#i'm struggling so hard drawing all the frames

[obsessedwrhys]

MAGNETIC LOVE

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ Raiden develops a crush on the waitress who works at Madam Bo's (fluff, Raiden being hopelessly in love, Kung Lao is the wingman??, I know this trope has been used a lot but this is my take on it, reader is fem!!)

ᯓ★

Being Earthrealm's champion can be exhausting sometimes, so he figured, what's better than to take a break at one of the places that reminds him when times were simpler.

However, the problem was that he didn't expect to end up spending half of his time at the restaurant staring at the waitress Madam Bo had hired just recently. He was staring so much that he lost track of time.

In defense, how could he not?

Your smile was intoxicating and your eyes were mesmerising.

The way you worked fast yet elegantly.

And how he would catch a whiff of your perfume when you walked past his table.

Everything about you was drawing him in and he hasn't even asked for your name yet nor did you even know anything about him.

Just as he spends another of his free days at the restaurant, technically just there to watch you work, he suddenly felt a hand pat him on the shoulder. He looked over his shoulder to see it was Kung Lao.

"So this is where you go to when you're not busy" He said as he took the chair beside him.

"How'd you know I was here?"

"It's not hard to track you down when you know so little places" He said, relaxing in his chair until he notises the plate of food on the table.

It was untouched and already growing cold. This peaked interest in him since he never does this. To be honest, who could say no to Madam Bo's food?

"Do you just come here everyday to waste food? What a customer you are" Kung Lao jokes and Raiden struggles to find the right words to say, but the second you stepped in frame, his eyes darted towards you which Kung Lao easily followed suit.

It didn't take long for him to understood what was happening.

"Oooohhh... I get it now. You have a crush on the waitress working here, huh?" He nudges him with a teasing smirk.

"Is it that obvious?" Raiden asks.

"Uh... yeah. Judging by how you looked at her just now, I'm pretty sure everybody knows" Kung Lao pointed out how his face seemed to light up the moment he looked at you.

Hearing him say that, Raiden couldn't help but steal a glimpse of you wiping a nearby table clean after disposing all the dirty plates into the sink. The way the strands of your hair fell from behind your ear and you quickly tucking it back in place made him swoon even more.

"You're doing it again...! Have you not said a thing to her? Not even a hello?" Kung Lao grabbed him by the shoulders to force him to focus on him.

Raiden simply shakes his head at his question.

"I've thought about it but I'm not sure if I want to disrupt her working hours"

"Well she doesn't work ALL the time. You can just wait for her to finish her shift. Wow, are you that in love that your brain stopped working?" Kung Lao said, poking him by the shoulder playfully.

"It's not as easy as it seems"

"That's just you" Just then, Kung Lao got up from the chair causing it to screech a bit against the wooden floor.

"Welp, I better get going. Unlike you, I managed to score myself a date with someone. Good luck" He said with a strong pat on the shoulder before leaving.

He had to admit, he could feel his heart beating loudly in his chest just considering the suggestion. As far as he knows, he's good at starting up a conversation with anyone, it's just he'll be doing it to you and the thought alone makes him nervous.

What if this wasn't the first time a customer tried to get with you? Considering how attractive he found you to be, you must have dealt with this situation a lot. So that means you've rejected a lot of people or...

Maybe you were already dating someone??

He gulps at the thought and tried to brush off the feeling by drinking his tea. Well he doesn't see a ring so you can't be married. No matching jewelleries or anything. So you can't be taken yet right?

All this overthinking was doing anything but help him. Maybe he'll just ask you... riggght after he's done boosting himself up.

By the time the sun was setting and that the sky has gone pinkish orange, you grabbed your bags from the locker after changing back into your casual clothes.

It was already an exhausting day, it's a relief you didn't have to deal with any rude customers.

Just as you left the restaurant, you were suddenly approached by a man. A customer actually. You recognised him easily since he always ordered the same thing.

"Hi" He greeted you with a smile and you couldn't help but smile back.

"Hello"

For an awkward moment, you two were just smiling at each other until he finally realised he was supposed to say something next.

"I'm Raiden"

"(Y/N)"

Another awkward silence drops upon you. You're starting to feel like he's not good at starting conversations.

"Did you want to talk to me about something?" You asked and he had to blink a couple of times to snap out of his head.

"Well uh... I just wanted to get to know you..."

"Oh?" You were surprised at his answer and he couldn't help but wonder if it was a good surprise or a bad surprise.

"I hope I don't come off as a creep"

"Ehh... well... to be fair you've been staring at me as I worked these days" You said as you awkwardly avoided his gaze and he swore he almost choked when he heard you.

So you knew all this time and you never did anything about it? Now it just makes him feel even more of a creep.

"But I asked and Madam Bo told me a lot about you, she says you're a good person and that you're very kind" You smiled at him and it eased his nerves a bit.

"What else did she say?"

"She also told me to make you stop coming to the restaurant because of how she's fed up with you not eating your food when it's hot but only when it's cold. She says its a disgrace to her cooking" You said and it made him chuckle softly.

"She said that?"

You nodded.

"Will I be blacklisted?" He asks and you pretended to reconsider the consequences but it also seemed like you were playing around with him.

"I guess you won't be... if you ask me out for dinner" You said and he felt his heart flutter for a second.

"Well then... do you happen to be free now?" He asks which had you grinning.

"Mm... I don't have plans tonight but it depends on where you're taking me"

"I know a good restaurant around the block. It'll be my treat, what do you say?" He said, his behaviour seeming to appear more layback and confident.

"How can I say no to free food?" You chuckled and it just made the smile on his face grew wider.

Days later, you would find yourself frequently taken on dates after your shift. Sometimes they were fun and sometimes they were romantic. Either way, it was perfect. You didn't think you'd fallen for the guy but you did. He was really everything Madam Bo said, except for the fact that he short circuits whenever he's flustered, which you easily found adorable.

All this effort and you two haven't even made it official yet.

On another working day, you stood by the desk as you accept the customers payment. Once you were done, you saw a couple more customers enter but one of them caught your eye immediately. You grabbed your pen and notebook to take their orders. As you approached their table, his eyes were focused on you straight away.

"Welcome to Madam Bo's, what would you like to eat?" You asked, trying to stay professional.

"I have to admit Raiden, this place is great!" His friend with the glasses spoke.

"You're just saying that because he promised you money if you agreed to come" The man with a blindfold (?) said .

"We'll just have the usual" Raiden said to you as the two went on bickering. You nodded and shoot him a playful smirk before delivering his order to the kitchen.

By the time their food was done and after you served it to them. You just went on doing your work but you couldn't help and turn your head every now and then to see him eating or chatting with his friends. Honestly you found it ironic how the tables have been turned. Now you were the creep watching him do his thing.

The second the sun setted, you grabbed your stuff and left the restaurant once you were finished with helping Madam Bo close it. However as you waited at the door for Raiden to pick you up for one of your dates, you didn't see him anywhere. Was he too busy with his friends that he forgot?

Feeling a bit disappointed but trying not to let it ruin your mood, you decided to head home. Though it took you only a few steps until you heard someone call out to you. With a knowing smile on your face, you turned to the other way to see Raiden running towards you, a hand hidden behind him as he was obviously holding a bouquet.

"Is that for me?" You nodded at the flowers and he seemed embarrassed that his surprise was already blown.

"Yeah... I had to run to the other side of town because the shop I usually buy from was out of stock" He handed it to you and you could see a clear view of the variety of flowers.

"Romantic" You smiled as you took it from him.

"I'm glad you like them... but I need to ask you something..." He said, his body language shifting from tired to serious. You look up at him with intrigue.

"I hope these past few days have been great for you but all these moments we've shared. I can't help but wonder if you feel like there's more to it" He said, his eyes never cutting contact with yours. You blush.

"Are you asking me if we're exclusive?" You said and your forwardness made his heart beat faster.

"Yes"

"Do you want it to be?"

"More than anything" His answer delivered without hesitation.

You stare at him... your lips soon forming a genuine smile.

"Then there's no point in denying it... we're official" You said. For a second he seemed to be frozen in time but you noticed how his eyes also sparkled with joy.

"Oh um... well... that was easier than I thought... does that mean you're still up for dinner?" He asks, trying to calm himself from how happy he was, he could feel his cheeks starting to hurt from smiling so much.

"Yes, but this time, I'll pay for us. My treat" You pat him on the chest before walking off and he could only chuckle as he quickly catches up to you.

You were definitely something...

[i-eat-deodorant]

panel from an animatic i'm working on. kind of obsessed with how pathetic he looks here so i'm posting it separately as a gif.

[inou-ie]

Pairing: Alpha Arlecchino x Omega female reader

Warnings: NSFW, omegaverse, Arlecchino in rut, breeding, crying, hair grabbing/pulling, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, squirting.

MDNI

As you successfully sneak into Arlecchino's room, a chuckle escapes you. You're surprised by how easily you fooled her 'servants'. Their warnings about the danger of being near your own lover felt absurd as you approached Arlecchino's bed, thinking about it.

However, your smile fades upon seeing Arlecchino huddled up, clutching her chest while gripping onto your shirt, which she probably took before secluding herself. Her irregular breathing indicates her struggle, enduring it all alone.

Despite her vulnerability, you found yourself weakened by the overwhelming intensity of her scent permeating the room, causing your head to spin and your heart to race faster than usual.

You walked closer, taking a better look at her. Seeing your lover suffering like this, you couldn't help but feel a tinge of pain in your chest. You sighed and moved to take a seat in the corner of the bed, attempting to touch her cheek. However, you were caught off guard when Arlecchino quickly grasped your wrist.

"My love..." she breathed out before quickly drawing you into her embrace. Arlecchino's arms wrapped around you protectively, yet possessively. You could feel the heat emanating from her body, her scent enveloping your mind and body.

A small groan slipped from your lips as she tightened her hold around you, suddenly pushing you onto the bed and laying on top of you while maintaining a tight hug. You found yourself trapped between her large frame and the soft mattress.

She didn't speak but continued to embrace you, gradually tightening her hold. After a moment, Arlecchino lifted her head, her eyes filled with desperation and hunger as she gazed at you. Leaning closer, her breath teased your lips. You sighed softly, reaching out to caress her cheek in an attempt to alleviate her pain.

"It'll be alright, I'm here to help..." you said softly and slowly, wanting to ensure she understood your intentions, aware that your lover wasn't entirely herself at the moment.

In response to your words, Arlecchino held the hand that was caressing her cheek, kissing your palm, then tracing her way up to your arms and shoulders until she reached your neck, where you could feel her inhaling your scent.

Silence enveloped the room, interrupted only by the sound of her breathing. She buried her face into the crook of your neck, pressing her body tightly against yours and eliciting a soft sound from you.

Noticing something hard and... big pressing against your stomach made you gulp nervously. Just by the feeling of it through clothes, you got the idea that it's much larger today.

You can't help but let out a moan as Arlecchino started moving her body, holding you close. Her hips swayed sensually as she ground her crotch into yours and you can feel the hardness of her erection through her pants, making you aroused as well.

As Arlecchino continued to move, her breath becomes ragged as she pushed herself even harder against you.

You sighed softly when she finally leaned back but your eyes immediately widened as you watched Arlecchino unzip and open her pants, revealing a massive erection that was leaking precum profusely, looking like it had been aroused for quite some time already.

"Oh fuck..." You breathed out softly, unable to tear your gaze away from the impressive sight of Arlecchino's throbbing member. The amount of precum dripping steadily down her shaft was enough to make you so, so wet in between your legs.

Arlecchino took hold of her throbbing cock, groaning softly as she started stroking herself while looking straight into your eyes. You couldn't help but feel the heat between your legs intensify with every stroke and lick your lips unconsciously at the sight before you.

Just as you were about to sit up, unable to control the urge to suck her off, she quickly pushed you back onto the bed and began removing your clothes with an urgency, almost ripping them apart.

When you were finally stripped down to nothing, Arlecchino pushed your legs apart forcefully. Her gaze never left the glistening wetness between your thighs as she positioned herself closer still.

With shaking hands, she lifted her cock towards your quivering entrance and began rubbing it against your clit. The contact sent shockwaves of pleasure through every inch of your being, causing involuntary gasps and moans to escape from your lips.

Your breath came out in ragged gasps as Arlecchino continued to tease your clit with the tip of her cock, the sensation was almost too much for you to bear – it felt like an eternity had passed before she finally stopped, leaving you trembling and on the brink of orgasm. "Beautiful..." She growled, moving back slightly so that she could see your face contort with pleasure.

Her hips swayed dangerously close to yours again as she began rubbing herself against your entrance once more - this time harder than ever before. With every thrust forward, Arlecchino's erection pressed against your opening, threatening to force its way inside at any moment.

You arched your back off the bed instinctively, needing more contact. Arlecchino paused for a moment, her chest heaving as she tried to regain control of herself until her gaze shifted downward towards your quivering pussy, now slick with your combined precum. A soft sound escaped from between her parted lips, "I... can't be gentle with you, my love..." she managed to whisper hoarsely.

With that, Arlecchino positioned her hips perfectly against yours and pushed forward – the swollen head of her cock slipped easily inside you, eliciting a gasp from both of you. She held onto your hips tightly as if afraid that any sudden movement would cause your bodies to lose contact entirely. With each thrust forward, more of Arlecchino's throbbing member slid into your tight walls.

The moment Arlecchino's cock was fully buried within you, a strangled cry escaped your lips. She really was bigger than usual and it felt like she was stretching you to the limit. Your breath hitched in your throat as you clung onto Arlecchino's hands, feeling her massive erection bulging against your stomach. "Don't move yet..." You choked out, trying desperately to adjust and calm down after being taken by something so big.

Arlecchino growled in response, her grip on your hips tightening even more. She pulled back slightly before pushing forward again – this time hitting something deep inside you with enough force to make your eyes almost roll back into your head.

"I said, don't— ah...!" You can't help but throw your head back when Arlecchino pushed even deeper, hitting something within you, eliciting a mixture of pain and pleasure that caused you to squirm beneath her. The sensation was so intense that you couldn't help but moan out loud, your nails digging into the flesh of her arms as you held onto them for dear life.

Arlecchino began thrusting in and out of you, her hips moving with a hypnotic rhythm that left you breathless. Each time she pulled back until only the head of her cock remained inside you before pushing it all the way in again – harder this time around.

Your moans and whimpers echoed through the room alongside Arlecchino's groans and grunts. You could feel every inch of her throbbing member slide in and out of your walls, leaving no part untouched or ignored. The sensation was so intense that it felt almost painful yet exquisitely pleasurable at the same time.

Just when you thought things couldn't get any worse (or better), Arlecchino suddenly lifted your hips up off the bed and started pounding into you faster and harder. Every thrust sent waves upon waves of pleasure coursing through your body while making wet squelching sounds come from deep within your pussy each time she plunged forward into you.

You dug your nails deeper into Arlecchino's arms, but she didn't seem to mind. In fact, it seemed as if she was pushing herself even harder with every thrust inside of you. The bed creaked and shook loudly in time with her movements, the sound echoing throughout the room.

Your tears flowed continuously; this was unlike anything you had ever experienced before. You couldn't believe how rough Arlecchino was being right now - yet at the same time, there was something about her brutality that felt incredibly arousing. She kept hitting something deep inside you perfectly each time she plunged forward.

Your hips slapped against each other so hard that it almost hurt – but somehow, it only served to intensify the experience further for both of you.

As Arlecchino's movements grew faster and more erratic, you could feel her cock swell inside of you. You knew she was about to cum so you wrapped your legs around her waist tightly, pushing yourself even deeper onto her throbbing member in an attempt to get as much of it inside you as possible.

Arlecchino let out a loud grunt before holding you close to her chest in a tight embrace. The pleasure was intense; so much so that you almost blacked out from it. Arlecchino's powerful thrusts continued as she pumped her seed deep into your womb, filling every crevice and cranny with the hot liquid. Your insides throbbed in ecstasy around each pulsing wave of cum that invaded them.

Arlecchino's thrusts grew harsher, pushing further into your already stretched out hole. Every time she pushed forward, another jet of thick fluid poured from her cock, making its way deep inside you.

As she continued to cum uncontrollably, Arlecchino's pace doesn't slow down even for a moment. She pumps her hips harder and faster into your hole, grunting loudly with every powerful thrust. Her cock is so deep inside you now that it hits against your cervix with each vicious jab, causing waves of pleasure to shoot through your entire body.

