#the guns would be webs or something

[autismnation]

if i could draw i would turn this into spiderdads

[transgenbur]

mcytblr dash simulator

mutual 1 : [ REDACTED ]

mutual 2 : THE EGGS ARE GONE

mutual 3 : hello everyone today i will be putting my son (ctommy) in an enclosure and wrapping him in a warm blanket and giving him a cup of hot cocoa

mutual 4 : people who woobify ctommy piss me the fuck off. man up

mutual 5 : guys i got the lovejoy vinyl cards

mutual 6 : what kind of lingerie would ctntduo wear to kill each other?

mutual 7 : i need some advil and to be shot in the head [attached is the most gutting tragic piece of crimeboys fanart you've ever seen]

mutual 8 : THE EGGS ARE GONE AGAIN

mutual 9 : Twitch And The Modern Day Fan/Creator Relationship : A Socio-Psychological Analysis

mutual 10 : our little band isn't so little anymore...

mutual 11 : and here's how i think pregnancy would work for a minecraft demon hybrid

mutual 12 : stunning web weave about cniki and loneliness and friendship and guys she started to bake again guys do you understand

mutual 13 : dapduo making out sloppy style (they get slime everywhere)

mutual 14 : haha hat man [fanart of philza minecraft that looks like something you'd see wandering the halls of the louvre]

mutual 15 : i just want a gun so i can put a bullet through dream's head

mutual 16 : THE FUCKING EGGS

[yawnderu]

I'm sorry but being with simon at the beginning of a relationship would be so awkward.💀

Like...

You can't take pics, you can't know about his routine, you can't know about his work and so goes on.

So or are you with him for the cock or because you have the syndrome of falling in love with strange men

>This turned into a mini character study. 😔🗣️

Good dick has taken you places you wouldn't even go to with a gun.

Simon is a kind man. Truly, he is. He's just... slightly strange. You don't know much about him other than the fact that he has served in the military— something he never even told you, you simply guessed by the dogtags he never takes off and the plethora of scars adorning his pale body, a privilege you didn't get until he realized he could trust you... for the most part.

For a man like Simon, vulnerability was nothing but a highly-desired privilege. Something he wouldn't allow himself to have ever again, hiding his face under different masks that caused the reactions he was looking for— intimidation and fear, the skulls doing nothing more than serving the purpose of representing all he was, a ghost. A man who died a long time ago, way before he was tortured by the greedy, cruel hands of Manuel Roba.

It's not that Simon doesn't love you, he simply doesn't know how to allow himself to be vulnerable. How to put down the walls he spent a lifetime building, serving as shelter from his father's abuse, nothing but a mere way of shielding the broken pieces of his soul, not allowing anyone to trample what little he had left.

... not until you came, at least. Sweet little thing, never moving away from his side even when Simon told you nothing good comes from men like him. Perhaps it's unfair, yet Simon only warned you once. Had a long chat with you about how you could do better— only for you to find yourself already tangled on his web, unable to leave even if you wanted to... and good for him, because the idea of leaving him never once crossed your mind no matter how difficult he could be.

For you, it was a test of patience and care, wanting to peel every single layer of the man Simon Riley is, yet for him, it's a new chance at life. The holy light, in a way, guiding him into a path he never found himself roaming, a path he never even thought he'd have the chance to see, not when he was such a tainted, dirty man, sins that would last him a lifetime easily forgotten the moment your arms wrap around him, holding him with such tenderness one would've thought he's made of expensive fine china rather than scar tissue and trauma.

It's not like Simon is a bad partner— quite the opposite, truly. He has a way with words, reassuring you that there'll be a time where he's able to reveal more about himself and what he does, having a scheduled delivery of flowers and food almost every day he's gone, wanting to keep you happy even when he's on the other side of the world, gaining more enemies by the day.

... And yet he is not afraid anymore. His enemies die with Ghost, by his punishing hand or that of an ally. The moment the mask comes off, he's your Simon. Yours and only yours, never even allowing himself to look at other women, he has the most gorgeous one by his side, one that loves him with all she has, making him feel like a proper lad for the first time in his life.

[loaksbitch]

originally jake sully written but made a neteyam ver. let's go let's go.

warnings - size kink, tummy bulging, spitting, breast play kinda, getting your hands held behind you, toruk makto neteyam is enough to be a freaking warning yes? riding, whiny and crying oc, neteyam whimpers like once of twice if you squint, mean neteyam turns to soft neteyam at the end

this is roughly 2k y'all, so idk what to feel about it! reblog + likes are appreciated and not pressured, i love each and every one of you!! mwah. 20ish toruk makto!neteyam

“i’ll make it fit” — neteyam sully ver. (⨳)

you’re finally satisfied with your work, twirling around with a smile. the leaves you made as a sexy cloth that barley covered your body didn’t fail you as you feel something if you churn at the thought of greeting your mate with this

neteyam would be back by the eclipse from the war party and you just can’t wait to show him off about your new creations.

the glowing leaves allover your chest and ghosting your nipples as they reflect their light on your blue striped soft skin. and there’s a web like cloth covering you down there that clearly shows the jewels between your leg.

as the night came on, you couldn’t help but feel nervous and insecurity starts to sip in you.

what if he doesn’t like it? what if he’ll laugh at you? what if— enough! you try to focus on your breath. “it’s gonna turn out good.” you comfort yourself. your ears suddenly perk when you catch a familiar footsteps getting near and near to the hammock you share with your mate and decide to hide quickly

meanwhile you’re hidden, neteyam couldn’t keep feeling instant worries when he didn’t see you at the welcoming session. were you sick? he tried to ask your friends but they just shrugged and said they didn’t see you the whole day

neteyam admits he was pretty excited to see you and waited for you to shower him with kisses to make him feel better and less stressed but no, you weren’t even there.

it was dark when he entered the hammock and frowned, the candles were blown out and everything is neatly set. “princess?” neteyam’s voice was calculated with worries. “i’m home, where are you?”

you’re nervously shuffling from one foot to another. “baby if this is one of your jokes you know i’m tir–“ neteyam’s words get stuck when you come to view. at first he was about to load his gun but the feminine and petite body of yours appears in front of him and your man’s breath hitched at the sight of you

your braids were undone and flawlessly splayed allover your shoulders, his eyes are trained down your body and neteyam curses under his breath as his cock stirs and twitches. the valley between your chest and your two swelled breast shown under the glowing leaves you’re wearing

then his eyes go down to your hip curves and small waist and finally to your thighs that he wants to be choked with. “ma ‘teyam.” your sexy voice makes his ears flatten and he closes his eyes. “fuck princess, what’re you supposed to be doing right now?”

you shyly glance behind him then at him. your eyes widen when the equipments are harshly thrown to the side on the hammock mat and neteyam is walking to you with a burning lust in his eyes

“i’ll just tak…” neteyam’s teeth clash to yours as he shuts you up with toe curling kiss. you can’t even form a word when he’s pulling you by your cheeks and neck desperate to have more of you. you turn your head to the side to take a breath but neteyam takes the chance to leave wet kisses on your neck as he bites and licks the spot, marking you in ways that makes you sigh.

“you didn’t come to welcome me baby,” he says before pressing his forehead to yours while you two take deep breathes from the kiss you’ve shared. “i was searching for you” he slightly pouts making you guilty

“sorry baby, i had to make a welcoming present for you.” he hums with a smile plastered on his face. “this is the best gift ever.” he leans to kiss you as he bends slightly and grip onto your thighs

“jump, pretty girl.” you only giggle before jumping to your mate’s hold. he starts to kiss you and you devilishly mess with his hair. you run your hands through it and grip on his locks hard making neteyam moan into your mouth.

as your body settles to the thick mat of the hammock and neteyam pushes your legs open to settle himself in between them, you start to feel a little too insecure. “i’ve dreamt of this for so long baby, you’ve no idea.” you gulp when he continues

“having you under me, on top of me, in every fucking position with this glowing like loincloth you made allover you.” he tells you softly, his lips pressed on the corner of your lips.

you try to sit up and go along with his kiss but neteyam leans back and pushes you back to the mat, making you huff out. you’re watching every move of his when he starts to trail kisses on your chest.

“nete, jus–“

you moan when his mouth engulfs your perked nipple with his warm mouth and sucks gently. “neteyam, ma ‘teyeam…” you sigh, tiny hands returning to his locks. his other hand is holding the glowing leaves that were covering your breast out of the way before starting to massage your breast well and let your nipple roll between his fingers.

it felt so good that had you arching your back, chest pressing to his face. neteyam leaves your nipple with small ‘pop’ sound and watches how his saliva reflects to glowing leaves lights on your nipple. “stay still baby.” he shifts his attention to the other nipple and starts to slowly tug it with his teeth before putting his whole mouth onto your nipple

“oh eywa!” you sigh.

“princess?” you’re gasping when he’s on top of you and gently smiling. “i want you to touch me too, i want you to show me how i make you feel with your hands, yeah?” you’re only able to nod while your mate is fully clothed and you’re almost naked

“good girl.”

you feel him start to trail a kiss down your stomach a to your navel. once he was in front of your web like fabric that’s covering your pussy, he closes his eyes and takes a breath before using his teeth to slide off the web like loincloth from your body.

you can imagine how his erected cock is begging to be free and looking for attention.

neteyam used his hand to rip off the fabric that’s being a wall from getting what he wanted and deep growl from he chest haves when he sees your arousal creating a thin line and connected to the fabric. oh how he wanted to devour you so bad

the thing is removed from your legs and thrown to the side and neteyam presses your legs wider to see your folds slowly open and your clit throb. oh how your scent is driving him nuts. “you’re so wet.” he says and you’re about to talk before he wraps his mouth on your clit and starts to suck. hard.

“NETEYAM!” you cry out, half of your body jolting up when he tugs on your clit with his teeth. you feel him take a long sniff and moan before plunging his tongue to your hole. “oh mother,” your long moan makes his ego boost and he keeps lapping your juices

your hands are on his locks now, tugging hard and grinding him onto your pussy, but his glare was telling you he wants to drag you there by himself.

your hips risen and gets pressed down with your mate’s large palm below your navel. “let me make you cum.” was the only thing he said before ruining you. his nose grinding onto your throbbing clit while he laps your arousal clean with his tongue fucking you deep.

“ngh..!” you’re now pushing his head away but one strong hand grabs yours and throws it to the side. he’s getting frustrated when you keep pushing him away from making you happiest woman alive.

your chest having up and down was a sign to tell him you’re almost there, and neteyam grins in the middle of tongue fucking you. “that’s it baby, cum for me. cum for your ‘teyam.” and you let go.

back arched, you let go of the bubble in your stomach.

neteyam? he’s so mesmerized by your state and how you’re gushing his face had him completely bricked up right now.

neteyam crawls the mat until he’s your face level and your cheeks redden from the sight. his lips and chin is glistening from your release that shines from the light directly coming out from the moon. neteyam used his arm to wipe your arousal from his face.

he didn’t waste anytime as he unties his loincloth and throw it to the side. your inside clenches at the sight of your man’s cock as it sprang and slaps his stomach before bouncing at the freedom.

it’s veiny and you can’t help but moan when neteyam uses his own hands to bring his cock down and palm himself. “so fucking sexy you are.” he tells you as he stares to your soul, “you drive me insane, everything about you… drives me insane.” he whines when his thumb gilded over his own slit.

“shit, need to be inside you.” at his words you spread your legs wide but frown when neteyam shook his head and got out from in between your legs. “where are you going?” he wasn’t even going anywhere

your confused state follows his actions and neteyam lies beside you on his back and turns to you, tapping you thigh. “c’mere” he pulls you to him and your eyes widen understanding his request. “n-no.” you’re only ignored before you feel yourself being pulled and sat on him.

you’re now straddling him as you’re sat right above his blue throbbing cock. “you’re gonna be so deep like this” you say trying to change his mind but your words only turn him on. “mhm, it’s gonna be okay.”

“‘teyam, it won’t fit…” you persist and try to get up but neteyam pulls you down. “i’ll make it fit.” your inside clenches. “oh,” your mouth opens for a loud moan when neteyam squeezes your ass and split them for his hard and angry tip to enter you.

“swallow me just like that, fuck yeah baby.” you winch every second you welcome him inside you. it’s not like you guys haven’t had sex recently, you both did fuck yesterday morning but he’s so big you’ve to readjust him and take him well every time he fucks in to yo-

“neteyam!” you gasp out when he thrusts upward and chuckles when you slap his chest hard. “you’re so slow, princess and i told ya i need to be inside you.” you whimper when he runs his hand up to your thighs and hips then waist and grips you right there.

you feel his girth kiss the opening of your cervix and your toes curl. “that’s it baby, relax for me” you’re taking deep breath and your man feels your walls relax around him. “arch your back and ride me.” he deadpans

you nod, eyes wide and adjust yourself on top of him enough to lean and use the wooden drawer behind him as a leverage but you instantly let a sharp scream out them neteyam ruts to you up again but this time harder

“nuh-uh princess.” he licks his lips and sighs in between strangled moan. “i said back arched.” his brows are knitted and his face serious. “need you to ride me with your back arched.”

you’re about to curse him before he raise an eyebrow as a warning.

you lick your lips and decide to be a good girl by arching you back and using your hands to support you by placing them on his chest. you’re slow but start to move your hips and neteyam nods while moaning

“yeah that’s it my girl, fuck me just like that.” you can’t even say a word at his praising that are like a pat on your head. your unintentional clench only pushes him to the edge every time you’re moving on top of him.

“you’re so tight.” he tells you with a breathless moan as you raise up and kneel before sinking down his length. “mhm,” you both moan. you’re shuddering above him with every move you make and you try to lean in to him.

“back arched, fuck me back arched princess” he repeats, he’s so gonna be the death of you.

you’re too unfocused to hear him and eventually lean. “fucking little brat.” neteyam hisses before bringing his body up and kneeling as you’re sat on his strong thighs while he’s inside you

you feel him bring both of your hands to your back and holds them both with one hand while the other lands on your waist and pushes you to his chest. you’re now bent in half, breast pressed to him and hands held behind you

you close your eyes tight when you feel neteyam so much deeper than before and you’re sure you can feel your tummy bulged out with his cock like that.

“look at me.”

you didn’t think twice before opening your yellow eyes and look straight to his. “not gonna tell you again or imma have to break you alright?” his tone is serious. “you ride me with your back arched got it?” you’re awfully silent but yelp as he tugs your hands that’s behind you

“yes!” you gasp but he wasn’t buying your whining self. “yes what?” he huffs “yes! yes sir” your forehead is sweating and you let a relieved sigh out when he loosens his grip on yours but doesn’t completely lets you go

with your back arched, you start to bounce on his dick and hear him mutter sweet nothings to your ear. “ma ‘teyam”, you’re whimpering at this point, tears threatening to fall.

you moan while neteyam leans and boldly licks your mouth and starts to thrust, wildly moving his hips. “n-no wait don’t move!”

you’re trying to free your hand to push him away but neteyam only tightens his hands on your small ones. “trying to escape now, are we?” his chest roars with a chuckle. “you think i’ll let you go right after you greet me with that slutty cloth of yours?” you feel him nudge your nose with his.

“mhm?” you shake your head, “no s-sir…oh mother eywa!” you keep gasping for air while neteyam keeps kissing you. you try to turn your face away from him but his one hand comes to grip your jaw at a place. “stop turning away from my love to you.” he’s so romantic yet wicked.

neteyam ruts to you while ruining you and he leans back to see where you both are connected, your skin slapping and squelching sound helps him get near his orgasm. with one last look at your face, neteyam sucks onto his own mouth and collect a glob of spit

you’re whining messy when his spit directly hits your exposed clit, “ma ‘teyam...” you cry out and by the sound you’re letting out and your erratic movement he knew you’re close

“let it out, baby.” he smiles as he fucks into you. “cum for me” you wanted to tell him at least to stop when you’re cumming but his tortures can’t even let you think of a word, your brain is completely mushed.

you gush out on his cock and neteyam throws his head back when he feels you milk him good. “oh fuck fuck fuck i’m close.”

you watch him with blurry eyes and black dots covering your vision as your body keeps jolting.

“tell me you love me baby.” his harsh breath hits your lips when he pressed his forehead against yours. “tell me you love me so fucking much hm?”

“i- i lov…i love you” you’re gasping for air and neteyam closes his eyes a happy smile stretching his lips. “i love you more, i love you so fucking much” you feel his hand that was holding your hand being you let’s you go and you instantly wrap your hands on his neck

“‘m sorry i hurt you princess.” neteyam says, tucking your hair behind your ear and you just nod too tired to talk back. “i’m gonna cum” his eyes flatten and he whispers. “cum for me” you tell him and he obeys

it was his last push when you said that word and neteyam shoots ropes of cum inside you. “you’re tiny and adorable when you struggle against me” he growls trying to recover from his orgasm

“and you looked beautiful tonight.” you giggle and shy yourself away from him. “hm, no look at me when i tell you how amazing you’re.” he kisses your nose.

“i love you” he whispers still inside you. “i love you too.” you kiss him.

neteyam rolls his eyes at your confession, “don’t say ‘too’ it feels like you’re just agreeing with me to feel good.” he’s so dramatic sometimes, “fine, i love you more.” neteyam suddenly gives you a hard thrust and you whine. “‘teyam i’m sore!” you tell him

“hm, sorry but i love you most and you know that.”

you don’t fight back at this point, you just agree and tell him to clean you up and go to bed.

sprinkles pandora’s holy water on y’all thirsty bitches out there who’s twinning with me 👯‍♂️

[deadsetobsessions]

Listen, I know it’s not my usual thing, but I just re-read Dark Matter by mysterycyclone (iconic, so good, incredible, I’ve reread this at least ten times) and this newer work, Help Me, I Don’t Feel Like Myself Anymore by Astra_Nova_Kat (it’s off to a really good and fleshed out, very long start- it’s like 20k for the first chapter omg).

I just. Love?? Them??? They’re both, urg, so good. The writing style, the way the story moves, the natural progression of plot and their usage of tropes are so well done that rarely does it feel awkward. Amazing. Anyways, they inspired me to put my two cents into the proverbial offering hat and while this might not ever be a realized fanfic, here it is? This will have multiple parts.

Uh, I’m basing Peter’s personality off of the really tired millennial energy Tobey Maguire gives, the awkward but well meaning disaster vibes of Andrew Garfield, and the sassy acrobatic chaos gremlin of Tom Holland. All kind of mushed together with the hyper competence and maturity of both the PS4 spidey and pretty much most spider people. He’s 22, or something but that doesn’t really matter?? Background doesn’t really matter because I’m basically making my own spider-verse. Spider… past? Eh. New Peter!

Spider in Gotham AU- Pt.1

[Pt.2]

——

Spider-Man swung through the skyscrapers of his city, enjoying the winds and sounds of New York as he kept a sharp eye out for crime.

He remembered doing this without any of the fancy tech his suit had now, when he was dressed in less protective clothing. God, 100% cotton while crime fighting? The spandex was better but god ugly.

His spider-sense blared. Spider-man quickly shot a web to the top of the building, going towards the danger instead of away from it.

