#he had to go next level irony

[breadfacednerd]

dw guys dave is fine, bro performed his own top surgery the same way. and dave is totally on anaesthetics, he took a hit from a blunt.

[bosbas]

Chapter 11: tell me I've got it wrong somehow

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: colin bridgerton x enemy!fem!reader WC: 4.3k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, small part of the dialogue in French, idiots in love!!, mentions of violence (nothing too graphic), mentions of blood

Summary: It took precisely two days in England for you to utterly despise Colin Bridgerton. It took him approximately twelve hours after that to hate you right back. But he doesn't care that you're the only person in the ton who doesn't like him. You're set to marry someone else anyway, right?

A/N: FINALLY. except not really. oops!

June 30, 1816 – If last night’s ball was any indication, it seems Lady Y/N has lost interest in finding a husband this season. More than a few whispers indicate that the Montclairs will journey to Spain to find better prospects for their youngest daughter. Let this be a call to action to the eligible bachelors of the ton so that they might consider being more… enticing suitors for our beloved Y/N. All this, of course, is to ensure that the Montclairs do not flee to the Spanish sun at the conclusion of the season. If nothing else, the Montclairs must stay so we can avoid losing Lady Y/N’s much-needed sense of style.

Colin stared in disbelief at Lady Whistledown’s column, letting it fall from his hands as he leaned back in his bed. If you were going to Spain at the end of the season anyway, why was he still here? He’d much rather be as far away as possible from anything that even remotely reminded him of you. 

Unfortunately, Daphne had given him some sort of misguided hope that staying in England would magically make you like him. Or perhaps make you hate him a little less. But it was becoming increasingly apparent that this was not the case. 

He wasn’t exactly sure what had changed from one day to the next, but you could barely look at him now. After your promenade, Colin thought you’d finally put your differences aside, and he could, at some level, be grateful to Lord Barlow for that, even if the man had acted completely indecently. 

But the truce didn’t last. 

Just three days ago, he’d run into you on the way to your father’s study to discuss pearl diving, and his heart had nearly skipped a beat when he saw you. You looked beautiful as ever, of course, and he was just staring at you dumbly, wanting to take in as much of you as possible.

You’d been humming as you walked down the hallway, smiling softly to yourself as you passed by a particularly large flower arrangement you had most likely received from a suitor. At that moment, Colin was sure that if you ever looked at him like that he would never recover.

Colin had tried to call out to you. Maybe if you were out of sight of the rest of the ton, you’d be more willing to speak with him. But the words had died in his throat as you had looked up and spotted him, just staring at you, across the room. 

Your eyes had widened, and your demeanor had instantly changed. A switch from serene to shaken so sudden that Colin had barely had time to react before you had clutched your skirts and ducked into the nearest room.

And though Colin had traveled halfway across the globe largely on his own, he had never felt so far from someone. 

Even now, in his room, away from Montclair House, he couldn’t help the deep shame that washed over him as he recalled how immediately you had rushed to get away from him. And Colin still had no idea why.

That was the worst part of it all. If he only knew what the problem was, he’d fix it. He’d do anything to be with you. Colin had had more than his fair share of escapades during his time abroad, but nothing even came close to the feeling he got when he was around you. The only person he’d known to dislike him. It was a cruel twist of fate, and he’d think it was funny if he didn’t physically ache with the need to be near you.

The irony of the situation was not lost on Colin. The more he was consumed by you, the more you pulled away. He’d been doing his best to avoid social functions for this very reason, but he feared he would not be able to do the same tonight. 

“Colin?” called Violet, peeking her head through his door. “Is everything alright? You look a bit…”

“I’m fine,” insisted Colin, wiping his slightly damp eyes and sniffing as he sat up.

“Anthony and Kate are hosting a ball tonight,” said Violet carefully. Colin’s recent absence from balls had not escaped her notice, but as much as she felt for her obviously lovesick son, he was not excused from familial duties. 

“Yes, I’m aware.”

“And you will be in attendance.”

Colin groaned. “Must I really be there? It’s one ball!”

“Actually, it’s been something like fifteen balls,” Violet shot back, unimpressed. “And I have graciously allowed you to be absent from them, but you will not miss your brother’s ball. You are still a Bridgerton. We do not miss family events.”

 Sensing he didn’t quite have a choice, Colin sighed, “Very well, then. Could I at least continue sulking before we go?”

Violet laughed softly and gave her son a sympathetic smile. “It’s not a bad thing, you know. Being in love. Even if it’s a complicated situation such as this one.”

“I’m not in love!” lied Colin. “It’s just… I don’t know. It’s not love.”

Violet raised her eyebrows pointedly but said nothing, closing the door quietly as she left her son’s room. 

Once he was alone again, Colin let out a frustrated groan and rubbed his temples. You would more than likely be in attendance tonight, and he needed to prevent what had happened in your hallway from happening again. He didn’t think he could bear having you practically sprinting away from him as soon as you saw him again.

Colin would simply have to stay out of sight of you. It was the only way he could stay at the ball. He didn’t ever want to look into your eyes and see the disdain and hurt that he saw three days ago. So, he decided he would be a wallflower tonight. Anything to keep you from seeing him. He would need to exercise a gargantuan amount of self-control to stay away from you when being near was the one thing he wanted, but the pained look in your eyes that haunted his sleep was enough to keep him in check.

---

Viscount Bridgerton’s ball was proving to be a supremely amusing affair. Your mother had decided that Louis should start looking for a wife, never mind that he was only two-and-twenty, and you were thoroughly enjoying watching how he was passed around from eligible lady to eligible lady. 

After nearly an hour of dancing and politely chatting, your brother finally stumbled over to where you were standing. Of course, you couldn’t help but snicker as he muttered something or other about needing a drink. 

“Tais-toi,” muttered Louis, crossing his arms over his chest as he crossed his breath (Shut up). “Maman veut aussi que tu danses avec quelqu'un” (Mother also wants you to dance with someone).

You turned to him, eyes wide. “Vraiment?” (Really?).

“Oui, c'est un autre duc,” Louis nodded and smiled evilly, gesturing toward where your mother was speaking to someone who looked to be at least Philippe’s age, if not older (Yes, it’s another duke). 

“Non, mais je peux pas,” you whined (No, but I can’t). You thought your mother had given up on finding you a husband for this season, but you supposed she couldn’t help herself if it was a duke. Even if he were a prince, you were not so sure that you would want to speak with him. 

Nigel Berbrooke and Lord Barlow, and you supposed Colin Bridgerton, too, had significantly dampened your excitement for the season. At this point, you were just looking forward to going to Paris for a few months once the season was officially over and trying to find a husband again in Spain next year.

But you didn’t even want to think about that. It felt like you were preparing for a prison sentence. One last year of traveling before you were limited to the confines of your future husband’s home with no escape other than your own mind. It was a chilling thought, and you were trying your hardest to avoid thinking about it. However, having your mother chatting you up to a duke was complicating that a bit.

Standing beside you, Louis was feeling quite annoyed after one grueling evening of speaking to unmarried ladies and their mamas. However, he knew that you had experienced about fifty times that many. So, taking pity on you, he leaned down and whispered, “Va dans le jardin, vite. Avant qu'elle ne revienne” (Go to the gardens, quick. Before she comes back).

Your eyes looked to the open doors leading to the gardens, and you decided the slightly nippy air was worth it if you could escape your mother and the unnamed duke. There were enough people outside that there was no risk of being caught in a compromising position, but it was far away enough from the ballroom that you knew your mother wouldn’t be able to find you immediately. 

Flashing your brother a grateful smile and squeezing his arm, you practically ran toward the exit, wanting to get away as soon as possible. Once you were outside, you maneuvered yourself so you were hidden behind a fairly large plant, but still had a view of the ballroom through the window. 

As Louis had predicted, your mother had come back to where you had been standing, duke in tow. She gave Louis a questioning look when she didn’t see you, and he simply shrugged, pointing to the other side of the ballroom. You sighed in relief, silently thanking your brother and promising to stop being quite so irritating toward him.

“Y/N?” you heard a voice say behind you. 

Your stomach dropped. You turned around slowly, growing nervous as Lord Barlow came into your line of vision. 

“Lord Barlow,” you said, feigning politeness in an attempt to avoid a scene. Your last interaction with him had not gone so smoothly, and you were afraid of what he would do now.

“So it is you,” said Arthur Barlow, his face contorting into an ugly sneer. He had never sounded so chilling when you were courting him, but you supposed at that time you hadn’t done yet anything to make him act so abrasive.

You cleared your throat nervously, looking around to see who else was nearby. But it seemed that everyone was too intrigued by this confrontation to put a stop to it. You internally cursed the duke for showing up at the exact moment that you wanted to be inconspicuous, but you smiled politely anyway. 

“I hope you’re doing well,” you said awkwardly, not quite sure what else to say. 

It seemed like the right thing at the moment, seeing as how no one, not even Lady Whistledown, knew what he’d been doing since he proposed to you. However, Barlow’s quickly narrowing eyes clued you in to the fact that it had actually been the exact wrong thing to say. 

“You hope I’ve been doing well? You hope? I’m sure you do, Lady Montclair,” he said sarcastically, fury evident in his voice. “I’m sure you’ll be happy to learn that the Barringtons are positively drowning in debt. Sorry, were drowning in debt, since I had to pay off all of their debts once I was forced to marry into the family. And now I’m in financial ruin, all thanks to you. You, Y/N, have brought on the downfall of the Duke of Monmouth.”

You would be lying if you said you weren’t the least bit pleased that things had turned out poorly for Arthur Barlow. But more than satisfaction, all you felt was indignation as you looked at the pathetic man in front of you. 

“I believe it was your decision alone to go outside the night of the Bridgerton ball, Lord Barlow,” you said, trying to sound as biting as possible. “It is a shame that your hubris has ruined your dukedom, but kindly leave me out of it.”

Barlow’s frown deepened and his eyes narrowed further, if that was even possible, as he practically shook out of barely contained anger. 

“You harlot!” he screamed at you, raising his hand and reaching out to you. 

“Barlow, you will cease at once!” came a commanding voice next to you. 

You turned to see Colin Bridgerton at your side, and you couldn’t help the flutter in your stomach that you felt every time you saw him. But now was not the time to get distracted by inconsequential feelings. 

“It’s alright, you don’t need to do this,” you urged Colin. “It’s not worth it. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

And surprisingly, you meant what you said. As much as you disliked Colin Bridgerton, you had no desire to see him hurt, even less so because of you. In some twisted way, you cared about this man. Far more than you cared about Lord Barlow, whom you had been ready to marry at one point in time. And more than anything it made you impossibly frustrated. 

Upon hearing Colin, Arthur scoffed and turned to face him. “I see you’re happy to be next in line for my cast-offs, Bridgerton. But let me tell you, she’s far too uptight, that one. Won’t even put out when you tell her to.”

Immediately, your spine stiffened, anticipation tingling through your nerves as you sensed the mounting tension in the air. Colin growled lowly, clenching his fists and stepping closer to Lord Barlow. Yet, just as it seemed he might strike, the duke swiftly sidestepped, causing the Bridgerton to stumble.

Your lips parted in a silent scream as you saw Lord Barlow aim his fist at Colin. You watched, as if in slow motion, how Arthur’s knuckles made contact with Colin’s nose, and you felt tears welling in your eyes as he fell to his knees, his head thrown back with the force of the duke’s punch.

“Colin!” you screamed, finally finding your voice. You could barely breathe, feeling like your heart was beating out of your chest. 

You rushed to his side, only vaguely registering that Lord Barlow was being roughly escorted out of the garden and likely out of the ball as well. Your eyes were glued to Colin, who was groaning in discomfort and bleeding profusely out of his nose. 

“Colin, are you alright?” you gasped, kneeling beside him, and clutching his arms as you choked back sobs, your heart still beating out of your chest. “You shouldn’t have done that,” you scolded, tears running down your face as you found yourself unable to be civil with him even when he was kneeling on the ground with a bloody– and most likely broken– nose. 

Colin, who was clutching his nose and groaning in pain, shot you an amused look. “Do I at least get some credit for trying to defend your honor?”

He sniffed, wiping away some of the blood with his hand, and reached for a handkerchief by his breast pocket. You were staring at him, horrified, as the blood kept streaming and he winced in pain. You had stopped sobbing now, but a steady stream of tears remained on your face as the panic mounted in you. 

“Colin, you shouldn’t have done that,” you whispered again, trying and failing to sound upset with him as you instinctively reached out to wipe some blood off his cheek. You hiccupped as you reached over, trembling slightly as you did, but his hand caught yours before it could touch his face.

He suddenly smiled wide, and you rather thought he looked a bit deranged. There was blood on his face and his hands and he looked more than a little banged up, but he was still smiling widely at you with a mischievous glint in his eye. 

“Can you say that again?” he asked, his eyes searching yours.

“Say what? That you shouldn’t have done that?” you sniffled, wanting to cross your arms over your chest in annoyance but not wanting to let go of his hand. 

“No, the part before that,” he said, smiling cheekily as he intertwined your fingers with his.

“How are you smiling after someone broke your nose?” you said, growing irritated with him but not quite letting go of his hand yet. “You could have gotten seriously hurt. That was a stupid thing to do, Colin-”

“Yes, that. Again,” he pleaded, the yearning evident on his softly smiling face as he grabbed his handkerchief with his free hand, holding it up to stop the flow of blood from his nose.

“Colin-”

“Yes, that’s it. Just say that again.”

You shot him a confused look. “Colin?” 

Is that what he wanted you to say? His name?

“Yes?” he pressed, smiling wide at you. “Can you say that again, please?”

“Again? Colin, why-”

“You hadn’t ever called me Colin before,” he said, looking at you wistfully. “I like how it sounds when you say it.”

“Oh,” you gasped softly. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Bridgerton, I forgot myself. It-”

“No, please,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I can’t bear to have you call me Mr. Bridgerton one more time.”

You averted your gaze and bit your lip, suddenly feeling very conflicted. This was Colin Bridgerton. This was the man who had jumped at the first opportunity to compromise you once he heard you didn’t put out for Lord Barlow. You could not be on a first-name basis with him. 

“Y/N,” he said softly, cautiously. 

And suddenly you felt butterflies erupt in your stomach. Maybe you could allow yourself to be on a first-name basis with him. Maybe it felt too good to hear him say your name. Maybe you weren’t strong enough to hold him at arm’s length, and a half arm’s length would have to do. 

“Colin.”

“I didn’t give him access to that terrace, you know,” Colin spoke, a hint of indignation lacing his words. 

You nodded, lifting your gaze to meet his. “I know. I was looking for anyone to blame when Lord Barlow was the only one who wronged me. Your mother told me he forced the door open.” 

“I could never have done that to you, it would’ve been unseemly” Colin insisted, gripping your hand tighter. 

But you froze. Couldn’t he have done that to you? Based on what you knew about him, he certainly could have. But it was so difficult to parse the man who had just now defended you against Lord Barlow, who was sitting on the ground next to you and holding your hand, with the man who had wanted to continue Nigel Berbrooke’s disgusting conversation at the Danbury ball. 

Feeling you stiffen, Colin’s heart clenched. This couldn’t be happening again. What had he done wrong this time? He was here, on the ground, literally bleeding for you, and you still had something against him. 

“Please talk to me,” Colin begged, suddenly feeling very desperate to fix whatever was happening between you once and for all. “If you want me never to speak to you again, I will do that, but I must know. I must know why you hate me.”

You shifted uncomfortably, retracting your hand from Colin’s and placing it on your lap as you looked anywhere except for him. 

“I don’t hate you-” you started weakly, but he was having none of it.

“Oh, spare me. I am not a fool. You hated me from the moment you saw me in Lady Danbury’s ballroom, even before our rivalry properly began.”

You bit your lip anxiously. If you were to tell Colin why you truly disliked him, and he was to take it in bad faith, you would be finished. Colin could tell everyone that you had been unchaperoned in the presence of two men of the ton, and given his place in society, no one would hesitate to believe him. 

But it was exhausting. Hating him was far more difficult than anything you’d ever done, and you weren’t particularly eager to keep doing it. Perhaps this was the only way to let go, and trusting Colin right now would make things infinitely easier. 

You finally met his gaze, feeling his blue eyes boring into yours. There was no anger in his expression, just a look of concern, with a hint of something else you couldn’t recognize. 

Resigned, you sighed. “I saw you with Nigel Berbrooke at the Danbury ball before you even asked me to dance,” you explained. 