You can feel the heat building up within yourself as more and more of Arlecchino's seed fills you up. It feels like there's no room left in your womb - but somehow she keeps filling it regardless.

Despite being filled beyond capacity, another intense orgasm washes over you yet again. Your walls clamp down tight around Arlecchino's shaft one last time before releasing their grip completely, sending a torrent of thick liquid shooting out of your hole in long, viscous streams.

Your body shuddered, and it felt like you couldn't move at all. Your mind had been reduced to mush, and your body was like jelly. Arlecchino sighed deeply before holding your thighs apart. Your pussy was covered in her cum, which continued leaking more with each passing moment.

Just as you thought she was done, Arlecchino pulled out slowly, leaving your pussy gaping and leaking. She then flipped you over onto your stomach, lifting your hips up into the air. Her thick cock aligned itself perfectly with your entrance once again.

"...again...?" You whimpered, already feeling full to bursting point from her previous onslaught. But Arlecchino didn't seem interested in listening or understanding with her current state; instead, she pushed herself back inside of you with force that made you bite and grip the sheets tightly.

Her hold on your hips was bruising, and you kept struggling to keep yourself still despite the forceful penetration. Every time she pushed into you, it made a sickening squelching sound as her cum continued seeping out of you with every movement.

"My love... my love..." She repeated her words over and over again until your body began to escape the intense pleasure by crawling forward in an attempt to get away from Arlecchino's relentless assault.

She reacted quickly, grabbing fistfuls of your hair to pull you back closer to her. With one powerful thrust, she drove herself completely inside of you, filling every corner of your being with unbearable bliss.

She fucked you hard from behind, her grip on your hair tightened as she kept pulling you closer to her with each powerful thrust. You tried to speak, but all that emerged were whimpers of pleasure and a hint of pain.

As she relentlessly targeted a spot deep within you, your body tensed uncontrollably while waves upon waves of intense sensation coursed through every fiber of your being until you squirted all over the mattress beneath—and yet still, Arlecchino pushed forward without hesitation or mercy. Your legs shook unsteadily as cum oozed out of you in thick, steady streams.

Everything went black for a moment, and you felt like you were being pulled back into reality by the tug of your hair. You couldn't help but surrender to the sensation as she continued pounding into you with such force that it felt like your body was losing its strength.

Pools of cum formed all over the sheets, and you couldn't even remember how many times you had squirted or how many times Arlecchino had filled you up. Both of you were breathing heavily when she finally released her grip on your hair and body, causing you to collapse forward onto the bed in a state of utter exhaustion. Arlecchino groaned loudly before leaning down to embrace your spent form tightly.

And then suddenly, a long and loud cry escaped your lips as Arlecchino pushed against you with unyielding force—her weight crushing you into the mattress beneath. This time though, she wasn't pulling back; instead, she only kept pushing deeper inside of you. The head of her cock pressed against your cervix, feeling like an attempt to crush the womb that was already bursting at its seams with her cum.

You gasped for breath as pleasure and pain blurred together into one overwhelming sensation. Arlecchino held onto you tightly, her grip biting into your skin as she fought to keep from losing control entirely.

You kept sobbing loudly as she kept you there for what felt like an eternity, buried deep inside of you. Arlecchino's soft grunts and groans filled your ears, a low growl that seemed to come from somewhere deep within her being. Her arms wrapped around you in a possessive embrace, determined to keep you plugged up tightly, desperate not to lose even a single drop of the precious cum filling your womb.

Until finally, relief came in the form of her slowly pulling out of you. Your body protested at the loss of contact with such force that it took everything you had not to cry out. A hot stream of her cum followed where she had been, painting the insides of your thighs white before trickling down the sheets. You collapsed back onto the bed, too exhausted even to move.

Just before you completely lost consciousness, you felt Arlecchino lifting you up gently and placing you on top of her. She tenderly stroked your hair, attempting to ease your pain, all the while expressing apologies and gratitude simultaneously.

From the sound of her voice, it seemed like she had calmed down from her rut for now. You sighed deeply, snuggling closer to her chest, seeking more comfort, which she readily provided. Showering your head and face with kisses, which elicited a weak smile from you. The last thing you heard was her whispering lovingly.

"You did well, my love..."

[touyasdoll]

After Class

pairing: professor!Gojo x student!reader (fem)

word count: 1.8k

warnings: inappropriate power dynamics, professor kink, power play, cum eating, oral (f!receiving), reader is wearing a thong and a skirt, semi public sex, rough sex, let me know if I missed any

notes: turns out I can still write smut, I think. hope you enjoy <3

"My next class is in 20 minutes, gorgeous," Satoru coos in your ear, grinding the tent in his slacks against your thinly clad pussy, only concealed by the fabric of your cotton thong beneath your skirt.

"You should hurry up and fuck me then already. I don't wanna keep you, professor," you purr, glancing back at him over your shoulder as you drop your hips back.

A moan leaves your lungs as you grind on his length just right, sending a shiver along your spine as your soaked cunt clenches around nothing.

He does love to tease, but he doesn't have the luxury of time today and he knows it. He's also so hard that it's beginning to hurt and the noises coming from you only make it worse.

"I want to keep you though," he whispers smoothly as he drapes himself across your back, lowering himself on his long arms to brush his lips against the shell of your ear.

He nips at it, reaching down to free himself from his pants before he flips your skirt up and hooks a finger into the thin strip of cotton separating him from what he's after.

Should he be fucking a student? No.

Does he care when his cock is buried inside you though? Also no.

"M'all yours for the next 19 minutes, baby. Make 'em count," you say as you reach over to grab onto the edge of the desk as you shake your ass.

"You're gonna be mine for a lot longer, princess," he replies as he glides the head of his dick against your folds, letting your juices soak the tip before he slowly sinks inside of you.

A groan pulls from him as your breathless gasp echoes back at your from the surface of the large wooden desk. He's so big it's mind numbing. Even when he takes his time.

"Fuck, Satoru," you breathe his name out, whimpering when he starts to move.

He slowly draws his hips back, the motion occuring in time with the handsome smirk spreading across his face, which only portrays a fraction of the insanity this man is able to convey.

"I'd love to hear you say my name when I'm not inside you. It sounds so good on your tongue," he says as he stands tall and grabs your hips, rolling his own at a steady pace.

"It'd probably make me hard anyway," he continues as he suddenly picks up the tempo, gripping your hips hard enough to threaten to leave bruises in the wake of his long fingers as his thrusts start to jostle your entire frame.

You cry out, wholly overwhelmed by the sensations flooding your entire body. It's easy to forget just how good it feels when you're with him until you find yourself here again, drowning in him while his cock drowns in you.

You grip the edge of the desk tighter, clinging to it as the two of you both struggle not to grow too loud for fear of alerting someone passing by in the hall to your illicit activities.

"Holy shit, you feel so fucking good, baby," he growls through grit teeth, colliding with you at an almost unnatural pace as his cock grows impossibly harder inside of you. "So tight. S'like your pussy doesn't wanna let me go."

You wish you could respond, but you can't. Not with the way it feels like he's threatening to puncture your lungs with every unforgiving shift of his hips. It's all you can do to hang on while the pressure inside of you grows with each passing second.

You do respond with a cry, one of pure pleasure. Your nails press hard into the wood, clutching despertely like it's your only tether to this realm, because it is. The euphoria coursing through you, promising that it will overcome you, is so all encompassing that it nearly blinds you; it strikes you dumb.

He looks down, committing to memory the glorious sight of his cock plunging in and out of you, punishing your cunt. His and his only. You are his and, in this moment, you both know it, beyond a shadow of a doubt.

He puts his all into giving you what you want, what he knows that you need, driving himself into you with every ounce of strength that he has, spurred on by the need to claim you, even though he already has you right where he wants you. Pliant and accepting beneath him.

"Need you to cum for me, gorgeous. Can you do that?" he asks, his voice much more calm than his body feels as every inch of him grows taut, threatening to snap if pulled any tighter.

You nod, you think you do, at least. Everything is rendered inconsequential as something inside you explodes, making you see stars even when your eyes roll back inside of your head.

He wraps a hand around your mouth, presesing it tight over your face to muffle the feral scream that pours from you. You couldn't stop it if you tried, not if your life depended on it.

"That's it. That's fucking it, baby," he mutters a second before his own end comes to claim him, stealing all of the breath from his lungs and inspiring his body to move on it's own.

His hips cast into yours as his seed spills into your womb, filling you completely as you whine and readily accept it, pushing yourself up with what strength you have left in your body to thrust your hips back to meet his own, drawing out his pleasure as he draws out yours.

"Satoru," you breathe out, sighing in ecstasy and your body gives out, thumping onto the desk while his motions stutter and then still.

He drapes himself over you, kissing along the back of your neck to nip at your flesh, to have one last taste of you before he reluctantly parts his form from yours, slipping out of you and sending a sinful mixture of both of your essences dripping onto the floor.

"You are going to be the death of me," he murmurs into your ear, kising the side of your face.

"I could say the same," you sigh, eyes heavy and body seemingly lifeless as you try to will your legs to move, but it's useless with every neuron inside you still firing and him lazily draped across your back.

"At least we'll go together," he muses, his lips quirking into a smile as he nips your ear one last time, sending a shiver down your spine before he stands tall to tuck himself back into his pants.

You push yoursself up once you've recovered, tilting your head to one side as you look him over and hop up onto the desk.

"Eat it," you command cooly, looking him straight in his baby blue eyes that have reduced you to nothing time and time again.

"What?" He quirks a brow, looking you over.

"Eat your cum out of my cunt, Satoru," you demand again as you lay back on your elbows and part your legs, displaying the mixture of you and him trapped between your thighs, leaking out of you.

He looks down, eyes widening slightly before he flashes you that smirk that never fail to make your knees weak and sinks down to his own.

His hands come up to hold onto your thighs, fingers running aong your still sensitive skin as his breath fans your core before he dives in, ice blue eyes locked with yours.

You gasp, your hand flying into his snow white locks to tug gently as his eyes flutter and falls closed while he devours you. His tongue laps at your pussy, greedily tasting the concoction of your escapades.

"Fuck," he murmurs into you, sucking on your clit just to smirk when you whine.

He does as you bid him, tasting the salt of his own design and the sweetness of you, letting it bathe his tongue as he cleans you. Rids you of the evidence of the sin you both committed so willingly, but he doesn't stop.

He doesn't stop even as your fingers tighten in his hair, tugging harshly at the stark white tresses that have been turned wild by your touch. If anything, he laps more incessantly at your center, sending you careening off into an abyss that you haven't seen before. That you haven't had the intene pleasure of seeing until he brought you there and tosses you over that precipice.

You howl and he reaches up, clamping his hand down over your mouth as your hips grind desperately against his face. He groans against your folds before he wreches himself away to stand up and claim your mouth, as if he hadn't taken enough already.

You kiss him back, tasting yourself on his tongue as his slides against yours, exploring your mouth without shame, because that was left at the door when you two were together. There was no place for it.

The handle on the door jiggles, stirring both of you as your heads whip towards the door nearest the front of the room.

"Fuck," you hiss, trying to collect your senses as you push him off and stand up, adjusting your panties and your skirt.

"Fucking early birds," he mutters as he wipes his chin, staining the sleeve of his shirt with your juices.

You move to grab your bag and he follows you, his long legs allowing him to keep up even with your head start.

He catches your wrist and you find yourself bumping into his imposing frame. As lean as he looks, it's all muscle. All height, towering over you as he bends down, catching your jaw with his other hand as he kisses you again.

You get lost in it, the knocking on the door fades away as you savor his taste—your taste—again.

"I'll be seeing you, beautiful," he says softly, a dangerous glint in his eye as he gives your hand a squeeze and lets you go.

You flash him a smile and grab your things as you chew on your lip, making for the door towards the back as he heads for the one at the front.

With one last longing glance, the both of you turn the respective handles in your grasp and you slip out of the room, retreating into the hallway to carry on with your day, traces of him lingering on your skin. In your soul, where he now resides.

thank you for reading! likes, reblog, and comments are all greatly appreciated ❤️

[hanasnx]

hayden caressing your hipbone, telling you that you're doing so well for him and that you can give him "just one more" while he's giving you the pounding of your life (you've already came 3 times)

MINORS DNI 18+

"I can't— I can't!"

"You can," HAYDEN CHRISTENSEN insists, encouraging you with a gentle hand squeezing your hip. "I know you've got more in you, c'mon." He thumbs at your clit, nudging it around with his pad, all swollen from use.

"Baby, I can't, I'm all out." you whimper, drawing your hips away from his hand but he chases you, pinning you down firmly. His large frame is tucked between your legs, forearm sliding against the top of your thigh as he squeezes your hipbone.

"I don't believe that. You've been doing so good for me, let's try for one more." he tells you, voice low and soft. You peel your eyes open, following the line of his hand up his wrist to his expensive watch dotted with your dew drops of squirt. "You ready?" He doesn't wait for an answer, swiping that thumb across your clit more deliberately and you arch your back off the bed.

"Hayden! Please!" You don't know what you're begging for, whether it's relief of finishing or relief of stopping, regardless he decides for you. Sweetly, he curls his abdomen, sinking that extra inch into you as he keeps a steady pace on your bud. Puffy folds struggle to swallow his length rutting into it, your poor insides slick and raw at the same time taking a cock you've been driven to your limit by.

"Just one more. One more, sweet girl, that's all I ask." he whispers, an endearing expression of humble plea on the weathered lines of his face. You can't refuse him, breathing hard as you let it wash over you, originating from the tips of your toes in tremors up your spine, cream spurting out from around his cock plugging you up.

[somerandomdudelmao]

I just wanted to say how much I appreciate how you draw Eliptica. It's a little hard to describe, but I really like how she isn't really built... girlish? Like she is fabulous, but she doesn't have a large chest or a huge hourglass frame. She has muscles and wears them proudly. I have always struggled in my gender with disphoria and such, but seeing her be so beautiful without those "conventionally attractive" traits makes me really happy. So, thank you for making her design that way ❤️

Oh, I really love drawing her. I wanted to create a design that strayed away from traditional feminine beauty, but without taking away all of Ecliptica's feminine traits. She's huge and muscular and doesn't have boobs or a pretty face. But she has big thick hair, she has long skirt-like clothes, she likes cute things and pretty hairstyles. She's a huge flesh-eating monster but she's also a princess. I love her.

And I'm glad you like her, thank you:3

[m4tthewsgf]

Tell me where it hurts so I know where to love you the hardest

Matt Sturniolo x fem y/n

Based off of this request: could you do a matt hurt/comfort where the readers just struggling (like not showering, not getting out of bed, not eating, no motivation) and that’s really unlike her because she’s typically a very alive person, and it’s just really fluffy idk

Warnings: slight language ig just fluff

Author's Note: this is so short and bad I'm so sorry anon

---

I had it all. Or at least that's what people thought of me. Well, it wasn't far from the truth; I was surrounded by beautiful people, I bad great friends, an amazing boyfriend and family, a big house and a nice car. I truly did have it all and usually I wasn't one to complain because I truly felt blessed to have all of those things others wished for, but unfortunately they couldn't fill the emptiness I have been feeling recently in my heart.

If you asked my friends and family about me, they'd tell you that I was an outgoing person who seized every opportunity that landed in her hands. Gratefulness and hopefulness are two things that could easily characterise me. I was not usually one to turn down a nice party on a Saturday night or a trip to the movies with my friends, but if I'm being honest, the past few weeks have been really tough for me and all I wanted to do was just rot in my bed.

I couldn't really tell what is going on with me but my heart was just feeling heavy. There was this sadness inside me I simply couldn't get rid of no matter how hard I tried. And trust me, I had tried everything. Journaling, music, movies, meditating, drawing. None of these helped apart from sleep but even that had become a difficult task for a week.

My boyfriend, Matt, had taken notice in the shift of my mood and had been desperately trying to help me in any way he could think of. His trials obviously didn't go unappreciated by me, but I physically couldn't do it. He had been texting me for days on end, pleading me to allow him to take me out and get me out of the house but I rejected his offers every time. I felt bad. I could tell this was hurting him as well and hurting him was the last thing I wanted to do because Matt really was an angel sent from heaven. He gave me the liberty to breathe and I didn't want to lose him. Ever.