He goes in feet first, years of knocking common thugs to legitimate gods to the ground making short work of the people on the roof top. He flips out of the way, dodging a blast of crackling green energy.

“Heyyyy, common robbers! What’s up with shiny lasers, huh? Breaking and entering not doing enough for ya?”

Spider-Man dodges a couple more shots, flipping again to knee a guy in the face, gently. The man goes down in one shot.

“Stay still, you motherfucker!”

“Does that actually work for you guys?? Like I’m down to get killed but, man, I’m not gonna stay still to get downed by some two bit thugs?” Spider-Man kept his words light and mocking, webbing up a laser gun and yanking it out of the woman’s hands. He punches her in the face and knocks her out, using the laser gun like a mildly bulky baton.

“Eat shit, Spider-bitch!”

“Ouch! Oh no, my feelings! You’ve hurt them!” Spider-Man shoots a web at the lady who’d shouted and yanked, before smacking her straight down to the concrete of the rooftop. His hearing picked up two people coming up the stairway and Spider-Man tossed two web bombs, the metal mechanism attached itself to the wall, waiting for their unknowing victims.

Spider-Man ducked and weaved, downing goons as they piled on him while shooting bullets, lasers, and just charging at him with a bat or a crowbar. After eight years of pretty much this exact thing, Spider-Man had gotten the science of breaking up goon dog piles without hurting them too much to an exact measurement. He quipped at them until they got annoyed, which made them sloppy. Spider-Man sighed as another guy came at him with a crow bar and a gun that he was pretty sure was still stuck on safety. He crouched, kicking out their legs and dodging a swipe of a bat where his ribs would have been and webbed the guy to the floor. Yeah, he’ll wrap this up and end patrol. Maybe he still had Mac n’ Cheese at home, or he could stop by Angelo’s for a sub?

Huh. His options for dinner was limited.

“Take this!”

Even without the forewarning of his spidey-sense, Spider-Man would have ducked out of the way regardless.

“Shouting your sneak attacks isn’t actually all that sneaky, you know!” Spider-Man kept his voice cheery and mocking.

“Get him!”

God, why were there so many people trying to break into an insurance company? This definitely doesn’t smell like a regular B&E. With the shit he’s seen in New York, if it smells like a plot, acts like a plot, then it’s probably a villain with a tragic backstory with big, annoying plans.

Great.

Oh, speak of the devil!

“Spider-Man.” His senses blared.

He couldn’t move out of the way fast enough, not without risking the life of the goon he was currently fighting, so Spider-Man took the blast the punched the breath out of his lungs. The wide eyes of the goon made up for some of the pain.

“Ugh!” Spider-Man slammed into an HVAC, denting the metal. His suit, made special polymer blend from Wakanda that he saved for months to get, absorbed some of the shock. Shit, he hoped it didn’t tear. It would be a bitch and a half to dip into the back up stock he had in his hammer space.

The goons left standing quickly rushed him and held him down to face the new boss.

“You’ve been getting on my nerves, Spider.”

“Yeah,” Spider-Man coughed out, letting the two goons think they could hold him down on his knees as he recovered his breath. “I have that effect on people.”

“But you could be an asset, if you’d join me?”

“Uh, I don’t join or sign things without knowing what I’m joining or signing, my guy. My lawyer said so.”

The villain paused, helmeted head cocking to the side.

“You have a lawyer?”

“Yeah. Kind of? He does pro-bono work for the helpless cases. You know, like, a well meaning, crime fighting vigilante?”

“…Does he do cases against insurance companies?”

“Oh man, you too? Dude, this place sucks,” Spider-Man sighed.

“You’ve had trouble too? Then you must see why I’m doing this!”

This was a bit weird, but if there’s anything that brings people together, it’d be corrupt insurance companies. He’s almost tempted to let them break in, just to be extra petty.

“Nah, my neighbor? Sweet old lady. They’re screwing her out of her entire place. I totally get it, man. Hey, if you need a referral, you can tell my lawyer that Spider sent you. He’s real good.”

“How good?” The goons release him and Spider-Man stood up, stretching his limbs.

“Like, Dare Devil good.”

“You know Matt Murdock??”

“Sure do.”

“He… he’ll take on our cases?”

“Dang, all of you?”

“Yes. We can pool enough money to pay him for one or two.”

“Nah, I’m pretty sure he’ll take you guys on for free. But it wouldn’t hurt if you all went to meet him, just so he can decide which one of you has a higher chance to win in court?”

“We will. Uh.” The villain paused sheepishly. Well, not a villain, more like an unfortunately angry and poor decision making citizen. “Sorry about… you know, the blast.”

“It’s cool. I mean,” Spider-Man gestured to the rooftop, the bodies of unconscious people kind of laying around where he knocked them down. “You guys might wanna check on them, yeah? I’ll let you go for now, but if you commit a B&E again, I’ll leave you webbed up for GCPD to find.”

“Got it. Sorry.”

Feeling good about himself, and plotting corporate espionage, Spider-Man went to help pry some people from his webs.

And of course, because Parker Luck kicks in only when Spider-Man felt like life was looking up for himself, Spider-Man’s senses blared once more as he knelt down to pull at some webbing.

“Oh, shit!” He heard, right before a cold blast of something slammed right into his head, knocking him out.

And Spider-Man

F

E

L

L.

——

Larry looked at the the empty space where Spider-Man, the guy who took a hit from his boss’ blaster so he wouldn’t get hurt, used to be.

He twisted.

“Boss, what the fuck?!”

“Shit! That was accident!” Boss pulled herself up from the concrete, where she just ate dirt.

“Where did he go?”

“I don’t know, Larry! That was the experimental warped mode! Crap!” His boss scrambled with the controls, desperately trying to see if the magic gun her magician friend had handed her years ago had a reverse button. It didn’t.

“Why would you bring a test weapon into the field?!”

“I gave you all of my other ones!” She threw up her hands. “Fuck, I feel so bad.”

Larry paled. “Dude, Dare Devil’s gonna kill us.”

“He doesn’t kill!” His boss hesitated. “I think.”

Larry pointed to the empty space. “Yeah? He might start with us. Spidey was a cool guy and you just disappeared him!”

“I know!”

Larry buried his head into his hands and tried not to hate himself for the entire situation.

——

Spider-man woke up, laid flat on the grimy ground of an alleyway.

“Ugh. Just my luck.” He kept his eyes closed for just a beat longer to allow himself time before having to pull his shit together. Why was his voice high? And a bit squeaky? He pulled himself together.

“Okay.” He whispered to himself, before sitting up and taking stock of the situation.

First thing that hit him was that it stunk to high heavens. Gagging, Spider-Man looked to the right and- yeah, that’ll do it. He stood up on wobbly legs to try to move away from the overflowing dumpster.

That’s when the second, more important and decidedly more troublesome, observation hit him.

He’s short. Shorter. And his suit was hanging off of him.

He could tell he still had his normal by now physiology, with the speeding heartbeat and the feeling of super strength. But he’s shorter. With a mounting sense of equal parts dread and resignation, he pulled at the hidden seam by his nape, relying on his both his enhanced senses and spidey-sense to tell if anyone was nearby or looking at him. He pulled the Spider-Man suit off, blankly folding it neatly as he stared dumbly at his hands. They’re small too. Shit. He stumbled to a nearby mud puddle and stared down, seeing his younger face in the contaminated water. Double shit.

He’s starting to loose his composure. He’d gone through a lot of bizarre things over the last eight years. But getting accidentally Detective Conan’ed by a person he just helped was a new low.

The black under layer of his suit, a slash proof and fire resistant polymer Peter had designed himself in MIT’s lab, was in a similar state.

With one hand, Peter Parker numbly rolled up his sleeves and pant hems. Great. Okay. Now what?

Ah. Shoes. He did not want to walk around in his too-big Spider-Man boots. He looked around. Well, there’s the laces of what looked to be like a pair of dumpster shoes. “Yeah, no.”

Shit. Does he still have access to his hammer space?

Peter reached into his pocket, and tried to reach for a pair of normal sneakers. His shoulder slumped as he produced a pair. Fuck yes. He still has access! And shoes! They’re ones he took off of a power line for a well off kid who didn’t want it anymore. He was going to donate them to F. E. A. S. T. but he’s thanking the stars he procrastinated a bit on swinging by the center. He put them on. They’re a bit big, but it’s better than the giant-in-comparison ones he normally wears. You know, as an adult.

He hesitated with his mask. He should at least figure out where he is. He hoped it was still in the states. His mask blinked, the HUD in his lenses informing him that it was trying to find a connection. “That’s weird.” He paused, grimacing at the sound of his voice. But it is weird, because he had his mask automatically connected to the world wide satellites Tony Stark had sent circling the globe for citizens without internet access as a back up option. So either he was somewhere even the Stark Satellites couldn’t reach or…

Peter swallowed, his mask pinging as it found a connection to piggy back on. He clicked his tongue twice to activate the voice controls.

“Connect to the local maps. Where am I?”

His masked followed the order. [Gotham. New Jersey.]

Peter stared at the words, gut churning.

Good news, he was still in the States. Bad news? He’s shrunk, in a totally different state, and possibly in a different world because he’s not connected to the Stark Satellites he knew operated in New Jersey.

Peter Parker tilted his head back and allowed himself one verbal, panic level six and up, curse word.

“Fuck.”

He took off his mask and leaned against a slightly cleaner part of the wall before hyperventilating.

——

Half an hour later, Peter smacked himself on the cheeks and pulled himself together.

“You’re Spider-Man,” he hissed to himself. “Have a mental breakdown somewhere warm, you dumbass.”

Peter Parker was a champion, world class expert at compartmentalization.

He slipped his mask back on, and pulled up his “So You’re Stuck in an Alternate Universe” list he had made with Ned so many years ago when they were high school kids and going through comic books to make contingencies because Peter was a little idiot vigilante hero.

“I didn’t think I’d actually ever need this kind of thing.” Peter muttered. He slipped his black back up gloves on to connect to his mask’s display in order to type.

“Okay,” he glanced at the side by side screens in his lenses. “Money.”

Five things.

1) The emergency cash he’d stashed on him thankfull matched the pictures of cash he’d found on this world’s internet. Yay!

2) He had $1000 tucked away. Not yay. Not if this might be a long term stay before he got back to his own dimension. Not if he wanted a place to sleep.

3) Luckily, thanks to his earlier search of where the hell he was, Peter figured out that due to the high crime rates- “Dang, that’s worse than New York on New Year’s Eve,” he had marveled- Gotham was dirt cheap and that that meant 1k dollars could actually last him a while and he could afford a room for a month on $250. A whole ass apartment for $550. Peter seriously considered staying in this universe just for the rent prices. So what if there’s rampant crimes? He’d deal with it if the rent was that cheap.

4) Problem? He’s fucking tiny. Who would rent to a person that looked like child? Not anyone upstanding, that’s for sure. He’s more likely to get mugged. Counterpoint: he’s in a city where apparently shady people are all around. Also? He doesn’t have an identity.

5) If the fact that he couldn’t connect to the Stark Satellites didn’t convince him he was either in another universe or an alternate dimension, the visual graphics of the websites he visited would. It was like looking at Windows in the early way before Stark Co. bought them out and improved the design. Nauseating.

Okay, so, money’s not too urgent of an issue. Next on Ned’s list: Places of Interest.

Namely, libraries, homeless shelters, crime hotspots, and the like.

Peter snorted when he came across an opinions article talking about how Park Row became Crime Alley. And then he frowned, because that story was not painting this place to be even remotely nice. Then again, considering the crime rates and the various Rogues this place seemed to have in spades, that wasn’t much of a surprise. Peter marks the place in his new mental map of Gotham as a potential area he could either disappear to or get a new identity at. He then marked the libraries, Gotham City Public Library and its many branches all funded by generous donations from a Bruce Wayne, the Martha Wayne foundations’ shelters and charities, two supermarkets near the library, and a coffee shop he thought looked warm and cozy from the shitty pictures they have uploaded online. He needed coffee, dammit, and he needed it hours ago. Alas, he probably wouldn’t get to go to one until he secured his finances.

Well, it’s not like he doesn’t have practice being poor.

3) Which brings him up to Ned’s next, surprisingly reasonable for a teenager hoped up on a mountain load of sugar, point. Level of Tech.

Peter hid next to the dumpster, melding in with the shadows, as he continued his research.

Tech here was… well, he probably wouldn’t have to worry. The thought of not having a Starkphone, even his older model, was painful considering the new versions of these WaynePhones were really… behind. Peter doesn’t remember the last time he had buttons on his phone or let alone a touch screen that didn’t use facial tracking and biometrics or even have a holographic display mode.

“Ugh. Okay. Not the end of the world, Parker.” Peter muttered.

Now… People of Interest.

This was underlined three times with Ned’s red pens, with extensive subcategories.

Subcategory A? Villains, because “what if they put out a warning for a known villain and you get your butt kicked because you didn’t know about them, Peter? Wouldn’t that be embarrassing?”

He had replied, half focused on the list and the other on savoring the Millennium Falcon Lego set May had saved up for months to get him for his birthday, “I feel like if I was getting my butt kicked by a villain, I’d probably have better things to worry about than my utter humiliation, Ned.”

“True that,” Ned had snicked and jotted it down anyways.

And… well, Gotham had a lot of villains. The Joker (ew, that’s a crusty man in crustier face paint. This guy could learn so much from the cool mimes busking in Central Park. Like, how to do face paint. Or how not to be a massive murderous jerk. There’s Clayface, Two-Face, a bald guy in “Metropolis” (a name Peter couldn’t help but snort at because a city named city? That’s like na’an bread being bread bread. Or chai tea being tea tea) named Lex Luthor, and Scarecrow. He tabbed all of them and marked them for further perusal at a later date. From experience, he knew villains with a prominent M.O. and themes usually did more damage. Case in point: Rhino, and the million dollars of property damage the guy did everytime he escaped the Raft. Peter was seriously considering petitioning for the Raft to be placed further out just so he could have more warning the next time some assholes decided to free the prisoners and helped them escape.

He narrowed his eyes at the screen, his mask’s lenses following the movement. He’ll have to pick up a gas mask. Apparently bio-weapons are just a regular thing here and he really didn’t want to get dosed with this “fear toxin.” It’d be dangerous for everyone involved. Maybe if he gets his hands on a sample, he could build up tolerance and see how his immune system and metabolic rates affected the normal progression of the toxin. Ah, off topic. He’s gotta focus.

Subcategory B: Local celebrities.

“Why would I need to know local celebrities?” He’d asked.

“If someone came up to you and asked “Who’s Tony Stark?”, wouldn’t you clock that as super weird? You gotta blend in, Peter. Plus, you gotta keep up with the pop culture, dude. It’s important.”

“You just want alternate universe memes,” Peter grinned.

“That too. If you ever go to an alternate universe and come back, you’d better bring me a truckload of memes or I’ll never forgive you.”

Yeah. So. Wayne? Super important. Like Tony Stark levels of important. He found threads about them and the local vigilantes and their charity works. Peter’s brain instantly catalogued the info, all but memorizing the deluge of pictures he found of Bruce Wayne and his kids. Maybe the man had an adoption problem? Conspiracy threads and memes popped up alongside his research. He tabbed one on secret societies, because as Spiderman, he had fought a disturbing amount of secret societies that, on hindsight, had been theorized about on threads he’s read on his free time. Somehow, somewhere, somewhen, a conspiracy theorist could be right. Peter’s not about to dismiss that. He also saved like thirty different memes to send to Ned when he got back. If he got back.

Peter smacked that thought away. He’ll get back to his city or die trying.

Subcategory C, underlined and starred: Other Superheroes and Vigilantes.

Yeah, Peter’s excited about this one too. After Matt stopped being Dare Devil (but did he actually ever stop?) and Wade dipping in and out of NY, Peter’s gotten lonely as Spider-Man. He missed training with them. Of course, the fantastic four were still operating, but he doesn’t actually interact with them or the Avengers at all. Miles hasn’t been cleared (by his mom) to go out as Spiderman with near as many hours as Peter cleared a night. Peter stood behind that because he remembered how horrible it was to work as Spiderman and try to balance school on top of it. Also, he was terrified of Mrs. Morales and would never endanger her son more than he already does. He did wave to Black Widow from a rooftop once, spider to spider, and that was pretty much the coolest moment of his life.

So. Uh. The amount of vigilantes and heroes in this world? Amazing. In Gotham? There’s like, a whole team of them.

Batman, Nightwing (who, Username: Draken Draken had theorized, was the first iteration of Batman’s sidekick Robin), Red Hood, Black Canary, Huntress, Red Robin, Spoiler, the “day vigilante” Signal, the current Robin, and whispers of a “Black Bat.”

And their unfortunate “No Meta” rule with the singular exception of Signal. Peter figured their term of Meta was essentially the same thing as his world’s mutants. He’s not sure which term he liked more. Eh, he’ll worry about that later.

And there’s a Justice League! Which, to Peter, is just a bigger Avengers. There’s aliens on this world too. Superman. Martian Manhunter.

Peter grinned from his place crouched next to the dumpster. Yeah, this is awesome. He quickly memorized everything he could find, cross referencing posts and picking out the nuggets of truth or at least popular truth from the posts he viewed. Like, Red Hood operated in Crime Alley and was a crime boss with morals. Cool.

He’ll go down the spiral later. He mentally thanked Ned who was the best guy in the chair a teenage vigilante could ask for. He should really text his friend when he got back.

For now, he’ll head to the library and see if he could use their computers. He might need a card though… Peter quickly pulled up the search engine and found an Internet cafe. Ah, 24 hour internet cafes, the savior of his college days. There first, and then library, Peter decided. He memorized the instructions and pulled his mask off, tucking it away in the hammer space.

He walked out the alley and turned left, only to double take at his reflection in a shop window that was partially boarded up. Holy shit, he’s a baby. He’s like. 10!

Oh my god.

Peter twitched, tearing himself away from the window before the shop owner decided he was less curious and more potential mugger before promptly remembering that he looked less of a threat than ever. Mixed feelings.

Peter hurried his way to the internet cafe, paying the guy at the front a little extra so he’d ignore the obvious minor without a guardian thing Peter hasn’t gotten used to. Ugh. That was going to be annoying. He only paid for two hours and pulled up as many listings for a room as possible. By the end of it, he came out with $1 worth of fliers printed out and having funneled some billionaire’s offshore accounts into a new bank account he’d made by hacking into the bank servers. Does he feel bad about stealing? Yeah. But Peter’s a vigilante. He’s done worse than nabbing a monthly sum of a couple of hundreds from Lex Luthor’s off shore accounts. He’s not gonna get caught, and considering the guy’s rants on meta humans, Peter’s not feeling particularly guilty about it. He’ll do something good later to make up for it. Once he gets his footholds and can prepare his way back, he’ll even return to the rest of the money. Probably.

Peter left the cafe with his sheaf of flyers, stopping by an informational stand with free tourist maps and plucked one quickly from its plastic holder. He’ll pick something up from the food vendors on his way to the apartments. Peter began walking, taking in the sights of the gargoyles and-

“Nope!” He caught the wrist of a pickpocket. It’s a kid and he immediately felt bad.