A look of realization came over Colin’s face, and his lips, caked in dried blood, parted to make a perfect circle. 

“Oh heavens,” he said, sounding terribly embarrassed. “I apologize that you had to see that. Honestly, I would feel worse about what happened, but he really deserved it.”

“I beg your pardon?” you said, frowning. “He really deserved what?”

Colin’s eyebrows furrowed and he sent you a questioning look. “You saw me break his nose in the gardens, right? That’s what you’re talking about? I promise I’m not usually a violent man, though I’m not particularly proving my point tonight. I apologize if I scared you off; it was not my greatest moment, but I do stand by my actions.”

“You- You broke his nose?” you said, your confusion growing as you tried to piece together what Colin was telling you.

“Well, yes. That’s why he left town for a month. His face looked something awful, and he was too embarrassed to say why. Though that won’t be a problem for me, since everyone already saw my nose get broken anyway,” he shrugged, wincing as he lightly touched his nose. “That’s what you were referring to, no?”

“Oh, dear. Oh, no,” you said, mortified as the realization dawned on you. 

“What?” he pressed. “What is it?”

“I didn’t see any of that. I heard you talking with Mr. Berbrooke in the hall. He said that you could have any girl you wanted and that you just had to look for one with a big dowry and good hips. And then you asked to continue the conversation outside. And I thought- I just thought-”

Colin’s eyes widened. “And you thought I actually wanted to continue the conversation.”

You nodded, barely able to meet his eyes because you were so embarrassed. “But I suppose you just went out to the gardens to... Oh, no. And when he came back into town, he told me the only reason you were- the only reason anyone was pursuing me was because they wanted what I wouldn’t give Lord Barlow.”

“Y/N, I would never-” Colin started, fury in his voice, but he was too mortified to continue. 

All this time, you had every right to resent him, and yet he stooped to childish antics to spite you. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t actually said those things; they were completely vile, and Colin understood that Nigel implicating him in that kind of talk would have been a glaring warning for you. 

The incessant teasing, snide remarks, and rude comments were a grave misjudgment. How could he have treated you so poorly? How could he have treated anyone so poorly, for that matter? He had presented the most unbearable side of himself, sometimes descending into cruelty, all because he felt insecure. You had a valid reason for your hatred, and his behavior was nothing but a misguided attempt to mask his own insecurities.

What a complete mess. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, resigned. 

You shook your head quickly. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. I-I misunderstood and let that guide my actions. The fault is all mine.”

“Except it really isn’t, is it?” he said, reaching for your hand again, desperate to have contact with you again. 

But you drew your hand back, too embarrassed that you had rushed to assume the worst so quickly. How differently the season would have gone if you hadn’t spent half the time trying to get under Colin’s skin.

“Either way, I’m so sorry,” you said, mortified as you saw just how much blood was on his face. 

Colin had been willing to put himself in harm’s way to protect you and your honor. And you had spent months thinking he was one of the men who had no respect for you. You shook your head in disbelief, chiding yourself for your headstrong ways. 

“I’m sorry, too. You had a real reason to dislike me, and I was just being childish,” Colin said, his eyes dropping to your mouth as you anxiously bit your lip. 

If he wasn’t caked in dried blood, he might have tried to kiss you right now. He knew it would probably hurt like the devil, given that his nose was most likely broken, but he would have been willing to endure that just to feel your lips on his. But he couldn’t do it. Colin could still taste the bitter metallic taste in his mouth, and he knew he was in no state to be kissing anyone.

You nodded at Colin, fixing a stray strand of hair that had fallen out of place. “Can we be friends now, then?” you asked, half-smiling. “And not just as a favor to Eloise.”   

Instantly, Colin’s heart dropped. He scolded himself for thinking you could ever consider him as a suitor. It was a well-known fact that you were looking for a titled gentleman with a large fortune. And, as a third son, he had neither of those things. 

“Yes, friends,” he smiled wide, not wanting to fracture the fragile peace he had been waiting for since the moment he met you. 

Friends was alright. Colin could do friends. He’d take anything at this point. 

But as you turned away from him to see Anthony rushing over to scold his brother for starting a fight in his home and nearly giving Kate a heart attack, Colin felt his smile falter. 

Oh heavens, he really did love you.

—

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[solar-wing]

⚣ Love's Punishment 🏛️

⚣🏛️ A/N → If y'all knew how many times I deleted and restarted this entire thing... I don't even remember how I got this idea, I just remember wanting to write an obsession/love spell fic where some male superheroes go batshit crazy & horny over the reader. Either way, hope you all enjoy it. WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI | OMEGAVERSE | Canon-Typical Violence | Alpha Barry Allen/Flash | Alpha Hal Jordan/Green Lantern | Alpha Clark Kent/Superman | Demigod-Omega Male Reader | Obsessive Behavior/Actions | Attempted Non-Con | Dub-Con | Oral Play | Knotting | Bonding Marks | Sneaky & Meddlesome Gods & Goddesses |

Prompts Used: @rednsuch – #39 “Just the smell of you gets me excited, darling.” – #13 “Stop being such a brat.”

⚣🏛️ Summary → One may ask what it's like having a God or Goddess for a parent. Honestly, not fun, and Y/N is a perfect example of that considering how he's being punished by his mother. How do you even bring up this level of mommy issues in therapy?

⚣🏛️ Word Count → 6.2K

REBLOGS and replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 🏛️

Daddy issues this, and Daddy issues that.

What about the people who have mommy issues? Because they exist, and Y/N would be shocked if anyone else’s relationship challenges with their mother were similar to his own.

Truthfully, he would never understand or believe the idea that someone could have sex and procreate with a god or goddess and not have one clue. There was no divine light following behind them? No wisps of magic or sparkles. No flowers and bright auras left in their footpaths?

Nothing, not a single clue?

Bullshit.

You may ask yourself, “Y/N, whatever could be wrong with someone having adult fun and having children with a god or goddess?”

Lots of things, actually. There could be an encyclopedia on why that could be a bad idea with lots of consequences to follow. Too many to get into right at this moment considering he was busy trying to cover his head and face from getting blasted while hanging off a superhero’s shoulders like a sack of potatoes.

Getting punished by a god or goddess was not for the weak.

No kid liked getting in trouble and punished by their parents. It was a very unpleasant and frustrating feeling when you had to answer for something you either 100% did without thinking of the circumstances, or something that happened and you were the victim of said circumstances.

But imagine getting punished by your God or Goddess parent for something that you had no control over. Even more, something said parent was directly responsible for!

The hypocrisy of it all.

Y/N’s father was a handsome man. Their genes were always divinely blessed, the Alpha always liked to joke, and the young Omega didn’t realize the irony of that statement until he got older and started questioning things.

Whenever he thought about changing his appearance or switching something up, it happened immediately without any action or movement from him. At one point during some teenage life crisis, he wanted to go blonde but didn’t even need to purchase dye. One moment he’s looking at his natural hair color and looks down to grab his comb. Next thing he knows, he’s got a full head of blond hair in the exact style he imagined. And it looked goood.

There was another time when he wished in his head that the sweater he was eyeing while shopping was gray instead of red, but according to the store, they never produced that particular color. When he went to go look at other options, imagine his surprise when he turned back two minutes later and it seemed as if the store did indeed have gray. And from a closer look, they only had gray. Starting to see the point?

Y/N could read people like a book, especially pertaining to feelings of affection, desire, and jealousy. Imagine the ability to feel someone’s very adult-like feelings, and you hadn’t even hit puberty yet. His dad had to have the birds and the bees talk with him much earlier than planned.

One of the most concerning things was Y/N's naturally attractive aura and charming voice. Though, he couldn’t tell if it was his voice or just the words he spoke that were attractive. But, people seemed to flock to him like moths to a flame. Even at a young age, many fought for his attention, whether it was classmates, friends, family, or strangers he’d run into when out with his dad.

It was normal for an Omega to be highly desired and sought after by Alphas, but it wasn’t just them fighting for his attention. Y/N had Betas and Omegas alike competing with each other for the chance to get acquainted with him.

By the time he entered high school, on record, he had up to four secret admirers (and two stalkers), and when things only seemed to get more out of control, that’s when his dad finally decided to sit him down and explain the truth to him.

“So, yeah. Probably should have told you this when you were younger, but your mom’s Aphrodite.”

…

Not joking, he 100% said it just like that.

Of course, you can imagine the Omega’s confusion and somewhat anger that this information had been withheld for most of his life. Now, not only did Y/N have to deal with the everyday struggles of life and being an Omega, but he also had to balance being the demigod son to the Goddess of Beauty, Love, and Desire. When you think about it, it made the Omega thing 10x more stressful than it already was.

This was the type of shit people wrote and fantasized about.

Wait a sec…

…

Nah.

Now, back to the beginning, since we have some more context, what was this so-called punishment, and why did it have Y/N grumbling about mommy issues while being whisked around the nation’s capital as some superheroes had it out with each other over who got to claim his body affection?

Oh, nothing serious, really. Just mommy dearest trying to interfere with her son’s love life! Who knew the immortal parents were privy to the same, petty tactics as their mortal counterparts…

Unlike most others who would be excited at the thought of being the child of Aphrodite, Y/N felt he had an unfair advantage when it came to dating and relationships, given his semi-godly abilities and gifts. After his last relationship ended in a horror show with a sequel he promised would never see production, he swore off dating and romance for good.

Well, that didn’t fly too well with Aphrodite. Her children, full-blood and half-blood, were always known for their romantic escapades. One of them was the face of Valentine’s Day! Well, his cousin from Rome was, at least.

So, with the help of her son and Y/N’s half-brother, Eros, God of Love, Lust, and Sex, (the mentioned Greek cousin to Cupid) they set up a little divine punishment for the young Demigod to teach him a lesson for rejecting his goldy heritage. It also paid off as insurance, just in case.

Deities and their children were always known to be stubborn little beings.

Aphrodite sent Eros down to Earth to follow his half-blood sibling around, observing his actions and who he interacted with. And, for any male Alpha that the Omega came in contact with, the God of Lust was to ensure a connection was established between the two if he deemed them worthy enough.

Simply put, he was to shoot male Alpha he figured his mother would approve as a match for her son/his brother in the ass with a love arrow. Now, why she told him to shoot only male Alphas and not female, you’d have to ask her.

Mother knows best.

Unlucky for Y/N, they chose one of the worst days to do that when he happened to be in Washington, D.C. for a work-related trip.

Do you know what else is in Washington, D.C.? The Justice League headquarters.

But, why would that be a problem? Do you really need an explanation?

Imagine how interesting it would be if, at the same time Y/N happened to be in Washington, D.C., one of the famous Justice League heroes like Flash, Green Lantern, or Superman happened to be there as well. Picture how tempting of an opportunity it would be for Eros after he was told to find the best potential matches for his little brother.

Pretty damn tempting if you ask anyone else.

Now, if we’re being truthful, Superman was Eros’ ideal choice for his brother, knowing their mother would definitely approve of the relationship between her son and the Kryptonian. Even if he wasn’t an Alpha due to his alien biology, he still had all the ideal traits of one. Not to mention his strong features and handsome looks.

But, he wasn’t opposed to one of the other heroes like Flash or Green Lantern. And when the latter had been the one to save Y/N during some random battle that broke out between the League and some villains, he figured why not just shoot them all and see who came out on top?

Plus, he was the God of Sex just as much as he was of Love. He wanted to see who out of the three heroes had the sexual prowess to handle someone like his brother. Prude or not, being mated to a child of Aphrodite meant you had to be strong in a lot of ways, especially when it came down to the nitty and gritty.

And who said he couldn’t get a little entertainment out of this?

That entertainment is what led Y/N to his situation of being carried throughout the city like some prize while the world’s defenders fought with each other like kids trying to get the last cookie in the jar.

As said, it started with Green Lantern rescuing him and carrying him away to some random rooftop. Everything seemed normal until Y/N noticed a change in the hero and his sudden lustful gazes that were being directed at him. He'd been on the receiving end of a fair amount of adoration and attention by admiring and persistent Alphas, but this he could tell was something different.

And it was.

Eros had shot Green Lantern with the love arrow while they were still in the sky. Now, instead of thinking about the fight he was leaving his comrades to handle by themselves without his assistance, all his thoughts were centered around the Omega in his arms and how blessed he was to be in the presence of such a radiant being.

And how much he couldn't wait to claim his body all for himself. Besides, no one was more fitting or deserving of an Omega of Y/N's stature than the Green Lantern himself. At least, that's what his love-delusioned, and frankly, naturally egotistical mind believed.

Y/N didn't have time to even question what was going on before the green-clad hero had whisked him away to a rooftop, not too far from where the fight was happening. He figured it was over after that and the Alpha would return to his comrades after setting him down.

Imagine the Omega's shock when he found himself pressed against a wall, the hero kissing and nuzzling his neck while running his hands down his body.

"W-What are you doing?" Y/N stuttered out, trying to push the man away but to no avail.

"What does it look like? I'm saving you," The hero's voice was gruff and desperate, and the Omega was starting to get concerned.

"Okay, but this is less saving and more of molesting," Y/N struggled, having his arms pinned against the wall before feeling a hand running down his body towards his pants.

"I'm saving you from other Alphas trying to claim you. After this, you'll belong to me, and me only," Lantern growled gruffly in his ear, an aggressiveness that was all too familiar to the Omega. He'd seen this behavior before but didn't have much time to think about it as the hero started unbuttoning his pants.

"W-Wait! Stop!"

"No, I can't," Lantern shook his head, his eyes glazed over.

"You're under a spell or something!" Y/N tried again, but his words fell on deaf ears.

"I can't stop myself. I need you now," The hero growled, finally pulling the Omega's pants and underwear down before undoing his own and pulling out his throbbing, hard cock.

"No! Stop! You don't want to do this!"

"Stop being such a brat. I need to do this," Lantern's voice was firm and demanding.

Before the green-clad hero could achieve his objective, he was suddenly yanked off the Omega by a red and yellow blur, electricity crackling off it. The Omega after realizing he was free wasted no time in pulling his underwear and pants back up, watching as the blur, now recognized to be Flash, was currently fighting with Green Lantern near the edge of the rooftop.

"What are you doing, man?!" Flash yelled, trying to restrain the other hero.

"Let go of me, I need to save him!" Lantern growled, fighting the speedster's hold.

"From what?" Flash questioned, looking at the Omega confused.

"He's mine!"

"He's not yours!"

"Yes, he is!"

"GL, you need to get a grip."

"He's my Omega! I need to mark him!"

From his position, Y/N could see Flash was struggling to hold the other Alpha down and figured he should probably make his exit right about now. He made his way over to the fire escape, about to climb over until a figure floated up from below.

Superman, ever in his large and slightly intimidating form with his cape blowing in the wind looked down at the Omega with a smile, offering his hand, "Need some help?"

The Omega smiled with a soft blush, trying to quell his nerves at the Alpha's admittedly very handsome and chiseled face. Again, the Omega was no prude, nor was he oblivious to all the gossip and rumors of the world's protectors and their handsome and muscular figures. The latter was made even more prominent by the tight nature of their uniforms.

Y/N would be lying if he said he wasn't looking at Flash's prominent glutes hidden under the red spandex.

But, before the Omega took the Kryptonian's equally large hand, he noticed something in the background. The fight that initially led to this whole mess was still going on. Yet, three of the main superheroes involved in that fight were over here. Flash, he threw to the back of his mind since the speedster did technically save him. But, why was Superman here?

That's when Y/N noticed something in the Kryptonian hero's eyes. An expression almost identical to the one he just saw in Green Lantern.

Uh oh.

Before the Omega could even react, the Alpha had already scooped him up into his arms and flew off into the sky.

"H-Hey! Put me down!" Y/N stuttered, struggling in the Alpha's hold.

"I can't. I need to save you," Superman's voice was low and deep, and the Omega could feel the vibrations from his chest.

Hmm, where had he heard that before?

"Save me from what?"

"Other Alphas trying to claim you," The Kryptonian explained, and Y/N could have sworn he heard a growl in his voice.

A nervous feeling settled into his stomach, and if he wasn't careful, he'd find himself falling prey and submissive to the very situation he was trying to find a way out of. Being Aphrodite's son as mentioned before, he had an extraordinary gift with the power of emotions and desires. He could project his feelings of desire and love onto others, just as much as he could mirror them.

Another one of those aforementioned consequences of deities breeding with mortals.

The only thing Y/N struggled to figure out though was why all of this was happening. He'd never had a run-in with any of these heroes before, and the only time he'd seen behavior like this was when it was related to his...

