoiles says, quieter. Almost a whisper, that has everyone tilt their head in focus. “I didn’t see you fly, that’s bullshit. It must be beautiful, to see.”

Phil flashes him a wry grin. “Maybe. They’re pretty fragile, still. I don’t want to fuck them up all over again. Pretty sure the Feds will just clip them once we get back anyway, so.”

“Fuck them!” Baghera screeches indignantly. “Not letting that happen. I kill them first.”

“It’s fine. Just gotta enjoy ‘em while I got ‘em.”

Étoiles pouts at that, mumbles something in rapid-fire French that sounds rude. Phil hums and cups his face with a low trill, talons rapping on the space between his skull and neck, feather-soft. His friend blinks, cloudy silver. “What do I look like to you?” Phil asks, feathers ruffling as he spreads his wings wide, his fellow avians shifting to avoid being smacked by them.

Étoiles smiles, all teeth and greenish gums. “Like home,” he says, and it’s such a silly yet earnest answer that Phil could kiss him into silence. Mine, his hindbrain thrums, fierce possessiveness curling around his heart, and Étoiles laughs, that airy, high-pitched wheeze of his, because he’s making bird noises again. “And he says, he says he’s no hybrid, this man?” he mocks, tackling Philza to the cold floor of their cave to wrestle him into submission. “He’s a liar! Lies! You know who you are, Felipe Minecraft! Embrace it!”

“I am- fuck, get off,” Philza growls, play? play? Swoops Étoiles’ legs from under him to pin him down and they’re both laughing, batting at each other’s faces, talons carefully curled inward to not slice at dark green skin. Baghera and Jaiden cheer them on from the sidelines, loose feathers flying here and there, a viney tail wrapping itself around his leg as they roll and swipe and snap their teeth at each other’s necks, play, play! 

Étoiles loses at some point, freezes when sharp claws brush against his jugular. “Oh, he’s too good,” he smiles, tired and fond. “He’s good, and I’m shit. GGs.”

“Don’t say that,” Phil rolls his eyes, but doesn’t draw away. Étoiles’ eyes are squinted in twin crescent moons, and he doesn’t know if he wants to pluck them out to wear like jewellery or forget himself in them. “You. Are the best,” he chirps, pressing his forehead against the other man’s, flock, mine. hello. “I chose you. And I only choose the best for my family.”

“That’s us,” Baghera gasps — she and Jaiden have taken to preening each other instead, her bill ruffling through dark blue and green to dislodge specks of dried blood and sand out of her flockmate’s wings. “Bolas family, yes!”

“You picked Roier first,” the warrior whines, hands pawing at Phil’s chest, not quite pushing him away. “You like him better, no? He’s better, stronger. I don’t blame you.”

“Cellbit wanted him. I wanted to make him happy.”

“Oh, he is,” Jaiden huffs. “They’ve been snogging in the nest all evening. It’s cute and all, but I can only take so much kissing noises until I gotta vomit.”

“Hater!” her sister teases, bonking her bill against her cheek. “You’re just a little hater, let them be gay and happy.”

“They can be gay and happy and not slobber over each other.”

“I kinda like it,” Slime pipes up from his hole in the ground. Jaiden quirks an eyebrow at him. “...You need to get over Cellbit, dude.”

“Whaaaaat? You’re talkin’ nonsense. Put your mask back on, the fumes got to you.”

“Don’t you have Mariana anyway?”

“I don’t see your point.”

“Roier is Roier,” Phil cuts them off, catching Étoiles’ wrists to push them down against the stone. Mine. “You’re you. Cellbit wanted him, I wanted you. Simple.”

“Yeah?”

“Uh-huh.” A croon, their noses brush together. Jaiden makes a gagging sound, which makes Baghera cackle. What am I doing? “Phil?” He blinks. His friend is looking up at him, eyes crinkled up in amusement, fang poking out from beneath his upper lip. “I’m already yours. You don’t need to go all birdbrain on me.”

“Sorry.”

“Nah. Don’t be sorry, be the GOAT that you are.” Étoiles pushes himself up, and Philza lets him. He tilts his head to the side, like he always does whenever he’s mapping out his surroundings. “Phil, Phil,” he nudges at the crow’s shoulder, vine-tail thumping against the ground in renewed vigot. “PvP check, yes? Sticks?”

“Bruh.”

“Come oooon.”

“We’re actually ahead today, let’s not die and mess it up.”

“Rhoooooo…”

[cozzzynook]

Part two of BeeWaveWave

The sounds of metallic paw pedes hitting the pavement outside the cave rung like canons in his audio’s.

Thundering pede steps always seemed to echo not too far behind as if she’d been leading the mech wearing a chain set and yet he knew that was impossible. Ravage was like Soundwave’s sparkling, in all intents and purposes she is Soundwaves sparkling making her Shockwave’s sparkling by conjux default. No way they’d make her wear something as demeaning as a chain set.

‘Focus bee, focus,’ he whispers for fear of being heard even in his own mind, but once Soundwave lands he will have to.

A whirring crackle, a low screech far above from the clouds and the telltale signs of transforming echoed not long after. Those pede steps were lighter, a lot lighter, than the other mech tracking him.

‘Okay, okay Bee. Breathe. You can do it. Just breathe. In and out, slowly. You’ve managed to avoid them this long, just remain quiet,’ Bee assured himself, lifting a tired servo as best he could before stilling. Silence engulfed the large cave.

The fluttering in his abdomen made him go stone still and the little servo and pede he felt press against his side made it difficult to suppress his wince. But it seemed luck was on his side at the moment. Rain had begun to fall heavily around them and the cracks of lightning and thunder illuminated the space in the back of the cave. Bumblebee could see their shadows getting closer and he hoped they couldn’t see his.

Another tiny servo pressed against his side and he felt a pede kick the top of his gestation tank hitting his chest plating. He couldn’t hold back the sharp vent that escaped him and he felt the pull on his spark as his twin sparklings felt their sires close by. They could sense Shockwave and Soundwave whenever the two would get close. He’d been so sure the two mechs would’ve given up on him months ago like his teammates seemed to.

They stopped sending out search parties a few weeks ago, he knew they were worried about him and they wanted him to come back. But he couldn’t. He felt so guilty just leaving them like that and abandoning Raf had been the worst. The little human was a child and his spark hung heavy not taking him with him. As a carrier it was in his nature to dote on children and others yet he ignored it largely for the simple fact his teammates didn’t know, not even their medic Ratchet.

There were things he kept from his team that he never wanted them to know. If they could see him now, less bulk and more slim his actual frame without welded on additions that looked natural. They would ask too many questions and he didn’t want anybot knowing. Not even Optimus, he was just too ashamed and afraid to tell his past secrets.