“Lemme go. I ain’t done nothing to ya, ya Yorker tourist.”

“Okay,” Peter shrugged. “Don’t get caught the next time?”

The kid gaped at him. “Shi’, you must be really good at it. I’ve never been caught before.”

Peter wisely refrained from telling the kid it was due to his spidey-sense. He let go of the kid’s wrist and let a bit more of his accent out. “Why’d you need money anyways?”

“Food, duh.”

“Dude, I’m starving. Tell you what. You show me the best sub shop nearby and I’ll pay for your food. Deal?”

The kid stared at him, wide eyed. “You’re fuckin’ nuts. Why’re you being nice?”

“I’m hungry? Do we have a deal, kid?”

“… Fuck it. Fine. And don’t call me kid, shrimp. You’re like what, eight?”

Oh. Yeah. Peter’s a kid now. He shrugged.

“I’m older than you. I’m twelve.”

Peter blinked, frowning at how thin the kid’s wrists were.

“I’m Peter!”

“… Frank.”

He let Frank lead the way. Stranger danger doesn’t apply to him, he’s a grown ass man. In the body of a ten year old him, but still. A couple of minutes, four sandwiches and a load of chips later, Frank was watching wide eyed as he demolished three four dollar subs.

“Holy shit. Where are you packing that away? You’re a stick!”

Peter took a big bite of the sandwich as an answer. Frank looked down at his meal.

“Uh. Hey.”

Peter made a muffled noise of question, mouth stuffed full of steak and cheese.

“Sorry about. Uh. Trynna nick from ya.”

Peter chewed faster.

Frank continued, looking like he hated himself. “I wouldn’t… normally steal from shrimps like you but I was desperate and… really hungry, so. My bad.”

Peter finished chewing. “All good, dude. Eat your sandwich.”

Peter had the sudden urge to adopt Frank. Unlike Wayne, he’s not a billionaire, so he smacked that urge down. He could use a friend though. Now… how to be friends with a literal child!

“If you feel that bad about it, you could… be my friend?”

Peter took in the wide eyed gaze from the twelve year old in front of him. Abort! Abort! That was too direct!

“You’re fucking weird. But… okay.”

“That was easy.”

Frank scowled, kicking Peter’s shin.

“Ow!”

“Whatever, shrimp.”

Peter scowled. On his baby face, it came out as a pout.

Do not start beef with a twelve year old, Peter. You’re a grown ass adult.

“Hey, you know I’m new here, right?”

“Duh.” Frank took a bite of his food.

“Can you tell me which one of these are legit?” Peter handed Frank the flyers. He took them, an odd look passing his face.

“You’re looking for a place?”

“Yeah? Why?”

Frank stared at him. Looked back down. He instantly got rid of four listings out of the ten. “These are too close to the Alley. They’re probably traffickers.”

Peter hummed in agreement. Frank paused.

“You’re just gonna trust me on that?”

“Yeah? I can tell when people are lying.” Well, his spidey sense could, when he cared enough about the subject.

“What the fuck.” Frank shoved the rest the papers at him and guiltily munched on his food. “Are Yorkers all just like you?”

“Dunno? Probably not.”

“… Whatever. The rest of the places should work. They probably won’t ask questions.” Frank flapped a hand at Peter’s new situation. Yeah, the shortness was getting to him too.

Peter nodded. Obviously, they were the more expensive places, but considering the new found resources he’d… acquired during his time at the cafe, it doesn’t really matter.

“Cool! Wanna go see it with me?”

Frank immediately took on a suspicious glare. “Why?”

“I dunno? You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought since you know your way around…”

“Ugh. Fine. But if there’s anything shady, I’m fucking dipping out.”

“Okay!” Peter grinned for the first time the couple of hours he’d been trapped in this new world.

——

They’d found an apartment with a landlord that got a weird, sad face when she was talking to them about the apartment. After like, an hour of walking around and Peter’s spidey sense screaming at him not to even go near the places Frank had left in the pile of maybe’s.

“We walked all the way here. Ya not even gonna go in?”

“The vibes are off. It’s a no.”

And because Peter’s a genius idiot with no self preservation, he’d marked the places to investigate later.

Frank had blinked at him, mildly offended and nonplussed. After a while of spluttering, he just gave up. Eventually, they got here.

“I don’t normally rent to kids,” the landlord lady said. Peter immediately liked her. “But I’ll make an exception if you’ve got the cash.”

“I’d like to see the unit first, please” Peter said. He’s not stupid, and Gotham’s renting scene is both easier and harder than New York.

They toured it. Peter? He’d seen worse. He’d lived worse. Also, it had two bedroom and was $620. Yeah, Peter was really considering just staying here full time and commuting to his New York when he wanted to be a vigilante.

“I’ll take it, ma’am.” The landlord and Frank both snorted, sharing a Gothamite look.

“It’s Georgie, to you, brat. You just need the first month’s rent, since I’ll wave the deposit for you shrimps. Utilities included. Your friend stayin’?”

“No-” Frank had started.

“Yep!” Peter beamed, interrupting his new friend.

“What?” Frank turned, gaping again at this weird little kid who had enough money to rent a place and then invited a whole ass street kid he just met to live with him. “Are you stupid?! What if I rob you? Huh? I don’t need charity!”

Peter slowly looked around the empty unit.

“Uh.”

“No, that’s not the point!” Frank pointed a finger at Peter. “That’s how you get yourself killed!”

“But that’s why you should stay! I don’t know my way around Gotham so…”

Peter looked up at Frank, using his shortness for maximum devastation. “Please?”

Georgie leaned back on the heels of her feet, silently laughing. It’s not every day she sees a Gothamite street kid get out stubborned by an outsider, but she knows better than anyone that Gotham is weak to genuine kindness. And this Peter kid, the one that reminds her so much of her own? He’s practically filled with it.

“Yeah, kid,” she said to Frank, snickering. “Look at him. He’s gonna get mugged two steps into the Alley. Or anywhere.”

Frank flailed, but eventually, Peter handed over the money to an amused Georgie who gave them two keys in return and a move in gift of a pot pie.

“I gotta. Uh. Go get my stuff.” Frank had mumbled, dazed at whatever the hell just happened.

“Okay! I’ll see if I can go get furniture!”

“And lift them with your shrimpy arm? You wish.”

“I can use a cart.”

And really, he could, because Gotham had a lot of abandoned carts laying around. Like a concerning amount.

“Can you even reach the handle?”

“I’m not that short!”

Frank snorted, Georgie’s own chuckles following a beat after. Peter scowled at them.

“Be right back,” Frank promised, holding the key like it was treasure. He had been homeless for two and a half years now, so in his eyes, that key was as good as gold. He had somewhere warm to stay. Trying to pickpocket Peter was the best mistake he’s ever made in his short life. But he didn’t want to take advantage of that, well, no, he did want to, but he doesn’t want to take the genuine kindness for granted so he’ll see if there’s any street furniture he could haul back on his way.

“Okay!”

Georgie watched him go and turned to Peter.

“If you need stuff, there’s a thrift store and a grocery store that way.” She gave him the directions.

——

As soon as Frank and Georgie left, Peter immediately left his new place (and holy shit, he really didn’t expect things to be this easy. In New York, he had to spend at least a week checking out places because he had to figure out whether the problem that cause subtle twinges with his spider sense was worth living with. Here? It’s too obvious.) to buy supplies. He had $400. Until his new card came in, at least. He’d put his new address into that bank account addressed to a “Anthony Benjamin” before ordering a “replacement card.”

Peter ran to the thrift store, hurrying before the last traces of the sun dipped below the smog of Gotham. A frankly absurd amount of blankets, towels, pillows, clothes, packaged boxers, socks and shoes around his size went into the cart. To his chagrin, Peter couldn’t actually see much over the cart. Why the hell was he such a short ten year old? He blasted through the store, also guesstimating Frank’s sizes. He tossed in curtains, a used set of glow in the dark stars, and a lamp.

He also grabbed mismatched mugs, bowls, a bundle of cutlery, and a dented microwave he casually pretended to struggle getting onto the bottom part of the cart. It’s like lifting grapes for him, but he looks like a ten year old so…

He, guiltily, bought a mildly fancy camera in a set, with two separate lenses, even if one was cracked.

Not bad, for $150 total. Peter is going to definitely seriously consider commuting to New York. They didn’t even care when he walked out with the cart! Well, that might be because of the cashier who gave him a pitying glance.

He stopped by a general store on the way back, parking his cart in a rapidly shadowy alleyway. He swung by the new section of the store that reminded him of a Dollar Tree and got cleaning supplies, toiletries, and two pans and a pot. He grabbed some canned food and a couple of frozen meals in the back. Seasonings, ramen, general pantry staples went in. A role of paper towel. Nice. Venom would have loved this store. With half of his budget blown for essentials, Peter quickly cut his spending off and

He quickly gathered his stuff and went back to the apartment, using his strength a bit to lift the full cart up the stairs at the front doors and into the elevator. It creaked like the first time they used it to go see the apartment, but it worked. Peter set everything up in the living room, pillow and blanket wise, and put everything in its proper place. The lamp was put up, giving more light than the old bulb in the ceiling light.

All Peter wanted to do was pass out, but since his dumbass took in a child, he couldn’t sleep until this place was relatively fit for a kid to live in. He also wanted to wait for

So, that’s what he did. Taking a sponge and the cleaning supplies he’d picked up earlier, Peter tackled the living room, scrubbing away at old stains and spraying mildew. He marked trouble spots- like that splinter worthy piece of floor next to the doorway leading to the hall between the bedrooms. Then the kitchen. By the time Frank cautiously peeked his head in from the front door, Peter had already finished scrubbing the over.

“Hey.”

Peter turned, grime on his face but grinning. “Hey!” I bought some stuff!”

Frank snorted at his face before glancing around the living room, eyeing the cart parked neatly on the side.

“So you did. Didn’t get mugged, did ya?”

“Rude. No, of course not.”

Frank gave him a… frankly… unimpressed look and dumped his bag next to the pile of blankets and pillows Peter had piled onto the floor. Sue hi’, they didn’t have beds yet.

“Got somethin’ for ya,” Frank said neutrally before dragging in…

“A coffee table!” Peter bounced towards Frank, hugging him before lugging in the heavy wooden table in. “You’re the best! Where’d you find it?!”

The tension, anxiety about Peter’s reaction, in Frank’s shoulders relaxed and the kid grinned. “Alley. Some asshole just left it there for anyone to hit with their car so I took it.”

“Nice! We can eat on this!”

——

When they were getting ready for bed, Peter insisting on showers for both of them, Frank had reared up at the clothes Peter bought for him. Peter pretended like he didn’t see anything and shove a whole tube of toothpaste and a new toothbrush at him.

“Ew. Do I have to?” Frank asked, wrinkling his nose but taking the items anyways.

“Yeah.” Peter said seriously. Frank gave a moment to wonder why he was taking orders from an eight year old before shrugging. He could brush his teeth in exchange for a roof over his head, food, and clothes. It’s not even a fair trade, for Peter, anyways. Frank was enough of an alley rat to take advantage of that.

——

When Frank passed out, Peter couldn’t sleep. He’s exhausted, but he couldn’t sleep.

So he took his new camera and climbed the fire escape to the roof top.

An hour later, he met his first vigilante.

“Hey, kiddo. I’m gonna need you to back away from the edge.”

“Woah!” Peter startled, jolting slightly off of the ledge he was balanced on. He twisted around to see Red Robin, hand outstretched and panicked look in his eyes.

“Dude. Warn a guy!” Peter said, even though his spider sense warned him of an approaching person that was actively watching him.

Red Robin held his hands up. “My bad. Would you- uh, not be on that ledge?”

“Yeah, sure. My bad, bro.” Peter obligingly stood up and stepped away from the ledge. Red Robin relaxed then did a double take. Peter frowned. Is there something on his face?

“What are you doing up here, kiddo? It’s late.”

Peter decided to scope out the vigilante. “Couldn’t sleep,” he held up his camera. “I’m taking pictures.”

“Oh. That’s cool! Can I see?” Red Robin approached warily, but relaxed when Peter didn’t spook and try to take a shortcut to ground floor.

“Sure! It’s a new, well, not new but new to me, camera so I haven’t had all that time to mess with the specs but the pictures turned out pretty good-”

“Oh, woah. This one’s great. That composition? Amazing. You caught the light perfectly,” Red Robin complimented. Peter brightened, knowing a photography fan when he hears one.

“Photography buddy!” He cheered.

They talked for an hour after that, but Red Robin quickly sent him to bed once he remembered the time.

“Ah, shi- crap. It’s like 2AM. You’ve gotta go to bed.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry if I interrupted your patrol, Mr. Red Robin!”

“No problem, kid.” Peter slipped back down the fire escape, not caring if the vigilante saw where he lived.

——

Up on the rooftop, Red Robin pressed a hand to his comm.

“Red Robin to Nightwing.”

“What’s up, Red?”

“Do you have a kid you don’t know about?” Tim said, bluntly.

“… What?”

“Oracle, can you share my cowl footage?”

“Copy. Oh, that kid…”

“Looks exactly like Wing?” Tim said, peering down at the empty fire escape. “Yeah. Talked like him too.”

“Oh my god, he’s adorable.” Oracle said. Tim agreed. That curly hair? Baby face? Adorable. A bean. “Did you get DNA?”

“Ah, shit, I knew I forgot something.”

“Do not break into his place and nab a hair,” Nightwing reprimanded, but his voice sounded distracted.

“Holy shit, you guys nerded out about camera placement and lighting for an hour?” Hood piped up.

“Get some rest, Red Robin. You’ve been working too hard,” Batman grunted through the comms. Awkward… but he’s been getting better at communicating his worry for his kids.

“Sure thing, B. Heading back to the main cave. Red Robin out.

——

Peter: lay low and get home

Also Peter: talks to a vigilante

None of them think Peter’s Nightwing’s yet. Peter will know before them… eventually. Once this world’s version of him gives up his memories to be absorbed by AU Peter.

[buryustogether]

lilac - chapter 2

miguel o’hara x f!reader

summary: a pre-work visit to the bank goes horribly wrong.

wc: 4.7k

tags/warnings: unhappy relationship, gun violence, bank robbery, blood, scars, stripping, pole dancing, sexual fantasy, semi-public sex, praise

author’s note: yeah he got me fucked up

They called him Spiderman.

He appeared seemingly from thin air overnight - specifically, the night you’d stayed late at the school to watch Gabriella O’Hara until her father could pick her up. They were hailing him a vigilante, a hero, an aggressor. No one could quite seem to agree on just what he was other than supernatural. Like the multiple self-titled supervillains who had taken over your city without someone to stop them, he possessed abilities no regular human was capable of. Shooting webs from his wrists, climbing walls, moving and propelling himself at unimaginable speeds. He was something unimaginable.

People theorized, over the week since his city-wide premier on shaky cellphone footage and breaking news coverings that interrupted regular shows, that he had escaped from a cage in Alchemax. How else could they explain his powers? They couldn’t. Others said he was an alien. Some said he was a fake, said that the clips that captured him beating the absolute shit out of car thieves and back alley thugs and would-be kidnappers, were all photoshopped with a fancy computer and an advanced program.

Either way, no matter where he’d come from or what he was, whether he was a do-gooder or another villain searching for glory, no one could deny that what he did was incredible.

It was too bad some people were out to get him despite what he was doing for your city.

“He’s a menace!” shouted the anchor of the news show playing in the bank’s lobby. J. Jonah Jameson’s voice brought a migraine to the front of your head, one that wouldn’t go away with just simple ibuprofen. You tried to block him out as you waited in line for a teller, attempting to focus instead on the story your boyfriend was barking in your ear on your phone. Your attempt was unsuccessful. “He’s just another villain trying to have his five minutes of glory in the sun. He’ll burn out just like all the others; Doc Ock, Kraven, the Vulture… Please, people! Wake up and take a deep breath of reality! He’s not helping the citizens of New York - he’s getting in the way of our police!” He fixed the camera with a hard, stony stare that made you look away when you saw one of his eyes twitch. What in fuck did that dude put in his cereal every morning? “Spiderman is just another villain. Give him another week, and see where he ends up.”

You felt your lips tug down as you turned away from the television and moved up in line. What a sad, pathetic city you lived in, where someone attempted to use whatever powers they had to do good and got blasted for it instead of praise. God knew New York needed all the help it could get. With the highest crime rate in the country, who would turn their nose up at what little help was offered to them?

Dickwipes, that was who.

“Hello?” shouted the voice on the other end of the phone you held up to your face. You jumped slightly and pulled it from your ear, earning yourself a few strange looks from the other people in line. “Are you even listening to me?”

“Sorry, babe,” you exhaled into the speaker. Blocking out the television and the rest of the distractions in the bank, you upped the volume on your phone. “Just kind of busy at the moment. I’m in line at the bank, and then I’ve got to catch a taxi in this fucking traffic and haul ass to work before class starts, and -”

From his end, Ferris released one of those breathy sighs that he did when he wanted you to stop speaking so that he could talk what was on his mind. You knew the sound well - well enough to shut your mouth and swallow thick. “Could’ve just said it was a bad time,” he grunted, then made the noises of switching his phone to his other ear. You recognized the sounds of his deft fingers fiddling with his guitar strings. God, it seemed like he never put that fucking thing down. A part of you suspected that if your apartment was on fire, he would run to save his instrument before you. “Listen, I’ve got practice here in a while. I’ll let you get back to whatever’s so important.”

Ignoring the pang that resounded like a thunderclap through your ribcage, you nodded your head despite knowing he couldn’t see you. “Uhm, okay.” You hesitated, then added, “Oh, before you go to practice -” you heard him sniff - “could you put away the dishes in the sink? I started the cycle this morning before I left, so it should be -”

“Yeah,” he said quickly. “Bye.”

“Oh, okay, bye. Lo-” Before you could finish, you heard the familiar click of the other line being hung up. You stood still for a moment, feeling a little numb at your fingers, before slowly pulling your phone from your face and pressing that bright red button to hang up your end. Trying to keep your expression neutral, you stepped forward in line as it moved.

Maybe once upon a time, you and Ferris had been happy together. Maybe… satisfied was the right word. Settled. There to fill the void when you needed someone. Saying ‘I love you’ was never a column to lean upon in your relationship; it was only mumbled under breaths during sex and rare moments when both of you were in the mood to not be so completely alone. But that wasn’t often. He was too busy with his band, spending whatever money from his gigs that he received at whatever bars he trolled when he claimed he was cleaning up after shows. You were too busy teaching your kids during the day and teasing and smiling desperate souls at night, putting lousy paychecks and crumpled tips toward keeping your rent paid and food in the pantry.

The girls at The Menagerie asked you why you didn’t leave him, kick him out of your apartment and change the locks. You couldn’t ever come up with a good reason. Maybe it was because if you did, six months of your life would be down the drain. Maybe it was because if you did, you’d be more alone than you ever had in your life.