...Of course.

His mother.

Now, everything was starting to make sense. This could only be the work of mommy dearest, and if Y/N had to guess, his half-brother Eros as well.

He'd have to deal with that problem later, though. Right now, he needed to focus on the task at hand, and that was escaping the arms of a very powerful, very strong, and very horny superhero.

"You're mine. I'll protect you from the others," Superman continued, and Y/N could feel a slight rumble in the Alpha's chest.

"I'm not yours," The Omega shook his head, continuing to struggle.

"Yes, you are. You're mine," The Kryptonian's grip tightened, and the Omega winced at the pain.

Y/N looked down and quickly rid himself of any thoughts that he could survive a fall from this height. Even if he was Aphrodite's son, he lacked something vitally important that his mother and brother both possessed. Immortality.

Hopefully, he could figure another way out of this.

He knew there was no reasoning with the Alpha. As long as he was under Eros' spell, no amount of logic or reasoning would get through to him. As cliché as it may sound, Y/N needed a divine intervention.

Thankfully, it seemed as if one was on the way.

Trails of green energy suddenly surrounded the pair, forming a giant floating cage. Superman turned to see his comrade, having escaped from Flash's grasp flying toward them.

"Get away from him!" Green Lantern yelled, flying towards the duo.

"No! He belongs to me. You have no right to him Lantern," Superman shouted back, clutching the Omega closer.

"You're not even a real Alpha, Clark! You're not even strong enough to make an Omega like him submit to you."

"What did you just say?!"

"You heard me, you fake-ass Alpha. I'm the only one worthy enough for him. Not some alien trash!"

"Why, you-"

Before the two could continue their argument, a vortex suddenly surrounded the two, causing Lantern to lose his focus. The energy cage surrounding the Kryptonian and Omega dissipated and the force from the vortex sent the two heroes to lose their flying. Superman tried his best to stay in the air, but the sudden force was too much and caused him to crash into a nearby building while Lantern crashed into a dumpster.

The Kryptonian managed to shield the Omega from the damage and brunt of their fall by wrapping him in his body. When Y/N realized they weren't falling anymore and had come to a complete stop, he peeked from the Alpha's hold, just in time to see the return of a certain Speedster who must have run up the side of the building to where they were now.

"Are you guys alright?" Flash asked, his eyes landing on the Omega in Superman's arms.

"I'm fine," Y/N nodded, and Flash sighed in relief.

"A vortex, Flash? Really?" Superman questioned with a raised eyebrow, still holding the Omega to his body.

"It was the quickest way to get you two out of the air without hurting anyone," Flash defended, crossing his arms.

"By throwing us into a building?"

"Better than the ground."

"You could have gotten him killed!"

"You were the one holding him!"

"Guys, I'm fine. I promise," Y/N interrupted, and the two Alphas turned to him.

"See, he's fine. Let's get back to the fight," Flash suggested, turning to leave.

"No, not until he's mine," Superman shook his head, and the Omega groaned. He stood up from the ground, letting the Omega stand on his own feet, but keeping an arm wrapped body to prevent him from running off.

"Not this again," Flash sighed, turning back, "You can't claim him."

"And why not?"

"Because he's mine," Lantern's voice suddenly joined the conversation, and the three turned to see the hero, seemingly recovered from his fall, walking towards them.

"No, he's mine!" Superman shouted, his eyes suddenly glowing red as he pointed them at the green-clad hero.

"Clark, no!" Flash shouted, holding his arms up in an attempt to stop the Kryptonian.

"No, he's mine. He's mine. He's mine!" The Kryptonian yelled, his eyes getting brighter.

"Clark, you're gonna kill him!"

"I don't care, Barry. No one is taking my Omega from me."

"He's not yours to claim," Lantern shouted back.

While this was all happening, everyone was oblivious to the new presence that had joined him. Only, none of the heroes could see him. Only Y/N could, and that was a very big problem.

"Eros..." Y/N muttered under his breath, narrowing his gaze at his half-brother who held a mischievous grin on his face while positioning himself slowly behind the speedster.

When Y/N realized what he was doing, he struggled in the Kryptonian's grip, "Eros, no!"

But, it was too late. The deity had taken his shot at the Flash, hitting him perfectly square in the back. The speedster flinched at the impact, turning to look around but finding nothing there, at least, nothing his sight could see. But, when he turned his gaze back around and they fell on the Omega still trapped in Superman's hands, an identical glaze to match the one in the other heroes fell over his eyes. One the half-blood was all too familiar with.

"Oh fuck..." Y/N muttered under his breath.

"Mine," Flash growled, his eyes trained on the Omega.

Before either of the two other heroes could react, Flash sped forward and landed a bunch of fast punches and blows on the Kryptonian, causing him to lose his grip on the Omega.

"Flash, what are you doing?" Lantern yelled at his comrade.

"Taking what's mine," The speedster responded, a charming but crazed look in his expression.

He grabbed Y/N and threw him over his shoulder, the Omega flailing in his grip while also trying to hold on tight as the speedster sped around the space, avoiding attacks from both Green Lantern and Superman at the same time.

"He's not yours, Barry!" Superman shouted, his heat vision shooting at the speedster who avoided it with ease.

"Yes, he is! He's mine!" The speedster yelled, clutching the Omega tighter.

"No, he's mine," Lantern yelled back, sending a giant fist toward the speedster who avoided it in a blur.

"No, he's mine!" Superman yelled, sending his heat vision at Lantern who in turn blocked it with a shield.

"No, he's mine!" The two shouted together, and the fight resumed.

Y/N, still trapped in the speedster's arms, watched helplessly as the Kryptonian and Lantern focused their attacks on each other, feeling a pat on his ass from the speedster who tightened the grip he had around his legs.

"Don't worry about them, beautiful. They're not worthy enough to have you. I am. You'll be mine, and I'll protect you from the others," Flash's voice was husky, and the Omega could feel his heart pounding against his chest.

"You're under a spell, Flash. You don't want to do this," Y/N tried to reason, but the speedster just laughed.

"Oh, but I do. I didn't know what actual life was until just a few minutes ago when I gazed upon you. and now that I have you, I can finally make you mine," Flash smirked, and the Omega gulped.

Flash sped out of the building with the Omega over his shoulder still, the two other Alphas only noticing their disappearance after they were already a mile down the street.

"Shit, where did he take him?" Lantern asked, looking around.

"I don't know," Superman answered, "But we'll find him. And when we do, you'll be the one who has to step aside."

"Like hell, I will!"

While those two continued to bicker, Flash ran himself and the Omega all the way back to Central City. Y/N was amazed at how he didn't pass out from the speed and movement, but he was grateful he didn't. Also, having superspeed may have made it a bit easier.

Just a guess.

When they finally came to a stop, the Omega was set down on his feet, and he looked around to see they were in some bedroom.

"Where are we?" Y/N asked, trying to keep his composure.

"My bedroom," Flash answered, his eyes still glazed over.

"Oh," Y/N nodded, a nervous feeling in his stomach.

"Don't worry, you're safe here," The speedster walked towards him, and the Omega backed away, "I'm not gonna hurt you."

"You say that, but your eyes say otherwise," Y/N responded, continuing to back away until he hit the wall.

"I know. But, I can't help it. I need to have you," Flash smirked, and the Omega felt his arousal getting excited in his pants.

"I'm not yours to have," Y/N shook his head, his heart pounding.

"Yes, you are," Flash's voice was firm, and the Omega felt his resolve fading.

"I-I'm not," Y/N stuttered, his knees getting weak.

"Yes, you are," The speedster was in front of him, and Y/N could feel his breath on his skin.

"I'm not," Y/N shook his head, but his voice was barely a whisper.

"You are," Flash whispered, his face close to the Omega's.

The very thing Y/N was concerned about happening when he was trapped with Superman earlier began to manifest, much to his fear. His divine abilities were reacting to his body's 'chemistry spikes' and now, he was beginning to mirror the Alpha's current feelings toward him, including the obsessive ones, which were now clouding his judgment.

"I'm not," Y/N shook his head, his breathing getting labored.

"You are," Flash whispered, his lips getting closer to the Omega's.

"I'm not," Y/N stuttered, his body giving in.

"You are," Flash whispered, pressing his lips to the Omega's.

"I'm not," Y/N muttered against his lips.

"You are," Flash said firmly, pulling the Omega's body closer to him.

In a move Y/N thought was him going to push against the Alpha in an attempt to resist his seductions, he actually was running his hands up and down the spandex-covered muscles. His legs were spread open by the speedster as he hoisted him up, wrapping them around his waist while pressing him to the wall, kissing him even harder while undressing his clothes.

"You're mine, Y/N," The speedster whispered, his lips trailing down the Omega's neck, "All mine."

"I'm yours, Barry," Y/N panted, his body flushed. Y/N remembered hearing Superman call the speedster by that, figuring it must have been either his civilian name or a codename they had. Either way, he could see from the delighted expression across the Flash's face and his blue eyes through the slits of his mask that he was very pleased by it.

"Say it again."

"I'm yours, Barry. I'm yours."

"That's right, beautiful. You're mine, and I'm yours. You'll never have to worry about other Alphas again, because I'll protect you from them."

The sun's light cascaded through the open windows in the bedroom as the two continued frotting against each other against the wall. Barry trailed his kisses from Y/N's lips down to his neck and eventually to his naked chest, before sucking on his wet nipples while the Omega through his head back in pleasure, the Alpha looking up at him with his blue eyes before taking his lips away from the leaking nubs.

"Do you like that, darling?" Barry asked, and the Omega nodded, his eyes glazed over, "Are you ready for more?"

"Y-Yes, Alpha," Y/N nodded, his breath labored.

"Good boy," Barry whispered, his voice husky and deep. He kissed the Omega one last time on the lips before pulling him away from the wall, carrying him bridal style to the bed.

Barry laid the Omega down, the latter spreading his legs open in submission and invitation, and the former smirked, climbing on top of the bed. Barry pressed kisses to the side of the Omega's neck again, right over his scent gland before taking a big sniff.

"Just the smell of you gets me excited, darling."

Barry's hands roamed the Omega's upper naked body, feeling the smooth and soft skin while trailing his fingers down his sides and to his hips. Y/N gasped, his hands gripping the sheets as the speedster's fingers teased the inside of his thighs.

"I love the way your skin feels, and the way your body reacts to me," Barry whispered, his nose pressing into the Omega's scent gland.

"Barry," Y/N moaned, his body arching off the bed.

"Say it again," Barry growled, his hands squeezing the Omega's hips.

"Barry," Y/N moaned, his eyes closed.

"That's right, baby. I'm Barry, and you're mine," Barry whispered, his fingers moving up the Omega's inner thighs.

"I'm yours," Y/N nodded, his legs spreading open even wider.

However, before Barry could move to remove the Y/N’s pants, the Omega whined at him, tugging on the spandex of his suit and mask with his hands causing a cheesing smile to appear across the Alpha's face.

"Aw, you want to see me out of my suit, don't you, darling?" Barry asked, and the Omega nodded frantically.

"Yes, Alpha. Please."

"Good boy," Barry praised, and the Omega whimpered.

He quickly removed his gloves and masks, tossing them aside before unzipping the top of his suit and pulling it off, revealing his sculpted and muscled chest. Y/N's eyes widened in delight and appreciation at the sight, reaching his hands out to touch the smooth and pale skin.

The Omega moaned happily at the sight, running his hands down the hard pecs and abs while leaning up to press his own kisses against the skin. Barry shuddered above him from the move while resuming his earlier actions of removing the offending pants and underwear that were hiding his prize from his sight.

Tossing the pants aside, he leaned up and took in the sight of the fully naked Omega, writhing on his sheets and whining for him, feeling his own throbbing hard erection under his suit pants.

"Look at you, darling. So beautiful, and all mine," Barry ran his hands down the Omega's sides, creating a tickling feeling that had the smaller male giggling, "I can't wait to claim your body, all for me," he growled, voice husky with want.

Barry kissed his way down the Omega's chest, taking a moment to bite and lick at the leaking nubs again before gripping his thighs and spreading them open. He positioned his head between the open legs while staring at the tight, slick-producing hole in front of him. He lapped his tongue to gather of taste of it on his tongue, Y/N flinching violently at the sensation while calling out the Alpha's name.

"Delicious," Barry muttered, before diving in on the wet treat in front of him.

"Oh fuck," Y/N moaned, his hands gripping the bed sheets tightly.

Barry's tongue lapped at the dripping slick, his hands gripping the Omega's thighs tight and pushing them open even further to gain better access. Y/N moaned, his back arching off the bed while the Alpha's tongue entered his hole, tasting him from the inside.

"Barry, please. Please, I need it. Please," Y/N begged, his body shaking with arousal and want.

Barry didn't listen to him though, he kept feasting on the Omega's arousal while using his speed to vibrate his tongue inside him, causing the Omega to moan even louder, his body shaking with pleasure.

"Barry, please! a-ah, fuck ... !" Y/N cried, his body shaking even more.

"What do you need, baby? Tell me," Barry asked, pulling his tongue out and looking at the Omega with a smirk.

"I-I need you... Please, please," Y/N begged, and the Alpha smiled.

"You want me, baby?"

"Yes, Alpha. Please, I need you. Please."

"Well, since you asked so nicely."

The Alpha discarded the rest of his suit and underwear, his throbbing erection springing free, causing the Omega to lick his lips at the sight. Barry chuckled at his reaction while pulling him down the bed and picking him up in his arms, wrapping the smaller male's legs around him and pressing him against the wall.

Barry played with his cock against the Y/N's wet heat, enjoying the pleasurable reactions that ran across the Omega's face. "Who's your Alpha?" He asked with another playful smack of his mushroom head against the hot and throbbing entrance.

"Y-You, Alpha," Y/N panted, his face red and eyes glazed over.

"That's right, baby. I'm your Alpha," Barry whispered before he slowly slid inside the Omega.

"Fuck!" Y/N yelled, his head leaning back against the wall.

"So tight and warm. It's like you were made just for me, baby," Barry moaned, his cock pushing all the way in until his balls were pressed against the Omega's ass.

Y/N dug his nails into the skin of Barry's shoulders while the Alpha pressed him harder against the wall, his hips rapidly moving back and forth as he fucked him hard. The speedster's hips and legs were already dripping with more and more of the Omega's arousal as it dripped into his carpet, creating more of a mess the harder he thrust in and out of the hole.

"h-harder ... p-please, harder ..." Y/N moaned, his eyes closed while Barry sucked on his neck.

"So beautiful," Barry growled, his hands gripping the Omega's ass cheeks while thrusting harder, "Such a good little Omega, taking my cock so well."

"Barry! Barry!" Y/N moaned, his legs wrapped tighter around the Alpha's waist.

"Say it again," Barry growled, his hips moving faster.

"Barry!" Y/N moaned, his back arching.

Suddenly, Barry got the bright idea to add his speed to it, making his hips move at a pace that would be deemed impossible for any regular human. Good thing he wasn't a regular human. However, the increase in speed had Y/N shouting at the top of his lungs, tears springing to his eyes as he pounded his fists against the Alpha's hard, mildly sweaty chest.

Meanwhile, Y/N was a soaking mess. The shine from the sweat all around his body was highlighted by the sun's fading rays and the increasingly bright glow from the streetlights outside the window. Combined with the sticky fluid still leaking from his chest and the slick that was all but splashing between the Alpha and Omega.

"That's it, baby. Take my cock. Take it all," Barry growled, his hips moving faster.

"Barry, I-I'm gonna... I'm gonna cum," Y/N cried, his legs shaking.

"Do it. Cum for me, baby," Barry commanded, and the Omega followed.

"Fuck!" Y/N screamed, his back arching and his eyes rolling back into his head as he came between the two, digging nails into Barry's sweaty back as his release overwhelmed him.

"That's a good Omega," Barry said, before slipping out of the smaller male, carrying him over to the bed and propping him up on all fours.

He gripped the Omega's hips, sliding back inside him and fucking him at a rapid pace, his hips slapping against the plump ass cheeks. Y/N's eyes rolled back into his head as he cried out, his body shaking with pleasure while the Alpha fucked him.

"That's it, baby. Take it," Barry growled, his grip tightening on the Omega's hips.

"p-please, I can't... FUCK! I can't take anymore... !" Y/N cried, his body shaking as the Alpha started using his powers again to increase his speed.

"You can, and you will," Barry growled, his hips moving even faster.

"Barry, please! Fuck, I'm gonna... !"

"Do it. Cum for me, baby. Cum for your Alpha," Barry growled.