However, I couldn't let him see me like this. I hadn't showered and eaten in what felt an eternity and had slept for an hour or two in 4 days. I was a mess. An embarrassed mess, may I add. I had no reason to be sad. No reason to feel this empty when I had him.

I was supposed to be a lively person, someone joyful and jolly. Why the fuck was I like this?

“Baby?” I heard a familiar male voice from just outside my bedroom door. Matt. Shit.

“Y/n, I've called you 10 times what-“ he opened the door and saw me sitting in my bed with my back pressed against the bed frame, the only source of light coming from the TV on the wall in front of me. He took a deep breath at the sight of my obvious exhausted figure before closing the door and making his way up to me.

“Baby, what's wrong?” he asked as he sat down right next to me from the empty side of the bed. I didn’t look at him. I was too embarrassed to do so.

“Y/n” he said with a warning tone and placed his hand on my chin to turn my head towards him. My gaze was filled with guilt and I was on the verge of tears. He scanned my face for a minute or two without saying a word. The silence became unbearable, so I decided to speak with a breaking voice.

“Why did you come here?”

“Did you expect me to just sit in my house when you have been clearly not doing well for weeks and not answering my calls?” he spat, “I thought something happened to you, y/n!” his face was harsh and there was a hint of disappointment in it that was caused from my question.

“I am sorry,” a few teardrops fell from my eyes. He tilted his head and smiled softly at me. Matt let out a shaky breath before speaking again.

“No, don't. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that, I should be the one apologising,” he cupped my face and wiped away the wetness on my cheeks.

“You have every right to be mad, I haven't been the best girlfriend lately and I understand your frustration,” I voiced truthfully. I didn't lack self awareness. I knew that this whole situation wasn't only exhausting me but him as well.

“I won't lie to you, I am frustrated,” he placed a kiss on my forehead, “but only because I'd rather you communicate your feelings with me than leave me guessing. I just want to help, baby” I let out a deep breath that I didn't even know I had.

His face was so angelic. His blue eyes piercing through mine, his lips forming a sad grin and his cheekbones even more prominent. The warmth of his fingers that were caressing my skin traveled to my heart, lighting up a small fire in the beating organ that has been drenching in cold for days.

“I love you, you know that right?” he asked me as his gaze jumped from one of my eyes to another. I nodded my head but he needed my words.

“No, I want to hear you say it.”

“I know you love me, Matt” my voice broke once more, a sound that made Matt’s eyebrows furrow.

“Then why won't you talk to me? I only want to help you, dear, but I can't do that if you don't tell me what hurts” he reasoned. More tears threatened to leave my eyes as he spoke.

“Tell me where it hurts so I know where to love you the hardest, y/n. And don't tell me it's nothing, I can tell you haven't been sleeping or eating properly” Matt added and pointed at my figure. It was the truth; I had lost a couple pounds and my dark circles were more vivid than ever. My internal struggles took a toll on my physical wellbeing as well.

“I don't know what it is Matt I just-“ I began to cry.

“Oh my love, c’mere,” he wrapped his arms around me and I hid my face into the crook of his neck, “I'm right here baby, you're not alone. I got you, I promise I'm not going to let you go through this alone” he whispered against my hair as he stroked it gently. He rocked us back and forth while letting words of encouragement and reassurance fall from his lips until my sobbing ceased.

“I am so tired,” I mumbled against his skin, “my heart- it feels heavy and I don't know why I am just so sad Matt, I don't know what to do” I weeped, the amount of my tears creating a small paddle on his white shirt.

“It's okay baby, everything will be okay. I'll make it okay, hm?” he hummed while his hand started rubbing my back.

“I am sorry for not talking to you about it I was just scared you were going to leave me or be disappointed in me because I'm not supposed to feel this way and-“

“Hey,” he pulled away, “you are human. Humans have feelings, a smart girl like you should know that” he chuckled and booped my nose playfully with his finger, earning a giggle from me.

“You shouldn't feel obligated to feel any certain type of way. Sadness is okay. Anger is okay. Your feelings are okay and valid even if you don't know what caused them,” Matt grabbed my hand and interlocked our fingers, “I am not disappointed or angry at you for feeling, y/n. And most certainly, I'm not going to leave you because of it” the boy laughed at my silly, unreasonable worries.

“But I'm supposed to love life and be happy all the time and cheerful and-“

“No, love. You're not supposed to be anything,” he shook his head, “you're supposed to be you. And you is a person who experiences not only positive emotions but negative ones as well. And that's more than okay and you shouldn't feel the need to hide either of them, not from me at least” he whispered with a loving smile.

I just looked at him in awe. His words felt like daggers not because they were hurtful but because they were exactly what I needed to hear. His honeyed voice touching all of my broken pieces, his gentle touch stitching up my wounds and his tender grin making me regain a sense of my spark after a while. What would I do without him?

“I love you” I simply stated and placed my arms around his neck, my body collapsing harshly into his. I felt his own hands coming up to my waist and holding me against him tightly.

“I love you too, baby, but I need you to promise me you'll talk to me next time you feel like this. You got me so worried honey, you don't even understand.”

“I am sorry I didn’t mean to worry you,” I brought my face in front of his and smiled genuinely at him, “I promise I'll reach out next time.”

“Thank you for talking to me about it,” Matt said before placing his lips on mine, the kiss a mixture of love and worry.

“Now, you sit here like the pretty girl you are while I run us a warm bath. I will order us food and we can watch any movie you want, mkay?” he cooed after pulling away and pressing his forehead against mine.

“Even the notebook?” I beamed. He hated the notebook.

“Even the notebook” he chuckled and rolled his eyes at me, “and I'm not leaving. I'm staying for as long as you need, until I make sure you're actually okay” he reassured me. I smiled fondly at him and kissed him one more time.

Matt ended up staying with me for the rest of the week even though I felt better the next morning. His presence brought me so much comfort just like a teddy bear does to a little child. He made sure I ate well and took care of my hygiene. He even read me books to help me fall asleep on his chest, knowing that his voice was equivalent to the most beautiful harmony in my ears and worked just like a lullaby to me.

Since I couldn't pinpoint what hurt me so badly, he loved every part of me. He always did, but he ensured to love me extra hard on the days when I was in pain. One could say that he even babied me and I couldn't care less. His thoughtfulness and caring side only made me fall even harder for him.

Matt taught me that I should feel my feelings and not cover them up like they are just some damps on a wall you could easily paint over. He taught me that it's okay not to be okay and be vulnerable. It didn't matter if I came from a wealthy family or not, if I was short or tall, chubby or skinny, introverted or extroverted. I was human.

And as a human, I was allowed to feel. I was supposed to feel every humane emotion there is. Anger, sadness, frustration, disgust, fear... I was supposed to feel it all. And Matt made sure to be my safe place, the lighthouse in the dark sea, to do just that. He was my comfort. He was my home.

"Baby?" I mumbled and felt my eyes getting heavy. We were laying on my bed, our faces inches away from each other's.

"Yes, sweetheart?" he pressed a kiss on my cheek.

"You're my safety" I voiced as loud as I could before drifting away into sleep with a silly smile on my face. Matt's heart fluttered against his chest, his cheeks turning crimson.

"Always, darling. I love you more than anything" he whispered and pulled me closer to him, his lips placing delicate kisses all over my features whilst grinning stupidly against my soft skin.

[egophiliac]

I was wanting to try doing an art piece in the style of the signature spell poster art pieces you create. But I’m not really the best at coming up with a composition for such a thing.

Do you have a process for how you come up with the compositions for them?

oh, awesome! it is an INCREDIBLY enjoyable style to work in; I hope you have fun with it! :D

I'm not great at putting my thought/art process into words, so my apologies if this doesn't make a lot of sense, but I'll try! my first step is always to do a LOT of thumbnails to figure out both the idea and how I want to show it; not trying to do a real sketch or anything, just little doodles to figure out what exactly I'm trying to portray. (I also call these "garbage passes" because they're not meant to be any good, they're just there to throw things out. aha. ha. ...anyway.) I think it's important during that first stage to really focus on the idea and the layout and not to get too bogged down in the actual drawing yet!

I tend to save my final thumbnails, so I'll use 'em as examples (I posted the ones up through episode 5 here if you're interested!) (and, uhhh, spoilers through episode 5 also in this post, hopefully that won't be an issue!)

the main thing I try to think about in composition is balance -- not necessarily in terms of symmetry, but in where each element is placed and how much space it's taking up. remember, empty space is still space! it's also really important to think about the parts that don't have anything in them, as much as the parts that do!

personally, I like to divide things up roughly by both halves and by thirds -- there's a lot more in-depth info out there on why the "rule of thirds" in particular works well visually, but in short, our brains tend to focus on things that are placed closer to imaginary division lines, instead of in the exact center of an image. so even when I'm doing something that is very centered and symmetrical, I try to keep that in mind and generally aim around those for landmarks like faces/eyes (or...where they would be, anyway) and other focal points.

it's not a formula of "the character's face should be in this division of this grid" or anything, more like "our minds like to focus on these areas, let's think about how to use that", if that makes sense! and of course rules are made to be broken, art is lawless anarchy, and so on. but it can be a good starting place for deciding where you want to put things!

(blue - thirds, red - half)

and against the finished versions, because they do usually end up changing a lot (including the empty space of the border):

(...these actually lined up a lot better than I thought they would. :') it makes me look like I do things way more intentionally than I do.)

other stuff I just try to keep in mind is that our eyes like following arcs and paths, which can be a good way to guide the eye:

and frame and control the focus:

honestly, composition is one of those things I feel like I struggle with a lot, so I'm not sure how much of this is helpful or actually makes sense outside of my head. but hopefully it helps a little! it's all just stuff to think about while drawing and not anything hard-and-fast, so don't, like, stress out about making sure things are lining up exactly on the thirds or anything. again, it's more "our brains think these are the dopest parts of the rectangle" than anything else! take advantage of the cool parts of the rectangle!

NOW GO HAVE FUN DRAWING seriously though, it is always super cool that other people like this idea and style enough to want to do it themselves and for other/their own characters! thank you! ❤️❤️❤️

[luveline]

Maybe a baby blurb featuring miguel x spidergirl reader? Just miguel being all lovey dovey nd soft y'know.

thank u for ur request! fem!reader

You're dozing. He could speak to you and rouse you if he liked, but Miguel wants you to sleep, and sleep well. He puts his tablet frame on the nightstand and eases down into the pillows, careful where he's holding you not to jostle your head. 

"Miguel?" you mumble. 

He shushes you gently. 

"Miguel," you say again, hand curling over his stomach searchingly. You blink with heavy lashes, your eyes bleary. "Did I fall asleep?" 

"Barely." He reciprocates your embrace, laying an arm coiled with hard muscle over your softer hip.

"It's 'cus you're so quiet." 

You rub your nose into his chest. It isn't solely Miguel that's quiet. Your bedroom is silent —and Miguel has given up on calling it his, your things, your clothes, your bracelets, you, bursting from every corner— beside the thrumming of the standing fan at the end of the bed. He can hear the sound your fingertips make brushing over his shirt, the microfibers crushed by whatever shapes you choose to draw. 

"Are you okay?" you ask. 

Miguel loves you. "Fine. You're tired, cariño. No luches contra eso." 

"What does that mean?" you whisper, the hooks of fatigue beginning to pull you under once again. 

"It means 'don't fight it'. Sleep." He presses his lips to your temple. The kiss he gives you is precious, as though you're a girl of sugar paper, easily hurt. He knows you're made of harder stuff, but a certain serenity comes from treating you with care. 

He closes his eyes, leaning every closer, the tip of his nose smushed to your skin. 

"Not fighting. Just want to fall asleep at the same time," you say. 

"Yeah? Why's that?"

You struggle to answer, the sensation of his hand petting your shoulder and his warm body by yours a lulling you're too tired to fight. "You… stay up late, if I'm not…" You drift off. 

Miguel understands what you're trying to say. It's the truth. If you fall asleep first, he pulls a tablet into his hand to keep working. Eventually he sleeps, usually when the light of day that migrates in from between the blinds annoys him too much to stay awake, or your arms become too inviting. 

Tonight, they're impossible to ignore. 

Miguel uses some unnatural strength to pull you close and as on top of him as you can be. Your leg slips between his, your face into the sharp incline of his trap muscle that climbs from shoulder to neck. He turns your face in his loving hand. He can count your lashes three times over before he sleeps most nights, even in the dark. 

Your arms tighten around him with sudden unexpected life. "Please sleep," you mumble. 

He laughs softly into your temple. Miguel should make many, many promises to you. He should, and he can't, but he can give you this if it's what you want. 

"I'll sleep." He closes his eyes, savouring your weight atop his chest. "Goodnight, baby." 

[sukibenders]

comfort and care

FEATURING: percy jackson x reader

summary: for the past few days, you've been noticing a change in percy's demeanor as of late. from the bags gathering under his eyes from lack of sleep to his more irritable nature, everything had screamed "wrong" to you. in your attempts to find some resolve, you set out to find ways to tend to his needs.

contents: sad!percy, poor boy is struggling (specifics aren't mentioned) and needs comfort, fluff, angst, mentions of lack of personal care (such as poor sleep and struggling emotional health), percy not being kind to himself (dismissing his feelings), concerned!reader, cute couple moments, reader takes care of percy, mentions of cooking but can easily be ignored or altered if you can't cook, percy calling you babe, i hope percy doesn't seem ooc in this.

note" thank you so much to everyone who showed support to my first percy x reader, as that really warmed my heart. this one came to mind when i thought about how little x reader imagines there are that involve percy receiving comfort and felt like our boy needed someone to be able to vent to. ergo, this came to be. hope you enjoy!

You first noticed it during one of your weekly Iris Messaging calls with Percy, a familiar routine the two of you had come up with when you both had to leave camp to return to your respective household during the school season. It had helped ease the long-distance separation, considering demigods weren't allowed electronic devices such as phones with the risk of drawing the attention of monsters, and allowed for you both to speak for hours and hours without worrying about racking up on a phone bill. It was a bonus that it allowed you to see one another, especially now.

While it was evident that Percy was attempting to hide any signs of fatigue, you had known him well enough to see past the feeble attempts and hesitantly brought the issue forward. "You look tired," you had said, eyes scanning over his frame through the hazy messaging system. "When was the last time that you slept?"

At the question, Percy let out a soft laugh, waving his hand in dismissal. "C'mon, babe, let's not weigh down our talk with boring stuff like my sleep schedule. Wouldn't you like to focus on something more interesting?"

To which you retorted. "I would like focus on making sure that my boyfriend is doing okay, taking care of himself. That would interest me just fine."

The inky haired boy let out a small sound that rumbled in the back of his throat, taking in your words and the unwavering concern in your gaze. A part of him practically leaned towards you (or more so you image), wanting to seek you out for as much comfort as he could gain. But another, more darker part of him, had drew him to a halt and left his previous wants to plunder into nothing more than wants rather than needs.

"It's nothing, really." Lie. "I've just been stressed with school is all." Another lie, well, partially. "You know I'm not the sharpest tool in the box." He was attempting to be humorous, in hopes of drawing away your concern on to something else. It didn't work.

Your burrows narrowed in a way he'd only seen when you get protective over things that you care about, and being on the receiving end of that look made him wince. "Don't be so hard on yourself," you said with a stern tone. "Besides, I don't like it when people insult my boyfriend. He's a genius in his own ways."

"Even when it's me?"

"Especially when it's you." A part of you warmed slightly when you notice a glint of gratitude sparkle in the inky haired boy's eyes at your defense, even if it was from his own self. But, even with that, it did little to provide any solution to the dilemma at hand as Percy had used quick thinking to find a way of branching to a new subject that, before you knew it, left little room for you to return to your concerns before you both had to call it a night.

That didn't mean that this problem was over, nor would your attempts to fix it be hindered.

It would seem so that you weren't the only one to notice Percy's shift as most of your friends had noticed it too. From Annabeth, who was ready to report any of her findings discovered during the pairs talks with one another to you or other members of the Seven dropping casual hints of concern (Jason had mentioned that he noticed Percy's hands tremble whenever they would drag across his face, Leo had noted that his jokes---which were usually funny---had either fallen flat or gave a vibe of uneasiness, Hazel had commented on the way his smile no longer reached his eyes and so on). You had used your family phone to call Sally who at the time was nowhere near Percy, thankfully, and had nearly broken down to you over the phone about her worries. She had done the best she could, but she was only one person.