“Anything Ravage?”

The sound of Shockwave’s deep baritone voice made his optics spin and his sparklings press their little servos against his tank uncomfortably. He couldn’t stop the minute gasp that left his guarded dermas, servo darting to hold the tender mesh of his swollen abdomen. His sparklings were growing restless in his tanks as they heard the vox of their sire nearby. He felt a shift behind him and Bumblebee just knew it was Soundwave. The mech had a way of keeping so silent while letting his presence alone vastly incase the area with intimidation and a demand of capturing any mechs attention. It was a trait both himself and Shockwave admired about the bioluminescent mech, one Bumblebee wished he wasn’t at the receiving end of.

He couldn’t help but focus in on the quiet mechs behind him, the tiny pitter of gravel shifting under Ravage’s paws. The soft shift of Frenzy’s talons no doubt on Soundwave and the low retraction of Ratbat escaping free of Soundwave’s chassis covering his spark. A shiver of panic erupted in his closed off EM field pushing his inner processor circuits to heat uncomfortably as he feared discovery.

After all this time, all his careful tactics and plannings, sure to lay low and avoid the two mechs who continued their search for him far longer than he originally anticipated. They searched with more depth than his former teammates did and though it broke a part of his spark painfully he also felt a mix of fear at being discovered in such a vulnerable state yet elation at the two feeling more for him aside from being only berth partners. He knew such feelings were dangerous yet he couldn’t help himself. Bumblebee was utterly infatuated and enamored with the two intelligent mechs behind him.

The sound of a plasma cannon beginning to hum to life itched Bumblebee’s audios briefly and he felt his spark drop in utter horror. He heard a heavy pede step forward and a much quieter pede inch closer to the large bolder he hid behind. Sounds of the air being sniffed greeted his audio receptors and Frenzy’s wings fanning open was met as the bird took to the air and he felt Ratbat closing in on him. His servos clasped tightly to the soft mesh on his tank as his sparklings squirmed inside him. Caught between wanting their sire’s affection and presence to reacting at their carriers fear and rapid pulsing spark.

His servos laid protectively on his wide stretched out tank as his pedes shifted quietly. He tried to brace himself to stand, get his stabilizers ready to run at a moments notice though the little yellow and black mech knew it would be in vain. His frame was far too weighed down and tired to move as graceful as he once did and his joints were howling in pain as the circuits in his hips and joints ached with every movement. He knew he was far bigger than most at this stage, carrying two sparklings would drain even the strongest of mechs and seeing as his frame had always been on the smaller side he was truly at a disadvantage.

Boom.

The loud noise and earth moving explosion caused the mechs behind him to dart their attention away from him. The sounds of a series of transformations occurred and Bumblebee could hear his teammates outside the cave begin firing at the five cons. He’d never heard Shockwave sound an angry grunt before nor had he known the mech’s blaster could cover such a large range of space. Soundwave seemed to hold the same sentiment blasting at the group with great precision as he no doubt silently commanded Ravage, Ratbat and Frenzy to attack.

Bumblebee took the moment to use the distraction to his advantage, lifting himself as quickly as he could the former scout waddled at a quick pace towards the back entrance of the cave. Taking his leave out back he hurried away from the battle, remorse sticking to his spinal struts as he left his teammates to fight opponents only Optimus and Ultra Magnus could truly take on.

His servo clutched at the sharp kick to his side that left him staggering. For a moment he feared he was going into emergence but when he felt another at the top of his tank, his little protoforms developing frame pressing against his vents, he struggled to sigh relieved as he slowed his pace. He had no choice but to waddle steadily along the path his navigations system reported would take longer to reach the abandoned decepticon base but it was worth it. He wanted to reach the abandoned cave before nightfall as he didn’t have the best night vision and he was sure his sparklings would wear him down further. He needed enough rest to begin repairing the old space bridge so he could transwarp to a neutral planet.

It was his best bet towards getting to safety for not only himself but most importantly his innocent sparklings. He did not want them knowing war or the darkness of their universe, realistically he knew they would eventually but he did not want them born directly into it. He wanted them to at least have a safe sparklinghood unlike himself who was born at the beginnings of war. He could barely remember the beauty of Cybertron. Everything even its beauty, held horrors at every corner. But he supposed that was the price to pay for such uncivilized treatment towards certain factions of their military mechs and the unspeakable horrors they let exist by having a caste system.

Memories of his carriers gray and lifeless frame dripping energon over his thin squirming protoform came to his processor. He shivered letting out a painful whirr as his vox shook, a protective servo rested against his tank rubbing at the protruding mesh being pushed out by a set of two tiny servo’s. They weren’t even bigger than his digit yet they held such power over him. He would keep his sparklings safe, he wouldn’t let them fall in the hands of either side of this war.

No matter how desperate his spark and sparklings were at having the sire’s by their frames, speaking softly to the growing lives inside him. Gently caressing his mesh tank as they grew, face plates housed in the crook of his neck cables they were always so tender with, he would not allow even them the knowledge of their existence.

‘I’m so sorry for keeping this from you,’ and in that moment, as a drop of coolant leaked from his optic, his helm tilted towards what would become his past. He allowed only one sob to wrack his frame before walking towards his and his sparklings future.

‘I’m so sorry.’ If Bumblebee felt his spark break he ignored it in favor of waddling on with one goal in his processor.

Making it to the base had been harder than Bumblebee thought. By the time he reached the abandoned site his pedes were on fire, his ankle plating almost popped from his swollen circuits and mesh and his hips joints were grinding painfully in need of some serious oil. He couldn’t stop the heavy vents shaking his chassis painfully as he tries to cool his systems and get some rest. He overworked his already exhausted frame even with the frequent breaks and long rest stops his sparklings and frame demanded of him. He was halfway through carrying and already felt he was about to pop he couldn’t fathom trying to do this the further he got closer to his sparklings emergence. Bumblebee couldn’t fathom having to do anything more than lay on his back during his last two months of carrying. He wasn’t sure how he was going to be able to earn his keep once he got to a neutral planet if the rumors weren’t true.

Hi He was hopeful they were it’d be a dream come true if he could be provided with fuel, shelter, carrier and protoform energon along with a i guaranteed future job after healing from emergence. Bumblebee knew it was a stretch hoping to make it to a neutral planet that would be willing to help him if they found out who he was before becoming an autobot. But to get that far he’d have to get off his lazy aft and sit up so he could start working on repairing the damaged space bridge.