"mm ... mmh ... ! O-OHH, FUCK ... !" Y/N shouted, his back arching and his eyes rolling back into his head as he came, his legs and body shaking from the overstimulation as the Alpha started to chase his own finish.

Barry's knot started to form at the base and slowly was inching closer and closer as the Alpha fucked the Omega who was beginning to softly cry from the amount of pleasure and pain he was experiencing. His hands weakly tried to push against the speedster's hips in an attempt to slow him down but were snatched together in a grip while feeling a painful smack against his ass.

"Don't try and fight it, baby. Just let me claim you. Just let me have you," Barry growled, throwing his head back in pleasure.

"Barry, I-I can't ... !" Y/N cried, his body shaking.

"Yes, you can. Just a little longer," Barry's hips started to stutter, and the Omega cried out, his legs shaking as he felt the Alpha's knot starting to press against his hole.

"Barry, please! PLEASE ... !" Y/N sobbed, his body convulsing on the inside from the overwhelming sensation.

"Just a little longer, baby. Just a little longer."

"I-I can't... Please, I can't ... !"

"Almost there, baby. Who's your Alpha?"

"Y-You... You are ... !"

"That's right, baby. I'm your Alpha. And, now I'm gonna make you mine. Forever."

With that, Barry pressed all the way inside, releasing his knot into the Omega with a loud groan as he leaned forward, catching himself on the bed as Y/N had his third orgasm against the sheets, suddenly feeling heavy and drained from the strenuous workout he just went through.

While the pair were both recovering, neither of them realized the small, matching marks that slowly appeared over their scent glands. They were now a fully mated pair, and the God of Love and Sex knew this as he peered in through the window, watching the sweaty individuals with satisfaction.

"Welp, my job's done. I'm sure Mother will be pleased with this outcome. Serves you right, brother. You should know better than to try and deny your heritage. Hope you learn well from this punishment."

With that, the deity disappeared, making his way home.

Meanwhile...

"That should be the last of them," Lantern said, flying through the air after he captured the last of the attacking minions.

"Good," Superman nodded, his eyes still glowing white as he scanned the area.

"What are you doing?" Lantern asked, looking at the Kryptonian confused.

"Looking for him."

"Who?"

"The Omega."

"Oh yeah, do you think Barry already claimed him?"

"Probably, but it doesn't matter. Cause he belongs to me, and I'm going to take him back, by whatever means necessary."

☀️ | Barry Allen/Flash | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Danny was having a blast!

Leaving Amity was one of the best choices hes ever made! He spent the last year fighting off what he's come to know as Justice League level threats only for some guy to literally spit in his face as he carried him out of a burning building.

In. his. face.

Danny dropped the guy and ignored his enraged shouts as he continued rescuing the people and animals from the other apartments. Was it wrong to leave that guy there? Probably. Did Danny care? Not anymore. Jazz had graduated early and gone off to an Ivy League collage while Tucker had gotten a scholarship to some fancy private high school and his parents shipped him off somewhat against his will. Tuck, being Sam's counterbalance was sorely missed and Danny was getting more and more fed up with her pushy attitude.

Eventually she said something that set him off and he stormed out of her home. As he walked he realized something. He had Go bags stored all over the city, many of which no one but him knew about and no one would be any wiser if they were to go missing. He had full unrestricted access to all of his parents lab equipment, including the Specter Speeder and had full scale survival training in most terrains thats to Fenton Family Traditions.

He could just...leave. leave and never look back. Heck, he could enter into a new reality all together thanks to his Halfa status and no one would be able to follow him thanks to him being the only one of his kind.

So thats what he did. He didn't exactly thinks this through but he knew if he put it off he would screw it up by overthinking it and getting caught by Sam and guilt tripped into staying.

Next think he knew he was coughing on smog. Yep. This is a big city all right, one Sam would either love thanks to the gothic architecture or hate for the pollution and obvious corruption. Tucker would definitely love it here. The tech in the shop windows looked way more advanced than anything that didn't come from his parents lab.

Speaking of which he needed to find a place to hide the Specter Speeder (he needed a new name for that) he could keep flying it through the city invisibly. He was going to get tired soon.

On the plus side it was easy to phase the speeder and all his stuff into an underground cave that didn't have an entrance yet. It did have an underground waterfall however and Danny was loving it.

It wasn't long before Danny had built an antire jet out of scrap metal he'd stolen from the junk yards and his parents stolen tools. Flying through the city's sky was so much fun. When was the last time he flew a jet even inside an emulator?

Too long.

He heard his radio beep signaling that someone was trying to contact him but he ignored it. Danny took pride in his work and knew he wouldn't be shot down easily, new tech or not. If worst came to worst he could use his ghost powers to bail.

Several more failed attempts to contact him later a larger black jet appeared behind him. Danny grinned, "Let the chase begin."

As it turned out this city was filled with a team of vigilante heros with a bat and bird theme and oh boy, they were good. There were a few times when his jets had been shot down and Danny would have to actually bail. Danny was so impressed that he decided to leave them gifts whenever that happened. That's right.

Danny dropped loot.

The bats still had no idea what he looked like or what he wanted, even going so far as to call him "The Phantom Flyer" which Danny cackled at the irony.

[sonolynn]

Midnight Sky.

summary | Stargazing is what made Sebastian confess to you.

pairing | Sebastian Sallow x !Fem!Reader

tags | Kissing, description of mutual pining, overall just tooth rotting fluff, some swearing, not proof read

w.c | 1.4k

note(s) | I like to imagine Sebastian as a lovesick, teenage boy. So a lovesick teenage boy he shall be.

______________________________________________________________

You stared at him as he slept. He looked so peaceful, his hair lightly hanging in his eyes, his freckled cheek squished against his arm, the way his breathing was light and calm. You reached forward, gently pushing his bangs away from his eyes, all to get a better look at the beautifully sculpted boy in front of you. 

You two were supposed to be studying. But, Sebastian in his infinite wisdom stayed up basically all night finishing an assignment he had two weeks to properly prepare for. So now, in the dim candle light of the castle’s library you sat alone, with your thoughts and the cute sleeping boy next you. 

He’s so pretty, you thought to yourself, mimicking his position. You laid with your head on your arm, a hand coming to gently stroke his cheek as he huffed softly and yawned. In his sleep, he nuzzled closer to your hand, his subconscious deliberately searching for the warmth of your affection. 

A smile graced your lips as you watched him carefully. Taking in the way his lips pursed into a pout, how his eyes opened slowly-

Wait, he’s waking up. 

Sebastian opened his eyes, sleepily staring at you as he blinked a few times to ground himself. You pushed your lips together, cheeks becoming aflame at such an open level of physical affection to your friend. Sebastian smiled, his charming-sleepy half smile-as he yawned. 

“How long have I been asleep?” His voice, laced with a laziness that somehow always made your cheeks burn even more than they already were.

“Perhaps about..forty minutes?” Sebastian groaned in response, leaning back against his chair as he stretched. You, in a desperate way to ignore his shirt riding up, started to slowly pack your things. 

Sebastian settled back into the chair, his hands going to the back of his head as he smiled to himself. He stared at you, his heart banging against its cage. The way you looked, your face illuminated by the candle light and your hair all messy made his stomach flip. He hadn’t realized you had looked back at him until you spoke. 

“Bash?” Oh merlin's beard  that nickname. Normally, he would severely glare at anyone who called him that, but you? The way it fell so naturally off your lips made his eyes soften. 

When you spoke to him, he subconsciously put a hand to his chest-the feeling of his heart rapidly thumping against his rib cage was almost painful. 

“Huh?” 

“I asked if you wanted to skip dinner and hang out in the courtyard?” 

“Oh..yeah, sure.” As if in a daze, he stood, smiling down at you as he started to gather his own things. 

______________________________________________________________

The sky was boring, he didn’t understand why you loved staring at it so much. 

I’m much easier to look at. He thought to himself. He watched you, his breath in his throat as you smiled and stared up at the stars. He always wondered if you would look at him like that-with so much raw and pure admiration that it was almost sickening. 

“Oh! Bash look! That one is the Gemini constellation!” You exclaimed, innocently pointing up to the sky and staring at the stars, (they all looked the same to Sebastian). “Isn’t it beautiful?” 

You always did this thing-Sebastian noticed-were you would play with your hands as you aimlessly stared at the sky. Oh how he so desperately wished to reach over and take your hand in his. How he wanted to push your hands apart just to wedge his larger one in between them and hold your hands. He wished that you would look at him the same way you did the stars. 

But the irony was that you did. When he looked up to where you were pointing, your eyes would subconsciously drift over to his lanky frame next to yours and you’d stare. You would stare at him like he was the one who put the stars in the sky. You would stare at him like how a child would stare at candy. 

“I think you're gorgeous.” 

He did not just fucking say that. 

Your head immediately snapped to the side, your eyes locking with his. You were afraid that even in the moonlight that he could see the way your cheeks blazed with embarrassment. 

“Excuse me-”

“I said I think you’re fucking gorgeous…” He whispered the words, and he watched the way your face softened and how your hands slowly stopped entangling themselves. 

“I was speaking of the stars.” 

He nods, gulping in embarrassment as he starts to stammer. “Well, I uhm, yes I know that I just, I uhm…” He took in a soft breath before he looked back up at you, a familiar softness in his eyes. “I do think you’re gorgeous.” 

No matter how many times he said it, you would not believe he had truly said it. You stared at him in shock, your brain not fully wrapping around how Sebastian had just called you gorgeous. 

“Bash I-”

“No please,” He pleaded, taking in a deep breath, “I can’t not say anything…” He took your hand gently, his palms sweaty and shaky as he breathed out your name before he continued, “I feel something for you.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed. You knew what he meant-or, perhaps you thought you did. The words “I feel something for you” could be anything from anger to love to resentment. Your brain gave you a million explanations except for the true meaning, that he saw you the way that you saw him.

“You…feel what exactly?”

“So many things.”

“Sebastian that-”

“Let me kiss you.” Your breath stopped at these words, and you finally were rendered speechless. You stared at him as he leaned closer, his nose brushing against yours. You awaited the fateful moment when his lips would press against yours, but it never came. You looked up into his eyes, and found him staring right back at you. 

“Please?” He whimpered, pathetically as his large hand came and threaded his fingers in between the cracks of yours. You could barely think let alone speak, fearing the betrayal your voice would give into if you did speak. You nodded softly, your eyes closing as he finally leaned forward and kissed you. The kiss was sweet, innocent even. He was like a frightened school boy, not knowing what to do with his hands as he tilted his head slightly. His hand pulled away from yours, running its course up your arm and into your hair as he held your head and deepened the kiss. 

The kiss that started off soft and innocent soon turned passionately hungry as you grabbed the back of his head and pulled him impossibly closer. Sebastians head was spinning, and he groaned-a deep, guttural sound-into your mouth. His thumb stroked your cheek bone softly as he pushed you down onto the grass below the two of you. His hands came to rest on your hips, his head tilting more as your fingers threaded through his brown curls, tugging lightly. 

It was nothing short of electric, making out in the middle of the moon-lit courtyard with the boy you’ve been admiring for months was something that you did not expect to happen, at least not tonight. But, as his mouth pulled away from yours, and slowly left heated, open mouth kisses from your jaw to your neck, the reality of the situation truly started to set in. 

That and the yells from behind you, coming from a hufflepuff prefect. 

You and Sebastian jumped up, disheveled and red cheeked as the prefect started to make their way towards you. Sebastian immediately jumped up, taking your hand and sprinting into the castle-trying desperately to get back inside, and away from the prefect. 

The two of you ran, breathing heavy and hearts thumping with adrenaline, until Sebastian pulled you close and into an empty corridor. The prefect ran by, and as soon as Sebastain knew that it was safe, he turned to you. 

The two of you stared at each other for a while, chests heaving and panting. You broke first, laughing hysterically at the situation. The laughing was broken as Sebastain leaned forward and placed his forehead against yours, a smirk on his kiss swollen lips.

“So..butterbeer tomorrow?” He spoke carefully, holding your face like he would his uncle’s finest china. You laughed softly, but you closed your eyes and nodded softly. 

“Yeah, butterbeer tomorrow.”

______________________________________________________________

[fauustic]

the fear of losing this

too many people in my inbox got a little too comfortable asking me for “a fight between reader” as well as “miguel angst please” so i am combining both as i struggle to get through this writer’s block ))

gender-nonconforming reader x miguel “spider-man 2099″ o’hara

angst. little comfort. your universe is falling apart, yet miguel doesn’t want to let you go.

warnings: pure angst. light cursing? i’m not too sure, just lots of tears.

word count: 2211

The night sky of Nueva York shined brightly with the bustle of commute, highly advanced cars whirring softly through the clouds. Your mask hung from your hands at your side, bunched up in the anger that fizzed and popped in your bloodstream– threatening to explode at any given moment as Miguel brushed off your conversation with a stoic chill.

“You don’t understand how important this is to me Miguel–” your voice raised as you paced the highest level of the building, padding against the overly complex structures that mimicked webs. You would have laughed at the irony of having a headquarters so invested in the theme of spiders that even the ground you walk on replicated the symmetry of webs if the both of you were in any other given situation– but that joking persona that came with the gig flew and crashed out the window the moment Miguel brushed off and rejected your plans to return back home. “I need to be there, helping my people. What is the point of me taking up a spot in this ‘fateful–’” You dragged out the words, venom dripping from your tongue as you partially made fun of the organization he spent so much time on. “Spider Society if my own boss doesn’t let me return back to the place I belong in?”

“No, no.” His tone was blunt as he stood as rigid as ever; surveying your every move in a way that you could never guess what he was thinking, with or without the mask. “You don’t understand.” Miguel repeated your own words back to you in a taunt as one of his clawed hands fidgeted with the device that decided whether or not you could walk around or stay in a little bubble for the next week just like all the other prisoners were down below. “You created a problem in your own universe, that’s the problem we’re having here. You cannot fix it.” He practically spat his words, anger emitting from every rhythmic clang whenever he tossed the technology into the air and caught it with calculation. “It doesn’t matter whether or not you’re from that Earth, you put that place you so valiantly ‘protect’ into a state of emergency. Is that not clear enough?”

“Oh, sure– but the hundreds of other spider-people that can’t go one word without making a joke of the situation can fix my mess? Am I just some inexperienced rookie to you, Miguel?” You countered, ripping your gaze from his own. His features were exposed to you as his mask was off as well, the sunken circles beneath his eyes growing prominent when a vibrant car passed by and shone a striking yellow light into the corridor the two of you stood within. His usual expression made of stone chipped away with the stress he was under as a deeper frown made its way onto his lips.

Miguel sighed dramatically before pinching the bridge of his nose, turning away from you to mumble a jumble of incoherency. “God,” He repeats your name like it's a curse, “That’s not what I’m saying at all. It’s just not safe.”

You scoffed, eyes growing wide at the audacity of this man you have to call your boss. “Of course it’s not safe Miguel, that’s our job.” You couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief, pulling at the roots of your hair in any attempt to calm yourself down. “I risked my life every single day in my universe before I even knew of your existence, yet now suddenly I can’t?”

“This is different. For some reason these– these anomalies are running rampant in your world and it’s taking everything to finally have the problem at hand contained.” Miguel held his breath as if he had something more to say, but left it unsaid the moment you stomped closer towards him in a new fit of anger.

You shoved your palm against his chest, baring your teeth as a groan erupted from the back of your throat in a concoction of frustration and despair. “Exactly! That’s exactly the problem, Miguel. My people out there are suffering and fighting for their lives, surrounded by these people that are like me but aren’t me.” Tears began to well up in the corners of your pained gaze, humiliation washing over your consciousness as you sniffled and stifled a sob. Fauxe confidence and quips were something you specialized in, annoying Miguel in a little dynamic the two of you found yourself in as months turned into an entire year of being called in for missions. Emotions were never a thing the both of you have ever discussed with one another because it wasn’t your position to pry and he was never the one to initiate such conversation.

“If you just let me go, I’m more than willing to show you how capable I am.” It came out as a whisper as you turned away from him and began padding down the structural webs. Miguel was on high alert, you could notice as every glance felt as if he was trying to convince himself that no other member of his society occupied this part of Headquarters. He followed you close behind, claws digging into the beams of construction to reach the same floor as you without a word. The brooding silence that usually met your company could be sensed from any person in their right mind, and as you spotted the hesitation in each thud of his footfalls– confusion clouded your anger. So in a flurry of adrenaline, you webbed his next step to the ground with a ball of the substance you artificially produced in the depths of your makeshift and cozy lab, hidden away at your home in the world you desperately needed to save. It would give you time to finally just talk to him.