It didn't take you long to formulate a plan, all that was needed was a way of travel to the Jackson's residence. It was lucky for you that a certain son of Hades had been open to the idea of helping as he dropped you off via shadow travel in front of the apartment complex. After a thanks of gratitude, the di Angelo boy left with saying "Tell Percy that I hope he gets better" before disappearing into the shadows.

You had already informed Sally and Paul of your plan, and the two had readily abided by it by taking Estelle on a trip around the city, leaving you and Percy to have some alone time. By the time you had gotten to your destination, a sudden bundle of nerves had crept their way inside you as you waited for Percy to open the door. What if he didn't want you here? What if it only made him more upset? What if you being here simply did nothing at all?

All your thoughts were put on hold when the boy himself threw open the door, a look of surprise marking his features as he took you in, as if trying to determine whether you were really there or not.

"Surprise!" You had said with hopefully enthusiasm, a conscious smile painting your face as you waited for a response.

Instead of words, a pair of strong arms circled you and pulled you into a muscular chest, body molding around yours as two became one in a matter of seconds. "You're here." Percy mumbled, though more as a statement than surprise even though your sudden appearance was one for sure.

"Of course I am, babe." You smiled into his chest, rubbing your hands up and down his back in a way that you hoped would bleed all the love and comfort from your heart that you wished give.

It didn't take long for him to pull you in to the shelter of his apartment, and even less before the two of you reached his bedroom. You both had fallen on to his bed, laying side by side facing one another with a little distance to allow you to look into each other's eyes. It was moments like these were almost anything in the world could be happening, right outside the window even, and neither of you would care. All that would matter would be the warmth of your bodies pressed together, fingers interlocking in a complex hold that neither of you wanted to be freed from, and the mingling of your even breaths dancing with one another in the faintly lit room.

"I wished you told me that you were coming. I would've cleaned up a bit." Percy joked, waving a hand in the direction towards his mess of a room before rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

You let out snort, raising your hand to card your fingers through his messy locs. A smile pulled on your lips at the soft mewl that emitted from your boyfriend before he ducked his face into your neck. "I don't mind, I think my happiness at seeing you might overpower some of my observation skills."

Percy hummed. "Maybe I'm in luck then." You could tell that he was attempting to divert the conversation again, already knowing the reason for your abrupt visit. And a part of you was almost inclined to do so, wrapped in the comfort of your lover's embrace, physically after weeks of Iris Messages that left you only wanting more. But this social visit wasn't for you. As much as you wanted to lounge around all day, hearing Percy rattle off details of his days away or a spiel of jokes that would be sure to make you laugh.

But now was not the time.

"Percy," You whisper softly after a moment, thumb rubbing against the junction where his neck met his shoulders. He shivered, whether at the movement or your voice as the question he had been awaiting. "I've known you for a long time, like you've known me, and I can tell when something is wrong. Just as you would for me. And you and I both know that something is wrong. You haven't been yourself lately."

Percy didn't speak. His face remained hidden in your neck.

"You don't have to tell me right now as I won't force you. But I just want you to know that I'm here, and so are the others...if you ever want or need..." you pause, your hand stopping in its movements down his spine when you felt his body tremble beside you. "Percy?"

Labored breathing turned into harsh, muffled sobs that shook your heart with each one. Percy's usually tall frame clung to you as he pressed his face further into your neck, if that was even possible, littering the skin with a river of tears. The more he tried to speak, as if believing he had to explain himself, the more his words were choked by the sobs. You simply held him closer, pulling his body further into yours and caressing him from his back to his neck to scalp and back again, whispering comforting phrase from one's of love to one's of reassurance.

"It's all right," you whispered as he shook, running your nose along his temple. "You've been holding this in for a long time and now it's time to let it out. I've got you."

You both stayed like that until Percy's tears had run dry, until his heavy sobs turned into weak hiccups until his body stopped shaking and his breathing evened into one accompanied by an eased sleep. His body fell lacks at your side, his breaths tickling your skin every now and again. The collar of your shirt was dampened from Percy's tears, but you paid it no mind as you carded your fingers through his hair, soothing him even in his sleep because it was what he needed. What he deserved.

A thought had popped into your head when you felt your stomach growl in attention, your hunger taking focus as you realized, after looking at the clock on the bedside, how much time had past since between your arrival and now. Raising to your feet, taking precautions not to wake the sleeping boy, you slipped out of the room and towards the kitchen. Sally had been kind enough to offer to cook something before leaving, but you had simply offered to make something instead and leave one less thing for her to worry about.

You were an hour or so into cooking, the scents floating into the air and clouding throughout the apartment, when you heard hurried footsteps making their way down the hall. Glancing over your shoulder you watched as Percy slid into the room, his appearance ruffled from sleep but his eyes wide and alert as they scanned the room, searching for something. Or someone, more like it, as they stopped when they landed on you.

It seems as if a weight had left his shoulders as they dropped, no longer tense, and he easily made his way towards you. You were in his arms in less than a second, his face pressed into your hair as he breathe in deeply. "I almost thought it was all a dream. You being here."

You hummed, smiling into his arm. "Glad that I'm not?"

"You have no idea." You stood like that for a few moments, occasionally rocking back and forth to keep blood flowing through your legs when Percy spoke again. "Thank you. Thank you for...for..."

But you shushed him, shaking your head as you met his eyes. No words needed to be said, and he understood. His gaze drifted over to the assemble littering the kitchen counter with a raised brow. "Anything that I can help with?"

"Think you can handle it?"

This caused him to snort. "Please, I was raised by the Sally Jackson, learning how to cook was a given." He cracked his knuckles and rolled his shoulders confidently, moving closer the counter. "Now, chef, tell me what we're working with."

"Yes, chef!"

[queenshelby]

The Client (Rewritten)

Part One: Starting Out

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (37) & Reader (35)

Note: In this fic Cillian is a lawyer, helping the reader after she becomes a victim of domestic abuse.

It was one of those days again where James was seething with anger. Exhausted from overwork, his mounting stress erupted in a torrent of fury directed at you.

"Didn't I fucking tell you to clean up this mess an hour ago?” he bellowed the moment he barged in at 6 o’clock, his eyes ablaze with disapproval. You knew that yet again, your efforts fell short of his demanding standards.

“James, I am sorry. I lost track of time. I was in the garden…” you faltered, justifying yourself, avoiding his piercing gaze as you spoke.

“When I talk to you, you look at me! Understood?” James hissed as he yanked your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his imposing glare.

"I-I'm sorry, i-it won't happen again, I promise," you whimpered in fear, the sting of his slap still fresh on your face as you crumpled to the floor.

Without warning, he had struck you once more, the scalding tears tracing a path down your cheeks.

"Look at the things you make me do Y/N! I don't want be the bad guy here," James muttered, hoisting you to your feet as you wiped away the evidence of your pain.

“I am…” you attempted to speak, but he cut you off abruptly.

"I am sorry. I overreacted,” remorse etched on his face, though you didn't want his apology, refusing to meet his gaze as he enveloped you in a suffocating embrace.

“Okay,” you choked on a sob, swallowing hard. Words failed you, a suffocating fear gripping your heart.

Nine weeks pregnant with your unborn child, the last thing you wanted was to draw his wrath further. It wasn’t the first time his fists struck you, and you knew it wouldn’t be the last. Amidst his tirades and vicious cycles of abuse, his apologies felt hollow, the promise of change a mere illusion.

"Come on now, Y/N. Some of the senior associates are coming over tomorrow, and I need this place spotless! You don’t want to embarrass me, do you?” James remarked as he released you, prompting you to nod meekly and reach for the vacuum cleaner.

Without wasting a single moment, you attacked the housework, vacuuming and scrubbing with a frenzied determination. Every inch of the furniture received your fierce dusting, and not even the windows escaped your meticulous cleaning. By around 9 o’clock, you had conquered the tasks, but the exhaustion had already settled in.

As you completed your chores, you ascended the stairs to the bathroom, yearning for a brief respite under the warm water. Wrapping a towel around your trembling frame, you hastened to your bedroom to change into something more comfortable, but your attire failed to appease your husband's dissatisfaction.

“For once, could you not make an effort for me? I am your husband, after all,” James seethed, his breath reeking of alcohol as he barged into the room, making his presence felt.

He must have faced a brutal day, likely losing a pivotal legal battle, a realization that spelled trouble for you.

“Please, James, not now,” you pleaded, your words trembling with fear as he advanced towards you menacingly.

"You are mine. You will obey. If I desire, you will submit. You are good for nothing else," James growled, his tone dripping with malice as he forcefully pushed you against the wall, his grip tightening.

"James, please, I'm pregnant. You know this," you cried out amidst tears, attempting to evade his suffocating presence.

"So what?" James spat venomously. "That doesn't exempt you from my needs. On your knees, now," he commanded, gripping your hair and throat mercilessly, his wrath escalating.

"Stop! Just stop!" you begged, your voice breaking as you struggled against his brutal advances, triggering his unchecked fury.

He suddenly kicked your stomach, first once and then twice and slapped you till your face was bleeding once again.  

He was full of rage, and you couldn't make it stop. You were just going to let him do this to you because you didn’t have any strength anymore to fight him. You started seeing dark everywhere and before you knew it you blacked out.

Hours later, you woke up at the local hospital, engulfed by searing pain and exhaustion. Despite the haunting memories of what had befallen you, you chose to keep silent about the truth.

“I fell down the stairs,” you feebly explained to the nurse, offering a feigned facade. Unfamiliar with your history, she dismissed it as a minor accident.

But beneath her seemingly indifferent exterior, a flicker of concern burned brightly. As she somberly delivered the news of your lost child, you found a peculiar solace in the revelation, casting shadows of doubt on your inner turmoil.

“You appear oddly composed despite your loss. Is there anything I can do for you? I can arrange for a psychologist or call your husband to be here with you,” the nurse endeavored to comfort you, sensing an unseen weight upon your shoulders.

“The pregnancy was not planned. I didn't really want another child, so I will be fine,” you mumbled uncertainly, concealing the painful truth that your husband had manipulated you into this plight.

As you pondered your bleak predicament, the specter of freedom beckoned. Yet, with nothing to your name, escape seemed as elusive as a wisp of smoke.

“But, actually…” you hesitated just as the nurse was about to depart.

“Can you please call my brother for me? I don't have my phone on me, and I don't have a wallet either,” you implored, hoping against hope that the nurse would grant you this one favor and that your brother would pick up your call after almost a decade of silence.

“Of course, use my phone,” the nurse offered kindly, extending the lifeline you sought. With Dermont's number etched into your memory, you dialed it, engulfed by a mix of trepidation and longing.

After about three rings , a rough, familiar voice answered, "Who is this?"

"It's me. Please don't hang up ," you blurted out hastily, anxious the nurse wouldn't witness the conversation unfold given how you had parted ways with Dermont many years ago.

A brief pause followed, and your breath hitched, amplifying the suspense.

"Y/N," he finally said, his tone laced with surprise and perhaps a sliver of compassion. The name he hadn't uttered in so long seemed to weigh upon him, dragging up dusty memories of a shared past.

"I'm at the hospital. Can you come? I need your help. I have nowhere else to turn," you murmured into the phone, your voice cracking with unshed tears.

The heaviness of those words hung in the air, enveloped by a thick silence. You could barely discern whether he was mulling over your request or simply wrestling with the fervent desire to hang up.

"Which hospital?" Dermont asked, his tone now a shade softer. It seemed there was always a piece of him, deep within his heart that wouldn't abandon you despite your troubled past.

"Mater Private. I'm on the fourth floor," you mumbled as you swallowed the lump in your throat, anticipating the decision that could change the trajectory of your life forever.

"All right. I'm on my way," Dermont reassured, trying to hide the unease lacing his voice.

The phone call terminated, leaving you on tenterhooks, the enormity of your actions mercilessly sinking in.

The nurse watched you with gentle eyes, a silent understanding passing between the two of you. A whirlpool of agonizing vulnerability consumed you, spreading barbed tendrils of panic but somehow you knew that, at least for now, you were safe. Dermont would be coming from you and you would not have to face James again. 

Hours later, at Cillian's House....

It was around midnight when Cillian’s phone rang, ripping him out of his sleep.

“Jesus, why is someone calling you so late?” Janette, Cillian's paralegal, yelped while laying next to him. She pulled the doona over her face to cover her ears, trying to block out the unexpected interruption. Cillian and her had been entangled in an on-and-off romance for a few months now. It wasn't anything serious, just innocent fun on restless occasions.

“It’s a friend. It’s probably urgent,” Cillian murmured to her before taking the call and, as Dermont's panicky voice flooded his ears, a sense of urgency gripped him.

Barely shaking off the dregs of sleep, he scrambled out of bed, his actions fueled by instinct.

"What's going on, Dermont?" Cillian asked hurriedly, his mind shifting gears as he mentally prepared to handle whatever crisis his friend was in. 

“I urgently need an AVO. It can't wait,” Dermont nervously admitted and Cillian could hear the strain in his voice. 

"What the fuck for?" he wanted to know, thinking that Dermont had gotten himself in trouble and what he heard next made him forget all about his restless night.

"It's for my sister, Y/N. I swear, she needs it urgently. She's at the hospital because her sick bastard of a husband did beat her up again," Dermont explained and the sudden mention of your name made Cillian bolt upright. 

"How bad are her injuries? Is she alright?"  Cillian queried urgently, concern etching lines onto his face. The strong defenses he had erected around his heart began to weaken, an unspoken history pulling him under. Despite having lost touch with you just over sixteen years ago, memories of you remained vivid.

Dermont sighed before replying, "The doctors and nurses managed to deal with the damage. She's alive but she her entire body is covered in bruises,"  Dermont's voice cracked, conveying his helplessness at the distance that had grown between them after all these years.

"Did she report him to the police?" Cillian asked through clenched teeth, his cool demeanor betraying an intense surge of anger.

"Not yet. She's scared, man. She is really scared," Dermont whispered, the weight of his words settling menacingly in the air. 

"Listen, there is nothing we can really do tonight. You need to take her to the shelter on York Street. She'll be safe there. They provide emergency accommodation in cases like this. Come to my office with her tomorrow morning, at 8 o’clock and we'll start the paperwork,” Cillian advised, his mind racing through scenarios to ensure everyone's safety.  "Oh, and Dermont, get her a prepaid phone. She shouldn't be using hers in case her husband is tracking her," Cillian added as an afterthought, knowing that dangerous men like James often went to great lengths to control and harm their victims.

"Thanks, man," Dermont responded appreciatively, the reality that his friend was offering a much-needed olive branch sinking in.

"Of course. I will see you both tomorrow," Cillian agreed as he terminated the call with a sense of purpose coursing through his veins. As he glanced at Janette, who had since emerged from beneath the covers, a spark of clarity illuminated his eyes.

"What happened?" she wanted to know as Cillian climbed back into bed beside her.

"My friend's sister needs an AVO. Her husband has been beating her for a while I think and she just ended up in hospital tonight," Cillian pensively uttered the words as he slipped back into bed, disrupting the tranquility of the room that suddenly seemed tainted by the overwhelming gravity of the situation.

Janette blinked, slowly awakening to this revelation and the evident distress on Cillian's face. 

"I don't get it," she said softly. "Why are you even getting involved in this? You no longer do this kind of work and should refer her to Legal Aid rather than taking this case pro-bono which I know is what you are going to do." 

Cillian let out a sigh before replying, "Because he is my best friend, and I knew her from when we were young. We basically grew up in the same neighborhood."  he clarified, while absentmindedly toying with a loose thread on the blanket.

"Okay sure," she replied, immediately lapsing into a trance-like silence. With furrowed eyebrows and a partly sealed mouth, Janette's disapproval lingered uncomfortably in the room. "But honestly, do you even think that she will accept your help? If her husband has been doing this to her for a while, then she might even go back to him after a you bring a lawsuit," Janette interjected, the skepticism evident in her voice. "She's obviously got mental issues. Women who allow men to do this kind of stuff for a prolonged period of time usually have other things going on with them Cillian and you may not be able to save her," Janette persisted, exposing her doubts about the situation at hand.