His back strut was killing him even as he laid on the floor with his arm guards trembling as he tried to get himself to move. His shoulder plating was unusually sensitive as it rubbed against the ground. Bumblebee couldn’t stop the static whimper that left his vox when a particularly hard kick against his internal upper mid section. It felt like his sparklings were hard pressed to make him rest by discomforting him even if it grew painful for him.

‘I won’t be getting up anytime soon,’ his digits brushed against his chassis right above his spark chamber. With the knowledge he remembers from his time learning about sparklings in that…house, he knows his spark chamber shouldn’t be this swollen still. Either it meant a virus or his sparklings were getting more energy from him because they were starved of their sires spark energy’s. He knew without a doubt the second was fact he just hoped he didn’t have a virus in his spark. A carrier’s immune system either strengthened or weakened and he could no linger deny his was weakened.

He wasn’t exactly the healthiest sparkling himself what with no creators to care for him and his time on the streets weren’t exactly clean or filled with a substantial amount of energon for a growing sparkling. The nights spent hungry were all too ingrained in his processor and far too obvious on his armor-less plating. He made sure Ratchet never took them off during his exams or repairs and he was careful to avoid answering any questions Ratchet had about why his height didn’t match the bulkiness of his armor. Sure he wasn’t the shape of Arcee without it but he was close.

Truthfully without the armor he looked nothing like a solider and all the part of a carrier who used to work the streets as a—‘stop,’ he urged his processor. He didn’t need to let his thoughts go down that road. They were already a jumbled mess of scrap neurons no need to add more to his sobering glass thoughts.

‘In the morning, no excuses, get up and work on the space bridge, have to be gone before Soundwave and Shockwave find me again…’

His vents struggled to remain steady at the thought of the two con’s. His optics kept leaking long after he tried to force them not to.

“Rest, we will continue our search in the morning,” Shockwave spoke gently to his conjunx, feeling the exhaustion himself. Their intended had disappeared five months ago ever since they’ve been on a steady search for him while resuming their duties under Megatron. The gladiator was told in private confidence not as subordinates but old, long time friends that the two were in search of a specific autobot. While their leader was not pleased they were bedding and hoping to mate permanently with an autobot scout much less one so young in comparison to them, he respected the two mechs greatly, valuing their long held friendship and work relations. He promised no interference or harm towards the young mech even if he found their attraction to him odd and unsettling in their vast differences.

Even went as far to tease them a little to help lessen their burden and the weight of conversation until Soundwave flashed a picture of Starscream on his visor and played a clip of the seeker moaning Megatrons name. Soundwave played a mixture of clips using Knockout’s sass to tell Megatron he also has questionable tastes to which the gladiator champion blushed and told them to get out.

It was worth pulling a chuckle from Shockwave who seldom made such noises since their bee left. Soundwave could remember how much Shockwave would chuff and chuckle even grunt before the war broke out. He was expressive even after the empurata, never having lost his ability to love him. Soundwave was more than fine accepting his conjunx new ways of love and affection. No matter what Shockwave was still his mech whether he be a politician trying to better Cybertron or the scientist he’s only grown in spark for with each passing cycle.

But then Bumblebee came along.

It was…odd, feeling one’s spark pull in a new direction especially for an enemy no less but it seemed they were on the same page. The conversation hadn’t been too difficult especially when it happened in front of the very scout they found their sights resting on in battle and watching through footage supplied by Ratbat. Ravage had taken to teasing Soundwave and Shockwave asking if her, Frenzy and Ratbat would finally have a carrier. The comment made Shockwave stutter and Soundwave put her in a corner facing the ship’s wall. She was very upset at not being able to watch her favorite human show with Frenzy and Ratbat who turned it up so she would know she was missing out.

Soundwave found the punishment and sibling taunts suitable while Shockwave denied her access to lay on his large chassis. But that had been weeks before the two entered a revealing confession as they faced the autobot scout alone. When they made no move to actually hurt him instead watching him as he planned an escape against two opponents he knew he could not beat alone, they were confused as to why the scout put his weapon away and took a step closer.

A head tilt was the scouts response when he stood a few feet from Soundwave, Shockwave was ever curious but also protective as usual though Soundwave knew the scientist never doubted his capability. Both were on guard while planning no real harm to the shared object of affection before them should Bumblebee surprise attack.

But the scout didn’t attack them. He merely shocked them by placing his servos over their chassis feeling the beat of their sparks with shaking digits. His optics never met theirs but his low beeps and chirps as he spoke a cybertronian language their processors recognized as street dialect they moved in on him.

Naturally, Shockwave spoke for the both of them telling the scout of their interest in him and to the older mechs surprise the scout spoke of his own desire to learn more about the two. It was during a fight for the bone when Shockwave uttered a Kaon curse that Soundwave repeated later using Shockwave’s vox recording before entering the bridge after being hit did Bumblebee grow interested in the two mechs as more than enemies.

He spoke in beeps that mimicked a younger generation of Kaon dialect that the two mechs recognized and intrigue took hold of the three mechs. The sound of battle ending broke them from their conversation and the scouts pleading optics pushed the two to give him a meeting time and destination. With a promise to bring no backup on either side and no hostile intention an agreement was made.

Of course they knew the scout was naive but even Bumblebee knew to take a bit of precaution and he did. Watching the two for a few hours before showing his frame and keeping a distance. He really had come alone and so did the older two mechs save for Ratbat strapped to Soundwave’s chest but Bumblebee paid no mind to him. In fact he reversed on instinct when Ratbat left Soundwave’s chest and laid on Bumblebee’s dash getting comfortable.

When he saw no ill intent and Ratbat really had wanted to rest he warmed his engine and began to chat with the two intelligent cons. Beginning a strange relationship that delved from enjoying spending time together to a more passionate relationship.

As a carrier Bumblebee would fall into a heat like state but because of some viral pills he’d buy off an underground mech, he didn’t have to worry about them. But something happened one night. One night he felt hot all over and his vents couldn’t keep him cool. He’d made it to their meeting spot only to feel his spark pulsing throughout his entire frame. He could feel a tremble in the ground and knew Soundwave and Shockwave were here. Bumblebee wanted to try and leave when he felt his valve grow slick with fluid but he couldn’t move. He felt a shiver as he dripped from his lower plating feeling it hit his pede to feeling Soundwave’s servo touching his inner thigh cables. His optics were growing hazy but the feel of Shockwave’s chassis on his didn’t make things better.

Being trapped between two bigger and stronger mechs had his carrier protocols on overdrive and his heat cycle hit full crash the moment he felt them brush their servos along his tank and waist. From there the relationship moved from deep chats in lone canyons to buzzing and beeps with heavy grunts and clangs in the berth. The two mechs never got a straight answer from the young mech on why he was so revved up that night. They agreed in private to wait for Bumblebee to tell them why but the scout never did.