“¿Eres estúpido o qué? Do that again and I’m putting you in the–”

It wasn’t to hold him down, you know you couldn’t match his strength. It was to make a statement. 

You interrupted him, a newfound determination holding onto the little hope you had. “You follow me for one more second, I’m going through that portal and never looking back.” Brutally honest and uncharacteristically serious, the attempt at ripping his limb free was cut cold at the promise looming in the air. His frown fell for just a moment’s notice, mouth agape in shocked horror before quickly recovering himself. Repeating yourself more clearly as his attention was occupied, your body shined away while shaky fingers struggled to input the coordinates of your universe. But eventually it clicked, the AI voice of Miguel’s beloved Lyla sounded throughout the tension in a glitchy mess– notifying Miguel of the portal to-be seconds before it truly distorted the fabrication of reality in front of you.

Miguel dropped to his knees, struggling to claw off the web that had his foot planted to the structure. His breath quickened concerningly, shoulders heaving as the plan of his crumbled in front of him in an instant; all because he was not observant enough. You played him like an instrument like you always had, a pained groan from the back of his throat sounded and echoed throughout the space of the vast headquarters. “No, no, no..” He repeated, mirroring the despair you had on your features moments ago at the idea of not being able to save your people. You could never once recollect a fraction of a second where he allowed himself to convey the pain plaguing his mind, and as he reached out to you in a frantic heap of limbs– the walls of protection he hazardously built around himself came crumbling down by each shape contorting and twisting into a gateway to your world. “I can’t, I can’t lose anybody else–”

You stood there, heart breaking as the man who has had villains three times your size on their knees, collapse into fragments of himself at the mere idea of you leaving the security of his universe. Bursts of color painted the dark hues blotching upon white, igniting his fresh-tear stained cheeks in splashes of reds and yellows and greens. The portal was completely open, awaiting your entrance to return back to your familiarity– yet your senses buzzed alarmingly at each step away from Miguel. It’s almost as if you could feel the hole in his chest, searing away his soul he finally allowed himself to offer like a god’s offering.

You fell to your knees to hold his face in your suited hands, the waves of sorrow and grief infesting your mind like a sickness almost had you doubling over in pain. You could hear the cries of hundreds around his, no– your own heavy breathing, a confused and fearful little girl’s pleas for help overlapping the muddled screams. You felt the weight of a child in your hands before it was ripped away like a paper airplane in the wind, and soon your trembling hands met the purchase of his nape. Your body moved automatically, holding his face in the comfort of your lap while you shielded his gaze from the portal. Despite his power, the capability to snap you in two, you held him like a fragile doll that would break within any mishap.

“All this time, you never told me.” You sobbed into his hair, dampening his combed back curls with your tears and he only held your waist like you were the anchor in this unforgiving ocean of anguish. You have become one, the memories of his own mixing into the blur of yours's.

“I didn’t know how to.” He murmured into the purchase of your thigh, wetness seeping into your suit. But you didn’t care as your hands wandered all over his figure: a soft massage to the shoulders before quickly scooping his neck into your arms before finally settling on petting his hair back. “I, I haven’t allowed you to go to your world because a part of my thoughts can imagine your arms fading into a technicolor mess, falling into the clutches of another failed universe.” He forced himself to take a deep breath, gulping up air as the portal behind the both of you fizzled and popped.

“I can’t lose you too. I’d be so–” He hesitated, breathing in deeply just to choke on a sob. “I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.” He poured out the burdens weighing on his conscience, confirming your long-forgotten wonder that he was just as emotional when he was faced with his grief head-on; the same intensity seen in his short-tempered anger.

You simply hushed him, cooing reassurance that he accepted with greed. “Nothing is going to happen to me.” The rational fear being expressed aloud made your shoulders shake and head buzz with anxiety, but you steeled yourself at the reminder of Miguel melting into your tearful embrace like putty. You needed to be strong for him when he wasn’t, just like how he pushed himself to the greatest extent his body can endure all the times before. 

“It’s just, I can’t lose where I come from.” You worked at ridding his foot from your webs as your serene tone accompanied his sniffles, his breathing settling out bit by bit as you continued to finally explain yourself. In regards to Miguel's quietness, you genuinely thought he was listening. “You can’t keep me away and shield me from my own mistakes, O’Hara. It’s just not possible, I need a home to thrive and protect. Without my people, I’m going to disappear as well.” A snap of your webs trapping his limbs finished your little speech, indicating that time was up and you had a job to do.

“I’m.. worried.” He mumbles aloud, like the sentence itself was foreign on his tongue. “These creatures from foreign worlds, they are drawn to your universe as if there’s a pulling force. I haven’t been able to figure it out. It’s so infuriating, it’s like I can’t do–”

You intercept his little tangent as you grab his chin and lift his gaze to meet yours’, an unsaid question hanging into the atmosphere like an old letter to a former self. Do you want this? Is this okay? I’m scared of messing this up.

The question is answered as Miguel’s grasp finds purchase in your flesh, claws digging into your thighs like if he let you go you’d fade along with everything else of his. In a messy, salty clash of teeth against fangs and tongue against lips, Miguel lapped up every inch of your mouth like he had to memorize every crevice of your entire being. It’s as if the two of you have synchronized, being able to suspect slight changes in each other’s mood as he grew more needy with the introduction of desire bubbling against the forefront of your mind.

“We can do this.” You murmured into his cheek, hands dancing over his suit in case this was the last time you’d ever be blessed with his presence again.

Miguel nodded, heaving for breath before he snatched one last kiss– sincere and genuine and full of unfiltered affection. “Yeah,” His nose met the crook of your neck, grazing each curve it stumbled upon.

“Together, mi alma.”

[anakinniesluv]

Thinking about Rival!Anakin who’s kind of a flirt and how things would go down.

⁂

You don’t know how you got here. On minute you were spitting insults at your rival, the next he had you pushed up against the wall, body pressed against his as your 5 senses are smothered with nothing but him. On top of that, his presence in the force completely consumes every cell in your body. His lips are warm as they are pushed against yours, and you can tell he’s holding himself back. Though your years of tension, teasing, and forced rivalry pour into the action, you can tell he wants more. His energy is almost primal, yet somehow reserved. You pull back lightly, hand on his chest as your lips are almost still touching. “You’re holding back,” you say, voice breathy and unusually soft against his lips. “Just trying to be gentle, angel,” he says, voice slightly ragged and a small smirk stretched across his face. The irony of the statement makes you grin, considering your… rough past. “The last thing you’ve ever been with me is gentle, Anakin,” you reply, making him chuckle breathily and nod in agreement to your statement. “And maybe I like it that way,” you add, voice lower in a way that drives him crazy. He wants to take you right here on the wall, watch you try to stay quiet as he pounds into you, trying not to scream him name for every Jedi in the temple to hear. He wants to feel your nails dig into his back and to see tears well up in your eyes from how he’s making you feel. The thoughts invade his mind and for a second he almost acts on them. But he doesn’t, he keeps some of his composure as he looks into your eyes. A breath leaves his lips. “You asking me to be rough with you? Wouldn’t think that you’re freaky like that,” *he smirks, his lips moving away from yours and closer to your cheek. You just smirk at him, levelling his face with yours and staring into his eyes. “Maybe.” Something in his eyes shifts. He captures your lips again, but this time it’s different. Almost primal. You’re in for a long night.

⁂

This is kind of rushed and not much but it’s my first time writing since like… last year. Have some mercy pls 🙏

[sunnysam-my]

It's ironic almost that Viv shoves "rep" into her shows and went out of her way to include a deaf child at an adult sex circus show for said "rep" but like. Fuck people with visual disabilities right? Because neither of those shows have considered how people with colorblindness or even mild visual impairment might not be able to even WATCH the shows with how bad their colour balancing is.

Viv has completely ignored that having unique designs and color palettes for your world and characters is not only basic design for cartoons but also how you maybe your show accessible to those who struggle visually

Funny you ask me that, I actually already made a post about that signing scene and distracting captioner's notes, because I have a hearing disorder and wanted to add my two cents.

I can't get over the fact the it wasn't a teenager around the age Fizz was when he went to that show with Blitzø. I genuinely can't think why they decided to have a young child be the fan other than it being more wholesome because it was a child.

Think for a second about why this scene there. Fizz was spiraling, consumed by thoughs of not being enough and being a "fake, sellout jester". He himself was a disabled teenager who wanted to be the greatest clown of his times. He ended up as a fake, sellout jester, just like Blitz said. But he saw himself in that kid. He saw for who really he wanted to perform. I don't think it would be as impactful to him if it was regular imp, but this would make infinitely more sense, on so many levels, if this was a teenager. But no, we gotta have a freaking child, because it's just way more cuter that way, right? I genuinely don't understand what other possible reasons for why this was a child, and not a teenager, could be.

I'm also still not over the fucking captions. I had problems with following what was happening in S02E06 of Helluva Boss, because of weirdly described sounds and big chunks of captioner's notes and jokes. That's unacceptable.

The irony of literally being an asshole to deaf/HoH people by purposeful fucking up the caption, the thing we rely on to be able watch a show, only to "give" a representation to said group next episode is almost funny.

But going back to the visuals, yes, it's so hard to watch. HB is better than Hazbin, but both aren't great if you have any sort of vision disorder, and this is coming from someone who just have the regular stuff, shortsightedness, astigmatism etc. The legally blind and colourblind folks must have it hard. HH is a joke when it comes to any sort of contrast. Even if they decided to stick to red(-ish) colours, there's still so much shades to work with. It isn't a impossible to make monochromatic art. In fact it's actually a popular training tool for young artists to learn how to do it even when you have more colours.

Here's some examples of monochromatic and mostly monochromatic art done right.

Now compare one of them with a screenshots from HH, both without saturation (black and white).

Hazbin Hotel isn't even monochromatic and fails miserably at any contrast. So no, it isn't just the problem of lack of hue (colour) differentces, it overall just failed at colour and contrast balancing, especially in the hotel, and there's no defending HH on this, because you have three sliders god damnit!

[dollmaidcrystal]

During a period when Mistress was too focused on work to play with her submissives, I became too tight for her to comfortably fit two fingers into. As punishment, I've been assigned to train on the Motorbunny Buck, Mistress's fucking machine of choice, daily for a month.

Day 1: Is this supposed to be a punishment? This doesn't seem like a punishment at all.

Day 2: I'm already tired of having to run an extra load on the dishwasher every day, since it has the all-important "Sanitize" cycle for cleaning up the Motorbunny attachments.

Day 3: Daily training is starting to pay off. That last session felt good. Really good.

Day 4: Riding the fucking machine is not the punishment, it's having to clean up afterwards every day. I asked Mistress if I could have permission to move the Motorbunny to next to the guest showers. (She said no.)

Day 5: Barely avoided disaster today. I forgot to lock up the door to the dungeon when the municipal water inspector came by to look around the basement. Fortunately, I spotted my mistake while he was still taking his boots off upstairs.

Day 6: Skip day. Mistress was home from work, and she called "dibs".

Day 7: Experimented more with the higher vibration settings today and probably overdid it. I’m going to have to take it easy for the next few days while my poor sissy booty heals.

Day 8: Switched from the spiral dildo to the precision probe. Today's training consists of trying to find exactly where all of my spots are.

Day 9: Skip day. I had a doctor's appointment. Real life takes priority!

Day 10: To make up for skipping a day, I switched to the larger Doc Johnson attachment. It was too large to ride, so I had to use the vertical wedge stand to be taken from behind. Taking something that large felt sooo good.

Day 11: Oh crap. While moving the Motorbunny back upright, I heard a crack. The plastic casing of the adapter plug cracked in half. I jury rigged back together (with some scary sparks!), but that is going to be a problem.

Day 12: A warranty replacement for the adapter is already on its way. I am more impressed by the customer service than how good I felt after today's session.

Day 13: Skip day. Mistress came home from work early because she was feeling sick. My time was spent taking care of her and lecturing her about the importance of diet and daily exercise. Writing this down in my punishment journal, I'm glad she was too sick to notice the irony.

Day 14: After some experimentation, the Motorbunny hits my spots best if I’m leaning all the way forward or arching backwards. I'm pretty sure I should stick to arching back in photosets.

Day 15: Mistress is still sick, which makes these daily training sessions extra hard. When she's healthy, I know that riding the fucking machine is a warmup for being played with later, but now I know it's going to leave me extra frustrated for the rest of the day.

Day 16: I’m starting to crave something in my mouth during these daily rides. I’m not sure how to deal with that. Maybe I should bring a box of Triscuits to the dungeon tomorrow? Will that work?

Day 17: Bringing a ball gag down to the dungeon definitely helps with my oral cravings, but I feel kind of silly doing it. It doesn’t help that 🐶 is staring at me like he’s judging my technique at chewing a ball. "Bloody amateur can't even keep in in her mouth without a safety strap."

Day 18: Mistress had some time to personally supervise my training today. The splash image on this post comes from this session.

Day 19: The warranty replacement adapter just arrived! I think I'll leave the broken one in place and keep the new one as a backup. I said it once, and I'll say it again: I am seriously impressed by the level of customer service Motorbunny has.

Day 20: Pondering upgrades to the Motorbunny using the Bondage Erector Set. Reflective Desires has so many ideas that I want to steal.

Day 21: The cursed LureVibe fucking bear is now making the rounds. I wonder if I should upgrade from Motorbunny to Motorbear. https://lurevibe.com/products/doll-automatic-thrusting-vibrating-swing-machine-female-masturbation-device

Day 22: Mistress is upset that most of the pictures she took makes me look hunchbacked. I need to find a way to ride the Motorbunny that's more photogenic, apparently.

Day 23: Gross! I accidentally put another layer of condom and lube on the attachment and didn’t peel it off before washing. Now I have a layer of cooked on dry lube to scrub off my dildo.

Day 24: I can't figure out how to advance my training. Mistress wants me to train to be penetrated at a wider variety of angles (instead of the one that feels really, really good but looks awful on camera). What even is the best to train for that? Wiggle around on the dildo every day?

Day 25: Following a friend’s advice, I’m trying yoga on the Motorbunny to improve my range of positions. This is a weird experience, and not just because of how hard it is to hold a stretch while being fucked.

Day 26: Skip day. After Pride Weekend, I can't move.

Day 27: Flexibility training continues. I’ve learned I’m not going to be able to move which spots feel good, but I can move the rest of my body. Biggest bang for my buck seems to be in getting more dramatic back arches, followed by working on my range of leg motion.

Day 28: Taking a break from trying to improve my form. Instead, I'm putting in the thickest attachment I can handle and enjoying the ride.

Day 29: I'm putting off today's training to edit and post this punishment journal. I'm hitting post now so I can get back to training.

[icannot3]

"Enough"

(Peter Maximoff x reader)

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: none

I did something a little different with this one, I hope you guys like it! :)

.......................

Fire. There is a fire lit inside of him that burns hotter with each passing moment. It’s in his lungs- his legs. It only drives him to move faster with each long stride. He almost leaps across the dark halls.

Peter's mind has become a frenzied wasteland with your safety knowingly at stake. Moments before he had been notified by the team that you'd been left behind. He didn't wait for the next planned course of action. Charles's voice is soft in his head. "Peter, you need to be rational. This is not how we go about things. Stop at once, and please return."

Unluckily for the Professor, Peter does not view this matter as one that consecutively needs agreed on. He's hightailing it through the perimeter, scouting every crevice of the large building. Only after his breath falls short and his legs physically can no longer move from the exhaustion does he slow.

The walls are shaking, and the foundation of the building is slowly crumbling. He knows it's only a matter of time before the place is a complete pile of ash. The idea of you covered in the debris leaves him far more winded than the running.

No. He won't allow it.

With a newfound level of incentive, he whips through the premises once more. Peter is screaming your name, hoping you can hear him from wherever you may be knowing that you're going to be okay.

"Peter. Stop. You need to come back. This is just putting you both in danger." Charles is much louder now, his urgency appearant. Suddenly, every muscle in his body contracts and locks up in a still position. He's left paralyzed in an upright position. His heart hammers in his chest uncontrollably. "I do not want to resort to force, Peter."

Tears are welling up in his eyes now. Nothing is in his control. His breath shutters. Peter's movements become his own once more as the Professor releases him. There's a loud crashing noise, and a large piece of ceiling falls to the ground. But he couldn't care less. Instead of escaping, he simply slumps to the ground defeatedly.