Cillian felt a pang of defensiveness on behalf of you which was something he hadn't seen in over a decade and a half. "She isn't that type of woman, trust me. I knew her quite well," he stated emphatically, as he ran his fingers through his disheveled hair before sighing deeply. "Let's just get back to sleep, alright?" he then murmured, draping an arm around Janette's waist. But his mind remained restless, preoccupied with thoughts of your predicament and, to make matters even worse, when had fallen back asleep, Cillian's thoughts drifted back to their shared past, resurrecting memories of a time when life seemed infinitely simpler.

One evening in particular entered his mind. It was a cold autumn night just over sixteen years ago. You had just turned 18 the month before and Cillian was visiting Cork during his Semester break.  It was Dermont's 20th Birthday and Cillian had traveled all the way from Dublin to join the celebration. 

Spotting you in the corner of the room that evening, Cillian's pulse quickened as usual. He had been feeling this irresistible pull towards you for years, but never had the courage to utter a word about it. 

"Hey," he finally said, approaching you timidly, holding a little parcel in his hand. 

"Oh hey. I didn't even know that you were coming," you responded excitedly as you spotted him.

Your smile was as dazzling as ever, bathing his heart in warmth.

"Well, I wouldn't miss your brother's birthday for the world," Cillian replied with a wink, handing over the present wrapped in shiny blue paper.  "And this is for you I suppose. I am sorry it is a bit late. So, happy belated18th birthday," he told you, his heart pounding in his chest like a wild drum.

"You shouldn't have gotten me anything," you smiled as you unwrapped the gift with your slender, small fingers revealing a bracelet featuring your favorite animal.

"Oh wow, Cillian. Thank you," you exclaimed, that warm smile lighting up your face once more, sending a flutter through Cillian's heart.

"I'm glad you like it," Cillian replied, his own mouth curving into a grin as he marveled at your unbridled delight. "I first thought getting you jewelry was weird, but I don't know, when I saw it, it seemed really fitting somehow,"  he confided, a certain vulnerability in his voice which you found both surprising and endearing.

Your fingers grazed the intricately designed silver badger, its keen little eyes gazing back at you, seeming almost fiercely protective. 

"It's perfect," you told him before leaning in to kiss his cheek.  The gesture was innocent, yet it ignited a lingering warmth between you two - a feeling that left Cillian both thrilled and lovesick.

The night wore on, and the party dwindled to a close, but that brief encounter remained etched in Cillian's memory. He sought you out a few times that evening and, eventually, he found you outside, enveloped by the chill of the night. The atmosphere was saturated with a heavy silence, the hushed rustling of leaves playing an eerie melody in the darkness. The soft glow emanating from the house cast shadows upon the garden as he hesitantly approached.

"Avoiding the drunken crowds?" Cillian asked as he sat down next to you on the big swinging bench which you always assumed to be from the seventies. In his hand, he held a pint of Guinness and you reached for it to take a sip.

Your fingers made contact with his, setting off a current that surprised both of you. "I almost forgot that you are old enough to drink now ," Cillian mentioned, trying to bring the electricity in the air back down to normal levels.

"It's not my first sip of beer, but don't tell alright?" you chuckled , before cautiously taking a mouthful of the bitter drink.

Cillian's lips spread into a warm smile, enjoying your carefree laughter. It was a sound he wished to hear more often, although he realized he knew very little about what made you truly happy. "Scout's honor," Cillian nodded, the corner of his lips twitching in a soft smile.

The frosty night descended around you, weaving in the shared quietness and the stirring breeze.

As you handed the beer glass back to Cillian, you brushed your fingertips gently against his, the little shock still radiating like a cozy secret between the two of you. Cillian studied your face, reading the emotions swimming at the surface of your eyes. Something so genuine and comely: it was invigorating, and he couldn't seem to glance away.

"I know I've never said this, but honestly, I always quite liked you, you know ," Cillian quietly admitted, baring his soul to you. Opening up to his best friend's younger sister—the girl he pined for relentlessly throughout adolescence—felt both breathtaking and slightly terrifying.

"Really?" you queried, attempting to keep your wavering voice steady. "Why didn't you say something?" you asked, the words barely audible, as a nervous flutter rose within you. Your fingers toyed with the hem of your sleeve, mirroring the tumultuous storm brewing within your heart.

Cillian let out a soft chuckle before answering, "I'm not sure, really. You were young, and I was neither mature nor brave enough to express my feelings. I don't know,"  Cillian said with a shake in his voice, bashfully lowering his gaze. The vulnerability emanating from his statement filled you with a deep warmth, especially when he raised his eyes to meet yours again.

As you stared at each other, a wave of intensity rippled between you. "I kinda liked you too , y'know," you confessed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You couldn't tear your gaze away from the depth of Cillian's ocean blue eyes.

"In fact, I always had the biggest crush on you but just when I was ready to tell you were dating Siobhan O'Connor and  I hated that. I thought you would never notice me," you admitted nervously.

Cillian looked taken aback, as if the wind had been knocked out of him.

"What? That can't be," Cillian countered. "Of course, I noticed you! You had always been the most beautiful girl at every party we went to," Cillian cheerfully insisted, causing a soft blush to grace your cheeks. 

"Do you still think so?" you asked, your voice barely audible as a shiver of anticipation coursed down your spine. You shuffled closer, your breath hitching when your thighs brushed tantalizingly against Cillian's. Suddenly, he felt like the only solid thing in a world of chaos.

Cillian's gaze dropped to your lips, and in that moment, he knew that you two had been dancing around each other for far too long. 

"Yes, I do. You are beautiful,"  Cillian whispered hoarsely, leaning in to cup your face gently. Your eyes fluttered shut, and his lips met yours in a searing kiss that turned the world upside down. Every fear, every moment of hesitation dissipated like smoke in the night, replaced by the thunderous wave of desire.

You hesitated at first, unsure of how to react to the sudden turn of events as you had never been touched with such tenderness, and it took a moment to adjust.

Yet, as Cillian deepened the kiss, you realized that something seemed to awaken within you—a heavy hunger you didn’t know existed.

With shaky hands, you reached for his face, tracing your fingers his jawline. Cillian reacted with a low groan, tightening his arms around your waist. You tugged at the bottom edge of his sweater, desperate to feel more of him pressed up against you.

"Do you want to go to my room?" you murmured, pulling away just enough to speak. Your voice was barely above a whisper, but Cillian heard you loud and clear as if it was the most reasonable thing anyone has ever asked him. Albeit sensing your nervousness, he nodded and, shortly after that you led him to your room while everything around you seemed to blur.

You locked the door behind you, taking a brief moment to survey the room that was once yours but now seemed foreign.

The single bed was pushed against the wall, and a vanity littered with makeup and hair supplies occupied the other corner. But all of that faded into the background as you turned to face Cillian.

"We probably shouldn't tell Dermont about this," you murmured with a hesitant smile and Cillian chuckled softly, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair away from your face.

"Probably not," he replied, caressing your cheek gently.

As he leaned in to kiss you once more, you could feel the heat rising between you two. Your breath hitched as his hands roamed your body, and you clung to him greedily, running your fingers through his hair.

Cillian's fingers found the hem of your shirt, slipping under it to touch the warm, smooth skin beneath.

You shivered nervously  , but didn't stop him. Instead, you pulled him closer, your fingers digging into his back.

Cillian kissed you harder, his tongue exploring your mouth. His hands moved up to cup your breasts, and you arched your back, moaning into his mouth.

You could feel his hardness pressing into your hip, and you reached down to touch him over his jeans.

Cillian hissed, breaking the kiss to rest his forehead against yours. "Fuck, Y/N," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire.

You bit your lip, feeling reckless and wild. "I never, you know , did it before," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I want to, with you."

"Are you sure? We don't have to,"  Cillian said, searching your face for any signs of hesitation or uncertainty. But you only saw concern and care in his eyes - a stark contrast to the hunger and desire that had consumed you both just moments earlier.

"I'm sure," you whispered, reaching up to pull him down onto the bed with you for another kiss. Your bodies pressed together, and you could feel the heat radiating from him. Cillian's hands roamed your body, tracing the curves of your waist and hips before settling on the button of your jeans.

With trembling fingers, he undid the button and slid the zipper down, revealing the lacy red thong that lay beneath.

You watched him, your breath hitching as his gaze dropped to your lower half. Cillian swallowed hard, his throat dry as he saw the dampness seeping through the fabric of your underwear.

"Fuck, Y/N," he whispered, his voice ragged. He hooked his thumbs under the waistband of your jeans and dragged them down your legs, leaving you laying there in just your thong and your snug fitting t-shirt.   The anticipation coiled tight in your belly while you watched him stand and remove his own clothes, letting them fall to the floor where his shoes already lay discarded.

His body was lean and covered in freckles. Your eyes were drawn to the firm muscles of his abs, your gaze tracing the lines and ridges formed by his body. Then they wandered lower, to the bulge pressing against the fabric of his briefs. 

You quickly sat up and pulled off your t-shirt , tossing it aside with eagerness, revealing your bare breasts for the first time to his gaze. 

You sat there nervously  , anticipation and excitement coiling in your belly. Your nipples hardened under his gaze and you couldn't help but feel self-conscious.

"You're so beautiful, Y/N," Cillian said, as he knelt on the bed and crawled towards you, trailing his fingers over your skin. You inhaled sharply and leaned back to allow him access. He gently caressed one breast and then the other, before leaning down to take a nipple into his mouth. You gasped as his hot mouth closed around it, and your body trembled under his touch.

The sensation of his tongue swirling around your nipple sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, pooling in your core.

You let out a low moan, arching your back as he teased you. Your hands roved over his back, feeling the muscles ripple beneath your fingertips. Cillian's hand traced a path from your breasts, down your stomach, until he reached the apex of your thighs.

He hooked his finger into the hem of your thong and slowly pulled it down your legs, leaving you bare and vulnerable beneath him.

You couldn't help but feel a shiver of anticipation run down your spine as he stared at your naked body, taking in every inch of you.

His gaze was intense, filled with desire and longing.

His eyes met yours, and he leaned in to kiss you deeply.

His tongue plunged into your mouth, dancing with yours in a sensual rhythm that mirrored the movements of his fingers.

Cillian gently explored the folds of your pussy, discovering your slick wetness and groaning into the kiss.

He slipped a finger inside you, and you gasped at the sensation, your hips bucking upwards to meet his touch. He added a second finger, stretching you open and preparing you for what was to come.

Cillian broke the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck and over your collarbone. He suckled at your breasts, teasing your hard nipples with his tongue before continuing his journey down your body.

He planted soft kisses along your stomach, inching lower and lower until he reached the apex of your thighs. You spread your legs wider, allowing him access to the most intimate part of your being, the scent of your arousal heavy in the air.

Cillian wasted no time in exploring you further, spreading your lips apart with his thumbs and diving his tongue into your wetness. You cried out, your fingers finding their way into his hair, holding him in place as you ground yourself against his face.

"Holy shit, I didn't expect that," you panted, your eyes rolling back in pleasure as his tongue flicked expertly against your clit.

Cillian groaned against your wetness, his hands spreading you wider open as he feasted upon you. The sensation of his tongue delving into your most intimate places was almost too much to bear, and you struggled to keep your sanity as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

"Don't stop," you pleaded, your fingers tightening in his hair as a wave of pleasure washed over you.

"Cillian, please, don't stop." Your voice was a breathy whisper, urging him to continue his assault on your senses.

Cillian eagerly obliged, redoubling his efforts and bringing you closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy. His tongue fluttered against your clit, and his fingers plunged deeper inside you, curling up to stroke the sensitive spot within.

The sensation was indescribable, and you felt your orgasm building, spiraling higher and higher until it threatened to consume you entirely.

"Cillian!" you shouted his name as your release crashed over you like a tidal wave. Your body shuddered, wave after wave of pleasure coursing through your veins.

Cillian didn't relent, his tongue continuing to circle and flick against your sensitive clit, drawing out your orgasm for what felt like an eternity. When you could finally take no more, you pushed his head away gently, panting and gasping for air. He looked up at you with satisfied eyes, crawling up your body to kiss you deeply, sharing the taste of your release with you.

It was the strangest but most satisfying experience , feeling his face slick with your desire, knowing that it was because he had pleasured you in the most earth-shattering way possible.

He brushed the hair away from your sweaty forehead, murmuring sweet words of love and adoration.

"You taste fucking delicious," Cillian whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine as his lips traced the shell of your ear.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close for another searing kiss.

As you were kissing, you reached into his briefs , wrapping your fingers around his thick shaft. Cillian hissed, his hips bucking forward as you began to stroke him firmly.

"Goddamn, Y/N," Cillian growled, his blue eyes dark with desire as he watched your every move. "You're going to make me come like this."

"That's the idea," you purred, rubbing your thumb over the head of his cock, spreading the bead of pre-come that had gathered there.

"No, really," Cillian tried to sound stern, but even he could hear the barely concealed desperation in his voice. You chuckled and continued your assault, your hand moving faster and faster along his length. "I wanted this for so long. I need to feel you. All of you,"  Cillian moaned, as you released his manhood from the confines of the briefs. His cock was thick and pulsating with need, and you couldn’t help but marvel at its size and girth. Cillian leaned back, resting himself on his knees, giving you the perfect view. His muscles rippled in the dim light, and the sweat glistening on his skin only added to his allure.

He pushed his briefs all the way off , tossing them to the side and leaving him completely bare.

You couldn't take your eyes off him, mesmerized by the sight of him fully naked before you. He was a work of art, and you couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of the male form before you.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Cillian asked, his voice low and husky. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to, Y/N."

But you knew what you wanted.

"I want to, Cillian. I want all of you," you whispered and, with that, Cillian was on top of you, his lips crushing down on yours in a passionate kiss.

You could feel his hard cock pressing against your thigh, and you couldn't help but squirm underneath him, eager for him to enter you.

"Please, Cillian," you begged, your voice barely above a whisper. "I need you inside me."

Cillian didn't need any further encouragement. He positioned himself at your entrance, his tip brushing against your slick folds. He hesitated for a moment, savoring the feeling of your wetness against him.

Then, with a slow and deliberate thrust, he entered you, filling you up completely. You gasped as he bottomed out inside you, your walls stretching to accommodate his size.

"Shit," you whispered, your nails digging into his shoulders. "Don't move yet," you begged, still adjusting to the sensation of him inside you.

Cillian obeyed, resting his forehead against yours, his chest heaving with the effort of holding back. You could feel the pulse of his cock inside you, and it sent waves of pleasure crashing through your body.

"How does it feel?" Cillian asked, his voice strained. You could see the strain in his eyes too, the effort it took for him to hold back.

"Strange. But in a good way," you replied quietly, your breath hitching as he shifted inside you, causing your walls to clench around him.

"Does it hurt? Do you want me to stop?" Cillian whispered, concern etched on his face.

"No, no, I want more," you reassured him, your hands roaming down his back and gripping his firm buttocks.

Cillian took your cue and began to move, slowly at first, allowing you both to adjust to the sensation. With each thrust, his cock hit a sensitive spot inside you, eliciting a gasp every time. The smell of sweat and sex filled the room, and your bodies slapped together, creating a primal symphony that echoed through the space.

"Oh god , don't stop," you panted, your legs tightening around Cillian's waist as he thrusted into you gently, but precisely.  Your bodies melded into one, slick with sweat and desire, every movement bringing you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

Cillian's thrusts became more insistent, and your moans grew louder as he hit that spot inside you that made your toes curl.

"I can feel how wet you are for me, Y/N," Cillian whispered, his voice husky with lust.

He kissed you deeply, his tongue exploring the corners of your mouth as he continued to thrust into you.

You moaned against his lips, your legs wrapped around his waist as you took every inch of him. The friction of his cock rubbing against your sensitive walls was driving you crazy, and it didn't take long before you felt another orgasm building inside you.

Cillian must have felt the same because he started to build his own rhythm, driving himself harder and faster into your writhing body.

"I am so close. Oh god fuck," you panted, your fingers digging into Cillian's back as your body tensed up and you released a loud moan . The intensity of the orgasm shook you to your core, making you dizzy and disoriented. Your walls clenched around Cillian's cock, the sensation sending him over the edge.

With a loud groan, Cillian came inside you, his cock pulsing as he filled you up with his warm seed. He collapsed on top of you, his body trembling as he caught his breath. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close as your bodies slowly came down from the intense high.