The same thing happened just a month before he disappeared as well. Growing hot and leaking so much his valve covering couldn’t contain it. Bumblebee was hazy in the optics just like that night and his frame was more sensitive than normal but the yellow bug begged so beautifully and they knew pushing him would make him shut down so they took care of him. Serviced their bug to his sparks content for an entire week filled with constant overloads and a pleasure drunk bug. No one on base questioned why Soundwave and Shockwave spent so much time in their hub suite or the noises coming from it.

The two were curious as to how their bug would explain missing from his team for a week but Bumblebee said he’d come up with something. Shockwave didn’t believe him for a second immediately saying Bumblebee shouldn’t be foolish and that they’d help orchestrate something but Bumblebee was stubborn. A trait they both liked and disliked about him.

Said trait is most likely whats keeping their bug from being found as they discovered he was not in the clutches of the government nor at the autobot base. There were no other bots on planet Earth that could’ve taken him to their knowledge like they originally believed. So the question remained, just why was their bug hiding from them?

Tilting his helm, he looked at Shockwave before leaning in and resting on his wrist cables. Nuzzling against the soft material brought him some peace but it did little to sway his worry over Bumblebee.

“We will find him. That I am sure of.”

With a nod, Soundwave joined his conjunx in a berth that felt too big for just the two of them.

A buzzing of beeps and static echoed the once abandoned space, Bumblebee managed to get into a sitting position but standing proved to be almost impossible, something he didn’t have time for.

He felt it in his spark that Shockwave and Soundwave would pick up where they left off, they always did, he just knew the two would be closing in on him soon and judging by how damaged the space bridge was inside the abandoned cite he would never have enough time to fix it before they showed. What with his need for frequent breaks and all the destroyed and missing parts he was sure he couldn’t fix it anyway. It had been a fools dream thinking he could work on the space bridge and get to a neutral zone. He would have to have his sparklings on Earth where war resided and peace was in an alternate future. On an Earth where decepticons and autobots would take his sparklings and use them for their own selfish gain. His sparklings would never know peace, their home planet, the comfort of his servos and spark beat if they’re taken.

The comfort of their sires that he denied them by keeping them secret from everybot…

If there was one thing Bee hated it was the emotional toll his carrying took on him. He could just go for a long drive when things became too much but now, now he had to sit and leak because he couldn’t transform. His field was all over the place as he sobbed angrily. The situation, the war, his heat, his failed viral pills, himself for getting involved with the two cons he wished were by his side.

Everything.

A rough punch to the tank made him wince and a servo pushing against his vents left him stuttering and his engine whirring. It took time to calm down and lower his internal temp but when he did he felt exhaustion claw at him. With wandering optics he looked to the space bridge he couldn’t repair and felt defeat. ‘Might as well rest,’ he grumbled managing to shuffle against the wall in the corner. With his back laid against the cool surface he let out a vent watching his tank expand a little further before going back to its usual plump. Resting his servo in the middle he felt the two settle, four tiny servos pressing against his as he shifted to get somewhat comfortable before shutting his optics and falling into recharge.

He was woken by the sound of a heavy pede hitting the ground and a lighter set of pedes following closely. Little twitters met his tired and sluggish audios not long after a set of low growls filtered the air and his sluggish processor was so exhausted he almost didn’t question the two em fields he recognized as Shockwave and Soundwaves. He was still half in recharge against the wall in his corner when Ravage pattered inside with Frenzy on her back strut before taking to the air and going on look out at Soundwave’s silent command.

Ratbat returned to Soundwave’s chest plate when he stepped in the room and Shockwave looked at the area before resting a hand on Soundwave’s hip plating making the mech stop and eject his sound pulser. When Shockwave didn’t raise his blaster he lowered his own weapon but didn’t sheath it. Instead he turned his helm to search the room for any signs of life and he gave a nod to Ravage who sniffed the air.

Shockwave’s heavy pede steps knocked Bee out of his half recharge daze making his spark drop as he realized he was cornered and had no way out. The space bridge was not an option, transforming and high tailing it out of here was impossible and escaping without being seen by the others didn’t even bother traveling in his thoughts. With how much his frame hurt he didn’t think he would be able to rock and wobble his way onto achinf stabilizers. He was going to be caught and there was nothing he could do but try to buy himself time to mentally prepare. But even with all the time in the galaxy he would probably never be ready.

He struggled to vent slowly, his spark chamber felt cramped as his spark pulsed wildly and tried reaching out to the two mechs. A painful silent gasp ripped from his vox as his tank lurched at the powerful kick directed towards his private plating. It felt like his sparklings were trying to kick him into an early emergence with how hard they just slammed their little pedes into him. He felt nausea bubble in his tank at the pain he was in, he worried he was going into early emergence.

Laying a trembling servo over his sensitive stretched out mesh tank he tried to calm them, hoping it was just anxious zap circuits in his processor and frame making him worry but as he felt Soundwave and Shockwave step closer to his shaking frame a harsh punch to his vents made him gasp audibly and he felt his tank lower.

The room grew completely silent, Bee could hear the pulse of his spark pounding in his audios, the tremble in the ground as the two came closer, the tensing of Ravage’s frame as she sniffed the air one last time. Optics darting in his direction before a set of rushed pedes marched over to him just as he let out a yelp of pain feeling his private platings gush out fluid from his gestation tank.

The two mech stopped right in front of their scout, red optics wide as they took in the sight of him. Servo clutching painfully at his distended round tank trailing towards the puddle of fluid under his after spilling from his closed private plating. His optics were flickering in pain as his vents tried to even out. Neither mech could move for what felt like mega cycles though they knew that was not possible.

The situation at servo was just extremely shocking and completely blindsided them. They almost didn’t react when their scout lurched forward with another painful expression crossing his face plates as he whined terribly while clutching his tank. It was Ravage biting Soundwave’s ankle strut that caused the silent mech to spring into action. Rushing forward to wrap an arm around his young partner, rubbing the side of his tender tank as he summoned a ground bridge that led straight to Knockout’s medbay.

The medical mech would have questions but his first priority would’ve been to rush Bumblebee to surgery. Soundwave was sure of it knowing the mech had a soft spot for carriers and sparklings. He rubbed a servo against Bee’s helm and the gesture seemed much appreciated as the younger leaned into it trying to even his vents.

Shockwave felt Ravage’s teeth enter his pede and he grunted making her let go. He looked down to see worried expression as she jumped to Bumblebee’s other side rubbing her helm against his tank softly with a worried rumble in her engine. That was all Shockwave needed to free himself of his frozen state as he charged forward gently picking the younger mech into his arms. With Soundwave’s help he was able to better grip Bumblebee who focused on venting and trying to relax as best he could but in active emergence there wasn’t much he could do.