"You just don't get it, do you, Professor?" He runs his gloved hand through his hair. "You have no clue what it's like living your entire life as a screw up." He blinks, grimacing as he imagines Charles hearing him now. Peter's glad he can't see the knowing look on his face, as if he possibly understands the issue beyond digging through the secrets in his mind. "Don't act like you do. Ah! The life of Peter Maximoff, the fastest man alive, yet can't seem to make it on time to spill the beans to dear old dad! Irony, right?"

If Charles even bothered to respond, Peter surely can no longer hear anything but his raging thoughts. "I mean, I can outrun time, dodge bullets, even grab a snack mid-rescue, but admit to Magneto that I'm his son? Now, that's a marathon I can't seem to finish. "

He throws his hands in the air, now hysterical. "Oh, but for such a pathetic guy, I gotta have some sort of redeeming quality, right? Maybe I can save the girl! But it appears that the love of my life is in danger, and I can't even do that. Yippie. That's me, Peter Maximoff! Always a step ahead, yet always a step behind."

He stands, wiping his face off with his hands. In the midst of the chaos, there came a silence. A silence so profound, it seemed to swallow up the world around him. No witty retorts, no bursts of speed, just him and his thoughts. It was as if the world had come to a standstill, leaving him trapped in the slow crawl of introspection. In this moment, he is completely and utterly as alone as he has always felt.

The clamor of the world fades into a distant hum, replaced by the deafening echo of his own heartbeat. Everything around him blurs, details lost in a sea of uncertainty. His breath catches in his throat, a silent plea for a respite that wouldn't come.

Suddenly, like a lightning bolt, clarity strikes Peter. Self-deprecation won't save you. His gaze hardens, determination replacing the fear. The world comes rushing back, the noise, the chaos, all of it. But now, he's not drowning in it. He's using it, channeling it.

His feet move before he even realizes it, each step a silent promise to himself. He won't let you down. Not this time. The world blurs around him as he picks up speed, everything else falling away until there's only one thing left, the one thing that matters - you.

Peter's heart pounds in his chest, not from fear, but anticipation. The rubble slowly crashes behind him as the building nears its demise. He searches high and low, not wasting a single second.

There's a sound. It's so faint that he almost misses it entirely. But he sprints towards its direction, leading him outside of the building. There you are, limping away from the structure that in Peter's mind is slowly toppling over and is about to crush you. In your injured state, it's been made impossible to escape. Luckily, he swoops in at the perfect moment to catch and pull you away.

Relief washes over him, sending chills through his body from the intensity. You're both coughing from the inhalation of dust that has soiled the fresh air. He could care less and only pulls you to him tighter. He can feel your strong heartbeat. The previous fear and doubt he felt all began to melt away. It's replaced by a sense of accomplishment, knowing that despite everything he saved you.

He's pressing kisses to your brow, consoling you as much as he can. With a sigh of relief, he finally lets go of the guilt that had been gnawing at him. He has proven to himself that he is capable, that he is enough. And in that moment, he finds closure. He's no longer the boy who can't act fast enough. He's the hero who did.

[azu1as]

dumb rotmhs fanfic idea: one hundred years after his death, tang bo reincarnates as the son of a wealthy merchant family in shaolin.

—basically, a tangcheong reincarnation ficlet set during the shaolin tournament arc 👍

»—————————–✄

Part 1 2 3

the zheng family was the leader of a wealthy merchant guild in shaolin. while they were not on the same level as the hwang, they were still influential enough for rumors to run amok.

And rumors always circled their eldest son.

zheng bo was as much of an enigma to his family as he was to those within their village. he had always been a quiet child but, one day, something happened that /changed/ the then five-year old.

the zheng family's son cried tears upon tears. he was absolutely inconsolable. his small body shook, overcome with emotions so heavy that his entire body was painfully heaving.

and when he woke up, eyes bloodshot and distant, it was as if the childhood spark in his eyes disappeared along with his tears the previous night.

off-handedly, his father noted the history book that was dropped haphazardly on the floor. several of its pages were scrunched up terribly.

the zheng partiarch mistook it as his son's desire to learn martial arts, but quickly learned the opposite as his son glared at the instructor with so much vitriol it was poisonous.

no matter how many instructors he sent his son's way, he all turned them back—uncaring whether they were decades-long martial artists, instructors of renowned ones, or teachers from the shaolin sect itself. if anything the latter worsened zheng bo's mood to the nth degree.

ashamedly and with deep regret, both the zheng patriarch and matriarch had to give up on their son as they realized the teaching him how to inherit their merchant guild was a futile endeavor. zheng bo would rather stay cooped up in his room in complete silence.

the zheng family had three more children after their eldest yet none of their births affected the dark veil of mourning that shadowed their eldest brother.

A veil that no one could ever seem to lift.

other families often asked after him, most in hopes of marrying off their daughters, but the zheng matriarch stiffly laughed them off.

they had tried once to set a play date with another merchant family's daughter, but it ended up with her in tears and vomiting with an upset stomach. the same occured with the next and third ones.

they catch zheng bo slip a vial with an unknown substance back into his sleeve and understood the lengths he would go to avoid such a thing from happening again.

many years go by and their second son inherited their family's merchant guild, much to the confusion of many.

it stirred up interest in zheng bo. rumors went around about his inability to perform his duties as the eldest son; some said that he was actually a bastard which was why he was overlooked.

former servants and workers from the zheng family whispered about the eldest son's madness and how his mania could not be cured by even the best of doctors and healers.

but as with all rumors and public interest, it died down when no new information sprung forth.

zheng bo was simply a crazy son who was better kept within the walls of the zheng estate than be let out for fear of what his madness would lead him to do.

when the shaolin tournament began with warriors and fighters from the ten great sects and other notable families, the zheng patriarch tried to urge zheng bo to attend and simply watch the battles with the rest of the family.

zheng bo scoffed at him.

their second son placed a comforting hand on his father's shoulders and suggested that they just let him be, "the winner has already been decided. i'm sure eldest brother would end up bored."

but the world had a funny sense of irony.

mount hua was the competition's dark horse. they were nigh unstoppable, flicking away their opponent's swords with absolute ease and twisiting around them as if they were falling petals themselves. it was an unexpected but amazing start to the competition.

as the finals approached, discussion about the upcoming fight between mount hua's divine dragon and shaolin's hye yeon run rampant outside of shaolin's walls. inside the zheng estate, no one could stop talking about the unexpected showing from what should have been a fallen sect.

tang bo, by chance, overheard the praises heeped on mount hua's divine dragon who had beaten everyone he had faced undeniably and soundly.

a part of him felt guilty that he had been too overwhelmed by his own grief and pain to even step out and check on his family and hyung's sect—especially after what he had learned about the aftermath of the battle against the demonic sect one hundred year ago.

so felt a strong wave of relief at the knowledge that mount hua had regained its footing somehow and that it was doing well enough to receive awed praise.

he felt imensely grateful towards whoever this divine dragon was because he seemed to the center of mount hua's revival.

tang bo idly wondered if chung myung was berating him in the afterlife. he asked him to take care of tang bo's family, but couldn't offer the same for his sect, he imagined that the other man would just exaggeratedly roll his eyes and tell him to start doing better then, you bastard.

and so tang bo, for the first time in a decade, knowingly chose to leave his room and approach his second-life father first.

thirty years was a long enough period to mourn, even if his heart still aches with regret.

but tang bo supposed supporting mount hua's divine dragon in the finals was a start.

[sailorblossoms]

Yet another Jealous Simon post

Saw this scene again here and it just hit me that this is lost in the hilarious irony of Simon saying “nobody is seducing a vampire” while Baz is Right There like “am I a joke to you?” but CO is already telling you that Simon answering “who am I jealous over, Baz or Agatha?” with “both, I guess” is bullshit right here too (it’s the easiest answer to avoid processing).

I mean… I was logging on here saying “Simon’s romantic jealousy is only about Baz” (and sexual, or however the fuck you want to name it) because he doesn’t give a fuck about Agatha having male attention or having had a boyfriend while he was mistakenly telling himself “he wanted her” (he didn’t want her, he wanted to be like her, he’s finding her aspirational in the memory he uses as an example when he’s tellingly like 12, when he should have plenty to draw from during their time dating or before if he actually wanted her – he has nothing!) (and we only learn shit like that in her own POV, or when Baz calls Dev), Simon snatching Baz’s handkerchief from her and keeping it to himself, “nobody knows Baz better than me” (he’s even seeing Agatha as competition), essentially making a jealous scene to Baz (can’t listen to what Baz is trying to say because he can’t get past “did you have to hold her hands??”) etc. But I can’t believe I missed this shit.

In the scene is question, Penny and Baz are talking about “seducing” Nicodemus (I’m pretty sure Baz is just being a little shit here). It’s Penny’s idea, and Simon’s response is basically “none of my female friends are seducing a vampire” (he, however, is perfectly allowed to seduce one) because note that Penny is presented as an option first, and Simon’s reaction is “no.” Immediately. Then Penny singles out Agatha, saying she was thinking about her seducing a Vampire… and Simon’s reaction? Fucking nothing. He’s completely focused on telling Agatha they’re not doing anything illegal instead. And after that, he says The Line. Simon has a much stronger reaction to Penny. Penny singles out Agatha, but Simon’s reaction singles out Penny… which firmly establishes this line as platonic concern over the girls, rather than jealousy because Agatha might be seducing someone. Agatha and Penny are grouped together here, put on the same level (and, as usual, Penny comes first… note that whenever Simon brings up important people in his life, Penny is always leading his list, even when he’s like “oh well I’m dating Agatha, shouldn’t I put her higher in my list?) (when it’s a general “important people” in his life, he mentions her second – he mentions her dad too, the mage is third iirc – when it’s Agatha The Girlfriend? She’s dead last) (tellingly, Baz is talked about constantly before either list is brought up). With Agatha, the only time Simon has a reaction to her being around a vampire is when it’s Baz. When he doesn’t feel like he can “trust her” to be around Baz. Even when he’s not explicit about this or it might deceivingly look like it’s the other way around, Simon establishes her as competition through his actions and behavior, and only ever cares if the “target” is Baz.

With Simon’s closest friends, he draws the line at “seducing” a vampire. With Baz? He draws the line at talking to them. When he’s kissing him, one of the things he’s thinking is “I’m not ever letting him go, I like him under my hands, not off plotting and talking to vampires.” Baz should be kissing Simon, not doing objectionable things such as “plotting” and “talking to vampires”…. I’m repeating this shit right here for emphasis because italics aren’t enough.

And if it needs to be more obvious… enter Lamb in the next book. Simon, who already had a problem with Baz talking to other vampires, goes along with this because they think it’s the only way to get information to rescue our good pal Agatha… he’s not even fucking contemplating seducing, and then All That happens. Then Simon has to hear Baz doing more than talking (he’s flirting!! And having milkshakes! And practically DATING the vampire!!!). He immediately reacts to Baz saying “maybe he wants privacy” with “fuck that, we’re all going” even while talking about other things and eating (only Baz gets more attention than food, which Simon puts no.1 in his list of favorite things when going to Warford, even before Penny) (with Agatha the reaction is the opposite: he’s focusing on the discussion). We know what happens later (Simon attempts murder) (screaming “I’m his boyfriend” at Lamb as his introduction… classic “he’s taken, so back off bitch” move).

Then in awtwb, he’s strongly opposed to sending Baz “alone on a mission.” Las Vegas has him traumatized. He puts “you’re not going alone because it could be dangerous” on the same level as “I’m not listening to you have another date.” Except “I’m not listening to my boyfriend talk to other men (who might be interested in him and might try to make a move while I’m here, unable to do shit about it)” is perhaps the most distressing thought, because in Vegas, Simon trusted Baz to keep himself safe, but after Vegas, he can’t trust Baz in the latter situation because he has no vibe-check. Important things are at play, and rather than focusing on that (like he focuses on “we’re not doing anything illegal”) he’s focusing on “no way in hell I’m letting my boyfriend go there by himself when he might end up on another date without even realizing while I listen. Fuck no, not again. I’m not strong enough.”

[aralezinspace]

Send Me to Sleep

Requested by anonymous: fluff with insomniac reader and the prompt "why are you still up?"

A/N: Here have some tooth rotting fluff, I am not responsible for your dental bills xD fun fact, the thing Dream does to help reader sleep is the same thing I do to get my tiny humans to go to sleep, made this slightly bittersweet to write b/c after next Friday I won't be working with tiny kids anymore i'll be working with college age kids ANYWAY hope you enjoy!! 💖💖

~~Requests are open!~~ ~~Current WIPs~~

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

It was almost as if the ticking of your antique alarm clock was mocking you, loudly reminding you of every passing second you spent awake when you should be dead to the world.

Your insomnia was nothing new, it had plagued you since college. It was conditional on your stress levels, which was somewhat ironic: the more stressed you were, the less you slept. The less you slept, the more stressed you became.

Since figuring out that pattern your senior year, you had done everything you could to keep your daily life stress free enough for you to sleep, and it had been working out for the most part, aside from busy times of the year when work, family, and friends all collided in a few hectic weeks. Times of the year like Christmas, the height of summer, and for some reason, the entire month of April.  

This week was not supposed to be one of them.

You stuffed your face into your pillow to muffle your frustrated scream. It was now going on 3:30am, and you had to be up and getting in the shower at 6. You sat up with a heavy sigh and ran your fingers through your hair. Sleep was obviously not coming tonight, so you decided to get some chores done around your apartment.

Under the hot spray of the shower two and a half hours later, you groaned as you felt the heaviness behind your eyes that indicated your body was ready for sleep. Of course it had to happen when you were getting ready for yet another busy day at work… which would probably stress you out to the point where you wouldn’t be able to sleep, or your body would just shut down out of sheer desperation.

“Ugh, Dream’s gonna kill me,” you grumbled into your towel. “Well it’s not like there’s anything I can do about it.”

If anyone else had been this invested in your sleep schedule, it would have been extremely weird. But the fact that it was your partner, the ruler of the Dreaming and Nightmare realms. Sleeping was kind of his thing, and once again the irony was not lost on you: a conditional insomniac, in love with the literal sandman.

~~

Your day was just one thing after another, mostly phone calls. More than the usual volume at work, then a call from your dad, then another one from your aunt for some reason, then one from your brother that you sent straight to voicemail just to have a break. Future you thanked past you for that, turns out he just wanted to once again complain about his boyfriend.

When you got home, your mind was fuzzy with exhaustion, and your body jittered and shook from the after effects of the four cups of coffee required just to get through it all. You felt like crap, and probably looked like crap too.

You shambled through changing into your pajamas and making dinner, barely tasting the food as you chewed. You barely registered what episode you were on, thankfully it was a show you had seen before. Your “bedtime” wasn’t for another two hours; you were ready to drop, but fucking up your sleep schedule even more was a recipe for disaster.

You dragged your hands down your face and groused, “Ugh fuck me.”

“With pleasure.”

The rumbling chortle came from the shadows by your front door, making you spring to your feet. The rush of adrenaline rendered you wide awake, at least long enough to process who was currently standing in your apartment.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as Dream of the Endless strode into the light of your living room, hands in the pockets of his signature coat. It slowly dropped from his face as he took in more of your appearance: the blue, almost black bags under your eyes, the pallor of your skin, the slump of your body as if the immense burden of his responsibilities rested on your shoulders.

“My love,” he pressed, almost like a parent trying to get the truth of some mischief out of a child, “It has been some days since I have felt you in the Dreaming for longer than a few moments. Have you not been sleeping again?”

The way your entire body sagged in defeat was all the answer he needed.

He stepped closer to you, gently resting his hands on your shoulders. “Darling, when was the last time you had a good night’s rest?” You shrugged, your brain struggling to come up with an answer that you were allowed to give. Once again, your body language gave him the answer.

“Then why are you still up?” He didn’t sound angry, only deeply concerned. “Why did you not call for me?”

You swallowed hard before mumbling, “I didn’t want to bother you.” A heavy sigh pushed itself out of Dream’s chest and his hands moved to hold your face in his hands, taking the weight of your head off your shoulders. “Beloved, you are never a bother to me. “I would not be a worthy monarch of the Dreaming if I could not even ease my own partner to rest.”

You couldn’t help your chuckle; it was the closest you had ever heard Morpheus come to humility. Your smile brought a tiny mirror of the gesture to Dream’s face as he rubbed his thumb over your cheekbone, trying not to focus on the deep shadows beneath your eyes. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, letting his lips lingered as he inhaled deeply through his nose, taking in your essence. It stuck in his nose, tainted by your exhaustion. He breathed his words into your skin, “Let’s get you into bed.”