Cillian's breathing was heavy, his heart pounding against your chest. You could feel his sweat mingling with yours, creating a sticky mixture that coated your skin.

"Fuck, Y/N," Cillian whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. "That was intense," he gasped and you moaned loudly again as he slowly pulled out.

"Yes it was," you agreed, shivering as the cool air touched your wetness. You could feel Cillian's warmth seeping out of you, merging with the sticky fluid that dripped down to your thighs. The sensation was oddly comforting and erotic at the same time, causing you to lick your lips in anticipation.

Cillian leaned in to kiss you once more, but before you could reciprocate, there was a sudden knock on the door.

"Y/N, are you in there?" you heard your brother ask and you quickly covered Cillian's mouth with your hand before responding.  "Yes, Dermont, what do you want?" you said, trying to compose yourself. Your heart was hammering in your chest, and you could still feel Cillian's warmth seeping out of you.

Cillian shot you a puzzled look, but you just shook your head slightly, indicating that he should stay quiet. He looked confused but thankfully didn't protest.

"I was looking for Cillian. Do you know where he went?" your brother asked and you were quick to respond.

"Nope , I haven't seen him," you lied, trying to hide the panic in your voice. Your heart was racing, and your body still hummed with pleasure from the intense lovemaking session you had just shared with Cillian. You could feel a blush creeping up your neck as you tried to remain calm.

"Alright," Dermont said, sounding disappointed. "Well, I'll catch up with him later then. If you see him, let him know that he left his  phone in the living room," Dermont said, his footsteps retreating down the hallway.

As soon as you heard the front door close, you let out a sigh of relief.

"That was close," you whispered to Cillian, who was still lying on top of you and  he chuckled, his breath hot against your ear.

"Too close," he agreed and then he kissed you once more before having to say his farewell for the evening. It was one and only time you had slept with each other before Cillian returned to Dublin for his studies and you went to Australia for your gap-year and whilst Cillian had promised to wait for you, life had other plans. 

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[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

hi! i saw your post about how true the makers of atsv were to real-life brooklyn and i loved it so much that i just had to ask if you'd be willing to make a more in-depth analysis on that? i'm not from america but i adore the movie so it's very interesting to hear firsthand accounts about its authenticity from locals! ofc this is just a humble request and i completely understand if the answer is no <3

I'd LOVE to! The Spiderverse Series is honestly the most accurate movie of New York I've seen in my life - including live-action movies. I say that not just in essence but in everything. And Across the Universe takes it over the top. Like, INSANELY so.

Across The Spiderverse & It's Dedication to Cultural Accuracy [aka ATSV is so goddamn good I can tell you exactly what street Gwen and Miles went to Mumbattan from. It's that accurate.]

I'm a black, afro-latino, and a born and raised 'Brooklynite'. Despite there being thousands of movies of New York, I'd say less than 5 percent of them are in any way accurate or current. (Yellow taxi cabs are no longer a thing here really.)

But Across the Spiderverse defies that in every way - nailing it historically, culturally, and even by replicating exact locations.

Wanna see the Bodega Spot robbed? Cause it's a real, random bodega! And the building he goes into at the end - I can tell you exactly where it is, with 100% assurity. All by street signs.

In the first scene with Spot we see him standing outside on the curb, looking into the store. On the corner there is a street sign that reads Fulton St.

Fulton is an actual street in BedStuy (Bedford Stuyvesant, pronounced Bed-St-eye), literally a stone's throw from my house. And they take it further.

Although it can be hard to see, the other side to the left of it reads Nostrand Ave. Fulton and Nostrand is a very popular intersection in the neighborhood, mainly because there's a subway station for the A line located on one corner.

There's Nostrand and Fulton.

But if you turn to the other corner you see...A Bodega! Looks familar?

That's the bodega Spot robbed.

99% of the people who watch this movie will be from New York. Even less will be from BedStuy. Even less will catch the split second sign on the corner, only on screen for only a few frames.

It took me 3 watches to notice. But I noticed. And my jaw dropped. How much that means is unexplainable. I've been on that corner, and the TacoBell across the street. And so has Miles. That's insane.

It doesn't stop there.

Spot enters the store, as we pass we see a sticker for 'WIC/EBT' on the cashier's counter. I'm not sure how common this is - but WIC and EBT standards for Welfare Benefits and Food Stamps. As you cannot buy warm food with Food Stamps (sadly), lots of bodegas advertise taking EBT for the deli sandwiches.

Nice shout out to the struggling families in the communities, I love a Bodega that takes EBT.

We move towards the back of the store - In the Bodega while Spot messes with the ATM we get a wider shot, and another very insanely specific shout out.

Behind Spot is a sign showing a Beef Patty (which I'll mention in a moment) and a sun logo called 'Sunny Patty'.

This is a direct call out to a specific chain of Beef Patty shops in Brooklyn and Harlem called 'Golden Krust'.

I cannot stress how much of a niche reference this is! Golden Krusts only exist in low income neighborhoods - mainly in Brooklyn, Harlem, and the Bronx. If you're anywhere near Times Square or any place else New York shows choose to portray - you're not finding a Golden Krust.

Golden Krusts are store that is ingrained in Caribbean culture, which Brooklyn is full of - hence the adapted Jamaican flag up front. I grew up eating Golden Krust and I'd eat it more if they didn't close so goddamn early.

But it's there.

Once again, only a few pixels, only a few frames, but someone probably took 6 hours drawing that. For the 0.009% of the people who'll get the reference. Low-income, black New Yorkers - like me.

ATSV is so accurate that you can even find the exact spot in which Miles and Gwen leave through the portal.

But before I tell you where it is - I wanna talk about why it's so important.

It's important because one of the most famous Spider-man scenes in history is just plain WRONG to New Yorkers.

This scene is ENTIRELY incorrect, and I knew it even as a child.

Firstly, based on the skyscrapers everywhere, this is solidly Manhattan. The train says Bay Ridge, which is in South Brooklyn, maybe 40 minutes away by train. So I'm going to assume this is the Q or B train, running through Manhattan. Which, okay they do, but -

There are NO elevated trains in Manhattan. The Q, like every other train, only goes above ground in Brooklyn and Queens. This is very clearly Chicago.

So he couldn't be doing this. It's a simple but HUGE fuck up. Any one born in New York will notice it because Manhattan just looks wrong with elevated trains.

And it would've been fine if they just set it in Brooklyn where Bay Ridge and the elevated trains actually are.

But instead they made generic Manhattan streets - so much so I can't even tell what neighborhood they're in. Do you see how this is such a problem?

Across The Spiderverse is animated. And they still put in the effort.

I can't tell you where Peter Parker is stopping that train - it ain't Manhattan - but I CAN tell you where Miles and Gwen leave for Mumbattan.

So let's go back to where we started. We're on Fulton and Nostrand both in BedStuy.

Throughout the fight, we see Spot and Miles go through a couple streets - most notably a very popular street in the neighborhood - Broadway.

This happens twice, once while fighting Spot, and once when Miles and Gwen grab the hot dogs. They show this twice, cause this will be important for what we're trying to do.

Now this may not make any sense to you, since it's just random streets, but I'm about to tie it together.

Gwen releases the bug near an elevated train. When we see Miles and Gwen swinging, they cling to a train. Now, it's hard to tell what train this is but so far we know.

We're in Brooklyn

We're near Broadway

We're near an elevated train line

There's a station on Broadway called Broadway Junction. It serves the G line and the J,M,Z line.

When we see the train pass by, we get a glimpse of the model. Each train line has a slightly different variation, with some being a lot old. The one that passes is one of the newer ones.

(Once again, very accurate, as those models do run on elevated lines)

And although we can't see the letter on the train, by that alone, I can guess we're by the elevated J,M,Z lines in BedStuy - near Broadway Junction. Easy. Now we just need to know what stop we're at.

Well, they tell us that too. Finally, When Spot heads into the building we get a glimpse of the exact street he's on - Bedford.Ave

So I just threw a LOT of information at you - but look at this map of the J,M,Z line and hopefully it comes together

At the bottom along the green line - we see Bedford/Nostrand Ave. Remember, the robbery starts us off on Nostrand. Let's move up the green line. We get to a part where the green line passes the brown and orange ones - the JMZ trains.

They connect at Broadway (Officially Broadway Junction Station). We see Broadway with the hot dog vendor there.

If we move to left of Broadway we see Marcy Av. - and if we look to the left OF THAT we see a faint white line heading north.

THAT line is Bedford Ave. Where Spot enters the building.

Because we know they're in Brooklyn, and we know they passed Broadway. Plus we know they're now on Bedford by an elevated train that runs newer models.

So from those signs alone we can definitely say that Spot is on Bedford Ave. and Broadway. Next to the JMZ elevated trains, two stops from Broadway Junction in Brooklyn.

100% that's the spot (lol). That's the only place Bedford crosses an elevated train. And as a New Yorker, I got that from this photo.

Trust me when I say - we can tell.

By those short shots of street signs, we know that Miles started in BedStuy, swung north towards Broadway, then took a turn towards Bedford Ave in Williamsburg. And that's where Gwen plants the bug - and the place she returns to before going to Mumbattan.

Is that crazy? That's CRAZY. Percision accuracy that I have never seen in a movie live-action or otherwise.

All throughout the first scenes of ATSV - they are on actual streets, that are reasonably within swinging distance of each other, along actual train lines - with their stations accurately located.

That's INSANE. There was no need for that amount of detail, but they did it anyway.

There's SO many times in Spider-men movies where they'll start swinging in Queens, and then the next scene is like Upper Manhattan. They don't label the neighborhoods, but from buildings alone, I can tell what neighborhood it is.

And I'm supposed to believe Peter just swung 2 and a half boroughs in twenty minutes. I don't notice. But I NOTICE.

Here, Miles and Gwen are truly swinging accurate distances in the right amount of time. That's mental. And refreshing!

In a live action movie - they have NO excuse. Just film in the city, it's not like we're Gotham. And we give film crews huge tax breaks. In an animated movie - completely understandable. But they still said 'No, that's subpar.' and went the extra mile.

They didn't even have to show ANY street signs, they could've left it at the easter egg at the corner store.

But they didn't. Because they're telling a story about a Black kid from Brooklyn, who leaves for someplace completely unfamiliar. BedStuy is Miles' home, and they wanted to make it feel that way. So when he's not there - in the cold polish of Neuva York - you can feel it.

You can feel Miles leaving his warm, rich community when he lacks that community in the Society. In the movie and IRL, BedStuy is so full of color, with so many people doing so many things and sharing so many cultures.

And in the society, everyone is the same. There's no culture. That's dedication.

Because of a train in Spider-man 2, I was immediately taken out of the story. And because of train in ATSV, I was immediately brought in.

For once, it feels like they're swinging around a neighborhood - cause they are.

A Large Detail in ATSV:

So I talked about Trinity Church - the real church that Peter Parker was buried at in ITSV - and how accurate the team got it to the actual building.

In fact, this is the spot where Miles is standing.

Like he's standing maybe 20 feet AT most from this spot, you can see in the windows and spires at the top.

But I also wanna explain why this - and why the fact that Peter was buried there is SO important.

Trinty Church is one of the most famous historical churches in the United States. It was started by the first English settlers in New York. It's extremely famous, and extremely sentimental.

For reference - Alexander Hamilton and his family are also buried at Trinity Church, along with dozens of other important US historical figures - across centuries.

You can't just be buried in Trinity. It's a city landmark. The cemetery is full, small, and you CANNOT pay your way in. The church is extremely choosy with who they will bury there - and honestly, I don't think anyone has been buried there for maybe a century or more.

So for the city to bury Peter Parker's body in the most prominent church in all of the city, if not the country - that speaks VOLUMES.

Like I said in the last post, my father use to work at Trinity Church - and they're the whole deal. Candles burning everywhere, super quiet and devote. The church has catacombs under it, everything.

They didn't just bury him anywhere. The people of New York went out of their way to give Peter Parker the most honorable burial physically possible within the city of New York.

The highest honor for any New Yorker. One reserved only for Spider-man.

Which I think was an amazing touch. Especially since Trinity is in downtown Manhattan - so anyone could come visit and pay respects.

Other Cultural Accuracies

Before we wrap up I wanna breeze through some other cultural accuracies that appear in ATSV.

Miles stops to eat a Jamaican Beef Patty while in the Bodgea. I spoke about these earlier with the Golden Krust sign. Jamaican beef patties are these flaky pastries colored with tumeric, full of spicy meat. And they are very popular with the large Carribean community in Brooklyn - which I'm apart of :)

In the case, we see the Beef Patties labeled with red dots. But Miles seems to go for the only one without it.

I'm guessing the red dots indicate which ones are the spicy Beef Patties and which ones are the mild, and Miles grabbed the last mild one they had.

They draw it really well, especially while Miles is eating it.

"Spider-man seems more Dominican." Genuine question - did anyone laugh at this joke in your theatre?

Because all three times I went, people laughed. The first time people LOVED that joke.

NYC, especially the Bronx has a HUGE Puerto Rican AND Dominican population - many times living side by side

And there's this kinda 'beef' in the same way Yankees fans have beef with the Mets fans (NYC baseball teams)

The best way I can describe the joke is that they're two very strong, very proud Spanish cultures that are often mistaken for each other - but Puerto Ricans and Dominicans can very obviously tell each other apart. Mainly because of the Spanish they speak.

So for him and his mom to have that back and forth, it's kinda an inside joke of Puerto Ricans and Dominicans getting confused for each other - but them being able to tell the difference.

His mom says Spider-man is Puerto Rican, but Miles corrects her - without backing it up with any reason.

It's like they can just TELL.

I don't know how else to explain the joke but its a very New Yorker thing to do - discuss that out like that.

Since a lot of us are the children of immigrants - it's knee-jerk to identify with your parent country and not this one.

If you ask someone in New York 'What are you'. Many young people (me included) would say "Oh I'm *parents nationality*." In my case, I say I'm Bajan and Peruvian. Even though I was born in New York.

Miles would say he's Puerto Rican though he's never been.

So them discussing where Spider-man is 'from' even though he's obviously a New Yorker is the joke.

Like - someone on the writing team HAD to be from New York to add that in cause it's so...oddly New Yorker???

While swinging Miles and Gwen pass the B46 bus. Once again, completely accurate. The scene starts on Nostrand and Fulton. The B46 does indeed stop on Fulton St.

When they're swinging, the movie accurately shows the new World Trade Center (aka The Freedom Tower) - which is the tallest building in the picture.

Also, the bridge to the LEFT is the Brooklyn Bridge, while the tall one on the right is Manhattan Bridge. Many people don't know there's actually two bridges. (There's more but those two are the main ones)

Good on them for showing both Bridges, both accurately placed as well

Fun fact: Trains run over the Manhattan Bridge - the Q, B and a couple others (beautiful - I love it when they do) but trains do not run over the Brooklyn Bridge.

And lastly, when Miles and Spot are on Broadway, the school behind them is actually architecturally accurate for a Brooklyn school. So much so that design is iconic.

______________________ So those are most if not all of the cultural accuracies in Across the Spiderverse!

I cannot stress enough how ridiculously bang on this movie is in terms of everything.

The team put in so much work, and it paid off. To me, at least.

I don't feel like Miles is some kid from a different alternative New York. I feel like he's a real kid in MY New York. From everything down to his Jordans (don't even get me started on how much Jordan's has a CHOKEHOLD on teenagers in New York. Like...it's a status thing. Even since I was a kid, everyone wanted Jordans. Jordans or Nike Air Force 1s. So having Miles wear Jordans is my favorite thing cause yea a kid from BedStuy would think those are flyest shit ever even though they're just regular degular Jordans lol. And you KNOW Miles 42 a sneakerhead. Look at those shoes. He aint creasing those)

This movie, is chef's kiss. It tops all other New York portrays - live-action or otherwise and I stand on that.

If you read this far, thank you SO much. I love sharing New York culture (and the cultures that make it what it is to begin with) and I'm SO happy I can share this stuff and hopefully help people appreciate the movie more too!

If you learned something or have any questions, I'm all ears!

And I usually leave a photo of Hobie here as a send-off but this post hit the photo limit LMAOOOOOO

Bye.