You didn’t have anyone besides Ferris. Your parents, shit - they were a lost cause. The girls at the club all had separate lives. And your kids at the school - you had to let them go every afternoon, walk out that door without a glance back.

If you let Ferris go, you would have no one.

Stuffing your phone back into your purse, you held your head high, refusing to let anyone else here see just how deep the cracks in your foundations were. At last, you were called up to the next available teller.

Your heels clicked and clacked along the polished tile floor, the bright yellow dress that you’d bought for yourself for a school spirit day swishing about your ankles. You felt like a sore thumb in this dull, brown-and-white building that was just aching to be updated. Old, vintage chandeliers hung from the high-arched ceilings, illuminating the golden bars the tellers sat behind. Benches with creaky leather occupied the center of the lobby, accented by matching chairs and little desks that bankers in starched collars met with clients at. It was all black and white, neutrals and dark tones.

Greeting the teller behind the gate with as bright a smile as you could muster, you opened your mouth to say hello. Yet just when you began to push the syllables past your lips, your world shattered like porcelain meeting concrete.

Sunlight like a torch in a dark tunnel flooded the bank as a small line of figures crowded into the bank. At first, no one paid them any mind. Then shots like the deafening cracks of fireworks right beside your ear sounded from sleek black rifles into the ceiling, and screams filled the echoey chambers of the building. You immediately dropped and covered your head, breath leaving your lungs like the air had been slammed from your chest by a sledgehammer. People cowered behind the cushions and desks, scrambling for cover as another round went through the roof.

“Everyone put your hands on your heads and take a seat on the ground,” came a booming voice from the figure at the head of the group. There were four of them, a small team who wore identical kabuki masks and black tactical gear fit to be seen on military personnel. “This is a robbery. Not a killing spree, not a kidnapping - a robbery. We ain’t looking to hurt anyone today, unless someone tries to be a hero. No sudden moves. You all follow directions, and you’ll be home in time for lunch.”

Unable to pull in a new breath, you slid to the ground and placed your hands on top of your head. You watched, eyes wide and fingers trembling slightly as the men began to make their rounds to the tellers, plopping wide, fat bags on the counters and demanding money from beneath the desks be placed inside. One took up a stance just beside you, forcefully shoving his bag to the man behind the bars and commanding him to pull out the stacked bills. The teller at once complied, dropping thousands of dollars as sweat began to bead at his temples.

Holy goddamn fucking shit. Holy fuck. You knew this city was dangerous - hell, you’d sit back night after night at home and watch on the news as cars were jacked and people were taken hostage. You’d just never thought it would happen to you; of all the millions of people in this city, you’d never thought it would be you. And yet here you were, hunkered down against a countertop as your bank was robbed with you at the throbbing heart of it all.

And you were all alone.

The man in the mask beside you took a glance down when your trembling brushed up against his leg, his head tilting slightly in a demented way that made his mask look haunted. You were suddenly reminded of your own mask that you wore for work, of the ones the other girls wore, and you were struck with the realization that, perhaps, you and he were not so different. You both wore masks to hide your faces, holding out your hands and moving to a particular kind of dance in order to snatch money right out of pockets without batting a damn eye.

Then again, when you danced, you didn’t hold an automatic rifle strapped to your shoulder.

“Give it to me,” said the man above you. You were barely able to understand his words through his mask.

Your heart skipped yet another few beats as you tried to register what he was saying. Give it to him? Give him what? “What?” you managed to say over the lead in your throat.

He nodded his head to the space beside you, and you whipped around. Your purse lay on its side next to your thigh. He wanted your purse; your wallet. Your money. Everything you had - which still wasn’t much. But you couldn’t give it up.

You looked back up at him while he switched his gaze between you and the teller, who was still busy filling the bag with cash. “No,” you said, and when he snapped his gaze to yours, you added, “please. I don’t have much, I don’t have anything compared to this place.”

The man in the mask turned away from the teller to grip his rifle tighter, tilting it slightly so that it was level with your leg curled up against your chest. “I’m not going to ask again, lady.”

Just as your hand began to scrabble for the purse laying beside you, knocking around a few papers and loose change that had fallen out, the man was struck in the face with a mass of white substance that clung to his mask. He cried out and dropped his rifle, hands flying up in an attempt to pull the stuff from his eye holes. You watched, frozen in place, as another masked man across the lobby was stuck to a countertop by his hand with another mass that appeared from seemingly nowhere.

Before anyone else could react, a dark, sinewy figure dropped from the arched ceilings overhead and kneeled on the tile just a few feet from where you huddled. When they stood up straight, your breath hitched in your throat. It was a man, donned head to toe in a blue and red suit that popped with color here in this bleak interior - like your yellow dress. His face was covered with a mask, the only indication of an expression beneath that surface retractable eye lenses that narrowed as he took a glance around the ceiling.

Spiderman exhaled a nearly inaudible huff. “Some things never change.”

From that moment, the bank was painted into a picture of chaos. The masked vigilante expelled a pair of webs from his wrist to slingshot himself across the lobby, landing a jaw-cracking blow to one of the robbers who tried to raise his rifle. The fourth, the last one still able to move, cracked off a number of shots that sent people scrambling and wailing out. The blue and red suit shot off tiny sparks as lead collided with its bulletproof material, nothing but pebbles against a mountain.

Spiderman huffed again, a breathy little chuckle this time. “Cute.”

In the next second, that fourth gunman was sent flying into a marble wall, sliding down onto his face to reveal the large crack his spine had put in its surface. The last two men were taken down quicker than you could have blinked. The second, his hand still stuck to the countertop, didn’t stand much of a chance when webs ripped his own rifle from his grasp and struck him across the forehead with a sickening crack. And the man who had demanded your purse - he’d only just gotten the white mass of sticky stuff off his mask before the vigilante slung across the room, grabbed him by his vest, and raised a gloved hand capped with three-inch long claws. “It’s impolite to threaten pretty ladies,” he growled in a voice that, for some reason, despite the situation, made your stomach churn a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. He swung the robber toward you where you sat on the ground, that clawed hand gripping his jaw to force him to keep your eyes. “Apologize - like a gentleman. And maybe I’ll think about letting you keep your trigger finger in one piece.”

By now, with the gunmen either unconscious or being held against their will, almost everyone else in the bank had gotten to their feet and bolted out the front doors. In the distance, sirens wailed and tires screeched. And yet you remained where you were, staring up at Spiderman as he tightened his grip on the man’s jaw. His claws drew tiny dots of blood along his skin. “We’re waiting,” he said in a breathy murmur.

The gunman inhaled a high-pitched, shaky breath and turned his eyes to you from behind his mask. “M’sorry,” he stuttered over his own terror.

The vigilante leaned closer, his eye lenses narrowing. “Sorry for what?”

“M’sorry for threatening you,” came the pathetic cry in response that almost made you pity him. Almost. “It - it won’t happen again, I swear.”

For a short moment, the two men stared at you. One was praying that you accepted the apology, prayed you were going to call off your savior in spandex. The other was waiting for your decision, waiting to see if you accepted such a sorry excuse for a ‘sorry.’ Swallowing the large lump in your throat, you wordlessly bobbed your head in a nod.

Spiderman hummed and turned his head so that his mouth would be close to the robber’s ear. “Seems the lady’s feeling generous today. Consider yourself lucky.”

He spun the man around with those claws of his, and the robber’s gloved hand reached out in a blind panic and grabbed onto the vigilante’s suit just where his neck met his broad shoulders. He dragged the spandex down accidentally as his head was slammed against the marble countertops, giving you perhaps a one second-long glimpse of dark, tan skin and a small scar across his collarbone. Then the man’s grip relaxed as he dropped to the floor and he released the material of the suit, allowing it to snap back into place.

You jumped slightly as the would-be robber collapsed in a heap of limbs and tactical gear beside you, your dress riding up on your thighs slightly from how you sat with your knees huddled to your chest. Before you could think to do much else in this mind-boggling moment, Spiderman was standing before you and offering a hand to help you to your feet. His claws had shrunk back into his glove - or, perhaps his own nails - and his upturned palm suddenly looked oh so inviting. It floored you in the most alluring, gut-clenching way how those very hands had just brought four men within an inch of their life, and yet now they were softer than empty promises just for you.

“You alright?” he asked as you took his hand and stood. “Sorry you had to get caught up in all this.”

He talked to you in such a casual way, like the pair of you had met before, that you could do nothing but stare and clutch your hands to your stomach as he scooped up the fallen items from your purse, dropped them back in, and handed your bag to you. Numbly, you accepted it.

“You’re safe to walk outside now,” he assured, towering over you like a damn stone column. Fuck, his voice was sexy. Low and tipped with a rolling accent. You wondered, in that moment, why it sounded so familiar. “The police should be arriving any time. They’ll just ask you a few questions and send you on your way.” As if he understood that you were frozen in place, he touched your back, turned you around, and urged you toward the front doors that were now flooded with red and blue lights from the squad cars outside. “Take care of yourself, alright?”

You had just barely mumbled a barely-audible ‘okay’ before he was gently guiding you out the doors, and then suddenly you were alone, facing down three dozen cops and a truckload of SWAT soldiers.

They asked you exactly what happened in that bank. They asked what you were doing there, what time the incident occurred, who in the hell could single handedly take down four aggressors with automatic rifles and bulletproof vests? They knew the answer, and so did you. But you told them anyway.

“It was Spiderman.”

And no matter how fucking hard you tried, how much you urged yourself to forget about them and focus on the here and now, you were unable to get that masked vigilante out of your head. You thought about him on the rest of the way to the school, because god knew there were far too few teachers in this city and you couldn’t have gotten a substitute even if you tried. You thought about him while your coworkers, the other teachers, all gathered around you in the breakroom and demanded answers and stories from your little incident that morning. You thought about him while you planned out your day with numb fingers and toes, and while you stood out front and welcomed kids in, and even when Miguel O’Hara appeared to drop off Gabriella safely at your side.

It took a few words out of his mouth, past those gorgeous full lips of his, a quirk of one of those thick brows, to finally bring you out of your stupor. “I’m sorry?” you said when you realized he had asked you a question. You felt your cheeks warm and your palms become sweaty as you begged his pardon.

To your relief, Miguel only smiled slightly and placed a hand on his jutted hip like he did. God, why did he have to do that? Draw attention to the perfect ratio of his body, a beautiful slope from his wide shoulders to his trimmed waist? “Just asking if you were alright,” he repeated himself, and you could have sworn his eyes flitted over you while he spoke. “Heard you were caught up in that robbery down on Fifth.”

“Oh… right.” You cleared your throat and watched as Gabriella spotted a few friends and dashed into the school to meet them, her backpack wagging behind her. “Yeah, I’m alright. Now that it’s over, I realize it didn’t even last that long. Maybe five minutes or so before… before Spiderman showed up.”

“Yeah?” He reached up his other hand to scratch at the underside of his chin, where the delicate skin of his throat was. Your eyes followed his movements like they were a magnet and you had no choice but to watch. Even if you did have a choice, you would have watched, anyway.

You nodded your head once, clasping your clipboard with your kids’ names on it to your thighs over your dress. A breeze blew over Washington Elementary, letting the yellow fabric dance and blow up to your knees. They were scuffed from kneeling on the hard tile floor this morning. “Mmm-hmm. He’s… not like I imagined him,” you admitted, then realized just what you were doing; talking to Miguel O’Hara, the main star in every single one of your late-night fantasies, about the man who had quite literally swooped in and saved your ass. “But, anyhow… No one got hurt. That’s what matters.”

The corners of Miguel’s lips quirked upward ever so slightly, showing off a tiny flash of his white teeth. It then occurred to you that you’d never seen him smile fully - only with a closed mouth. “Well,” he said, and lifted his hand an inch or two, almost like he was going to touch your arm, then stopped himself and lowered it back down. “I’m glad you’re safe.” There came a fraction of a second of tense, charged silence between the pair of you before he added, “Don’t know what we would do if something happened to Bri’s favorite teacher.”

Bri - you’d never heard him call her that before. It was always a full ‘Gabriella.’

Behind you, in the school, the bell rang, signaling the final five minutes before class started. You glanced over your shoulder, feeling your heart sink slightly at the realization that you would have to leave the conversation. “I’d better -” You allowed your sentence to fall away as a number of squad cars came rounding the corner across from the school, sirens wailing and tires squealing on the tarmac. Other vehicles on the road pulled over to let them pass as they blew through a red light; whatever was happening, it must have been serious. But wasn’t it always.

“Heh,” you chuckled gently as you began to turn back to Miguel. “Always something happening, ri-”

He was gone. Vanished, seemingly, into nothingness. No car to watch pull out of the lot, because he walked his daughter to school, and no trace of his hulking, towering form down the sidewalk outside the wrought iron gates that surrounded the building. He’d completely and totally disappeared.

Damn, you thought as you blinked a few times, gripping your clipboard, and entered the school. What an enigma he was.

That night at work, as you spun yourself around and around on the pole center stage in various twisted shapes and contortments, you found yourself divulging in yet another one of your little fantasies. You shut your eyes as you tensed your leg and gripped the pole to send yourself around in a tight, flashing circle that made the train - that your boss had specifically instructed you to wear while you were in the spotlight - flutter and whip like golden water pulled across a current.

You pictured Miguel seated in the leather chair closest to the stage, his chin propped on his forearms where they rested across the edge of your runway. You imagined the neon lights playing tricks and dirty, filthy, irresistable illusions in the gleam of his eyes, following your movements around and around because no matter how many times you did the same cheap trick, he would still watch it as if it were his first time seeing it. You thought of kneeling down in front of him even though it was against the rules to get too friendly with customers if they weren’t going to pay to see you up close, and of gently taking the point of his chin in between your fingers so that he was tilting his head up to look at you.

Fuck, you thought of him taking you on that fucking stage after the place was closed, hovering over you with your legs locked around his hips and your hands gripping the wrists pinned beside your head so tight your knuckles paled. You swore that, even in your little scenario, you could feel his breath fanning across your face as he leaned down to murmur in your ear through his huffs and lustful, breathy sighs.

“Such a good girl, takin’ it all f’me. Pretty girl, pretty baby. All mine. All mine.”

You opened your eyes and forced yourself to return to reality when you felt yourself being watched. Of course you were being watched - there were dozens upon dozens of eyes surrounding your stage, watching from behind the porcelain gaps in their animalistic masks. But there was another sensation of being stared at that didn’t quite fit in with the rest of them, one that sent a certain kind of shiver down your spine. Keeping in time with your routine and the music thrumming through the floorboards of the club, you peered deep into the wide atrium in search of whoever was fixing you with such a gaze.

You found it.

He was standing nearly in the shadows where the lights couldn’t reach him, arms crossed tight over his chest and stance firm so that everyone who looked at him knew to never even think of invading the space he’d claimed for himself. The man was tall and sinewy with muscle, but you had to squint to see his frame clearly through the dark and the dress jacket he wore. Over his face, the edges obscured by the slicked-back mess of dark hair atop his head, he wore the club’s one and only spider mask.

It was a specialty disguise, one that only the top rollers and highest bidders of the evening bribed their way to at the front room. It usually signified that whoever was behind the porcelain wanted attention, wanted drinks to come nonstop to their side tables, wanted every girl in the damn house on their lap and at their feet. And yet, this evening’s spider was nothing like that. He clung to the shadows, to the perimeter of the room, like he didn’t want anyone to know he was there. He took up no more space than necessary. He was practically a no one, despite the delicate, fractured-looking design he wore over his features.

And he was watching you dance like he was mesmerized, like if the doors were chained shut and the place was burning down around him, he’d be content to stay where he was and keep his eyes focused on your body.

When the man realized you had spotted him, that you were staring right back at him through the gaps of your monarch mask, he moved. You nearly wanted to cry out, to tell him to wait, that you weren’t done. But you couldn’t.

So instead you continued to dance, continued to watch him as he flowed through the other patrons toward the exit. Yet when he turned in just a particular way to avoid bumping into a server, you saw it; through the unbuttoned top pair of buttons of his dress shirt, you spotted it, you were able to catch a glimpse of a pale, raised scar running along his collarbone.

The very same you’d seen on Spiderman.

tags: @mooomeadows @twentysomethingwereyote @screamforyani @fangirlreice7 @axdjelx @ornamentalnecromancy @faust-pda @ilikethemoon28 @mrm-pachypoda @wadafrick

(strike through means your blog could not be tagged.)

[littyhoney]

Can we please have Earth 1610! Miles x reader where throughout their journey, the reader has been envious of Gwen because of Miles' feelings for her and he was completely oblivious about Y/N's feelings for him. Then comes the events and reveal of Earth 42! Miles, which he and Y/N were together but his Y/N ended up dying. As the story goes, both our Miles and Reader gets taken and when our Miles wakes up being tied against the punching bag, Y/N comes after him to save him but Earth 42! Miles is blinded with envy and was still in love with Y/N so he pins them on the ground in front of our Miles as he watched his other self trapped Y/N in his arms and praising their beauty. This makes Miles realize that seeing his other self worship Y/N makes his heart burn with Jealousy and realize that he has been in love with Y/N all along, not Gwen. Thank you so much!

Treasure to him.

(Earth 1610! Miles x F!Reader x Earth 42! Miles)

Warnings: Heavy angst, mention of gun, slight toxic, manipulation, very long story

Word count: 5.3K words (longest one fic i have ever write)

Ps: This is an apology piece from me for the delay of chapter five of Right person,Wrong time. I can't promise you guys when i would release it but i hope with this piece it would be something fun for yall to read. I appreciate every single reblogs and words of encouragement for me to write i love yall are so sweet. Enjoy spiders! <3<3

(In earth 1610, before the ATSV events)

You and Miles have known each other since he first step in the Vision Academy, you knew him by the tittle 'cop kid' since like half of the school witnessed Miles embarrassing moment of him and his dad. But you found out that the 'cop kid' is actually a sweet,charming yet awkward boy. You always wait with anticipation for him to walk in the class that you two had in the same time just so that you can see what’s new in his sketchbook, his graffiti sketches some of his portraits its so well drawn that you are mesmerized by it. You also hang out together either to study or you just want to sit together listening to music while you watch the master creating his masterpiece.

Day by day you just start to like his stupid corny jokes about science, his eyes that reminds you of the warm sun and that stupid sweet smile of his. It’s hard not to fall for him, whenever you hang out he would hold your hand to cross the road because he doesn’t want you to fall behind or trip. The little banter you both have when you both come up with a stupid question like “does pineapple belong on pizza”.

But it all changes when he met this ‘Gwanda’ girl or Gwen is her real name since you been in the same class as her after she got transferred here apparently. Ever since he met Gwen he has been weird, that’s when you know he is the new Spider-man of Brooklyn. How do you know? You walk into his room with Ganke one day to his dorm room to return his notes, you look up to see not only Miles on the ceiling but with Gwen and seems to be more spider people. Resulting to Ganke falling back pass out while you got web by one of them.