Swift like quicksilver, he scooped you into his arms, drawing a startled squeak out of you, closely followed by a bashful giggle. Dream carried you to your bedroom, staring lovingly at you the entire time. Your bed was still unmade from this morning, and he gently deposited you in it before pulling the blankets over you.

You snuggled into the covers, drawing them up to your chin. You smiled at Dream as he sat next to you on top of the covers. Cool fingers brushed your hair out of your face. You murmured, “Gonna use your sand to send me off?”

Dream chuckled, soft and low and slightly smug. “No, I will not need it to get you to sleep. I need only do this.” His forefinger settled between your eyebrows (some would say over your third eye) and gently rubbed the skin there. You hummed softly, wiggling deeper into the comfort of your bed. Dream’s eyes practically glowed in the darkness of your room, distant, even though he was sitting right beside you.

You were more than bone tired, and sank easily into his soothing touch. Your eyes flickered and fluttered for a moment before finally falling shut. Dream’s touch on your forehead was the only thing that existed in the blackness behind your eyelids, safe and comforting. You could practically feel the stress leaking out of you and into the mattress.

In your last moment of lucidity before you drifted off, you heard Dream murmur, “Sleep well, beloved. I will see you soon.”

[moonlight-prose]

FIRST LIGHT

➛ #01. ETERNAL DARKNESS

a/n: this fic has been shoving its way to the front of my brain for months now. so i finally decided to sit down and write the first chapter. tommy miller somehow snuck up on me in 2023, and now there's really no going back with this man. i love him and all his agonies. this is a fic that i'm really connected to and terrified to post actually. it's also a level of angst i've never put out before so i'm handing tissues to y'all now.

summary: tommy miller never thought he would end up alone. not when he had family behind him - a life that wasn't perfect, but good enough. yet there he was, kneeling on the cold forest floor - bloodied and bruised - asking to die. until light streams through the trees, and he sees you.

word count: 2k+

pairing: tommy miller x f!reader

warnings: not explicit, grief, angst so much angst it's actually painful, tommy wants to die, tw suicide mention, blood, death, grief, the horrors of living through an apocalypse, IF YOU DON'T VIBE WITH A TON OF ANGST THIS IS NOT FOR YOU.

NEXT CHAPTER | SERIES MASTERLIST

There was no light in a body split down the middle. A body filled to the brim with splinters and jagged edges. With a hollow emptiness that created an opening—a chasm.

He could feel how the darkness soaked in, filling the spaces where light once belonged—where hope used to be. But nothing could exist if pain—grief—reigned free. A wild ruthless thing, cracking apart whatever remained. Feeding off the shine that once thrived there.

There was no light.

Not anymore.

He ran through the woods, the heaviness of his boots snapping twigs and branches as he went. The cracking echoed through the air, sharp and loud, accompanied by the heaviness of his breaths. Each one, more painful than the last. His fingers clenched around the ripped leather wrapped around the blade’s handle so tight his knuckles went white. At one point it was brand new, perfect. A birthday gift from his brother. He called it special—once.

Now it dripped red.

Wild eyes darted around the surrounding area, his breaths coming in slower—an attempt to slow the erratic beat of his heart. He could still taste it. The pungent sting of copper that built up in the back of his throat like bile. He couldn’t tell the difference at this point. They burned all the same.

Sucking in a breath, he felt his chest tighten, his eyes red with exhaustion. The nights were desolate, sleep no longer a priority when nothing but memories of a past he couldn’t get back to plagued him. What he wouldn’t give to go back. Maybe then he could save himself; end it before it even began.

Birds no longer chirped the same. He noticed that three days into being alone. As if nature had taken her beauty away; an act of punishment for the selfish behavior of humanity. They took her for granted. Used her up until nothing remained; until her grounds ran red with blood. And this was their consequence. An eternity of misery, of reaping what they sowed from her poisoned grounds.

He stopped breathing, stilled every limb of his body, and listened. For the signal of people coming after him. Or something worse. For a blissful numbing moment, he wished for the latter.

At least then he’d have an excuse.

His palm was warm, slicked and sticky with the color of crimson that stained his skin. A red right hand for the man filled with nothing but regret. If he could feel anything, he might have laughed at the sheer irony. Once upon a time he wanted to save the world. Now he was ready to watch it burn.

Silence spilled out of every corner. A deafening echo he yearned to find relief in. His body had other ideas though.

Clambering forward, he pressed himself against the nearest tree. The bark scraped his palm as he clutched it, tight enough to draw blood. But the bile had built and built and he could feel his body beg for something other than pain. Tilting forward he went dizzy as he dry heaved. His stomach was empty—the food he stole burned a hole in his pack.

Would it set him on fire?

Would he turn to ash here in the middle of the woods?

A sickening hope entered his chest. As thick as tar and black as night. Yet for a man who had nothing to cling to—this was enough. This would have to do.

He’d take what he could get. In a world ruined by death, a bitter hope was all he could carry. He would continue to push this boulder of grief up the hill paved with the souls of the past. The ones who could no longer sustain the heavy weight of their own heart. Some days he wondered if he could keep going, yet every morning he still woke up.

A bit more numb than the day before.

But still alive.

He used to feel hopeful at the realization. Now all that remained was bitter disappointment.

He bit down on the inside of his right cheek hard to stave off his pained shout. Copper flooded his mouth, but this was familiar. As if his body recognized a taste it’d grown to know. Clutching his thigh and waist, he stumbled away from the tree. There was nowhere to go, no place to hide, but the drive to keep moving kept him alive. The need to be anywhere but here.

Blood coated his once white t-shirt, his jeans a darker hue of blue as the wound on his thigh continued to drain out. Tommy knew he didn’t have long—spots of darkness peeking into the corners of his vision. The threat of oncoming blackness.

“Fucking shit,” he hissed, squeezing his eyes shut as the burn of pain spread through his veins.

Images of the man flashed behind his eyelids. Blood, so much of it, filled his senses. He could still smell it, the hot flush against his skin as he pressed down on the blade hard enough to sever that link between life and the human body. How ruthless he’d been was sharp in his mind. And for the first time in a long time, Tommy was afraid of himself.

He killed the man with his special knife. The engraving Joel placed there—a reminder that his brother was always with him—glared back. I’m proud of you, coupled with the offset reflection of a man he didn’t recognize. There was no life in his brown eyes, no light. Only a thrill he’d seen before—a darkness he locked away the second it crept to the surface.

A piece of him that wasn’t human.

He bit down harder on his cheek, tearing through the flesh with ease. Would Joel be proud of him now? Would he look at him with the eyes of a big brother? The promise to protect him lingering in the brown Tommy knew better than his own. Or would he leave him alone all over again; claim he was a lost cause. After all, there was no use in saving the soul of a man this far gone.

Tommy’s breaths came in short, quick little gasps as he fought to stay upright. To push his boulder a little further.

But what was the use? What did he have left to offer the world? The man’s blood began to dry to his skin, into the grooves and lines of his palms. His fate line, heartline, and everything in between now coated in the essence of another being. A reminder that what he had done—what he’d taken—would remain with him until the end of his lifeline.

Being alone wasn’t new to him. Not when his only sibling had to grow up faster than he expected, leaving Tommy behind to figure out shit on his own. But this…the aching pit of isolation was something he didn’t know how to handle. He could still see Joel’s face, the lines of disappointment suddenly deeper than when he was younger. Pity in the brown that once used to shine with hope.

They both changed. They had to with the way things shifted so quickly.

Except Tommy never thought the only thing keeping him sane—the only tie he had to his past—would leave him alone.

He felt that overwhelming despair begin to swell in his throat, clawing to his chest like a beast starving for more. There was no one here to see him fail. No one here to save him from the darkness.

There was no one here to watch him die.

“Please,” he breathed, his voice ragged and raw from not needing to use it. As days came and went he remained silent. His words, trapped in the empty cavern of his chest.

There was no reason to speak when no one would hear his agony.

“Please.”

The beg morphed the longer he stood there, repeating it softly. Swaying on his feet. He wasn’t sure who he was speaking to. Who his plea was going out to, but Tommy didn’t care anymore. The pain that he tried to control—keep at bay for as long as he could—finally began to seep into his mind. Cracking the final pieces of his soul off like a bottle shattering on the floor. He begged for the release of this anguish, for time to turn back, for his brother to return to him.

He begged for death on a silver platter.

Unashamed, unabashed, and unafraid.

His knees slammed against the forest floor as he fell, his body sagging forward slightly, hands clutching onto his waist as blood spilled down his leg. If he didn’t patch himself up and chose to remain this way, he’d eventually bleed out. Right here on the dirt. He’d return to the Earth, become one with the moss that would eventually grow over his body.

Even that seemed like the better choice than this.

Fighting to live without end. In a world that would be happy to see him get snuffed out like a candle. Entirely blown away with nature’s breath. Her viciousness finally coming to fruition.

He gasped for a breath. Hot tears spilled over his scraped cheeks, his blood split lip from fighting now burning with the salt. Only this time he didn’t try to stop himself, sober his emotions and gather his surroundings. This time, he sunk into the darkness that ate away at his soul, consuming him bit by bit like a decadent meal it wanted to savor. He was its sustaining life force.

Until there was nothing left of him.

“Please,” he whispered, his voice cracking from the strain of the truth.

Tommy had never known an emotion quite like this. He never knew what welcoming death meant. Although he supposed a man would never know until he was faced with its truth; until something pushed him far enough.

He’d seen Joel go through it. Watched as his brother grappled with the decision to stay alive, and he would have joined Sarah soon enough. If Tommy hadn’t shoved his hand out of the way. Joel claims he flinched, Tommy knew the truth. He didn’t flinch, he stood still as stone with his eyes closed…he never saw Tommy’s hand coming.

But Joel would never know the truth.

A soft grin played on his lips as memories of his brother and niece flashed behind his eyes. Like a movie reel playing in a lonesome theater. He was the only person sitting there, transfixed to the screen. And Tommy would have spent the rest of his life there, watching. At least there he felt joy, hope. Emotions he thought he’d never have again.

“Please,” he sighed, his eyes fluttering open to see the light that filtered through the branches.

It fell on the floor like a spotlight, playing along it like water, and he found himself breathless to its beauty. Nature was extending her hand gently, offering him the last bit of beauty he’d get to witness. Placing a small amount of peace at his feet in retribution for what he’d gone through; what he was giving up. Tommy’s wounds continued to bleed, but for that brief moment…he didn’t feel a thing.

No pain, no hurt.

Just peace.

Something cracked in the distance, a twig breaking under the boot of someone, but he felt no need to react. The blade lay on the ground beside him, still bloody, still tainted with his guilt and regret. But there was no use picking it up now. He was already too far gone. Another helpless soul lost to a world on fire.

He could see it now. The sunlight illuminated behind their body, a soft voice echoing in the distance, and his lips curved into yet another smile. Was this nature? Had she come to lead him? Tommy gasped in another breath, forcing his eyes to focus, and yet all he could see was a blurred sight of this being. They practically glowed as they approached quicker than before.

“Hi,” he murmured, eyes wide yet unseeing.

Soft warm hands cupped his face, tilted his head, and replied something he couldn’t hear. But the light was too bright, too welcoming, and Tommy was so fucking tired. More words came, questions. He heard nothing. Just the softness of their touch, the gentleness of their nature, until it all faded. And nothing remained.

[randonauticrap]

Say Yes

Pairing ~ Jin Grandet x Reader

Word Count ~ 2.5k

Synopsis ~ Based on Jin's 18th Level Bond Story: Jin proposes a game to you in which no matter what question he asks you, you have to say "yes"... and you have to mean it. Appearances from the domestic affairs faction!

Author's Note ~ I've been absent for awhile, but it felt SO good to get back into writing for my favorite man. This is my first entry into @aquagirl1978's "A Series of Firsts" event, with my darling Jin and the prompt "First Kiss"! SO excited about my love finally getting his own feature in a fanfic writing event! <3

“Man! What a meal.” Leon whooped as he settled into one of the plush chairs around the fireplace with a hand over his swollen stomach. 

“It was amazing, thank you Leon.” you said earnestly, moving inside the door to the sitting room after Yves and Licht. 

“Sure was.” a silken baritone voice rumbled from behind you and two large, firm hands settled on each of your shoulders, giving them a squeeze as he spoke. “It was so good that I got to hear this pretty little thing moan, and I’ve always wanted to hear that.” 

“Jin, god.” you muttered softly, the palm of your hand finding your forehead to hopefully hide the heat that had risen painfully to both of your cheeks. 

“Ooh, say that again, sweetheart, I liked the sound of it.” he chuckled deeply into your ear and your whole body shivered before you decidedly pulled away from him to avoid further embarrassment. You liked Jin, it was no secret; not to you, nor to the other princes of the domestic affairs faction. You were pretty sure that even Jin himself knew, which didn’t bode well for your little crush. After all, wouldn’t he have said something at this point if the feeling was mutual? But he kept on teasing you as usual, pulling you along on his little string, then letting you go. Internally you had groaned when you’d realized the irony of the beast and prey analogy, but if that wasn’t the best way to describe your situation, you had yet to discover it. 

“Jin!” Yves fumed, glaring at the 1st prince over the tray of sweets he carried in his arms. “Must you be so vile everywhere you go?” He set the tray down on the short table in front of the fireplace and dusted his hands off before plopping down next to Licht on the long, velvet couch. 

“Vile? Yves, you wound your older brother.” Jin feigned hurt, making a show of placing his palm over his heart. You giggled at their antics before you could stop yourself, and Jin sent a wink your way. With the giddy feeling that pooled in your lower belly at his small gesture, you decided that perhaps you needed a little something to drink. At this point, it couldn’t hurt; at least alcohol would help explain the near permanent blush coloring your face. 

"Anyone else want some?" You called out as you popped the champagne bottle open. 

"I'll take some!" Leon replied. "I'm not usually a champagne guy, but we're celebrating tonight, so count me in." You chuckled, pulling another glass from the stand that Yves had brought in from the kitchen and pouring two glasses. 

"You know what I prefer." Jin's sensual voice was so close to your ear that you jumped, spilling a little of the champagne on the table in front of you. He chuckled, sending sparks through you as the hairs on your arms and the back of your neck raised. The double entendre was not lost on you, even as he reached over you to get to the whiskey bottle; the defined muscles on his arm nearly close enough to your face to touch. You couldn't help but stare at the protruding veins on his forearm that snaked up and around to his bicep like a trail on a map, just begging to be followed. Even as he pulled his arm back to his own body, whiskey bottle in hand, your eyes followed the rippling muscles underneath his smooth skin. Nothing else in the room could possibly be as fascinating. 

Behind you, Leon coughed forcibly and thankfully awoke you from your hypnosis. You blinked, at last tearing your eyes away from the first prince to focus on salvaging yours and Leon's drinks. You had always been a master at nonchalance, so your inability to act composed around Jin was very new, and wholly unwelcome. It made you feel like a fish out of water: floundering on the hard ground and pitifully attempting to breathe in air that wasn't meant for you. 

Finally, you were able to take Leon his glass, and you perched next to Licht on the couch with your own, following Jin's motions in the chair next to you from the corner of your eye. He was so relaxed, his posture open and yet commanding all at once. A low simmering power radiated from him; a power he often disguised with seductive nuance. But you knew that the moment he decided to take charge, every other prince in the room would willingly fall in line behind him. He was the eldest, and though he did his best to disregard his position, the authority was there. 

Even so, he preferred to take the backseat, to work from the shadows, to let the other princes take the credit that was owed him, and you both admired and disfavored that. You wished he thought more of himself; like you do. You thought the world of Jin Grandet, in too many ways to count. It's why you'd fallen in love with him to begin with. He was kind, fiercely kind beneath his mask of indifference. He was loyal to a fault, and so intent on making a positive difference in the world without even rising to claim the glory that accompanied it. 

However, in that darkness is also where he hid. He hid his pain and his suffering, and buried his worth under years of guilt. The darkness befit him, but it also betrayed him. You saw it in his eyes sometimes; flashes of something he'd never allow his brothers to see… something only you had been given access to. It haunted him, and you wanted nothing more than to infiltrate his darkness with moonlight and stars. Sunlight was too bright for the likes of you and Jin; too blinding, too intimidating. But the moon shone light enough; light enough to expose the truth and still bring peace to his wounded heart. 