[sadclowncentral]

Sorry if this is a weird question, and if that's the case you can absolutely not answer, but how do you cope with having multiple full-time jobs and still having energy outside of work? Feels a bit like I'm dying of exhaustion every day over here lol

I've been ruminating for a few days on this ask because truly I struggle with this more than I want to admit. My jobs rarely leave me with energy outside of work, and I have gone through times in the last two years where working and sleeping were the only possibilities, and it sucks, and it is kind of embarrassing, but I have also found some ways to mitigate it even slightly which I am more than happy to share:

1. Schedule fun times (yikes)

It was a harrowing realization that I need to schedule hang outs and self care just like every meeting - weeks in advance, colour coded in both the calendar and the to do list - but since I started doing it, my success rate has skyrocketed. You either die a type b or live long enough to become a type a i guess

2. Bring your fun to work day

I will suggest anything that's fun to me as a work activity. I like drawing so you KNOW the ministry is littered with illustrations. My PowerPoints create envy across departments. I scout the world of my office for ways to have fun and I am not embarrassed to say so. I'm funmaxxing the grind. So what

3. Everyone is depressed bitch

Acknowledge that everyone your age is looking at their fifty-year olds in their work life with white-hot envy (WHEN THE FUCK DO YOU HAVE TIME TO GARDEN) and that the loss of agency that comes with starting your career is normal and sad, but also means that...

4. Let's get some fruit

...you gotta stop thinking in old time frames of friendship expectations. people you haven't talked to for eight months will not be mad about your absence as they are stressed and hobbyless as well and will instead REJOICE at a scheduled hangout. I have friends I see once a year we love each other. no one is mad and everyone is stressed tf out LET'S HANG

5. Win the war not the fight

hey. listen to me. this isn't easy. it sucks coming home and feeling like having no agency left. and it's hard to break that cycle of exhaustion, and I fail all the time, when is the last time i saw the sun, oh god oh no my twenties. and if you feel like that is necessary in the time you are in, that is respectable. don't be mean to yourself for being stuck in a system that tries to squeeze all the energy out of you like a grape of some sort. you just gotta make sure you don't FORGET that you are a fully formed person with hobbies in another life. buy that plane model kit. bookmark that recipe. join that knitting group. i know you dont have time and energy. but your future self will thank you for paving the way.

I hope these are helpful. don't forget to have fun and be yourself. godspeed

[mattsturniolosmuse]

My Girl

Part 2 of Meant To Be: A Heartbreak High fanfic

Cash's POV

Synopsis: You and Cash advance in your relationship, and he asks you out. He has very morbid thoughts about you, and he finds himself struggling to keep himself in his pants.

Warnings: Masturbation, Swearing, alcohol use, making out, slight porn use, fluff, pet names

Song: Sun To Me by Zach Bryan

🎵♥ sweetest of the sunflowers, yeah, you're the sun to me ♥🎵

➽ ➽ ➽ ➽ ➽ ➽ ➽ ➽ ➽ ➽ ➽ ➽ ➽ ➽ ➽ ➽ ➽ ➽ ➽ ➽ ➽ ➽ ➽ ➽

"Nan!" I yell, clutching Y/N's shoulders, trying to hide her from view. Nan sees her anyways. She used to tell me that she has eyes on the back of her head, so one time, when she was sleeping, I poured bleach on the back of her head to blind her.

I stare at Y/N as she leaves. Saying that she is hot is an understatement. I know everybody is always talking about how Amerie is hot, but, I just don't see where they're coming from. They must be blind if they prefer Amerie over Y/N.

The way those leather shorts hug her ass perfectly, the way her breasts are practically spilling out of her shirt. Everything about her is just so... stunning.

I didn't realize I was hard until nan shoved me into the wall while walking past. I lock myself in my room, grab my laptop and flip it open while sitting on my bed.

I hesitate. I've never used porn before, but I was desperate.

I open the website, and type hot girl porn.

I reach into my pants and grab my throbbing cock. I gargle as I fist it softly. The girl in the video starts moaning, and I imagine Y/N moaning my name.

"Nnng, Y/N..." I moan quietly, making sure nan doesn't hear. I fist myself faster, knocking over the lamp on my bed frame as I throw my head back.

I finish in my hand, and I breath heavily as I head to the washroom.

➽ ➽ ➽ ➽ ➽

"Thanks for dinner, nan, it was great." I say, excusing myself from the table.

"Where you goin' now, shag that girl of yours?" Nan says, chuckling.

"Nan..." I say, drawing out the 'a.'

My phone buzzes. Speak of the devil.

my bunny💕: you comin to the cemetery

me: idk, now?

my bunny: yes sir

I cringe inwardly as blood rushes to my dick.

me: sure, omw

I grab a coat from the hanger at the front, slipping my phone inside the pocket.

I bike towards the cemetery, and it suddenly dawns on me that I might be awkward in front of Y/N, after what I did earlier.

Whatever. I think to myself. It'll be fine.

I dropped my bike on the ground, looking around for Y/N. I finally see her with Dusty and Harper over by the drinks. She holds a red cup in her hand. Her outfit changed; she was wearing neon pink leggings and a black long sleeve crop top, the chest saying "angel" in small diamonds.

I rush towards her, needing to be close. I grab her waist from behind.

"Hey, bunny." I say into her ear. She spins around with a smile.

"Hey." She says, hugging me. I sniff her hair. She smells like lavender and vanilla.

"So, did your nan get mad at you?" She asks me. I chuckle.

"No. In fact, she asked me just now if I was leaving to shag you." I say.

"Oh..." She says, blushing.

"Where's your sister? Didn't you have to babysit?" I ask her. She nods, taking a sip of her drink.

"She's having a sleepover with Amerie's little sister tonight." She says, gesturing lamely towards Amerie.

"Hey, Harper. Dusty, my bruh." I say, dapping Dusty up.

"Hey, man. You two a thing now?" Dusty asks, looking at Y/N, who was in conversation with Harper, then back at me.

"Well, I don't know, I think so? I'm not sure. We haven't really said anything about dating." I say, scratching the back of my neck.

"Should I ask her?" I ask.

Dusty shrugs. "Depends, how much do you love her? Like, you want to shag her, or you just want to kiss her?"

I turn red. "Um, both." I say, looking at my shoes.

"Tell her, man. Just earlier, she was just talking, then Harper mentioned you and her eyes lit up and she seemed happier." Dusty says, looking at Harper and Y/N.

"Right, bruh... off I go." I say, grabbing Y/N's arm and leading her away.

"Cash? Is everything all right?" She asks once we stop, rubbing the tattoo on my arm gently.

"Yeah! Of course. I just-" I start. I throw my head back and squeeze my eyes shut.

"Willyoubemygirlfriend?" I ask quickly. Y/N raises her eyebrows.

"I beg your pardon?" She asks.

"I love you and want you to be my girl." I say, looking her in the eyes.

She answers by smiling and bringing her face to mine. I smile and press my lips to hers. No matter how many times she kisses me, I'll never be able to get enough. Her lips are soft, and she slow but demanding.

She uses a lot of lip gloss, so her lips often taste like strawberries; her favourite, I've noted. Now, they taste like vodka and chocolate. I lick her lips, trying to save the taste to memory. She sighs, opening her mouth and letting my tongue enter her mouth. I whimper as she bites down on my tongue.

"Of course I will." She says, pulling away, a string of saliva connecting our mouths, and resting her forehead against mine. I smile, looking into her pretty eyes. She giggles, causing me to laugh. Soon enough, we are both full on laughing, holding on to our stomachs and hunching over. I look at her. Her eyes are so full of light and joy, her smile so big that I was afraid it might split her face in half.

➽ ➽ ➽ ➽ ➽

*A few days later*

"I don't got the money, bruh." I say, gritting my teeth.

"Why?" Chook asks, matching my anger.

"Because I don't! What the fuck don't you understand?!" I snap, immediately regretting it. The second the words leave my lips, Chook's fist makes contact with my face. I close my eyes, slowly looking back at him.

"I'll get the damn money." I say, spitting at his feet before I leave.

I would leave the eshay's if I could. But I can't. It's the only thing that can afford my nan's medications. I send Y/N a quick text.

me: where u at

my bunny💕: home, you comin

me: not yet, be there in half n hour or so

my bunny💕: ok

I rush home, throwing my bag on the floor. I head into my bathroom and look in the mirror. A huge bruise is forming on my right eye.

"Fuck!" I say, swiping my hand and sending pills and cups flying. I search around for something; an eyepatch, glasses, anything. I find a pair of sunglasses in a kitchen drawer.

Good enough. I say, taking a look in the mirror before heading out the front door.

I knock at Y/N's door, and her little sister opens it.

"Dougie!" She screeches, hugging my waist. I chuckle.

"Hey, princess." I say, hugging her monetarily before she pulls away and runs back into the kitchen. I knock on Y/N's door before coming in. I gasp when I see her. She has only a white t-shirt on- which happens to be mine- and what I'm assuming is a pair of panties underneath. That's it.

"You ok?" She asks, noticing my gasp. I nod gamely.

"Yeah, just remembered that I have a school thing due tomorrow." I lie. She nods. She reaches up over her shelf to grab some Oreos. As she does so, her whole bottom half is revealed.

My eyes feast upon her body, and her pink thong that rides tightly up her ass. It's got frilly lace along the border, and when she turns around, I notice a bow on the front. My eyes shoot back up to her, but I knew she caught me staring. I knew from the smirk on her face.

"I'm sorry! I just-" I say, but she places a finger to my lips.

"Don't worry about it." She says. She walks back to her bed, her hips swaying. Fuck.

I follow her, and she pushes me down onto the bed. She straddles me, removing my glasses. Now it was her turn to emit a gasp.

"Oh, babe, what happened?" She asks, caressing my cheek.

"Nothing, bunny." I whisper. I was too busy focusing on my cock that was straining to get out of their confinement. She kisses my eye, then kisses my lips. I sigh into the kiss, grabbing her waist.

She grinds into me, and I moan loudly. She pulls away.

"Someone's horny." She says, kissing me again. She pulls away quickly, looking at me as if she was expecting something. I stare back.

"So! Have you started the school project?" I ask her to help the awkwardness. She rolls her eyes and gets off of me.

"No. Have you?" She asks. I shake my head. Just then, her sister barged into the room.

"Y/N! WHERE IS MY COOKIE!" She yells.

"I don't know! Ask mom!" Y/N says calmly, shooing her sister out of her room. She lays beside me and cuddles close.

"Goodnight, Cash." She whispers. I smile.

"Goodnight, bunny." I say, stroking her hair till she falls asleep. I slowly leave the house, making sure to lock the door behind me.

[holewithinahole]

Brown and Green | Olivia Octavius x Reader

Summary: After the accident with the collider, you end up on Earth 1610 in the Alchemax building. Dr Olivia Octavius is here to greet you. You can't help but notice all the resemblances with your own Octavius.

Ao3 Link

Warnings: shameless smut, no genitalia specified, no pronouns specified (reader), tentacle sex, restraints, orgasm denial, overstimulation, fantasising, non-native writer

I hesitated posting it here, but we don't post non-beta'd shit to be a coward. I wrote this in a few hours and took three days to resign myself and just post it. But after seeing Across the Spider-Verse, I had to re-watch the first one and I was, once again, hit in the face by my bisexuality and my obsession towards Dr Octavius. Tell me I'm not the only one...

Oh, reader is part of the Spider-Verse, I wrote with no gender nor genitalia in mind, I hope everyone can enjoy it!

Ok. Let’s do this one more time, shall we?

My name? Not really important because for the last few years, I’ve been the one and only Spiderman. You all know the story by now: being bitten by a radioactive spider which suddenly allows you to skip workout, the loss of a loved one... The usual Spidey-stuff.

I shoot my webs; I swing from Brooklyn to Queens to the Bronx to stop supervillains, rescue cats stuck in trees and help your grandma cross the road.

One day as I was doing my super-work, something weird happened: a flash of light and boom, I was in New York. But not my New York, a new New York. As for where I crashed, well–

“You seem tensed, Spiderman.”

You can feel your bones crack as those weirdly smooth, plastic-y tentacles wrap tighter and tighter around you.

“You, ow–” you hiss, out of breath. “You could say that.”

A shimmering laugh answers you and it’s just so weird. But after all, what could you expect from a parallel universe? You still have a hard time wrapping your head around the whole concept of dimension warping… and alternate versions of your enemies.

“What did you say your name was?”

“Dr Olivia Octavius.” She draws closer, that ridiculously hot smirk at the corner of her lips.

Fuck, can you concentrate for once?

“It sounds like you already knew the answer,” she says. With her free hands, she pulls her curly hair up, rebellious strands framing her face. Is amazing hair a multi-universal law for all Doc Ocks?

“‘Can’t say that I did–” you pause as long gloved fingers slide under the edge of your mask. “Hey! That’s a no-no, lady!”

She snaps the mask right off your face, an interested glimmer in her eyes. You feel like a mouse spread apart for dissection and she sure looks ready to whip out a scalpel. Was she really hiding a complete latex suit underneath her clothes? Not to be the one to pat supervillains on their shoulders to congratulate them on a job well done, but she really mastered the inconspicuous chemistry teacher cosplay.

Focus.

“It is quite fortunate that your portal opened here,” Octavius says conversationally as she readjusts her gloves. “I would have hated to run after you everywhere in the city.”

“Oh, you know me.” Your shrug looks like an uncontrolled twitch of your shoulder. “Always glad to help.”

“Indeed,” she chuckles. She grabs your face, inspecting it from every angle, ignoring your string of offended words. At the corner of your eye, an actuator reaches for a– ah, there is the scalpel. “Now…”

Oh hell no…

“Hey! Hey lady–“ Struggling is pointless and the more you try, the more she grins. “Olivia– can I call you Liv’?”

Octavius laughs. “Only my friends call me Liv.”

“We can be friends I’m sure.” You make sure to put on your best smolder. It looks painfully ineffective. “Or, you know, we can come to an arrangement.”

She raises an eyebrow at that but doesn’t answer. She’s not considering it, is she? That’d be a lucky day for the smolder – not that it doesn’t usually work of course (It doesn’t.) You keep smiling but her slow approach makes all your senses – spider and regular, tingle. It takes all of your brain power to tame your fight-or-flight response and not recoil as much as you can.

Are you seriously sweating right now?

“Oh, that’s rich.” Her smile is predatory. “Is it a usual Spiderman tactic to try to seduce their enemies?”

The actuators tighten even more around your torso. The discreet cough you let out widens her smile.

Toothy.

“Perhaps not in your universe.”

You’re relieved when the scalpel is dropped carelessly on the table behind her. Even more relieved when the tentacles lessen their grip around you. Your relief is soon replaced by surprise as one of them curls slowly around your left leg. It’s definitely better than being cut open, right?

“Alright, little spider.” Octavius stares down at you. “I’ll entertain the idea.”

Right?

In a blur, she steps in between your legs, helped by the arm holding your limb hostage. “And to answer your question…” Her hand comes to rest in the dip of your hip, feeling up muscles under her fingertips. Somehow it’s this simple gesture that sends a strong shiver through your nervous system.

“You can call me ‘Doctor’ from now on.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Liv.” The actuator tightens around your throat. “Doctor!”

A low laugh answers you. And that’s just not fair. Octavius has you in the most vulnerable state you’ve ever been in. Except perhaps that time when you had to face Captain Stacy, near the corpse of your bestfrie— oops, no, wrong mind folder. The most physically vulnerable you’ve ever been then.

“You never stop talking, do you?”

Earlier, Octavius had taken all the time in the world to push your arms out of your suit, her actuators handling you like a puppet, until your torso was bare for her to enjoy. You did try to yank at the tentacles keeping both your arms secured behind your back but thanks to whatever kind of sick machinery she put in them, they just wouldn’t budge. You were genuinely impressed at the technology allowing those arms to both be flexible and unbreakable. Even your Octavius had to favor titanium steel when he built his own.

The actuator that isn’t wrapped around your throat – a menacing yet tantalizing statement, or holding your limbs down, creeps from the top of your thigh to your chest, not unlike a viper chasing for its food.

Ah yes, the situation at hand.

“To be fair,” you huff. “You love to hear yourself talk as well.”

“You seem to know a lot about me, little spider.” Her hand travels from your hip to the underside of your right thigh. “Altercations with my alter-self then?”