As the months pass by you and Miles grew closer, you been with him through thick and thin. He need notes? You lend him yours, need someone to dial cops on criminal or villain that he caught? Your phone is ready, need someone to let out some pent up frustration? You will listen to him and be there for him every time. You understand being a hero for the city and a student in such a prestige school in Brooklyn can be too much for him, not to mention he is a freaking teenager. You show him support and love to him hoping that he would notice you feelings for him, of course you did all of that not only because of love,but because you genuinely care for him. But the moment the two of you would just sit together and chatting away through the evening at the ‘Foam Part’ coffee shop, everything just feels right again.

Today is the day that you will admit your feeling for Miles,feet tapping nervously on wood tile with your drink have gone down half of the cup after you keep sipping on it. You been waiting for Miles for half an hour now,you have left him a few messages but he doesn’t respond to it. But he did promise to meet here today, but thanks to his delay you keep reciting the script in your head on how you going to confess to him. Maybe make it quick and straight to the point like “Hey miles look, I like you” or make it sentimental like “Miles,ever since I met you a year ago-” your train of though got interrupted by a ring of a bell from the entrance of the coffee shop.

There standing by the door, slightly out of breath stand Miles Morales. He look around the coffee shop trying to see a familiar face, when his eyes land on you a smile is send to your direction. He make his ways to you before sitting down with a big sigh “Finally! Im done dealing with that guy” he muster up the best puppy face that he can at you “Im sorry that im late (Y/N), as a sorry I’ll buy your (favorite dessert) what do you say?” he tilt his head to the side leaning forward.

Oh how can you be mad at him after that very tempting deal so you roll your eyes and smile at him “Alright alright apology accepted,but this will be the last okay?”. He laugh and nodding his head “Aigh I’ll make sure next time I won’t be late, I be right back” he give you a wink before walking to the counter to order his drink and getting your dessert. You sit there smilling to yourself,the butterfly fluttering in your stomach.

Few minutes later Miles return with the set items “here ya go! Enjoy” he put the small plate in front of you and keeping his hot coco to himself. “You don’t have to you know,a sorry would suffice” you insist while picking up the spoon. Miles shake his head waving his hand “Nah nah I feel bad keeping you hangin man, that’s the least I could do for you”. You just let out a chuckle and nod,it’s free food so.

Like always, you are curious as to what he have been drawing this week so as you feed yourself a spoonful of sweetness “So,anything new you been cooking up?”. Miles put down his cup before nodding “Yeah yeah I have a few new pieces, here” he turn his body slightly reach for his bag pulling out his black sketchbook that is decorated by stickers “Here,check it out” he slide the book to you.

You open up the book skipping few pages back until you see a new art have been drawn by him “Whoa, these are neat Miles” you smile wide as you take in the details and bright colors of the pieces he drawn. “I wanna put up that one up on a wall,I’ll let you know when though” he says as he watches you going through his precious book. You chuckle “can’t wait Miles” you flip to another page, seeing the familiar spider people like that particular black and white spider, Miles told you his name is Spider Noir.

Your eyes trail to another piece in the page, your smile fell slightly. It’s a drawing of the familiar blonde girl, Gwen. You can’t lie that Gwen is a beautiful girl and very talented, the drawing capture her smile and her cool shaved hair that gives her more personality. The envy feeling return but you swallow it down “Wow someone is having a crush huh” you said teasingly at Miles lifting your head to look at him,with a soft but pain smile. “What do you mean?” Miles says furrowed his eyebrows. You turn the book held it up towards him lifting one of your eyebrow “Come onn don’t lie,it’s pretty obvious Miles”. Miles eyes widened “What?! no no nahh you got it wrong im not pfff that’s funny nah nah” he says as he cross his arms over his chest after waving his hand side to side.

You roll your eyes snapping the book shut putting it down on the table “Please you been talking and drawing the same spider people these past months, and you been drawing Gwen a lot too” you give him a pointed look. Miles sigh and put his arms on the table “Look (N/N) whatever it is you’re thinking it’s not that I like her its just that I…I miss her,I miss them” he gesture his hand to the book “It’s, kind of lonely being the only spider-man you know”.

You purse your lips before sigh lightly “I hope one day you can meet them again Miles” you reach for his hand,holding it both in yours. “You’re not alone here Miles, you have Ganke…you have me”

Miles look into your eyes,he is stunned. For as long as they have been friends, Miles does have a tiny crush on her. Miles just like the sound of her laughter or when she scrunched her face at his corny joke makes him forget his problem for a while. He feel comfortable with her,he feel free to be himself with or without the mask. He knows that she’ll be there whenever he needed her help, he also put an extra work to his drawings because he wanted to show you only the best pieces of art from him. But when he met Gwen and to know that she is also a spider,it feels different to him. He know how much Gwen understands him, he doesn’t feel different of being the odd one. He is confuse, over his own feelings.

“Look Miles I been wanting to tell you something” your voice snap him out of his thoughts. “W-what is it (N/N)?” Miles look at you with anticipation.

You on the other hand is having a battle with yourself in your head going back and forth with ‘tell him you feel better’ or ‘Don’t tell him and pretend’. You squeeze his hand in your palm slightly, building up the courage. ‘this is it,if he won’t return my feelings at least I get it off my chest’ you blew out an air and open your mouth “Miles, I…” the word is stuck in your throat. ‘Just say it,say it!’ you mentally scolding yourself.

Just as you open your mouth a loud crash and a panic yelling come from outsdie of the cafe, you and Miles turn to look at scene to see few robbers went inside a car while the owner is screaming for help. ‘Wow…the universe hates me huh’ you look back at Miles to see him already looking at you with a clear ‘I gotta go sorry’ in his eyes. You just tilt your head to it with an understanding smile “Go get em spidey”. Miles smiles at you, and starts to stand up but be he stops “Wait,what is it that you want to tell me?”. You shake your head “No no it’s nothing important really,just school stuff”. But Miles know better and reassure you “Look i know its important, so tell me later okay?” he says as he start to walk backward to the door “Got it?”. You nod your head “got it now go!” watching him runs out of the cafe.

Well there goes your moment to confess, you sight as you take out your phone calling your best friend.

(In earth-42 before the ATSV event)

You climb up the fire escape to Miles hideout,where he and uncle Aaron would do their plans and fixing on his Prowler suit. You know this when the day his father died he sworn to keep the neighborhood safer,not only for his mom but for you too. He try his very best not to let two of his most beloved people in his life have the same fate as his dad.

You being a lovely partner support him and his ambition, you help him provide some of the material he needed. When he got hurt or beaten up, you would be there tending him on the couch, When some day comes the day where he is drown by guilt of not saving or do anything to save his dad, you will be there either holding him or be on the phone with a gentle voice to remind him that “It’s not your fault love”. You are his anchor that keep him grounded in the sea of his big responsibilities. He have to be the man of the house, helping his mom, be a student and survive in this dangerous city.

But the two of you are such a great couple, Miles would walk you to and back from school. Always walk together hand in hand through the school hallway, keeping you protected from anyone try to do anything. Secret kisses and sweet words exchange with a whisper, only a blind person could not see how in love these two couple are. The love and tenderness in his eyes whenever he look at you as you busy telling him about your day. One time the two of you spend the whole night dancing to uncle Aaron’s boombox that he borrowed, it ended with his arms around your waist while your arms around his neck gaze into one another swaying to the music.

That moment will always stuck with you, as you reach the window to his hideout. You heard music blast coming from inside, you pull the window up and crawl in making your way to your man. Miles seem busy with his claw sitting on the stool, so you gently wrap your arm around his waist from behind giving him a soft kiss on his neck “Hey love”. He hum lifting his head from hunching over the claw turning his head to give a kiss on your temple “Hey princesa” you smile at the nickname.

“You been so busy lately love, we spend little to no time together this week but on call for hours”  you push yourself away from him leaning on the table beside him. Miles continue to temper with his claw “lo siento, princesa. Promise after I finish with this I’m yours for the night” he glance at you. You look over to the other side of the table to see his black sketchbook, you reach and open it to see few of his old drawings he made. He have less and less time to draw his heart out these past weeks, you keep turning the pages when you see a beautiful drawing of you. You graze your finger over it to see the details and pop out colors. Your hear swell to see he have been drawing you on the few pages back, he drawn you when you’re in class and when you were practicing volleyball he capture your smile every single one of it.

“Aigh im done now, you good mi amada?” Miles call out to you as he grabbing his signature green and purple jacket, he turn his head to see you looking at his sketchbook eyeing on the particular piece that he draw few days back. He knows you love it when he draws you, he wrap one of his arm around your waist leaning his head on yours “Mi amada come on, you can check em out later”. You put the book down chuckling “Okay okay Mr Morales im goingg” you broke out a grin as he drag you by the waist to the same window you came in.

You spend the night getting tacos and chatting together in the cafe you love to hang out at, Miles insist of paying the drinks and your favorite dessert as you two stand patiently at the line to order. Miles held you close to him both are oblivious as what will happen to them soon. A figure dress in all black with hoodie up and mask covering half of his face, he walks up to the cashier.

“Uhm sir you need to be in line to order please” the little waitress says a bit skeptical at the man. “I’m not here for that, the register. open it” the guys says making the waitress even more confuse “E-excuse me sir?”. The guy sudden reach for his back pulling out a gun pointing straight at her “I said open the register now!”

His voice caught the attention not only to the two of you but the few teens in the cafe, once it clicked in their head what is happening some reach for the phone to dial the police but the robber turn around keeping the gun up “If any of you even think of putting your phone up I’ll fucking shoot you!”

Miles already pulling you behind him, his mind is racking for any plans so that this situation won’t get out of hand. You on the other hand holding on to your phone already dialing the 911 but you let the operator listens to the whole commotion, You hand grips tightly on Miles arm, heart beats so fast that you can hear it in your ears. “Miles, what should we do?” you whisper to him. “It’s okay, I’ll handle this okay?” you held on to him with a frown, you know he can handle a simple robbery with his Prowler suit but right now he doesn't have anything to defend himself. “don’t be ridiculous you don’t have your suit” you hiss out through your teeth furrowing your brows at him.

Miles turn his head to his face hold a serious expression,his tone is stern “Just stay out of it, let the police know what happen okay?” before you could protest Miles already make his way to the robber grabbing on to his shoulder turning him around grabbing his arm twisting it. The robber yelp at the sudden attack from Miles, the pain from his twisted arm making him let go of the gun, the weapon fall to the floor as the two struggle accidentally kicking the gun to your direction. You look at the gun and look at the two, you quickly reach down to the gun holding on to it so that the robber won’t take it.

The robber look at the gun and then up to you, the look on that guy’s face strike fear in you, you hand starts to tremble holding the gun. The robber punch Miles straight to his face,this time without his mask the pain makes Miles stumble to the side making the robber charge towards his terrified partner. “Give that to me bitch!” He grab on to your arm so hard that it is starting to hurt, but you determine to keep holding on to the gun.

Miles shake his head to relieve the pain slightly to see his partner and the robber are fighting over the gun, in panic he rush over to them “(Y/N)!”. Suddenly everything turns slow mo, the robber tug the gun hard from your grasp turning it towards you and

BAM!! BAM!

Two shots have been released, a searing pain runs through your abdomen and chest. The blows making you stumble back on your feet a few time before your knees buckle underneath you, you body slammed on the floor. The sounds of people screams muffle and your vision starts to get blur.

Miles look at the scene eyes wide, ‘no,no this can’t be happening’. He rushes to your side in his head screaming ‘Please no, god no no not her too’ his hand hover over the gunshot before he softly says to you “Okay okay I'm going to turn you around baby” trying to reassure you and to himself. He carefully lift one of your side to look at the gunshot to see if it went all the way through, it does. You are bleeding out a lot, loosing blood by the second. He look back to your face to see you are crying and gasping, he hold your face with both of his face, he try his best to hold on to his tears as he choke out the words “Baby listen to me you’re gonna be alright, just hold on for a little longer baby please”.

The robber realized what he had done run out of the cafe, but Miles paid no mind as he is grasping on to you. You feel yourself is slowly slipping away, your eyes locked on to the beautiful brown eyes of your boyfriend. Struggle to breath you choke out the words “I-im scared Miles”. He held on to your hand bringing it to his cheek “Im here baby I’m here” he says as a tear runs down his cheek dripping on to your cold cheek. You know it be the last time you will ever see his honey brown eyes, with a last energy you mustered “M-Miles I-”

Then silent…to Miles everything around him is muffled, he is staring into your eyes as you pass to the other side. Your warm hand is now cold In his, he already misses your voice. He hold your limp body to his chest sobbing as he chant

“I’m sorry”

(Back to earth 1610 Miles and Reader)

For some reason everything went wrong so fast in one day, you and Miles barely survive the spider arm. One after another happened in a such pace you could barely catch up but now Miles have successfully got both of you home,or not. You are waiting patiently on the rooftop of his apartment to help him with the Spot but your eyes widened at the big graffiti on the wall of the other building, when did Mr Morales died? You remember that Miguel says his death will be in two days. The sinking feeling in your stomach is making you panic, you pieces together that you are in a wrong home, in a wrong dimension. The once lively and beautiful city turn into this dark and grimy city,the street that are always filled with people is now silence, you're in a completely different place. You run your fingers through your hair in frustration “Oh shit shit” then you walk towards the door leading to the staircase ‘I have to get Miles!’ as your hand was about to reach the door a voice came from behind the door.

Your eyes widened quickly pressing yourself to the wall blending into the shadow to see who walk out of the door, there walk out uncle Aaron and Miles. Miles on the other hand is scare and worry about you, he left you here for while and promise to come back but after he figure out he is in a different dimension he wanted to run out of his house to get to you but instead he stumble to his supposed dead uncle. “Look uncle Aaron, I gotta uh go” he try to get out of the situation “I gotta go find” his words trail  as his eyes land on the same graffiti, his dad is dead in this dimension. Before he could do anything a figure jump from the other rooftop and sucker punch Miles making him pass out straight to the floor.

You cover your mouth as you witness everything play out in front of you, not believing this is really happening. For another dimension you would have thought that uncle Aaron will be the same as your dimension uncle Aaron but no, this guy is something else. You have to save Miles and go home ASAP, you watch as Aaron slung the limp body of Miles over his shoulder turning to the other figure seems to have an exchange of conversation before the figure leap away from the rooftop to another. Aaron on the other hand walk to the fire escape stairs making his way down to the dark alleyway.

You have no other choice, you have to save Miles. You have no one else to call for help. You’re on your own, so you follow behind a few feet away from Aaron. The quiet and empty street is dark enough for you to trail without raising any of his attention, heck the street is dark enough for people in their home not to question the limp body he is currently carrying.

After a few minutes you are in a familiar window of uncle Aaron’s house, you peek inside through the window from the fire escape stair that you once went with Miles to sneak out to visit his uncle. You wait patiently as Aaron have tied Miles to the punching bag with chains and wires, Aaron answers his phone call it seems to be urgent. ‘please go out please go out’ you chant in your head and your prayer is answered as Aaron walk out of the room after he shut his phone, huh that was easy.

You push the window up and goes in as quietly as you can, your eyes glance around the dark room, completely oblivious to a pair of eyes are watching your every move from the beginning. He hope the person that his other self is looking for will be you and you walk right in to him. He got a second chance to see you again,and he intended to keep you here all to himself.

As you walk right under him, the figure dangle himself down with one of his hand try not to make any sudden noise to startle you. Before you could reach to his counterpart, he reach his hand to your shoulder gently hold on to it. You startle by the sudden contact make you turn around to see a purple neon mask staring at you, you gasp out in surprise stumble back on your feet “W-wait!” you are scare of him. You used to love his mask, you thought it look ‘cool’.

Miles quickly hold on to both of your forearm pulling you gently to him, he unmask himself so that you can hear his voice. His voice is gentle “Shh shh calm down mi amada its me”  he hold firmly at your forearms taking a few step closer to you. You are scare at this guy, the darkness of the room is making it hard for you to see his face but why is he talking to you like he known you before? And the voice sound so familiar. “W-who are you?”

Miles steps forward to you making you take every each step back until you are pin against the table and finally the light shine on to the person in front of you, that same honey eyes staring back at you. “M-Miles?” you stare at him eyes wide, this Miles looks different he have eye bags, slightly sunken cheek and his hair is shave and braided.

He look at you with a sad smile, you were too stun to do anything as he hold your cheek so gently “Hey mi amada, what happened to you?” his thumb grazing over a little scratch on your cheek cause by Miguel. “W-what did you just called me” you ask but this Miles pay no mind to your question “It’s alright I’m here now I won’t let anything happen to you,not this time”. Your mind is racing, why is he calling you my beloved? Why does he seem to miss you? Your other half is also here…well was here. Your eyes held sympathy at him now “Were you close?”

Miles saddened at your words “What are you saying mi vida, we are close” you shake your head at him taking his hand that is holding your cheek moving it away from your cheek “No no im not her Miles please” he grasp your hand pinning them to the table “We belong together mi amor, you belong to me” he lean closer to you, now chest to chest. You tremble slightly fear of this Miles behavior.

(1610 Miles POV)

Miles open his eyes, his head rings as he try to focus on his vision but as he open his eyes to see you are pinned down by somebody. Miles see your eyes make contact with his, your eyes are begging for him to help. But he can’t do anything but to dangle helplessly. The person pinning her to the table hold her chin turning her chin“Ah ah attention to me mi vida” Miles are even more confuse as to why this stranger is calling you endearing name that only use if you have an intimate relationship. “Please…you have to let me go, I-im not who you think I am” she whimper as you try to move away from the person but he shushed her “Shh mi princesa”

Miles heart burned slightly to see this person calling you different endearing names, its like he is talking to his lover and the tender touches is like he holding a treasure. Miles have been the few person that you trust and comfortable enough for physical touch, the warm hugs you share and the hand holding as you walk together. To see this complete stranger to just touch you it triggers his protectivenes and his, hidden feelings for you. “Hey! Let go of her man!”

(Back to third POV)

Miles lean back slightly a lopside smile tug on his lips before he lick his teeth “So, he’s awake” he still keep you pin to the table. “What so special about him hm? Tell me mi princesa” he reaches over to the side for one of his claw. “Base on the first name term you been calling him, you’re not even together,you’re not special to him” he hold his gaze onto you, hoping for you to understand his side and stay. Your heart squeeze painfully at his words, you two are nothing more than a friend.

“But to me, you’re my treasure, mi amor” his eyes is pleading at you, “He have all this fancy power but he can’t even get you home safe, mi princessa don’t you see? You’re here for a reason, to be here by my side together again”

Miles shake his head ‘no no no that’s not true (N/N) don’t listen to him’, he does care for her, he always have, you are special to him. You have been with him from the beginning, when you stand up to him to Miguel his heart swell to see you will always be by his side even when the others are againts him. He doesn’t want to lose you. “No don’t listen to him (Y/N)” Miles voice seems to annoy this other Miles.

“You’re so beautiful..I have miss your alluring voice talking to me, your soft touches” he put on his claw. “Why would you want to be with someone like him” his voice is lace with venom, he hate his other self to not cherish you like he would.