You brooded quietly over your drink while the princes chatted, slipping further and further into a warm, murky daze as the champagne filled your senses. You didn't even notice the eyes of the first prince on you until he broke through your silence. "Let's play a game." He clapped his hands together and you jumped, your focus pulling back to your current reality with a snap. "Belle, you first. No matter what I say, you have to answer "yes". If you say "no", you lose." 

"That's a terrible game." Licht muttered beside you, but you weren't paying attention. The room had a nice, fuzzy glow surrounding it, and Jin was looking at you so earnestly. How could you ever say no to him?

"Do I have to mean it every time I say yes?" You giggled, wriggling in your seat a little. 

"Yes." Jin said, setting his glass of whiskey down on the coffee table in front of him. 

"I thought it was my turn, Jin. Hehe" You teased, suddenly feeling a little lightheaded. 

"It is, sweetheart. That was just an example." He smirked, leaning towards you. He was still several feet away from you, but it suddenly felt like he was invading your space; taking the air you needed for himself. But it was pleasant, heady, and you leaned closer, happy to lose yourself in him. 

"Okay then," you challenged. "Hit me." 

"I'll start you off easy. Do you like Yves's sweets?"

A laugh bubbled forth from your lips. "Yes, of course! Anyone who doesn't just doesn't have taste buds." 

Yves squeaked and you turned your head to find his face red. "Thank you." He murmured, a soft, embarrassed smile on his face. 

"You're welcome, Yves." You chuckled, then turned back to Jin, whose gaze had never left you. "Easy peasy, next." 

"Alright, how about… do you enjoy Sariel's lessons?" 

You grimaced, recalling the particularly difficult one you'd had earlier this afternoon. "You're not playing fair, I told you about my day." You muttered under your breath and forced yourself to think back to last week when you did well on several of the assignments he'd given you, and the perfume Sariel had treated you to in return. "But yes, I enjoy them for the most part. Sariel is always nice enough to reward me with things when I do exceptionally well, and he doesn't have to do that."

Surprise as well as something you couldn't quite pin down colored Jin's features momentarily. "Sariel gets you gifts?" You nodded enthusiastically. 

"I'm wearing the perfume he got me right now!" You stuck your arm out to him, no longer shy as the alcohol blurred some of your senses. 

"Such a lightweight." Jin murmured softly, but there was no malice in it. He and Leon shared a look you didn't understand before Jin accepted your outstretched arm, wrapping his long fingers around your forearm, and leaned his face down to nuzzle his nose into your wrist. The gasp that escaped your lips was completely involuntary, but the sound mingled with Jin's quiet groan as he took in your scent mixed with the scent of the perfume, and you felt your face fully flush at the barely concealed eroticism of the moment you were sharing. 

"Smells good." He murmured, his eyes falling closed for only a few seconds before they pulled back open and trained on you. "But I could do better. I know some scents that would suit you perfectly." His voice was almost low enough to be a growl and a hot shiver ran through you, settling in your lower belly as he let your arm go and sat back in his chair. "Last question." His voice was quiet and measured, but you felt the emotion behind it, and you were suddenly nervous. 

"Okay…" 

"Do you have feelings for me?" 

All motion in the room ceased - even the flames in the fireplace seemed to halt their dance - and every eye fell on you. You gulped, knowing that what came next could either make you the happiest woman alive, or shatter your heart into a million unsavable pieces. Your heart thumped loudly in your ears as your panicked eyes met his focused ones. You had never seen him looking so intently at anything before, let alone you, and you fought to keep from squirming under his gaze. 

I guess it's now or never…

"Yes." You breathed softly, then before anyone had time to respond, you added quickly. "Your turn!" Jin's eyes widened in surprise at the turn of events, but you didn't give him any time to question it. "Will you ever admit your feelings for me?" 

The silence in the room stretched on, the air becoming even more tense now that Jin's question had been thrown back in his face. You sucked in a breath that didn't have nearly enough air in it as you waited for his answer, your eyes locked on each other with no indication of either party giving up. But after several torturous moments of silence, Jin's chest deflated, and his quiet murmur of "Yes" filled all of your senses like the oxygen you had been momentarily deprived of. 

"Well, I think it's time for us to wrap up here. Licht, Yves." Leon clapped his hands and ushered his brothers out of the room, throwing Jin another pointed look before closing the door behind himself. You never took your eyes off of him, not while Leon, Yves, and Licht had gotten up, and not when they left. You were too afraid that the mirage in front of you would disappear and you'd wake up in your cold bed after another beautiful dream. You also couldn't be too sure that what Jin was saying was what you wanted him to be saying, so you waited, anxious and yearning all at one time, for him to explain. 

"You know how I feel about falling in love…" Jin murmured quietly and your heart dropped. 

"Yes." You whispered, breaking eye contact in favor of staring at your feet. It already hurt. Your poor heart already hurt. 

"My simple plan to not fall in love, especially not with a commoner, has worked well for me for a really long time." He explained, and you nodded, still not looking at him. "It's always been easier to spend a night of fun with a woman and see her off the next morning with a satisfied smile on her face." Despite the fact that you knew this already, your gut twisted into jealous knots and tears sprang to your eyes. You blinked them away as best you could. Jin heaved a large sigh and rubbed his palm over his eyes. "But this plan sort of fell apart when I met you, see." 

For the first time since you both were alone, your eyes snapped up to his face. He was smiling sort of sadly, emotions dancing across his face in a distorted line as he measured his next words. "You're understanding, caring, sweet, fun, funny… you're incredible. I wanted to protect you from somebody like me, but I went and fell for you like the selfish ass I am." He buried his face in his hands and shook his head, and before you could stop yourself, you were standing up and taking the few steps that would erase all space between you.

You cupped your hands over his and lifted his face to meet his eyes. "I don't want protection from you, Jin. I want you." You whispered, thumbing his cheeks gently as he stared up at you. It happened quickly after that. His arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you into his lap, your legs straddling his muscular body, and leaned up to press his lips to yours, urgently deepening the kiss like he had been starving for you for ages and now that he had tasted you, would never be letting you go again. Your fingers twisted into his short chestnut locks and tugged as you moaned softly into his mouth, savoring him just as much. He pressed the tip of his tongue to your lips, seeking entrance, and you parted them willingly, allowing the newfound heat to overtake you. He grunted and squeezed your bottom with his large hands; only then did you realize you had been grinding onto his lap in your frenzy. 

You pulled away to catch your breath, pleased to find Jin as breathless as you. Stroking his hair, you bumped his nose with your own. "You know what my next question is, don't you, Jin?" You murmured teasingly onto his lips, and he smirked in response, his grip tightening on your ass.  "Yes." He purred, lifting you up in his arms as he stood. You yelped, then laughed, wrapping your legs around his middle and your arms firmly around his shoulders as he carried you out of the drawing room and back towards his own. "Good thing I like carrying you, sweetheart. Cause you won't be walkin' anywhere for awhile after tonight."

~

Tags for the Lovelies: @aquagirl1978 @rhodolitesroseforclavis @ikehoe @queengiuliettafirstlady @maries-gallery @nightghoul381 @judejazza @xbalayage @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @alvieeru @aria-chikage @tele86

[arlana-likes-to-write]

Second Chance - Chapter 8

Masterlist

Warnings: fainting, affects of chemotherapy treatment, lack of appetite, IV treatment

Note: a lot of this chapter is based on my own personal experience with the disease. As I've learned chemotherapy effects everyone very differently. Also sorry this chapter is so short.

Word Count: 1.9k

Relationships: Yelena x reader, Tony x reader (platonic), Avenger x reader (platonic)

There was something about jello that never sat right with you. You witnessed your friends take shot after shot of the mixture, and it made your insides turn. Even your mom would eat it when she wasn’t feeling well. Your nose would scrunch when you saw her over the stove, waiting for the water to boil. It always had to be homemade, never the store-bought stuff. The irony of it all as you sat on the common floor of the tower eating jello. Your mom would have gotten a kick out of it. It was store-bought; you barely had enough energy to drag yourself out of your room. The visit with America and Kate made you realize you missed people, which was strange.

After a double dosage, you would lock yourself in your room, surviving on snacks you could keep down. You would emerge from your room and order takeout when the symptoms passed. It was odd having a group of people to ensure you were okay. “Hey kid,” you gave a weak smile to Steve. “How’s the jello?” You shrugged.

“It’s gross, but at least I’m eating.” Sam stood next to you, arms leaning against the counter.

“We are going to watch a movie,” he said. “Do you want to join us?” You finished the last spoonful of jello, and Steve took the trash from you. You gave the man a grateful smile.

“Sure, it’s not like I can do much in this state,” you followed them to the couch and sat on the other side of Steve. He was warm; you were getting jealous of the Avenger’s ability to always be warm. “What are we watching?” You asked, resting your elbow on the armrest.

“I’m thinking Do The Right Thing by Spike Lee,” you knew the movie. You took a film studies class in college. Well, you passed it without watching any of the movies. You were a little stretched thin, and watching a 2-hour movie was not something you had time for. With your schedule open, movies became a source of comfort for you. You wished you set more time for them, more time for other things as well.

Sighing, you let your body relax on the couch and let your mind wander into the world Spike Lee created.

*

“I’m impressed she still hasn’t woken up yet,” Maria said, nursing a tall glass of water. She, Yelena, and Natasha returned from a run to find the common floor bustling with people, making lunch or grabbing a quick bite before heading off. Somehow, you remained unbothered by all the noise. You were fast asleep on the couch with a blanket tucked around you. Steve told them you made it halfway through the movie before you fell asleep.

“Do you think we should wake her up?” Natasha asked. “She needs to eat.” Yelena nodded. Tony told them about his conversation with your doctor. The blonde hated doctors too many times; she was forced down by doctors who said they would help. She had to trust your medical team knew what was best for you. So if they told you you needed to eat or an IV of fluids and steroids would help, Yelena believed that.

“I’ll do it,” Yelena said, walking over to the couch and ignoring the questioning look on her sister’s face. She was not ready for that conversation that she knew Natasha was dying to have. Yelena needed time to figure it all out. Kneeling at your level, she gently placed her hand on your shoulder. “Easton,” she said softly, barely recognizing the sound of her voice. “Come on, time to wake up.” This time, you opened your eyes, blinking them a few times.

“Belova,” you sighed. Yelena hated how you said her name; it made her heart skip. “Do what do I owe the pleasure.” The blonde rolled her eyes.

“You need food,” she said, standing up. “So up you get.” Yelena held out her hand. Sighing, you sat up and took the hand she offered. Fuck, why were you so cold? You pulled yourself up with Yelena’s help. Even when you were standing up, the blonde refused to let you go of your hand. Your hand was trembling, and you were swaying.

“What-” but you cut yourself off. You let out a shaky breath, and your eyebrows pinched together as if you were confused by something someone said, but no one spoke.

“Easton, what’s wrong?” You opened your mouth a few times before your eyes fluttered closed, and you fell forward. Yelena caught you in your arms, gently brought you to the ground, and looked at her sister. Natasha was already rushing over to her. “I don’t know what happened,” Yelena said, her voice laced with panic. “She just collapsed.”

“It’s okay,” Natasha calmly said, and she checked your pulse. “FRIDAY, alert Helen and tell Tony to get to med bay,” the redhead looked at her sister. “Can you help me get here?” The blonde nodded. Yeah, she could do that. She just needed her hands to stop shaking.

*

When you opened your eyes, you were in a room you didn’t recognize. Frowning, you turned your head to the side and saw Tony. The sound of you shuffling caused him to look away from the tablet he was looking over. “Hey, how are you feeling?” He asked. You sat up in the unfamiliar bed and saw an IV in your arm. You were connected to a clear bag that they gave you at the cancer center.

“Where am I?” You asked instead of answering your question.

“You’re in med bay,” he told you. “You fainted when you stood up.” Oh, you rubbed your forehead. “Dr. Carpenter said it’s probably due to your dehydration and lack of food intake. He suggested the TV; it’s fluids and a small amount of steroids,” he explained. You frowned slightly, hating the idea that Dr. Carpenter knew you weren’t doing well. You hated worrying him. He already felt so much guilt regarding your mom’s death, and he felt like he failed you and her. “So, how are you?” You hated that question. Every doctor and nurse asked you about it. You avoided text messages from your friends who asked you.

“I’m fine, Tony,” you said.

“No, you’re not,” he called you out. “And it’s fine that you aren’t,” he added quickly. “But I need you to tell me so I can help.” Help is something you never needed. You excelled in school, and even at a young age, you could take care of yourself. You helped others with school work, personal problems, or if they needed help moving. You were the helper, never the one that needed help. It was why it took forever for Dr. Carpenter to convince you to reach out to Tony.

“I don’t need your help.” You regretted the words as soon as they left your mouth. The man laughed bitterly.

“Then why come to the tower, turn my life upside down, and tell me you need mine or my kid’s bone marrow,” you were quiet. “It sure looks like you need my help.” You were silent, unable to find the words to improve this situation. “Lucas was right; your stubbornness is going to be the death of you. I will not stand by and watch it happen.” He left suddenly, and the room you were in was quiet. Sighing, you slapped your hand down on the bed. You were so stupid; sometimes, you spoke without thinking of the consequences.

Death. It wasn’t something you feared. It was a concept that your mom always introduced you to, especially with the nature of her job. So how the hell were you supposed to look at the man and tell him you weren’t afraid of dying?

*

Once the bag was empty and Helen knew you could stand alone, she released you from med bay. However, she gave you strict orders to come back if you began to feel worse. You agreed, only to please her. You knew you should find Tony and apologize for what you said. But you got your stubbornness from your mom. Instead, you went to our room, grabbed your sketchbook, and walked to the training area where FRIDAY informed you the rest of the team was.

Your presence went unnoticed by the team as they were engrossed in their training. You found a spot out of the way and began drawing the scene before you. Watching the Avengers train and be in their natural element was exciting. You enjoyed drawing them and coming up with stories to tell. You found the superhero group fascinating. They were brought together because they were deemed to be extraordinary. This group was tasked to save the world and protect people they did not know who needed help. It was noble work.

You sighed, twirling the pencil you were using in your hand. They were trying to help you. You are a complete stranger that came into their life and turned it on their head. You were curious if you were going to be around long enough to thank them.

Glancing up from your sketchbook, their training session ended, and the Avengers were split into smaller groups. You noticed Kate looking at you, and she gave you a small wave. She was standing with America, Peter, Kate, and the blonde Black Widow. You weren’t sure what they were talking about, but you saw Kate, America, and Peter start to walk over to you. The blonde hesitated as she looked at you but joined her sister and Bucky instead. You frowned slightly. “Hey,” Kate said, sitting next to you and you smiled. “You look a lot better than the last time we saw you.” You chuckled, closed the sketchbook, and placed it on your lap.

“Sorry about,” you hated worrying people.

“Just glad to see up and walking around.” America smiled. “What did they say that caused it?” You sighed, picking at the cover of the book.

“Doctor thinks it’s because I’m not eating or drinking enough. But I’m trying.” You felt the need to defend yourself. “It’s just-”

“Hard?” Peter guessed. You nodded. “Listen, I think you are doing great. Far better than I would be doing.” The couple nodded in agreement. You smiled.

“So, what are you guys training for? Do you have a mission coming up?” The trio looked at one another. “Can you not tell me?”

“Unsure, really,” America said. “A lot of the stuff we do is ‘need to know,’” she added the quotes around the words. “But you live in the tower but aren’t an Avenger.” You raised your hands.

“Then don’t tell me,” you chuckled. “All I care about is that you guys return safe,” Kate smirked. You weren’t sure why it felt like you walked into a trap.

“Especially a certain blonde.” Your face dropped, and you felt your stomach drop.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” you mumbled. The trio laughed, which got the attention of the blonde. You refused to look at her as you felt your body head up from embarrassment.

“Miss. Easton,” the AI said. The sudden voice of the AI made their laughter die down. “Mr. Stark and Mrs. Potts wish to speak with you on their floor.” You groaned.

“Is everything okay?” Peter asked. You shrugged.

“Not sure,” you sighed and stood up. “But I may need backup.” Kate chuckled, shaking her head.

“Well, let FRIDAY know, and we’ll be there.” You nodded and walked out of the training area, sketchbook tucked underneath your arm. When your mom discovered you had a drawing talent, she worried that sometimes you would get lost in the worlds you created. But the worlds you made were more manageable than the one you lived in.

_

Taglist: @likemick, @averagetmblrusser, @wandaromamoff69, @simpforyelenabelova, @cd-4848,