Shockwave was urgent in his stride through the ground bridge with Soundwave, Ratbat, Ravage and thankfully Frenzy in tow. The bridge closed behind them and Shockwave with Soundwave’s help settled Bumblebee onto the medical table where Knockout immediately set to work.

“How far along is he?!”

“Five months,” Bumblebee whined strained as he gripped the berth before accepting the servo’s Shockwave and Soundwave offered him. The three con’s grew silent with em fields of panic at Bumblebee’s admittance and Knockout rushed through his medbay grabbing various tools.

“Out, both of you. Its too early for him to be in emergence and I need the lab calm and empty as I perform surgery to stop the process,” Knockout rushed as he began to sterilize his servo’s.

Shockwave and Soundwave knew it was logical what Knockout was saying but the two felt the need to stay beside their scout even if it wasn’t helpful. But Ravage’s snout nudging them out made the two reluctantly leave. Standing at the door as they waited and listened to Knockout work on Bumblebee.

“He was sparked,” Shockwave said the statement with disbelief coloring his field and Soundwave returned the feeling with fear added.

“Knockout is an exceptional medic with history helping carriers even high risk carriers, he is no Ratchet but he is capable…though..I wish it had not come to this.”

A nod from Soundwave and Shockwave stood closer to the mech, “he ran because we sparked him. That night we first interfaced and the week of interfacing, it must have been carrier’s heat.”

A question popped on Soundwave’s screen and Shockwave answered, “underground viral pills or shots can prevent them from happening. Something must’ve occurred which caused his pills to become ineffective.”

There was an unbearable silence that weighed heavily on the two mech’s. It was true they welcomed a quiet atmosphere more often than not but being drowned in a blanket of nothing while their potential conjunx lay behind the thick metal door getting surgery to suppress their sparklings emergence, it was not a welcome feeling.

“Us,” his vox was as deep and imposing like his presence as he answered with blatant worry that only those who knew him could detect. Soundwave didn’t say more than that, he knew Shockwave understood what he meant immediately and pulling information files from his memory bank he concluded Soundwave was indeed, correct.

While he could admit his knowledge on carriers was far underdeveloped than he would have liked, what little he did know was that carrier’s could fall into heat whether naturally or introduced to a mech or femme they would like to mate and bond with.

“It seems our affections towards Bumblebee are not as one sided to the degree we once believed. His reaction as a carrier has proven it. Their frames only fall into heat naturally or, when coming into contact with a mech or femme they wish to bond and mate. Its enough to presume he was taking a heat blocker, a dangerous method but one he deemed necessary. There is but few possibilities on making it obsolete and seeing as he was not sick nor do i believe he stopped taking the medicine it is easy for me to conclude he wishes to bond and mate with us, permanently. But there are questions I have. A variable I do not understand.”

“Why did he run away? Why not tell us he was sparked with our offspring? Why did he go through the endangerment and reckless trouble to avoid us when he and the sparkling need us. Why leave us behind?”

Soundwave settled a servo on Shockwave’s shoulder plating over his canon arm. While it is more in Soundwave’s nature to worry when their bug is not beside them it is in Shockwave’s nature to hurt when having untold answers and feeling abandoned. His empurata did not stop emotions as well as the bots who did this to him thought but it did make certain emotions complicated to understand and work through.

“Scared,” his voice reasoned with an even tone.

Soundwave has always understood emotions better than most and he could take a guess on why Bumblebee decided it was best to run off and say nothing. And it is true he most likely knows why their bug ran off he still wants all the answers just as Shockwave does. Though this time when they get their answers he will ensure communication as a requirement even demand if need be.

The door to the medbay opened and Knockout almost fell on his skid plates if it weren’t for both Soundwave’s tentacle clasps and Shockwaves servo gripping him with demand.

“Status on Bumblebee’s condition?”

“Sparklings?”

Shockwave’s question and Soundwaves long unheard voice left him speechless for half a click but the through shake from Shockwave and the small short pulse from Soundwave made him squeal.

“They’re fine,” he rushed with a trembling vox. Clearing his synthesizing cables he stepped back with a motion of his sharp digit.

Standing beside the recharging mech hooked up to a carrier feeding tube, a carriers gestation tank mesh wrap to monitor their sparklings health and an oil and energon cable and circuit drip.

“I know it’s not at all ideal to see him like this but he is going to be okay. It was the stress and overexertion that put him into emergence. But since you found him at the beginning I was able to stop it. Even if his gestation fluid broke it wasn’t too late to seal his emerger plating and recoat the inner tank pouch. His frame was already beginning to replenish the necessary fluids when I got him stabilized with nerve static and protoform levelers. I’m more than happy to report he’ll be just fine.”

The medbay opened once more and the two stood on guard only to see Megatron and Starscream enter with a third in Starscreams servos.

“Did you remember to reconnect the carrier and sparkling cable line?”

The sparkling in Starscreams servos was beeping as it clasped the large thick clawed servo of Megatron who nodded towards the two before looking back down to take the sparkling from Starscream who tilted his optics at the sparkling with carriers concern and affection until he deemed his sparkling content. Ignoring the roll of Megatrons optics he went over to check the sparkling monitor on Bumblebee without touching the unconscious mech.

“His cord tubes aren’t strong like they should be thats another reason his emerge tank broke. He needs both your transfluid and spark energy especially if he’s gone this long without it. He’s a strong scout I’ll give him that,” Starscream uttered looking at the electric pulses of the sparklings that grew stronger as their sires stood close.

“It goes without saying you two will be by his side the rest of his carrying. Though I suggest keeping him on this side of the ship only. While we have no qualms about your relationship with the scout I’m certain others will.”

Megatron nodded his helm with a menacing frown as he held his own bitlet close that stuck their mesh servo into his intake that he carefully removed.

“Other decepticons have joined the Nemesis. Many of which I do not trust to keep close but will use for power and numbers. I’m in the process of having them stationed in old hideouts for both your mate and our sparklings safety.”

Soundwave and Shockwave nodded their helms in thanks as they listened. Remaining close to their scout who was still recharging, hooked to machines when he should be comfortable off his stabilizers in their shared berth. It did nothing to think on “what if’s” of finding him earlier so they did not. They simply planned for the course of action necessary now.

“Starscream, did you say cord tubes?”

Shockwaves sudden question had the room silent as Megatron raised an optic ridge before abruptly knowing, exventing to hid a laugh as Knockout looked between the two sire mechs flustered.