“Who are you..what do you want from her” Miles eyes glare at the back of this guy skull, he heard him chuckle “I’m” he pause before turn his head “I'm Miles Morales. But you,you can call me the Prowler” the other Miles says as he glare at the dangling spider.

Miles eyes widened to see himself with full on Prowler gear and a braided hair,he look much more mature here. Miles put the pieces of puzzle together in his head,In this dimension he too have his version of (Y/N), after hearing the names he have been calling it seems his other self is truly in love with not only earth 42 version of (Y/N) but from 1610 dimension too. “Look man…I know you have history with her but you can’t keep her here…you have to let us go”

The Prowler Miles walk up to near him “And let YOU keep her?” he raises his claws powering it up curling his claws into a fist “why would I do that” he put the fist beside his head.  

You watch the two Miles, one is glaring to the other while the other is looking at the other with an eyes burning with determination. Determined to get you out of here…but the question is

Who will you choose?

(the end)

[3rachasdomesticbanana]

Crazy in Love | Han Jisung

Saw a post awhile back saying that they wanted to see a Jisung/Joker smut. I wrote this months ago but wasn't sure how I felt about it so it's just been sitting in my drafts. I wouldn't really say there's a plot with this one.

Synopsis: You're bored and wanna play. Who cares if J.One is in a meeting for world domination? It's never stopped you before. He'll ruin your makeup and end lives just fine.

Pairings: Crime boss Jisung x Female Reader

Content Includes: smut, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, Dom Jisung...sort of?, slight degradation and name calling, brief mention of violence and guns, hair pulling, I'm sure I forgot something lol

Want more smut? Follow the 🍌

“Mista J!” you sing-song, skipping into the room wearing nothing but a red and black lace bra and leather shorts too short to be considered anything but underwear.

Jisung sits surrounded by his worthless minions at the head of the table. They all pretend you don't exist, of course. Not one eye looks in your direction; if they did… well, their brains would decorate these four walls. Like the king he is, Jisung sits on a throne of premium leather that you were handed when you walked into the store. Really, the fancy schmancy furniture store just gave you whatever you pointed at. Okay, fine, maybe it had something to do with the two double-barrel sawed-off shotguns you held, but that's beside the point.

There's nothing too good for your Jisungie. There's not a thing you wouldn't do for this man. You would die for him, you would kill for him, raise hell with him, making the city cower as king and queen. You love every moment of it. Straddling and looking pretty on Jisung's lap, you kiss him. It’s sweet on your end, but he takes it a step further, making it hot and messy, drawing porn-worthy moans from you.

"Mmm, Mista J.One… If I didn't know better, I'd say you were trying to fuck me on this table right in front of everyone," you tease, a mischievous glint in your eyes. He responds with a wicked, deadly grin that sends a rush of heat to your core.

"Lovely, I had to kill at least a dozen men after the last time. I can't risk that happening now, can I, pet?" he says, his voice low and dangerous. His eyes flick up to the center of the room where his men sit, the intensity of his gaze daring any of them to look in your direction.

The way he glares, daring anyone to even glance at you, thrills you to your core. The reckless and dangerous aura he exudes turns you on, knowing he's willing to burn the entire world down for you, taking down anyone who dares to look at you. You pout and wiggle your hips, a soft whine escaping your lips as you feel him, hard and ready, pressing against you.

“Let me play, baby,” you whisper, leaning into him and licking the heart-shaped spider web tattoo on his neck.

He groans and shivers, bucking his hips up, making you squeal with delight and lust as his zipper brushes against your cunt. The damned leather is getting in the way of feeling more than you want, but that's okay; your mind is set on something bigger and better. You wriggle again, and he growls, the sound reverberating deep within you. Any other person would be scared, but you eat it up, craving more.

“What are you waiting for, lovely? Get on your knees for me,” he demands, his voice soft and dark, like feathers on a raven.

You almost fly up from his lap with excitement, hurrying to kneel between his thighs, looking up at him through your long lashes. The thing about this throne that caught your eye was the little footrest it came with. It's your favorite spot. Some days you sit there just waiting for him to use you any way he pleases. Your excited, maniacal giggles echo throughout the room as you reach behind your back to unclasp your bra. Your breasts bounce free from their confines, and you swing the garment around your head like a lasso, letting it fly free. You have no clue where it lands, but from the sounds of it, it seems to have landed on some poor guy's head.

Jisung smirks and cocks his head to the side, slowly looking in the direction of the unfortunate soul. "Oopsie," you whisper, reaching out to unwrap the present in front of you.

When Ji is satisfied that the man won't move, he looks down at you with his cock in your hands. You marvel at the size, as always, appreciating him, worshiping every inch of him. With loose fingers, you guide your hand up the length of his cock, feeling the heat radiate from the impressive muscle. Your mouth waters in anticipation and you smile up at him.

"Oh, Mista J, you're so hard for y/n." you purr, your mouth getting closer to the head of Jisung's cock.

The leather squeaks when he grips the arm of the chair, letting you take the lead... for now. You are his queen, after all—his beautiful nightmare. Damn it, if he didn’t have to go through with this fucking meeting, you would be bent over the table, drooling while he pounded his cock into every one of your fucking holes. Jisung is pissed, but only a little. These fuckers in the room better not dare look at you while his trigger finger is itchy.

With a wave of his hand, the meeting resumes, and you can hear the men shift uncomfortably, speaking about whatever plan for world domination Jisung's genius mind concocted. You ignore it all, too focused on watching the precum increase the more you play with Ji’s cock. So much more fun than any video game you were playing moments ago. You need him to make a mess of your makeup.

Every touch, every stroke sends a jolt of pleasure through both of you. Jisung’s eyes, dark and intense, flicker with a blend of rage and lust as he watches you. He’s a volcano on the verge of eruption, held back by the thinnest thread of control. Your breath shakes as you feel the weight of his cock in your hand, the slickness of his precum making each movement smoother, more urgent.

He exhales sharply, a barely audible groan escaping his lips. The power you hold over him in this moment is exhilarating, each pump of your hand drawing a reaction from him.

"Such a pretty cock you have, Ji," you whisper, blowing cool air over him. You watch with delight as he makes it bounce for you, the sight eliciting a soft, approving hum from your lips.

More crazed laughter from you rings out through the room, and Jisung loves it. He revels in the way you make the men in the room flinch. They're just dying to look at you, their fear mingling with desire.

"All the better to fuck your pretty mouth with, y/n, and that pretty cunt of yours," he replies, putting a crude emphasis on the word "cunt" and laughing loudly.

His laughter is just as insane as yours, but far more psychotic and unhinged. That's because he is certifiably insane. You would know; you're the one who diagnosed him. His psychosis, however, makes you feel safe. It's almost as if it connects you two in a way that psychology cannot explain. The two of you put on a show for the men in the room, mentally synchronized and wondering who will be the first to break. Knowing that cold steel is right underneath the chair, Jisung will make quick work of eliminating the weakest one.

When you flick your tongue out to lap up the liquid that now coats the tip of his cock, he shudders and leans his head back, licking his lips. The voices around the room waver, but they continue as if you aren't here. Good boys. Now it's time for Jisung to be a good boy for you and lose his mind. You gasp in delight and lick your lips, humming.

“Mmm, so tasty. Whaddya say, J One? Can I be greedy tonight?” Batting your lashes up at him, you grin.

His hand grabs the back of your neck tightly, but not uncomfortably, and he leans down, getting closer to your ear.

“Take it all and leave no drop behind, and you'll get a reward for being so good.” He slams his mouth onto yours in a crushing kiss, both physically and spiritually.

He leans back, fingers massaging your scalp, petting you while watching whatever presentation his men are rambling about. Your tongue gets to work, starting at the base, trailing up and over every ridge and vein along his cock. You lick every surface, coating him and savoring how his hands begin to become less caressing and more rough. The sound of voices fades into the background. All your focus is on Jisung and his cock now.

Heavy and warm against your tongue, you take him deeper and deeper, further than you've ever allowed yourself to go. He lets out a slow, deep groan and fists your hair when the head of his cock presses against the back of your throat, and you keep going. It's hard to focus on your breathing, to keep it steady and even, when he's making those sounds. You've never heard him sound as desperate as he does now. He doesn't care who hears him or sees him vulnerable like this though. Only an idiot would use this moment against him.

The feel of his fingers tightening in your hair, the taste of him on your tongue, the vibrations of his groans echoing through your body, it's better than any psychedelic drug in the world to you. You can feel the tension in his thigh muscles, the way his hips involuntarily twitch, seeking more of the pleasure you're giving him. Jisung's breaths become ragged, his control slipping with each movement of your tongue and each press of your lips.

“Shit, lovely. Fuck, mm.” he whispers, closing his eyes momentarily before opening them again to survey the room.

You know there's no way he's paying attention to anything but your lips wrapped around him, and you're right. Jisung couldn't care less if anyone was watching; he'd check the footage from the cameras later and deal with anyone who thought it was a good idea to watch you suck him off. For now, he loves how amazing you feel as you force his cock deeper down your throat. He doesn't mean to make the noises he does, but how could he hold them back when his queen loves hearing him be so vocal? He can feel your smirk, knowing that you have him wrapped around your finger.

Your tongue swirls around the head of his cock, savoring the taste and the way his body tenses with each movement. Every moan and groan that escapes his lips fuels your determination to take him deeper, to push him further into ecstasy. His hands fist your hair more gripping it tightly, to steel himself against the overwhelming pleasure.

"That's my lovely baby. Ah—yeah, gonna fuck you till you can't stand later, y/n. Do you hear me?"

You hum in response, the vibration of your lips sending shivers through his body. He whines and growls, balling his free hand into a tight fist, so tight that his knuckles start to turn white.

"Fuck, babe… gah!" He stiffens his legs, forcing himself not to buck up and make you choke on his length. He wants to wait until you've taken him all the way down your throat for that. "Ke-keep going. Yeah, nice and s... s-slow," he continues in a husky, breathy whisper.

Once you have every inch of him in your mouth, he waits for you to pull up a couple of inches before forcing your head back down. You gag and cough as he repeats the motion again and again. Your eyes water, and tears stream down your face from the relentless thrusting of his cock hitting your throat. He's fucking your face now, using your mouth like a fleshlight, controlling you by your hair. And you're soaking through your panties, coating the leather shorts with your arousal.

“Fuck, mm! Y/n... wrap your lips tighter. Mhm, just like that, baby. That's a good girl.”

You want to rub your clit so badly, but you'll topple over backward if you let go of the hold you have on Jisung's thighs. So, you squeeze your legs together tightly, releasing over and over while Ji has his way with you. His pre-cum oozes down your throat, steadily leaking like a faucet. The friction you're creating feels so good you could cum just from that. Your moans vibrate more, sending him into a feral frenzy. He feels his balls tighten, and he gets louder, grunting each time he rams his cock down your throat.

Jisung filling your mouth completely so harsh and fast is overwhelming. You can taste the salty tang of his pre-cum mixing with your saliva, creating a slick, warmth that coats your tongue. Each thrust makes your pussy ache with need, the pressure in your core building feeling almost unbearable. The heat of his body, the firm grip on your hair, makes your head spin.

His thrusts become more erratic and his grunts turn into desperate moans. You can feel the pulse of his cock on your tongue, the way it twitches and hardens even more.

“Daddy's little monster sucks cock so good. Isn't that right, gentlemen?!” Jisung questions loudly. A few agree hesitantly, not knowing how to answer, and those few would be gone by morning.

Why? Because how would they know that you're good if they weren't watching your performance? Jisung is a smart man; most psychopaths are. With a smirk and a moan, he thrusts upwards while pushing your head down into his lap. Your makeup is a mess, just the way you wanted. Tear streaks run down your face, and you're satisfied with your appearance. You'll be even more satisfied when he cums and even more so when he fucks you later.

“Every. Drop. Y/n. Swallow every fucking drop I'm about to give you. You ready, baby? I'm so fucking close.” he grinds out, gritting his teeth and his grip on your hair tightens painfully making you wince.

His hips jerk as he forces you down, the rough fabric of his pants scratching your cheeks, adding to your ruined face. Your heart pounds in your chest, matching the rhythm of his increasingly erratic thrusts. The sounds of his grunts and your muffled moans create a symphony of depravity echoing off the walls.

Jisung's mind is a funhouse of madness. If you were to open it up right now, the maniac's mind would be full of murder, mayhem, and you. It's a joke the way you make him feel—the best joke ever. How hilarious it is that a woman like you can make him weak, make him shiver all over, and become a moaning, whining mess. Your lips look so tantalizingly puffed out around him he almost wants to coat them with his cum, but he did say for you to swallow every drop, and he's a man of his word. He sees everything through, no matter how tempting it is. The humming you're doing on his cock is driving him madder than he already is. Oh god, do your lips feel so good to him. Jisung growls deep in his throat, a guttural sound that signals his impending climax.

“Take it, baby. Take it, y/n. Right. Fucking. Now. Oh, fuck!” His hands force your head down as he shoots rope after rope after rope of cum down your throat.

It hits the back of your throat forcefully and pools there until you relax, letting the warm, salty liquid easily go down. You swallow every drop he gives you, just like he told you to, the action drawing a final shuddering moan from him. Another growl and he's quickly pulling your head back and picking you up. You gasp for air as he spins you around and lays your stomach flat against the hard white surface of the table.

“GET OUT!” he yells, and every man in the room scatters. The one with your bra still on his head tosses it onto the table with shaky hands, sporting a very uncomfortable-looking hard-on. “Fuck if I'm waiting to fuck you.”

Your tight shorts are forced down roughly, and he rams his cock into your cunt, making you scream. He’s rough, really rough, and his thrusts are fast, creating a delicious mixture of pleasure and pain. Pain and pleasure, pleasure and pain—mix the two, and you've got the base of you and Ji’s relationship.

“Harder, Jisung, ah! Fuck me harder, please.” you beg him, and he laughs maniacally again.

He smacks your ass before reaching around and grabbing you by the neck. The slapping sounds of your bodies coming together are so loud that they cover up your yelps of pain when he does as you asked. It hurts so good you become incoherent; you don't even hear Jisung when he says that this will be all you're good for. It's a joke, his best yet if he's honest with himself, which he won't be. He'll pretend that he keeps you around just to fuck but he knows Gotham only has one queen, and that's you. He just doesn't want to admit that the way your cunt holds him and pulls him in, is the reason for his insanity now.

“Fuck, I'm gonna cum again, y/n.” his legs tremble with each long stroke inside you.

“C-cum, Jisung! Oh god, I'm there. Right… right…” Inhaling deeply, you let go, moaning loudly cumming on Jisung's cock and he follows you, filling your cunt.

“That’s my lovely—mmph! Filling your pussy to the brim. My sweet, deranged cum slut.” He pulls you back into him by your throat, finding your mouth and placing a possessive kiss on your lips. “Surrender your existence to me, y/n and let’s watch the world burn, darling.”

“Everything that I am, Mista J you already own. Let the ashes rain, baby!” You throw your head back with a crazed laugh and Jisung joins you, holding you tight in his arms.

✧ 𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔏𝔦𝔰𝔱 ✧

@resi4skz @3rachasninja @moonlightndaydreams @rylea08 @hanjiphile @krayzieestay @oddracha @ldysmfrst

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[mafiadad5]

Kalopsia

( ka • lop • sia) - The delusion of things being more beautiful than they really are.

Jaehyun x femreader ft. Doyoung

Description- I went back to my college town, my dad worried about me and my safety makes sure to load me with a bodyguard to be safe, little do I know it turns into a whole web of secrets, lies, and history that shouldn’t have been dug up.

Word count- 11.6k

Genre- mafia au (not corny I swear), smut 18+, bodyguard au

Warnings- slight degradation, praising, oral (fem and male receiving), unprotected (plz wear protection yall T.T), 3sum, overstimulation, guns and blood (not too much), alcohol.

No proof read cause heh…

Authors note- hi my loveys! This is my first time writing something with actually plot and full (multiple) smut, I hope you like and please feel free to comment or dm with your thoughts:) I will like to say that the way I deceive them in the story is nothing like their personalities irl and I DEFINITELY do not see them like this. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy 🎀!

"Hey y/n."

The staff tapped my shoulder as I woke up. "What's up?" I said, removing my headphones from my ears, placing them on my neck. "Well, it's just that your dad is gonna explode if you sit in the plane for another 15 minutes." He said, pointing to his watch. "Oh shit, thank you, Leon." I got up, grabbed my bag, and headed out of the plane, my father waiting for me with a stern face. "Y/n." He said, a smile appearing as he took me into a huge bear hug. "Hey, Dad." I smiled, him kissing my forehead as he hugged me one more time. "Let's go home, I know you're exhausted." He said as Leon grabbed my bags, placing them into the trunk as me and my father got into the car. "I know you're tired and I'm sorry to do this to you on the first day you're back, but get dressed because we're having a dinner meeting tonight." I paused, looking at him. "Dad, already?" He smiled generously, taking a sip of water. "You know the drill Y/n, I don't make the rules."

"You literally do though."

After a long car ride home, we finally made it to our house, it was as glamorous and beautiful as I remembered. I got out of the car, instantly going to the garden, my favorite place, my dad screaming at me to not forget about the dinner. I sat on the bench, the beautiful lake shimmering before me.

"I didn't know you were back butterfly?"

I heard from beside me as I turned. "Marie?" I said as I excitedly ran up to her, giving her a big hug. "Where have you been I thought you quit years ago?" I laughed. "I would never." She said as she smiled, grabbing my hand, sitting down beside me on the bench. "Well, I was going to quit, but I decided to stay my dear."

"So then where's Margot? Or does she hate me? She stopped responding to my messages ages ago, is she mad I left for college in another country?"

Marie paused for a moment, her face changing into a sadder expression as she grabbed my hand, avoiding eye contact. "I'm afraid Margot is gone now." She said, swallowing every tear that was about to fall out of her crystal brown eyes. "Gone where?" I turned to her.

"She is dead, the Korean gang got to her. I tried to save her, but it was far too late."

A tear rolled down her face as I grabbed her hand. "No," I said, there was no way. "She was only a worker why would they even come for her?"  "Y/n when we all tell you to be careful, it's for your own good. They would do anything to get your dad upset. They don't want him dead; they want him put away." "I understand." I said as I pulled her into a hug. "You need to quit then go far away." She broke the hug, looking at me in sorrow. "It's far too late, since I've worked for your dad, I will always be a target. Besides, my only job now is to keep you safe, I don't have much to live for anymore."

She gripped my hand tighter looking me in the eyes. "You should be safe because no one knows your location and where you go to school, it was the safest option. Promise me y/n, promise me you'll be careful, don't go out to parties or do anything stupid ok?" "I promise." I said as I gave her one last hug. "Now go get dressed for the meeting dear." I left her there on the bench, as I walked up to my room, checking my phone for the time. I had 3 hours till dinner, so I just decided to chill.