You chuckle, a breathy fucking embarrassing thing. “Oh, plenty.”

Your suit pools uncomfortably at the bottom of your stomach, the sleeves flapping underneath you. It must be so practical to have strong mechanical arms capable of holding your enemy one meter above the ground without even breaking a sweat. But you feel way too warm. Isn’t it hot right now? Isn’t she hot?

Oh, she definitely is, submit your traitorous mind.

“I’m sure we must have been tormenting you intensely.” She giggles, examining a large scar running from your pectoral to your lower belly. With a finger, she traces it like words on paper.

“That’s from you, actually.”

Your Octavius had looked so smug when it happened.

She looks up, smirking. “His actuators are way more pointy than yours,” you explain.

The double-entendre doesn’t go unnoticed, but she doesn’t comment. “Actuators, uh? I haven’t heard this denomination in a while, since my research paper on radioactivity in fact.”

“Yeah, I did my homework.”

You exhale shortly when the teasing actuator wrapped itself around your middle section allowing the others to tug at your suit. Octavius stopped her reverential petting to observe the spandex clinging to your skin, slowly displaying your legs and your underwear-clad pelvis like an exhibit. A free one at that, with free food and everything.

“So,” Octavius asks after discarding the suit to a corner of the room. “What’s the name of my counterpart?”

Both her hands come resting on your legs again. “Otto,” you mutter through clenched teeth.

“Funny,” she says, taking her sweet time feeling your backside muscles. She likes to grope, doesn’t she? “That’s the name of my father.”

Your nose wrinkles. “Ew, what a way to kill the mood, lady.”

Strangely, she doesn’t mention your slip, simply laughing while resting her palm on your– nether regions. The mood is far from being killed however judging by the humiliating wetness spreading through your underwear. She presses her palm down a little forcefully, and you moan loudly. Raising an eyebrow, it’s with a certain – perhaps misplaced – curiosity that she alternates between stroking up and down and toying with the tips of her fingers any potentially sensitive region. And you can’t contain the noise.

To be fair, you’ve never really been ashamed of anything.

There’s a daze settling in your mind, a fog behind your eyes as you only focus on the diffuse pleasure settling down there. You’re pulsating, every blood vessel tight, engorged as a blush spreads on your skin. You’re drifting, fuck– you’re so–

“Eyes on me, sweetheart.”

You don’t have time to reflect on the fact that you obeyed so eagerly because her touch's gone and it's the only thing you can focus on at the moment. She knows that too because her smugness is plastered all over her face – some things never change, and you want to cum all over her arrogant little smile.

“That’s–” you struggle to catch your breath. “So uncool.”

“The arrangement is you get out of here alive and I,” Octavius smirks. “get to do what I want with you.”

The shiver that travels through you speaks volumes. So the key to the ultimate fuck was ‘travel to a parallel universe’ all along? Talk about a joke.

“Now.” She straightens up, towering over you. “Tell me a little more about your Otto.”

The tentacles raise you higher in the air, pushing your hips at almost eye-level to Octavius.

“Self-centered much?” You joke, trying to ignore the actuator crawling along your leg.

“Curious,” she replies, enjoying the show. “You didn’t go around flexing those beautiful muscles in front of his face, did you?”

“What–” You try not to blush but fuck– it’s hard to concentrate when there’s the equivalent of an alien tentacle nuzzling you through your underwear. “Hey! I’m a very respectable – ah!, person ok?”

She laughs loudly at that. “It’s not a no, is it?”

“It’s part of the job!” You huff, avoiding eye contact. “Nothing ever happened with Otto. I care about my life, you know.”

“But not enough to avoid trying your ridiculous seduction tactics on me?”

You wonder if there’s a sliver of internalized misogyny reprimanded somewhere but, in your defense, the smooth head of the actuator now slowly creeping towards your opening is hard not to focus on.

“Worth a shot?” you pant.

You let out a surprised groan as the rough feeling of your underwear breaches your entrance, pushed inside by the blunt head of the mechanical arm. Not nearly enough to truly be inside but the movement is a warning at worst, a promise at best.

For fuck’s sake, listen to yourself.

As the actuator keeps pushing against your hole, you’re assaulted by the wet sound your garment does as it moves. It’s reminiscent of your evenings alone in your shitty apartment when you have enough time to tease the shit out of you. And as Octavius’ hand is back on your crotch, sensations and recollections drive you mad, spilling moans and gasps from your open mouth. Are you going to cum just like this? Groped through your pants and your hole teased like a fucking teenager? You’re too old for that.

Octavius hums to herself, observing you and cataloguing all your reactions as she would do for her research. Her undivided attention on you is exhilarating, and you watch her through half-lidded eyes wishing you could see the curious glint in those wide brown pupils.

What the fuck?

“You seem out of it, Spiderman.” She chuckles. “Drifting away?”

You gulp. “You could say that.”

It’s like she can see right through you. “Fuck– I’m–”

She suddenly disengages, leaving you once again panting, muscles tensed under smooth plastic. “Oops,” she giggles. “Butterfingers.”

You can only stare, heart skipping a beat. She couldn’t possibly have–

“Let me help you with that.”

In seconds, she discards you of any remaining pieces of clothing, holding you upright in all your naked glory. Still dizzy from everything, the touches, the words, you don’t say anything.

“Well then.” She tilts her head to the side. “Spider got your tongue?”

As latex-clad fingers dip inside your mouth before you can even muster a clever answer, you let out a moan, obsessed with the slick feeling of spit on her gloves. Lost in thought, a smooth arm soon takes its rightful place on your groin, pocking, rubbing and your sex glistens, sticky and sensitive to the air. Octavius keeps pressing her fingers down your tongue, sampling every single strand of your DNA when she pulls them away. Now that she’s so close, you can see her green eyes through her goggles. Wait, green?

“Have I finally broken you, little spider?”

Her laugh is supposed to be taunting but it just releases another spike of arousal through your whole body as if she somehow managed to alter your genes, confuse every nerve. Your entire self had changed with a single bite from a radioactive spider, who said you couldn’t go through the same process all over again?

“Not by a long shot,” you chuckle breathlessly.

“If I’d known it’d be this easy…” Her wet fingers graze against a hard nipple and you bite your tongue to not release another embarrassing noise. “Perhaps your Otto should take lessons.”

You let out a breathy moan, weak against the surge of all those sensory attacks and perhaps from the superposition of brown and green, tiptoeing the leyline linking her universe to yours. Unlike him, she seems to see right through you, deciphering the codex of your fantasies with a single look.

“You should describe him to me.”

“What?” you sutter. “What for–”

The twist sears through you, making your knees shake, pleasure distorting pain. The actuator against your throat tightens imperceptibly, just enough to make you remember its presence.

“Come on,” she whispers. “Are we alike?”

You scoff. “Not at all. He’s…”

A pain in the ass. Always in the way, always stealing money, always speaking about grand schemes and higher purposes. Completely mad, a total whacko, undeniably intelligent, brilliant–

“Tall.”

It makes her laugh. The touch of the actuators against your feverish skin is almost enough to cool it down. “And?”

“Uh, large?” you mutter. “He’s like a mountain or– something…”

One hand keeps playing with your nipples as the other traces random figures along your stomach which, you realize, aren’t random at all but just the complex network of your battle marks. When she runs a finger along the scar adorning your torso, you gasp softly and her gaze is all-knowing. Octavius drives you insane, and you’ll soon be complete putty in her hands, using your body as she pleases while you’re assaulted with visions of large hands and uncovered skin.

“He has uh…”

Get a fucking grip.

“Uh, he has short brown hair.”

You realize that her spit-covered fingers have travelled all the way down when she uncaringly presses a digit inside. Breath knocked out of your chest, you still hiss at the dry and unpleasant sensation but the lone actuator is quick to distract you again. When you think you had enough time to gather all your unholy thoughts and the remnants of your oxygen, her finger is joined by another, spreading you open.

“What else?” she asks, focused on her task.

You sigh, annoyed. “He has brown eyes–”

The actuator’s head suddenly splits open, revealing four small appendages and the opening of the tube that controls it. It stares at you, almost mocking, and you can’t take your eyes off it before it starts to dip down.

“Wait, wait, what do you think you’re doing–”

The echo of Octavius’ laugh is registered far at the back of your mind as the arm traps the entirety of your sex like the mouth of a carnivorous plant on a powerless bug. You feel it suck, making you throb, sputtering everywhere. The rippling of the plastic membrane makes it look alive as if it was waiting to swallow everything your body has to offer.

“Whe– where they even– fuck!, designed for th–ah!”

Octavius retreats her fingers, laughing again before getting rid of her right glove with her teeth. You try not to dwell on how filthy it is.

Fuck, it’s the filthiest thing you’ve ever seen.

The suction on your crotch increases and now you can only pant, gasp and droll everywhere. It's a sensation like no other, making you ignore everything else. Nails dip in your cheeks as Octavius grabs your chin to look at you, pride of your current state written all over her face.

“His eyes, you said?”

You want to kill her. “His– eyes?”

“Yes.” She giggles. “I don’t think you finished your sentence.”

You want to kiss her.

The actuator around your throat releases you, leaving you gasping for air. But your relief is brief as it soon slides against your loosened hole, slowly but surely pressing in.

‘They’re– they’re,” you stutter, arching towards her, brain devoid of any coherence. “Brown?”

She grips your face more forcefully and every sensation suddenly comes to a stop. “Have your brain already melted through your ears?”

You whine. “Ok, ok– they’re big, too gentle even–”

She smiles, a predatory thing. Aren’t spiders supposed to be predators? One good, strong suction on your crotch has you moaning so loudly you’re afraid all Achemax will come running in. “Beautiful– he’s–”

The actuator pushes inside smoothly, leaving you a shaking mess, split apart by the chaos of sensations running underneath your skin. No casual sexual encounter could have ever brought you to such a delightful, painfully aroused state. Your senses are attacked, assaulted from every direction as you’re watched, dissected under the gaze of an enemy. Octavius takes immense pleasure watching you completely surrender to her, and you can’t not picture the smug crooked smile of her counterpart in the wrinkles at the corner of her lips. There’s a lot that you could question about yourself if you hadn’t left your higher brain functions under the hands – and the tentacles, of a magnificent opponent.

“I think you have some self-reflection to do, little spider.”

You register the press of her lips late. Still holding your chin in a death grip, she kisses you like a snake strikes its prey. Eyes rolling back as she sinks her teeth into your lower lip, you arch strongly towards her, arms hurting for being held down for so long, legs spasming and chest heaving. Her tongue plunges into your mouth and she sucks at your lips not unlike how her actuators pump in and out of you, suck you dry, drive you insane…

Suddenly, she draws back, exhaling harshly against your reddened lips and you can feel her body moving forward. You only have the time to register that her hips are trusting against the actuator stuck to your crotch before she grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls harshly.

“Come on,” she pants in the crook of your neck. “Break down, sweetheart.”

You come like this, lightning travelling up your spine as you release on the mouth of the actuator, overstimulated by the trusts inside of you and the feeling of Octavius’ teeth on your skin. You spasm like an insect trapped in a web, a mouse constricted by the body of a python, arching, trusting your hips up over and over as the arm milks your orgasm out of you. Your throat is raw, your tongue is heavy and all your muscles scream from overuse but you just can’t stop coming, wetness spreading against your groin. When the actuators finally move away, you drip all over the floor, as your sex pulses, crimson red and spent.

Breathing air like it’s the first time, you try your best to calm your beating heart as you’re finally free from the arms’ grip, lowered on a nearby chair. Octavius lets out a sigh, tugging a rebellious strand of hair behind her ear.

“Oh well.” She smiles. “Good, very good.”

She throws your suit at your face. “You better run, little spider.”

“Uh?” You put it back, ignoring the uncomfortable stickiness between your thighs.

“This is my gift to you,” she says, putting on a clean glove. “You have five minutes before I hunt you down and use your body for my experiments.”

You laugh awkwardly, voice rough as you limp through the room. “I’ll be gone then. See ya, Doc!”

The giggle she lets out is hunting. As you swing away to central New York, the traces of her abuse all over your body, you think about your Octavius.

Perhaps you’ll try a new technique next time you meet.

[gffa]

I saw your post defending the way Jedi adopt the children/accept them into their culture, and I absolutely loved it! It was so well-informed, and you are right: It is all there in the original content!

I find it very ironic that many people spew these lies about the Jedi when that’s exactly what the Empire did. Iirc, this argument of Jedi being “kidnappers” was actually fueled by Emperor Palpatine and the Empire in their campaign against the Jedi. They wanted to discredit them and make the people turn against them so that they could erase them all more easily. So I find it very ironic that these lies are now being upheld by some people as the truth. (Really, have people forgotten the Empire was created bases on the Nazi’s and their own racist strategies?)

You are not inmune to the Empire’s propaganda.

Please correct me if I’m wrong. I’m not as good at pulling examples and proof from all the SW content as you are.

Hi! Thank you for the very sweet ask! Navigating stuff in fandom like this can be difficult at times, because there has to be room for compassion and tolerance for disagreement, like it's fine if people disagree with my views, I'm not your mom, I'm not telling you want to do or say, especially since this is fiction, these are made up space stories. But there also has to be room to understand that sometimes our commentary on fictional stories are echoes of reflection of real world attitudes--we can't just go around spewing racist, sexist, homophobic commentary and be like, "It's just fiction, you can't get upset!" There's no easy line for any of this, no single hard set in stone rule for when it's truly just fiction and when it's an echo of a real world attitude, especially in Star Wars, which often draws influence from a lot of non-Western sources and traditional Western sources. (My general rule of thumb is: I think it's fair to criticize those things through the influences they have, but if your criticism is then ended with, "So that's why we shouldn't have or acknowledge any Buddhism/Black people/queer people/women in Star Wars!" then fuck right on off with that.) And I also understand a lot of the anti-Jedi attitudes (or at least what I've personally experienced of them) because I've talked a bunch of times about how I started out as pretty Jedi-critical myself! I did the whole, "They had grown stagnant and refused to evolve with the galaxy, so they needed to be wiped out." thing because nobody had framed it explicitly as what it was: a genocide. It wasn't until a friend and I were talking and they mentioned that lens of it that it just sort of crashed down on me, oh, that's literally what it was and genocide is never justifiable. I did the whole, "The Jedi failed Anakin and taught him to repress his emotions." thing as well, because I saw it all over the place in fandom and just automatically folded it into my view, until I went back and actually watched Lucas' movies and Lucas' animation (first six movies + first six seasons of TCW) and read his interviews, which blew me onto my ass when I saw Obi-Wan being supportive of Anakin, when I saw Anakin not listening to the advice he was given, when I saw that Jedi were expressing emotion all over the place, when I saw they were respecting other Force traditions in the galaxy. I can't speak to why so many people think badly of the Jedi, there's probably a thousand reasons and I'm only vaguely aware of like half of them, but I do think that it's often unpopular to promote the idea of emotional regulation already being achieved, instead of something to be struggled with. I think we're all primed by a lot of mainstream media saying that an explosion of anger is what will save the day. I think there's so much anger in the world today that we're all angry and being told to let go of it feels really insulting at times. (But, as someone who has lost years of my life when I was younger to anger, I gotta say, I am so much better off having let go of as much of that shit as I can. It was poison in my veins, carrying that anger around. I lost so many friendships and opportunities and just time to being miserably mad about stuff.)

I'm getting off topic of the kidnapping aspect about the Jedi, but a lot of it starts to swirl together in what I've experienced (especially people who try to put this stuff on my posts--thankfully, that's died down/I block the people who won't respect boundaries) and so I kind of bounce from one aspect of it to another.

I do think it's good to talk about these things--both from "it's fun to analyze the content of the story on a meta level" perspective and "here's how this echoes into and from the real world" perspective, like I enjoy saying, okay, here's what's actually said in the movies/TCW, but also I think talking about how the Jedi are Buddhist influenced is important because that means they're going to have values that are meant to be reflected in that and Western fandom has a really big problem of being derisive about non-Western influences or automatically saying they're wrong. (I come from anime/manga fandoms, let me tell you, it's a big problem.)

And, yeah, in a way where it's really awful, but I think one of the most well-done things Disney's Star Wars has done is that it's really focused on showing that the Empire was a fascist one and the propaganda they used about the Jedi are ones that are super relevant to the conversation.