“We must’ve interrupted before Knockout could deliver the uh..news,” Starscream said looking sheepish at least before sliding towards Bumblebee and placing servo’s on his mesh tanks. “I’ll leave that to you Knockout, the sparklings aren’t in emergence position so thats good. Just keep the wrapping on him until he’s fully recovered. It’s better to be safe than take any chances,” the seeker said striding to his sparkling and conjunx.

“Give me my bitlet Megatron,” his demand was met with the warlord childishly raising their sparkling from the seekers reach as they strode towards the medbay entrance. “You’ve held my heir long enough besides it’s s my turn to enjoy their sparkling scent!”

Megatron rushed his pede steps once he realized he admitted to smelling his sparkling like a lovestruck sire instead of the leader of a fierce warring army.

The medbay doors closed and Knockout’s curses of demanding Starscream get back here were finally heard. His vox abruptly stopped when he felt Shockwaves optic and Soundwaves visor boring into him. “Ummm so funny thing,” he said taking a step closer to his patient, “you two handsome studs managed to spark him up, twice. So now you can expect to welcome in not one but two sparklings.”

The surprise didn’t show on either mechs em fields but Knockout attributed that to the two mechs handling the news better than most. He was correct of course, for Soundwave that is. He was just glad Soundwave was there to keep Shockwave from stumbling onto his patient whom he rushed to shield accidentally waking him.

“Nnn,” the sound of his patient waking immediately brought out all medibot instincts. Making him shoo the two sires back as he went about checking over all Bumblebee’s vitals.

“Listen to me carefully scout, you’re aboard the Nemesis medbay in my care. Your sparklings are safe and still inside developing protoform gestation. They are no longer at risk of emergence but you must take it easy. The sparklings sires Soundwave and Shockwave brought you here and are awaiting to see you. I have you hooked to a mesh wrap and tubes are helping fuel you, your sparklings and make up for the oil and liquids you lack.”

Bumblebee was fuzzy in the audios and his optics were blurry but he did understand what Knockout was saying. His frame felt too good to try and panic or fight so he nodded his helm and exvented when he felt his frame shift so a fluffer would help proper up his sides to take the stress off his middle.

“Thank you,” he groaned, forgetting a certain two mechs were beside him, watching as he melted into the medical berth. Yellow and black servos shook as they tried to lift up and cup his swollen tank. It was Soundwave and Shockwaves servos coming to the yellow mechs rescue that they were all able to feel the two sparklings kick their pedes and push their servos out.

Bumblebee felt his optics leak in so much relief he almost didn’t pay processor to the servos holding his own until he felt two familiar em fields washing over him.

Amazement. Startled. Affection. Elation. Relief. Attachment. Fondness. Warmth and woving Intimacy that fluttered into his spark chamber pulsing throughout his tank wrapping around the sparklings within him.

Bioluminescent tentacles wrap around him slowly lifting him carefully into awaiting arms that pulled him close.

“Don’t ever leave us again Bumblebee.”

“Soundwave and Shockwave: missed you greatly. Worried: greatly.”

Bumblebee had never heard Soundwave filled with such emotion directed at him before.

From the look of Shockwave’s finials flickering, his em field growing heavy in a vulnerable display to the way he kept his helm dipped to keep his optic close to both Bumblebee and Soundwave as said mecha’s engine began to rumble and purr with a soothing em field that further grounded them.

Bee felt something he never assumed he could have from the two.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered painfully as he retracted his mask to speak before an expel of oxygen roped his vocal cords in a vice making him shudder.

“Please, do not scare us more than you already have,” Shockwave stated tone unyielding as he checked over their scout while Soundwave comforted him.

Knockout had long left to give the two privacy, he was sure to be gossiping with Breakdown in their shared berthroom.

Not that the two cared at the moment, their servos were completely full with their scout and not one but two additions that they assured their scout was more than welcome.

Bumblebee was still having a hard time adjusting to the two returning his affections and care. Both Soundwave and Shockwave were knowledgeable of the scouts ability to become self-doubting and depreciative yet they had hoped their intentions with him were clear. They were not mechs known to be kind to just anybot let alone an autobot.

And yet they opened their arms, servos, sparks and home to Bee all in hopes he would sparkbond and join their union.

In hindsight they realize it would have been better to outright state their intent of courtship and show they were performing conjunx ritus and that Bee without even knowing had begun to do the same with the purest of spark intentions that came so natural they just assumed he knew.

Now they knew better and would outright state everything for the foreseeable future.

That- and Ravage, Laserbeak and Ratbat would not allow them to slip so heinously ever again.

“I like this one,” Ravage said without regard for how Bee would accept, simply jumping on the med berth, getting comfortable and curling into Bee’s side before falling into a light doze.

It was Ratbat fluttering to rub their helm with Bee’s that had Bee giggling at the soft tickle of fur. Lazerbeak chirped excitedly at Bee before fluttering off balance in excitement. Bee caught her midair with a shaky servo and before Soundwave could chastise them for disturbing the carrying former scout, Bee held Lazerbeak close and let her excitedly ask question after question as Ratbat got comfortable on Bee’s shoulder strut.

“I’m not sure if they’re femmes or mechas,” Bee answered with his mask back in its right place. Soundwave’s tentacles still carefully wrapped around him as he and Shockwave stayed on the strong berth soaking in the warm em fields surrounding them while shrouding the others and their space in protection and a softness none would believe possible.

“But however they emerge I’ll love them all the same,” Bee spoke with the emotion they’d heard carriers were so famously known for.

“But between us, I hope they are a mecha and a femme,” Bee giggled, “because I’m never doing this again,” he laughed making Ratbat flutter and Lazerbeak chirp.

Ravage lazily peered an optic at him then Soundwave and Shockwave who looked contemplative.

With a mirthful flick of her tail, Ravage knew those words would be in vain.

Now that those two spark sick idiots got their former scout back and saw him round with their younglings, she knew they would spark him up again.

She just hoped they would wait until after the war was done.

-

[hoseokslefteyebrow]

Weak

Pairing : More of a platonic Miguel O' Hara X Reader

Genre : Angst

Summary : Miguel hates feeling weak, something that you understand more than anyone else.

Request/story idea by: @quimerathetraveler

Wordcount: 0.9 k

Miguel O'Hara Masterlist

( A/N: I’m trying different personalities to see whatever works with his character best, lemme know what ya’ll think. )

Miguel's eyes dart all over the area. 

He's injured, badly. A deep gash is crossed over his ribs, and not even the spray supplied by his suit for emergencies is doing him much good.

On top of that, he's exhausted, years of taking care of the multiverse having caught up to him.

" Boss, we got hi- Oh, no." The voice of one of the spider woman who he's come to help speaks as she notices his injury.

He's hunched over, holding his side whilst taking rough deep breaths. He feels vulnerable, hates having everyone' eyes on him.