It was time for dinner and Leon walked me down to the meeting, my dad and his partners sitting around the table, Marie giving me a slight smile before turning back serious again. "Hello everyone thank you for showing up, especially my lovely daughter who left school to attend tonight, I promise you'll be flown back tomorrow. We have some important things to talk about." Everyone sat silently, the only noises were my dad and knives and forks gliding on their plates. "The Koreans are starting to make a move now. We need to talk about your roles." I sat, wondering why I was invited to this meeting.

Everyone was quiet, still not saying a word, but we all wondered the same thing. Why now?  Someone cleared their throat, making it known that they wanted to speak. "How are they making a move now? They haven't been active for years." My dad looked at his plate, looking back up clenching his jaw. "That's because they know there's something I can't protect anymore." He looked at me, sorrow in his eyes as Marie looked at me as well. "I hired new bodyguards, bodyguards I can trust. Y/n he will assist you, when I say assist, I mean he will keep you safe, but the decisions you make are up to you, there's little I can do from here... you're in control of your own life now."

"I understand Dad."

He wiped his mouth, setting down his napkin. "Now..." he cleared his throat. "I know one of you is a traitor, I invited you in here to let you make your last call, and tell them everything you've heard in this meeting, and also inform them that if they even so, go into the same room as my daughter, they are dead. Leon, please escort Y/n to her room, I change my mind, she needs to leave tonight." He walked up to me, giving me a big kiss on the forehead. "I love you, you're my everything, my only daughter, my life. Stay safe y/n, your bodyguard will be waiting for you when you land."

"I love you too dad."

A tear fell down my eye as I hugged him tightly, Leon tapping on my shoulder, "The planes ready princess, we have to go, your stuff is ready." I went into my room, grabbing the stuff that Leon missed, giving my home one last look before getting into the car. One thing about this lifestyle is that it's nice, but so unpredictable. I might come back and the whole house would be destroyed.

The car and plane ride were long, and I pretty much slept the whole time, waking up to Leon tapping my shoulder softly. He helped me out of the plane, my luggage already outside. "Thank you, Leon." I said walking to the car, going to the driver's seat before someone stepped out in front of me. He had silver hair and beautiful clear skin, his cheekbones were sunken in, and his dark eyes stared daggers into mine. "Hello, you must be y/n?" He said, not moving an inch, still staring at me. "Yes? And who are you supposed to be?"

"I'm Jaehyun, your bodyguard."

He smiled, taking off his black glove, and reaching out to shake my hand. Before I could reach out to shake his hand, Leon held up his gun to him. "That's a Korean name." He looked at him, smiling while holding his hands up. "I'm just a bodyguard, nothing more nothing less." Leon came up to us, pushing me away from him, holding up the gun to his forehead. "Liar."

"Wait, Leon,"

I said, them both turning to me. "Stop Y/n." He said turning back. "No you stop... get in the car." I said to Jaehyun, he instantly sat back in the car, Leon turning to me with a frustrated look on his face.

"Do you trust me Leon?"

"Yes but..."

"Stop it, if you trust me then let me go with him. I'll be safe. That's my bodyguard ok. The Korean gang is not stupid, he wouldn't have said his real name. Let me go." I said, holding onto his hands. "I just don't want you to get hurt Y/n, you're my responsibility." "I'm not 12 anymore Leon, I'm my own responsibility. It's ok, let me go I'll see you soon ok." He kissed my hand, letting them go as he turned to the car before turning back. "Ok, ok. Please stay safe princess, I'll see you soon." He gave me one last look before getting back on the plane, blowing me a kiss, smiling before he left, just like he always did when I was younger.

"Ok princess, are you ready to go?"

I turned around to see him out of the car. "Don't call me that." I said as I walked to the passenger side, him following closely behind me, opening the car door for me. "Let's go mama." "Don't call me that" I said as he shut the door, hopping into the driver's seat, driving away shortly after.

 "Where are we?"

I said. We pulled up to a small house in an abandoned area, the only thing lighting the area was a dimly lit warm house light on the outside. "This is where we're staying now" he said, getting out the car, coming over to the passenger side to let me out. "No, I want to go to my house." He popped the trunk, getting my suitcase, walking up to the door entrance as I paced behind him like a lost child. "You will, tomorrow when we go get your stuff. He unlocked the door to the house, opening the creaking door, flipping on the lights exposing the space.

"Um."

The space was small, everything was in the same room except the bathroom, and when I say bathroom, I mean just the toilet and sink. The shower was in the open space as well. "This is a little small." I murmured, walking into the enclosed space after kicking my shoes off, sitting on the couch that sat a few feet away from the bed. "Maybe just a tad bit." He said, taking off his gloves and shoes at the door, walking around the kitchen. "Daddy wouldn't buy me anything this small, what's going on?" He scoffed, walking to the couch, sitting beside me.

"Don't be a spoiled brat, this is fine."

I looked at him, rolling my eyes as he tried to get comfortable, hitting the couch beside him with a distasteful look on his face. "This couch is hard as a rock." I looked at him. "I thought this was fine." I said mockingly as he got up from the couch, doing the same hitting motion to the bed, ignoring what I had just said.

"Better."

"You care about my comfort that much?"

I said, getting up from the couch going into the small kitchen, getting a glass of water. "No, I care about my comfort." He said, looking at the open shower, then looking back at me with wide eyes and a small grin. "You better hope there's another shower here somewhere." "It doesn't matter anyways," I looked at him "You're not staying here."

He looked at me in silence, taking his blazer and white dress shirt off, exposing his black tank top underneath, the tight elastic fabric hugging his toned torso. I'm not gonna lie, I stared a little, maybe even stuttered but he was literally perfect. "Can we just go back to my apartment so we have separate rooms." He looked down, unbuttoning his trousers and pulling down the zipper before looking back up at me. "Your apartment gets raided and I'm in another room or taking a shower, then what? We're both dead." I stayed quiet, examining his body up and down, completely in a daze as his hands gently fiddled with the waistband of his pants.

"Am I distracting you?"

My attention instantly geared to his face, his eyebrows lifting teasingly. "I have to use the bathroom." I said, going to the small enclosed room with only a sink and toilet. "If you're going to touch yourself I want to see." He said, his eyes following me to the bathroom as he chuckled lightly.

"You're sick."

I said, before closing and locking the door. Pulling out my phone to text Leon.

—————————————————————————————

Leon why did my dad get me a house so small?

Y/n why didn't you ask him that yourself 😂?

Leon this is not a laughing manner, you know he's going through a lot, I don't want to sound ungrateful😭.

Don't ask me y/n, are you 👌 ?

Yes

Well goodnight princess, text me if you need anything👍

Ok Leon, goodnight lol.

—————————————————————————————

I sat in the bathroom for another 30 minutes, walking out to find jaehyun sleeping in the bed. My bed. I didn't mind though, he was cute when he slept anyways. I took off my pants, getting in the cold white sheets. Wasn't the most comfortable bed I've slept in, but I'll be ok. I sat scrolling on my phone a little, jaehyun moving around in the spot beside me, groaning slightly as he tried to fix his position, tugging the cover from me.

"Great, he's a rough sleeper"

I whispered out, laying down, facing my back towards him, tugging the cover back. I sat there, staring outside in the backyard, a dimly lit field fading into a dark void. It was intimidating, but somehow I felt safe. My eyes slowly closed as I drifted off to sleep as well.

"Y/n" I heard a faint whisper in my ear, I turned around, thinking it was just in my head, pulling the cover over my ears. I felt someone flick my nose softly, enough for it to wake me up. I opened my eyes slowly. "Boo." Jaehyun laid in front of my face, wide eyed as I jolted away violently. "What the fuck." He smiled, sitting up grabbing his phone. "Well, we have to go get some stuff from your apartment, do you have anywhere else you would like to stop?" He turned to me, my eyes still halfway shut as I nodded. "Where?" I got quiet, turning the other way, placing the cover back over my shoulders.

He jerked the cover off of me, my bare legs feeling a cool breeze as I tried to snatch back the cover, but failed. "You couldn't even put pants on before getting in bed with me?" I sighed, sitting up before grabbing the cover back from him covering myself up. "We're not 12, it's not that serious."

"Don't hide your legs now, they're pretty. Can't wait to make them shake."

My face filled of unamusement as I got up from the bed, stretching before going to the huge window I looked out of last night. " Weirdo" he got up, inching closer to me "Oh you know you want me to-" I cut him off abruptly, "We need window curtains I don't trust this."  He sat on one of the bar stools in the kitchen, staring directly at my ass as I watched his reflection in the window.

"You're safe enough with me don't you think mama?"

"Stop staring at my ass."

I said before turning around. His lips folded into a grin as he turned the other way, trying to ignore me. His torso curved as his elbows rested on the granite counter. He had blue and black plaid pajama pants that loosely hung onto his waist, god he was so sexy. He sat his hand in his lap roughly, but delicately, waving it around making my attention gear to his face. "You seem to get distracted by my body easily," he said getting up from his chair, making his way towards me as I backed away from him.

"Do you want me?"

I stayed quiet, backing up until my back hit the window. "Do you think I'm attractive y/n?" I stopped for a second, silently looking at his face, examining his distinct, delicate features. "Mmm... No." I smiled, moving past him going to my suitcase. "Didn't you say we had places to go? Let's go then." I said, going through the clothes in my suitcase. I heard nothing but a door slamming as I turned around, jaehyun going into the bathroom. "Damn, I was just kidding." I whispered, laying back down in the bed after getting dressed. It was a while and he still didn't come out the bathroom, my eyes got heavy quickly as nothing but sounds of nature from the woods leaked into the house, causing me to doze off.

"Get up."

I felt someone shaking my body as I was rudely awoken. "Hmm?" I popped up, rubbing my eyes. I looked out the window, it was completly dark, the only thing lighting the house was a warm lamp that sat on the nightstand beside the bed. "We're leaving now." he said, walking to the nightstand with the lamp, opening the drawer grabbing a silver and black pistol, opening the magazine checking the ammo before stuffing the gun into his waistband.

He turned to me as I sat obviously staring sharply at his every action, raising his eyebrows before turning away from me, heading to the door to put on his shoes. I examined his outfit, a loose fit t-shirt with loose fit jeans. "Oh, so you're dressing casually now?" I said getting up, meeting him at the door, putting my shoes on, grabbing my jacket. He ignored the comment, opening the door, locking it behind me as I walked out.

We made it to my apartment, Jaehyun telling me we didn't have enough time to stop for curtains. I went to unlock my door, but something didn't feel right. I turned the door knob with hesitation, the door opening slowly as I peeked inside, taking a step back, leaving the door slightly cracked, my face turning into a look of panic. "Hurry up, what's taking you so long." Jaehyun's voice echoed through my mind as my heart sunk to my stomach.

"Jaehyun..."

my voice was breathless as I turned to him, a face of annoyance now turning into one of worry. "I think someone broke into my house." He got in front of me, opening the door, his hand under his shirt, gripping his gun. He slowly walked into the apartment, signaling for me to follow behind him as I shut and locked the door behind me so if there was anyone there they couldn't escape. He searched the living room, his gun now up and aimed.

"Sit down"

he mouthed silently, pointing his gun to the sofa that sat in the middle of the dark room. I sat soundlessly, my leg shaking anxiously as nothing but hushed apprehension filled the house. I sat there, a million thoughts racing in my mind as I bit my nails nervously. I was knocked out of my thoughts when I heard a doorknob rustling. I sat for a second, examining the apartment ... all of the doors open. My attention automatically geared to the front door, the doorknob manically shaking.

"Jaehyun."

My voice was shaky as I got up, backing away from the couch and door.

"JAEHYUN."

Jaehyun ran into the room as a loud thud sounded. Everything else was a blur as I ran away from the chaos. The only thing I saw was the light from the apartment hallway in the doorway, and sparks. I shut the door, locking it behind me as intense gunshots and loud thuds sounded, echoing violently in my head. I went to my nightstand, grabbing my small revolver as the gunshots stopped all of a sudden, the house falling silent again. I stepped away from the door, holding my gun up as I heard shuffling coming from the living room. I was ready for anything when I heard the doorknob to the room rustling again, then knocking on the door.

"It's me baby, open the door."

The voice was familiar, and gave me a bit of relieve as I took a deep breath, aiming my gun to the floor.

"Open the door."

I heard him say again. An uneasy feeling settled in my stomach as I held my gun up again, aiming it at the door. I walked slowly as the uneasiness and suspicion of if it was really him raced through my mind. I unlocked the door slowly, quickly opening it holding my gun up, Jaehyun's dark eyes meeting with mine.

"Aren't you a little too pretty for guns?"

"Fuck Jaehyun." I placed my gun on the tv stand, wrapping my hands around him as I pulled him into a tight hug. His hands wrapped around my waist, pulling me deeper into his body, his scent made me almost breathless.

"God look at you."

I said, his white T-shirt now covered in blood. "Get your things quick, before the police get here."

We made it out of the apartment safely, avoiding the police as we got into the car, driving back home. "I'm just gonna stay out here for a little, you can go inside." He nodded reassuringly, stepping inside the house. "Well, I'm going to shower." He shut the door, leaving me outside alone. I took in the fresh air, sitting silently thinking about my life, how chaotic things are all the time, and how surprisingly that wasn't even the first time someone tried to kill me. I reached into my pocket, grabbing a heart-shaped locket, feeling the exquisite patterns that laid on the front of the jewelry, the cold tarnished silver chilling my fingers.

I held onto it tightly, closing my eyes taking in the fresh air, thinking about all the memories, about what my life would be if I wasn't born this way. At times, I wish my life was just normal, I barely had friends growing up, not real ones anyways, well except for one, but all good things come to an end. Thirty minutes passed, I was knocked out of my thoughts when I felt a vibration in my pocket. I grabbed my phone out of my back pocket, Leon's name popping up on my notification center.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Hey princess😊

Hey leon

Just wanted to text you to see if you're 👌

Yea im good leon, im really tired though, so i'll talk to you later.

copy 👍 goodnight princess

goodnight leon

-----------------------------------------------------------------

I walked back into the house, taking my jacket off at the door. Jaehyun sat on the couch manspreading, watching tv. His hair was slightly wet as he had a loose black shirt on, with those same plaid pants on.

"You can leave now."

He looked at me, flipping off the tv as he got up from the couch, looking me up and down. 

"Was today not enough for you to not want me to stay with you hm?" he inched closer to me, shooting daggers into my eyes.

"Nope, you can leave Jaehyun."

I said smiling, kicking off my shoes walking to the living room, going to the window. "It's my job to stay baby." He said still not breaking eye contact, his eyes following me. "Well, I'm your boss. Your boss is telling you to leave."

"Oh yeah? As far as I know, you're not my boss, you didn't hire me."

He was inching closer to me taking small steps pulling up the sleeves of his shirt, bringing attention to his muscular yet, soft hands and arms. "As far as I know, I can get you fired?"

"Fire me."

I stood there for a second, quiet, smiling slowly "You know what Jaehyun." I said, moving closer to him.

"What?"

"I think I'd rather fuck you."

I grabbed his shirt, pulling him closer to me with a mischievous smile.  "Mmm, I thought it would've been at least a week before you wanted to fuck me. He grinned, the reflection from the outdoor light sparkling in his eyes. "Don't be cocky, just right place, right time situation." He nodded, our faces inches away from each other. "And what do I get out of this mama?" He said, his voice deep and husky, his eyes going pitch black once again. "What do you what?"

He grabbed my waist, our lips separated by nothing more than a conversation, his cold fingers feeling my waist, his voice in a faint whisper

"I want to know more about you over breakfast tomorrow morning."

"Deal"

Jaehyun quickly lowered his lips down to mines, taking no time to roughly kiss me. His tongue traced my bottom lip teasingly before diving into my mouth, his hands holding onto my hips tighter, his nails clawing at my skin ever so slightly. The kiss deepened as he explored my mouth, backing me into a window, the cold glass chilling my hot back. His hands wandered up and down my body, one of them unbuttoning my pants, his lips not leaving mine.

His hands slid into my pants, his fingers dipping lower as he broke the kiss.

"Wait."

He spoke, removing his hands, looking at me in the eyes deeply.

"Didn't you say you were going to fuck me?"

He said, moving to the couch.

"Do it,"

He spread his legs, his boner poking through his pants as he sighed, setting his arms along the edge of the couch.

"Fuck me then."

I walked over to him, getting on my knees in front of him, sliding in between his legs as he smiled, giving me a reassuring nod as I teasingly fiddled with the drawstrings on his pants, slowly pulling them down, not breaking eye contact with his cold eyes. I pulled down his underwear as his eyes filled with lust and determination. I took no time to wrap my hands around his shaft, spitting on his tip as I glided my hands up and down.

"That's it baby, give me what I want."

His hand moved to my face gently stroking my cheek, the warmth of his skin sending shivers down my spine. I slowly lowered my head, his length disappearing in my mouth. "Fuck." He grunted, throwing his head back on the couch.  His hips started to move in a rhythm that matched the movement of my tongue, forcing me to take more of him.

"That feels so good baby."

He said in a desperate, but quiet moan, his hips bucking up slightly against my mouth as I took him deeper and deeper. His moans started to grow louder and more frequent, his hands finding their way to my hair, slightly tugging and guiding my mouth, his length throbbing against my tongue, demanding more.

"Fuck mama, right there, just like that."

His grip tightened on my hair, his other hand making his way to the back of my neck, guiding my movements as he pushed deeper into my mouth. His moans grew louder as I took him deeper, tears dwelling in my eyes, my tongue exploring every inch of his dick. His body tensed up as he rose his hips further and further, his hips moving faster as his length starts to twitch in my throat.

"Fuck." He choked out, throwing his head back on the couch, gripping my hair tightly as he released in my mouth.

"Damn."

He said, taking a deep breath, looking down at me, wiping my mouth and the tears that fell. I stood up in front of him. He looked up at me with a sly smirk, slipping off his shirt, his heavenly crafted abs and perfect frame fucking my mind before he even touched me.

"Come here, don't act scared now."

He said, grabbing my hand, pulling me closer. His hands wrapped around my waist, slowly moving down to my hips as he pulled down my pants and underwear in one quick motion, him looking directly at me with that same sly smirk. He pulled me even closer, kissing my bikini line, moving further and further down. He pulled me into his lap, wrapping his arms around my waist.

"You ready baby?"

I wrapped my arms around his neck. "Mhm." He lifted me up, placing his tip at my entrance, slowly sinking me onto his length. "Fuck." I whined out, his hands clawing my hips as he moved me up and down on his dick, going deeper into me every time. "Shit, like that." "This is what you wanted right?" his voice echoed in my mind as he thrusted into me faster, hips bucking up, as my eyes rolled up from the intense pleasure of his length deep inside of me.

"Look at me or I'll stop."

he said, moaning softly in between his words. I looked at him, beads of sweat dripping down his forehead, his hand moving back down to my hips, guiding me up and down. "I doubt it." I said, trying to sound as confident as possible, but not being able to hold my composure. "Oh yea? You want to test that baby?" He slammed me down harder, forcing a moan out of me. "Answer my question."

His free hand made its way up to my face, dragging my lip down with his thumb. "No." I mumbled out, throwing my head back as the intense pleasure sent shivers down my spine. He moaned out, desperate, full of need as he guided my hips sloppily. He grabbed waist, flipping us over, him now laying on top of me. He thrusted roughly as he cursed and moaned into my neck.