" Boss, we should get you help!-" MJ calls, taking her mask off.

" No. I'm fine. Bring the anomaly to HQ, I'll get there myself."

MJ is visibly distraught by his words, but does what he says, not wanting to face whatever negative reaction he could bring up in his pain.

As she disappears, he doubles over, nearly forgetting that Jessica and you are at the scene as well.

Jessica sighs deeply before reacting.

" Miguel, maybe we should help. I doubt you'd be able to get back by yourself-"

He glares from the corner of his eye at her.

" I can do it, just g-"

" No you can't. "

Now his eyes shift to you.

Admittedly, he doesn't know you really well, even though your powers are the only ones that are similar to his. You have talons, venomous teeth and superhuman hearing and sight as well. He's barely ever spoken to you before though.

" I-"

" Don't argue with me. I'll jab you in your wound if you're going to be a baby about it. " You scoff, your eyes showing disinterest as you move to help him.

He glares at you, but it doesn't seem to deter you in the slightest.

He's not necessarily surprised to. You've been through a lot in your own universe, the horrors you had to face giving you a pass without doubt into the spider team. You're physically not one of the strongest, but you're fearless, making you one of the stronger ones of the team anyway. It would take a lot more than his glare to shake you.

He can't help but feel puzzled and surprised as you lift his arm over your shoulder. You sync both of your watches, and soon enough you're tearing a gateway with your claws back into universe 2099.

Everyone is surprised when the both of you step into HQ, Jessica having gone back on her own.

Miguel hates the feeling he gets when everyone shares worried glances, them never having seen their boss so vulnerable before.

You must've noticed.

" What? Did none of you ever seen someone injured?" You call out roughly.

Most of the spiders turn their heads. All except Hobie, who gives Miguel a blank look as he so often does before nodding at you.

Hobie and you get along well, the only difference being that Hobie creates a lot of trouble and has quite a big mouth, whilst you refrain in the back. The calm before the storm.

Eventually, you carry him to the infirmary, and help him sit down on one of the beds.

" Will you be okay or do you need me to call a medic?" You ask, creating distance between the two of you again as you step back, leaning against a wall.

" I'll be fine." He says gruffly.

You nod, but don't move away.

He glances at you again, ignoring the sudden spinning in his head.

" What? You can go." He pushes.

" I'm waiting for you to pass out. I'll call a medic after." You tell him nonchalantly, crossing your arms over one another.

He sighs, knowing you're right. He needs help. He can't do it by himself this time. 

He doesn't want any more people to see him like this though.

" Can you.... help me?" He asks, looking away with an embarrassing pink dust on his cheeks.

Your eyes widen, surprise evident before they harden again, and you nod.

" I've never done this on someone else other than myself though."

You don't say anything else as you wordlessly get to work.

He tends to forget that you've been alone for a very long time before you joined the team.

You stitch up his wounds carefully, and honestly quite messy. He still rather has this than having more people see him like this.

When you're done, you run a careful finger over the stitches to make sure they're secure before stepping away.

" This is the best I can do. Good luck with it." You tell him, going back to your stoic demeanor.

You turn to leave, not expecting a reply, when he grasps your wrist with his right hand.

You tense in response, not being used to physical contact. Upon noticing it, he lets go.

" Thank you.."

You glance at him, your eyes not betraying your emotions this time as you nod.

" Yeah... Don't get used to it."

[alientee]

Christmas Cookies 🎄

This is a 18+ minors don’t interact and have your age in your bio. NOTHING BUT PURE SMUT. (Oral.M Receiving, spanking, spitting, cum everywhere) 2000 something words. AFAB reader

Sometimes you wonder why you chose this life. Your parents were gone, leaving behind you and two siblings. Not like they had a choice; they died in the omnic crisis. So you had to make a decision: die with your brothers going into the system, or live and protect them. So you made yourself useful until somebody picked you up.

Being a healer in Talon wasn’t so bad. You weren’t cut out for violence or war, and you were terribly shy. But you had to do what you needed to take care of your siblings. Plus, Doomfist and Moria were impressed with your progress in healing the troops, so you were moving up with the pay grade. You stayed in the background, stayed out of the way, and kept everyone alive, so your job was easy.

Well, your job would be easy if a certain tank didn’t take a liking to you. According to him, he had a soft spot for medics, especially sweet ones like you.Ever since you joined, Mauga has done everything in his power to get you to open up to him. Always asked Doom to bring you out in the field with him. He trusted you to keep him alive for some reason. He’d flirt with you, pick you up, drag you off with him, and even bring you dinner when you patched him up.

Sometimes you felt like he’d get hurt on purpose just to see you. He’s so huge that bullets don't affect him, so seeing him hurt made you a little skeptical. But with all the time and effort he put into you, sometimes they really would send you out on the field with him. He made you stay well hidden, or he carried you on his shoulder. Late missions had become late nights with you patching him up, listening to his crazy ideas, and telling you about his home.

You both had gotten close, but you think your shyness to speak up let it get out of hand. After a while, you grew to have feelings for him, and Mauga could tell; he was even a little smug about it. Mauga was touchy—really touchy—and overprotective; you didn’t realize what you got yourself into. To the point where other Talon soldiers would avoid you because, apparently, it was an unspoken rule that you were off limits.

And you were fine with that because people left you to your own devices. The problem was that you weren’t used to his overly sultry nature. Even after the large man had taken your virginity, (another story for another time.) You both went from being friends to him claiming you and doing whatever he pleased (with consent, of course). He never said if you both were a couple, so you didn’t want to put too much of your feelings into it.

But he made it very difficult, always being very kind to you or following you around. You decided it was best to avoid him until your feelings calmed down. You didn’t want to get so invested in him only for him not to feel the same. Your heart couldn’t take that kind of pain in your life again. So you did your best, and it paid off; you avoided him for a week. But Mauga got sick and tired of that real soon.

So here you were trying to avoid him on Christmas, thinking he wouldn’t be at work. You spent the day with your brothers so you could come in tonight. You were in the kitchen baking deserts for the team. You didn’t mind; you loved baking, plus you got paid extra for coming in today. You even put on a cute Santa dress and thigh-high socks. You already made a cake, gingerbread, pies, and even fruit muffins. The last thing left was the second batch of sugar cookies. You placed them in the oven and set a timer.

While you opened the oven, ready to put them in. You felt something hard press against your ass. The next thing you know, you’re lifted into the air. “EEK!"

You try to grab onto something, but you are set on the counter. And loa and behold, Mauga is standing right in front of you while in between your legs, smirking at you.

"M-Mauga, what the heck! I was baking.” He ignores you and starts to rub your cheek with his thumb.

“You make something for me, sugar?”

“U-um……. You can have a muffin if you want.”

He chuckles, "Nah, I think I want something else. I think you owe me a pie, sweetheart."

You quickly move to hand him a pie. "Here, take one!”

He looks at the pie, then back to you. He takes it out of your hand and sets it back down. He pushes you on your back against the cold counter. “Your funny; how bout a cream pie?"

“I can make you o-mmmh." Mauga cuts you off by shoving his tongue down your throat. He pushes your body down on the counter. He grabs at your thighs, squeezing them.

“Pretty thigh highs,” he says, running his finger along the socks. “It’s like you made yourself into a present for me.”

He starts to bite and nibble on your neck while putting his hand up your dress. His tongue licks up the side of your neck until he nibbles on your ear, and you shiver. You hated to admit it, but you missed his touch. His hands grip your ass, holding your lower half up. He scoffs and starts to rub at your covered folds.

“Lace panties, huh... I'm starting to think you really did dress up for me.”

You try to look away; it was an embarrassing position for you. And even if you told him you didn’t do it for him, he wouldn’t believe you anyway. He grips your chin,forcing you to look at him. “You miss me? Cuz it seems like you’ve been avoiding me lately.” You push him back a little.

"Mauga, you know I have siblings to take care of. I've been busy."

He looks down at you, frowning. He’s a firm believer that if there are 24 hours in a day, some of them better be for him. He slams you back on the counter, kissing your forehead. “If you’re going to make excuses, I won’t go easy on you.”

He moves back to push up your dress, rips your panties off, and leans down. “Spread those fucking legs; show me that pussy.”

You spread your legs, and he spat on your pussy, making you gasp. He slides his tongue over your cunt and starts to finger you slowly. "Mauga, we can't; we’re in the kitchen.”

Mauga hums in agreement, his tongue diving deep into your wet folds. He licks and flicks your sensitive spots, making you squirm with pleasure. Before you could grab his hair, he moved away, making you whine. Mauga chuckles and pulls you closer, his hard cock rubbing against your ass. “Thought we couldn’t do it in the kitchen?" He grabs a handful of your ass cheek and squeezes it roughly, causing a pleasurable pain to shoot through your body.

“Wanna watch your ass jiggle while I fuck you.” He throws you over, putting you on your stomach. "M-Mauga, wait, maybe we should wait till I’m done cooking.”

He paused for a moment, looking down at you. “You may not think I know what’s going on in that head of yours, but you’ve been acting insecure and putting up walls, then you started avoiding me, so im gonna show ya you can’t leave me your mine and I’m yours got it.”

You start to tremble and turn around to look at him. “I’m…. I’m yours?” He doesn’t answer; he’s still holding your body up. You realize all you can do is hold on and take what he gives you. Mauga teases you for a moment, rubbing his tip at your entrance. He starts to slowly push his cock inside you, filling you up with each inch. He slowly thrusts in and out, causing you to moan in pleasure. On instinct, you arch your back for him. “That's it, baby. That’s my good girl."

He reaches around, grasping your breast and squeezing it hard as he continues to fuck you. Mauga growls while his cock is pounding against your wet pussy. He grinds his hips forward, pushing deeper into you. You feel him playing with your nipples, pulling them roughly, and you cry out in pleasure. He pulls back slightly, then slams his hips forward again, burying himself to the hilt inside you. You scream his name as he starts to fuck you harder and faster.

Mauga smacks your ass, rubbing the cheek softly to ease the sting. "I think you deserve a punishment for dodging me; how bout I spank that cute ass, hm? Redden you up a bit.”

“Maug-ga! I’m close! Please!”

He smacks your ass harder this time. Pushing your body into the counter as his hips smack your thighs. Your body is being pushed back and forth in the air while all you can do is weakly grab at the counter. Your eyes roll in the back of your head, getting thrown around like a rag doll while Mauga bottomed out in you was bliss. You couldn’t help but moan out his name like a mantra, losing your breath with every thrust. He grips your hips, fucking you faster as he feels his balls tighten. “Want me to cum in this pussy or on that pretty face?"

“D-d….dont know Ahhhhh~”

You can barely answer him when he’s plunging his cock into you nonstop. His cock slick with your juices, making nasty squelching noises. He fucked you deeper while he whispered the dirtiest thoughts in your ear. His cock is stretching you past your limits. You make a weak attempt to crawl away, pulling yourself onto the counter.

Mauga grabs your hips, slamming you back on his cock. “Don’t you fucking run from me; take this dick.”

Mauga groans and thrusts a few more times. One more powerful stroke is all it took. Mauga started filling your pussy with his hot seed. He thrusts deep, feeling his cock twitch as he unleashes his load inside you. You can feel his cum seeping into your walls, filling you up with his essence. He keeps fucking into you while you cum on his cock, covering him in your juices.

You sigh and start to relax on the counter, catching your breath.

"You're not done, sweetheart."

You start to protest when he picks you up and puts you on the floor. He grabs you by the back of your hair, pushing his cock to your lips.

“Open wide, baby."

You open your mouth, and Mauga shoves his fat cock down your throat. You gag, tears coming to your eyes as you steady yourself, putting your hands on his thighs. Mauga growls, pushing his hips forward, his cock forcing its way into your mouth. "Fuck yes." He groans, his hands gripping your hair tightly as he thrusts in and out of your mouth. His cock is hitting the back of your throat.

You swallow his dick down to the base and begin to play with his heavy balls. Your sloppy noises echo through the kitchen.

Mauga's hips jerk violently as he feels your warm, wet mouth on his cock, his hands gripping your head tighter. "Fuck yeah, suck it, baby." He groans, his hips pounding into your mouth as he fucks your face with long, hard strokes.

Mauga's moans turn into grunts as his hips start bucking wildly as he loses control. "Mmmmh shit! Almost there..." He grips your head tightly, his cock jerking erratically in your mouth as he approaches his climax.

Mauga's entire body tenses up as he feels his climax come again, his hot cum filling your mouth and his hips jerking violently. "Fuuuuuck!" he moans lewdly, his cock pulsing with each spurt of cum, filling your mouth to the brim.

He pulls out of your mouth, spraying the rest of his cum on your face, his cock still hard and throbbing, cum dripping from the tip onto your tits. "Swallow it all, sweetie." He commands, his voice rough with authority.

You swallow all of his cum, sticking your tongue out to show him you finished.

Mauga chuckles, thinking you look gorgeous with your face covered in his cum. “Frosted like your cookies."

Just then, your timer dings.

“Cookies done, babe, go on and take ‘em out. You can frost 'em after I’m finished fucking you again."