"Fuck you feel so good."

He whimpered out, his words vibrating on my skin as I gripped onto his hair, throwing my head back moaning loudly as my body jolted with every curt thrust. "Oh fuck I'm coming." My legs started to shake aggressively, the sensation of his deep breaths and moans on my neck mixed with the hard thrust driving me over the edge. "Well I'm not done." He said, continuing, pushing into me as my walls clenched around him, causing him to let out a quick moan.

"Fuck Jaehyun, please."

I moaned out, removing my hands from his head, placing them on his torso, trying to push him out of me. He instantly grabbed my hands, pinning them to the couch above me. "You can take it mama, I know you can." I threw my head back violently, trying to release my hands from his grasp, but failing miserably as he forced them back down. An overwhelming feeling of intense pleasure fell over my body as he thrusted harder. I shook my head before throwing it back, whining out to him.

"Do you want me to help you, or do you want to keep being bad and keep your hands pinned?"

He whispered in my ear, our bodies clapping together, making an unbearable friction. My loud moans filled the room as tears started to dwell in my eyes from the intense pleasure. "Answer me." "Help me." I mumbled out in a tired moan. He unpinned my hands, wrapping them around his neck. "Pull me when it feels overwhelming, grab my hair if you need to ok, do you understand me?" He said in my ear, his thrust slowing down, eventually stopping as he stayed inside of me. I nodded as he placed his hands beside my head on the couch to keep balance.

"I'm gonna go fast, do as I tell you or I'll stop ok."

I nodded again, his dark eyes looking at me, beads of sweat falling down his forehead slowly. "Tell me ok." He said wiping my tears. "Ok, I will." I felt him twitch inside of me, his head lowering into my neck, looking down for a second as he placed one of his hands on my waist. 

He wasted no time, thrusting quickly inside of me. I whined under him while sliding my fingers into his hair, tugging softly. "Well, that didn't take long." He groaned into my neck, teasing the soft skin with subtle kisses. "Fuck." his moaning left tingles on my neck, making their way down my spine. I clenched around his length moaning loudly as he let out panting moans, going even faster in retaliation as my walls fought against him.

"Fuck Y/n, I'm almost there."

Sweet sounds of lust echoed through the house as he desperately thrusted mindlessly, my breath hitching with every movement. I cried out for him, my hands tugging at his hair as his thrust got sloppier. "I'm there, baby." he cried out, panting over me. My legs started shaking aggressively once again, his thrust sloppy as he twitched inside of me. He lifted up my shirt as he let out a choked moan, pulling out of me, releasing his warm liquid on my stomach.

Deep breathing filled the room as he sat beside me on the couch.

"Look at what a mess you made."

He chuckled, a ring of my arousal sat at the bottom of his member.

"I can say the same thing about you." 

After a long shower, I had no energy to even get dressed, I lazily found a t-shirt, slipping it on as I sat on the couch, laying my head on the uncomfortable pillow, dozing off slowly as Jaehyun showered, falling asleep eventually.

I woke up, the bright sun shining through the window, burning my eyes as the soft sheets cooled my body everytime I moved.

"Stop moving."

An angry groan came from beside me. "Oh shut up, you're in my bed." I turned over, grabbing the cover, placing it over my head before Jaehyun pulled it back over to him. "Stop taking all the cover." I whined as he sighed, flipping over so he was facing me. "Then get closer to me sweetheart, so we can share." I looked at him, rolling my eyes before sitting up facing my back to him. "You hungry princess?" I nodded, as he handed me the cover "Here wrap yourself up, I'm going to step out for a moment, but get dressed so I can take you to the breakfast you promised me."

I nodded again, wrapping myself up, turning back to look at him, his pajama pants hanging low on his waist, his shirt hanging low on his collar bone. "Distracted again?" He said a small smirk appearing on my face as I saw him smile, his dimple leaving a distinct imprint on his cheek as he walked outside getting his keys from the nightstand

"Can you stop, no I'm not distracted." 

He made his way to the door, sliding on his shoes "Whatever you say darling- I'll call you when you need to come outside so we can leave, ok?" I nodded, getting up going to my suitcase, Jaehyun calling me about 45 minutes later telling me to come on.

I put my slipped my shoes on, walking outside to see Jaehyun waiting outside the passenger door.

"Thank you Jaehyun, you're a doll." 

An awkward smile painted his face as he shut the door, hoping in the drivers side, making sure the gates shut behind the car as he drove away.

"We're here." He gently tapped my thigh as I lifted my head from the car door. My face had lines and small indents from dozing off on the lengthy car ride. I looked outside to the small restaurant, face lighting up with excitement as I saw where we were.

"No way, I've always wanted to come here. How did you know?"

I turned to him, a questioning expression appearing on my face. He smiled, rubbing the lines on my face. "You're so pretty." His fingers slowly sliding down my face, his hand making its way to my throat, holding ever so slightly, his fingers teasing my skin.

"Is this supposed to intimidate me?"

"Is it working?"

 He looked at my lips, then back up at me again, smirking while leaning in, his hand trailing up my thigh. "A little."

"Um, Excuse me. This is not a valid parking spot..."

I quickly turned around, Jaehyun's hand releasing from my neck as we looked at the traffic officer standing outside the window. "You can't even park right?" I laughed as he found a new parking space, rolling his eyes with a smile.

"So..."

He sat in front of me, circling the rim of his water with his finger. "So..." I hummed, looking at him from across the table as he sat awkwardly. "What do you want to know?" I took a sip from my cup, my eyes squinting slightly as the tartness of the juice hit my lips.

"I want to know more about you."

"My name is Y/n, I'm from France, but moved here for college, and I'm the only child of my parents, and the only daughter born into my family. Anything else?"

He made a small smile, looking down at the table before looking back up at me. "Why do you keep a postcard of this place with you." I tensed up in my seat, looking down playing with my fork before taking another sip of juice.

"Because my mom gave it to me, it was her favorite place here."

"Oh she lives here? Where is she?"

Jaehyun said, finally taking a sip of the water he's been eyeing. I looked at him, my head tilting slightly as I raised my eyebrows. It's getting on my nerves how oblivious he's trying to act in front of my face like I'm stupid.

"She's dead, the Koreans got to her, you probably know them right?"

"I've heard a little about them, but not too much, I'm so sorry about that Y/n."

I looked at him, taking a sip from my juice.

"An apology isn't gonna bring her back Jaehyun-"

"WOOOO."

We broke eye contact suddenly, the waiter coming up to us with the food. "Thank you." He hummed, as I smiled enthusiastically, grabbing my utensils.

"There's a party I want to go to tonight."

He looked at his plate, scooping food up into his fork. "Mmm." He hummed, looking up at me. "We're going." I spoke in a demanding tone as he silently finished his food. I looked at him, finishing the last spoonful on my plate. He nodded, looking up at me. "I think you're a bit too old for parties, but hey." He looked up at me, a blank look on his face, placing a hundred dollar bill on the table to pay for the food, getting up pushing his chair in.

"First of all, I'm only 23, second it's an adult party, 21+ at a hotel so don't do that."

I said, following him outside, the cool air chilling my cheeks. "Ok well, I don't feel like getting into another gun fight so please, make sure it's safe."  He said as he opened the passenger door to the car for me, his eyes following me as I got in. "I can hire another bodyguard if you don't feel like it" I looked up at him, his hand resting on the top of the car door, his eyebrows raising up as he rolled his eyes.

"Shut up."

"Make me."

I looked up at him, a sly smirk appearing on my face like the one from last night, our eyes locking. "The same way I made you last night?" I turned into the car, looking away silently as he shut the door, getting into the drivers side and driving away, going back home.

Hours passed and the sun started to set as I got ready in front of the mirror, slipping on my black dress, struggling to zip up the back.

"Jaehyun, can you help me with this?"

I asked from inside the bathroom. He walked into the bathroom standing behind me as I looked at him from the mirror. "Can you help me with my zipper." I said, his hands finding the zipper on my dress, his fingers slightly brushing my bare back as he pulled it up slowly, looking at me through the mirror after. "Thanks." I smiled, completing the finishing touches to my lips, looking at Jaehyun still staring at me from the mirror.

"What?"

"It's just taking everything in me to not bend you over on this sink right now."

I looked at him before turning around. "Get a grip." I playfully hit his chest, pushing past him. "Plus you need to get dressed anyways."

"Ok whatever." He said as I smiled, slipping on my shoes at the door.

We made it to the hotel, the dining room a beautiful champagne color with crystal chandeliers. The last time I've been to a party like this was when I was living back at home, so yeah, a pretty long time.

"Oh my goodness I know that's not Y/n."

I heard, the blonde girl standing in front of me. "Hi, long time no see Emily." I sat there with a forced smile, hugging her gently as a man stood behind her. "This is my husband John." She pointed behind her as he gave a smug smile, waving before standing behind her quietly again. "Four years married," she smiled at me. "I must ask, are you married yet Y/n, I know you had a rough time with relationships in college?"

"No, I'm far too young you know. I know you started college late so it's not absurd for you to be married right now, but I'm exploring life."

She gave me a passive aggressive smile, nodded slowly as she took a sip from her champagne glass. "Oh ok I see, you know I was traveling the world before I went to college so I get what you mean, and do you have a job or are you still using your families money?"

"Oh my family has me under control. Speaking of families did your's finally pay your gambling debt, or did you do that on your own?”

Her eyes widened slightly before a forced grin appeared on her face. "Oh Y/n, I think this handsome gentleman behind you is trying to get through."

I looked behind me, Jaehyun standing there looking down at me, his suit fitting him almost perfectly as his bangs hung over his forehead.

"Oh no my dear, he's with me."

I smugly smiled, grabbing his arm, linking mine with his. "Oh really, wow im happy for you y/n... Well I'll leave you two to it, it was nice to see you again." She smiled before turning away, greeting other guest.

I rolled my eyes, turning to Jaehyun as he sat there with an awkward expression on his face. "I can't stand her Jae." I smiled as I rubbed his arm, the feeling of his soft, matte, velvet suit leaving small tingles on my fingers.

"I have to use the bathroom ." He smiled.

"Should I come with you?" I asked.

He shook his head no, before disappearing into the crowd. I sat there for a second quietly, holding my purse tightly in my hand as nothing but people's conversations erupted on all sides of me.

"Y/n?"

I heard from behind me, rolling my eyes slowly not wanting another tense interaction with an old peer. I turned around, forcing another smile yet again, before it dropped, my eyes widening. He was very well put together, a black blazer that almost fit him perfectly, like it was designed just for him. His hair was jet black, messily slicked back.

"Doyoung?!"

I pulled him into a hug smiling, looking into his beautiful crystal eyes as they sparkled. "I thought that was you, how have you been?" He gave a comforting smile.

"Oh I've been good, how have you been?" Before he could answer we were interrupted by Jaehyun.

"Who is this?"

He handed me a drink, looking at him with a smile, then back at me. "Omg this was like my best friend ever in college before I went back home."

"I'm Doyoung." He looked at Jaehyun with a smile, shaking his hand, Jaehyun nodding. "How about we go to the hotel bar so we can catch up without any noise?" Doyoung suggested, looking at me as I nodded in response.

We went to go sit at the bar, Doyoung asking for a vodka on the rocks. "That's a pretty strong drink, do you have a ride home?" I questioned, taking a sip of my margarita, Jaehyun sitting beside me with a sprite.

"Don't be foolish Y/n, I wouldn't drink and drive. I have a hotel room here tonight." He smiled, his eyes squinting close as he swallowed the alcohol, his nose scrunching up. "You're still as cute as I remember when you drink Doyoung."

"Um, I'm here too." Jaehyun cleared his throat as I turned back to look at him.

"Shh, I haven't seen him in forever, let us speak." I turned back to Doyoung, smiling as he chuckled slightly.

"So how have you been Doyoungie, I've missed you." His cheeks flushed light pink for a second as he smiled.

"Well, I've been pretty good, I've visited your home country Canada, and I literally could only think of you the whole time I was there." I smiled, finishing up my margarita, turning to Jaehyun giving him a small smile before turning back.

"I'm honored, I remembered you've always wanted to go there too, I'm happy for you. How's your relationship, are you still with that same girl?" He smiled, resting his hands on his crotch area, laying back in his chair comfortably.

"No, she wanted to break up after she found out we kissed."

"Are you serious? Y'all weren't even together yet."

He did a small laugh, fishing his wallet out of his pocket, placing a crisp 50 dollar bill on the bar counter.

"She thought we hooked up after, I told her we didn't, but she took it upon herself to not believe me." I raised my eyebrows, an astonished expression appearing on my face. "I cant even imagine hooking up with you."

"Let me show you."

The eyes that were once sparkly and doe'd were now darkened and sharp. "Hm?" I looked at him, trying to make sure I heard what he said correctly, or in the right context.

"Let me show you how it is to hook up with me." His voice was husky and low almost in a faint whisper.

I looked beside me to see Jaehyun glued to his phone, not removing his eyes from his screen. "What, you want him to join in? Ask, I like to try new things." He signaled for the bartender, asking for a pen and paper, writing down his hotel room number, sliding it to me.

"Come up when you've made up your mind." He said, slipping away from the bar.

I stood there still, not knowing what to do, getting knocked out of my thoughts by Jaehyun tapping on my shoulder.

"So are we going?"

He said, making me turn around to face him. "Hm?" I said, trying to pull that same card with him. "Going up to his hotel room?" His voice was possessive as he looked at me with stipulating eyes, basically demanding an answer instantly.

"Do you want to?"

"Mmm," He hummed teasingly, reaching to me, grabbing the sheet of paper out of my hand, examining it.

"I know you want to mama, so why are you asking me."

He got up from the bar stool, grabbing my waist helping me up, his dark eyes almost speaking for themselves as I made eye contact with him.

"Keep looking at me like that and I'm gonna fuck you before we even get up there." I stayed quiet, looking forward as he followed me to the elevator.

I stood there awkwardly, waiting for him to come to door, Jaehyun standing behind me.

"Oh you're here, and I'm assuming he said yes?"

He stood at the doorway, that solid black blazer turning into a sheer black one, his black pants sitting perfectly on his waist.

"Speak mama."

Jaehyun said, our bodies practically touching as his hands caressed my waist ever so slightly.

"Yea, mhm." I said, Doyoung's eyes sparkling for a second, going back to its dark demeanor immediately after.

"Well, come in." He said, shutting the door behind me and Jaehyun, leading us to the bedroom.

It was dark, nothing but dimmed blue lights lit the room. That was strange for a hotel room, but before I could even question it further I was knocked out of my thoughts by the zipper of my dress being pulled down.

"We're gonna take good care of you princess." Doyoung said in front of me, slowly pulling my dress off my shoulders.

Jaehyun gently kissed my shoulders, slowly making it to the sides of my neck. "Let me." Doyoung told Jaehyun, causing him to get from behind me. Doyoung pushed me onto the tv stand, getting on his knees in front of me as he slid the rest of my dress, along with my underwear off. Jaehyun grabbed my feet, removing my shoes as Doyoung planted kisses on my leg, slowly making his way up to my thigh.

I rested my hands on tv stand to keep myself balanced as he grabbed my hips, pulling me closer to him.

"You're already soaked Y/n, we've barely touched you." Doyoung said, teasing my folds with his fingers, causing me to suck in a sharp breath.

"Do you want it?" Doyoung questioned, his voice vibrating into my thigh, sending shivers up to my spine.

"Mhm."

My voice was desperate as I closed my eyes, his tongue entering my hole abruptly. Every time he went in deeper his nose made friction with my clit, causing  swift moans out of me. His mouth made his way to my clit, sucking and licking passionately, placing a finger into my hole.

"Fuck." I moaned out, wanting to say more, but my words getting choked up on pleasure. I looked up at Jaehyun, his eyes wandering over my body as he watched what unfolded in front of him. He placed another finger in, speeding up his pace as my arousal coated his fingers, his tounge attacking my clit.

"Oh fuck, that feels so good Doyoung. I'm almost there."

I whined out, the sounds of my moans, whimpers, and the mess he was making on my lower half sounded in the room as I threw my head back, gripping Doyoung's now completely messy hair.

He let out small moans and noises that vibrated on my clit, causing me to let out panting moans as he fingered me harshly. "Fuck, I'm there." My body stiffened as I let out a choked moan, Doyoung finishing off, looking at me as he wiped the arousal that was left on his chin.

"Fuck, so messy y/n."

He got off his knees, taking a seat beside Jaehyun on the bed, shining him a sarcastic smirk causing jaehyun to get up. He smiled, walking behind me, trailing his fingers across my collar bone leading to the back of my neck. I looked at Doyoung, his eyes dark, as he titled his head sideways slightly.

"I bet I can make you feel better." Jaehyun whispered in my ear before pushing me down, making my face fall into Doyoung's lap.

 I looked up at him to be met with a cold gaze, his hands rubbing over my head, making their way to my face, cupping and squeezing my cheeks forcing my mouth open. "You wanna do something for me princess?" His free hand made its way to his pants, forcefully unzipping them, taking out his member as I looked up at him.

Jaehyun grabbed my hands, placing them behind my back, causing my face to fall further into Doyoung's lap, my back arcing slightly. I tried to remove my hands from Jaehyun's grasp so I could use them on Doyoung, but he pushed them down, holding my wrist tightly together.

"I'm sure your pretty mouth can do well by itself." Doyoung hummed, placing his fingers on my chin causing my head to lift up.

Doyoung looked down at me, opening his mouth slightly, a small twinkle appearing in his eye as I sat my tongue on the bottom of his shaft, lifting my head as my tongue dragged up to his tip. I circled my tongue around the top as I felt Jaehyun at my entrance, teasing my hole. I let out a few shuddered breaths, Doyoung's hands finding their way to my head, softly grabbing and pulling.

"Fuck." Jaehyun cursed as he pushed into me, causing me to let out a whiny moan. I tried to look back at Jaehyun to see what he was doing, but failed when Doyoung turned my head back to his his.

Jaehyun started to pick up the pace, moving aimlessly as he went deeper making perfect thrust causing loud moans out of me. I looked up at Doyoung his eyes on my face as I lifted my head, making my back arch even more. The feeling of my hands being pressed against my back making me almost weak.

"Don't be selfish now."

I took no time setting my mouth on his tip, but this wasn't good enough for him. Doyoung pushed down my head further, my throat tightening around his length causing him to let out a desperate moan. As my head bobbed up and down on Doyoung, Jaehyun made harder thrust making my moans and the loud noises coming from my throat vibrate around Doyoung, causing him to shiver as he gripped my hair tighter.

"Shit Y/n." Doyoung whimpered out, throwing back his head as he let out small moans.

"And don't you dare come until I tell you to Y/n"

I heard Jaehyun curse from behind me, his pace now at an unimaginable speed as I cried out muffled moans around Doyoung's length. Jaehyun let out panting moans as his thrust started to get sloppier by the minute. Doyoung was no better as he let out loud cries and curses.

"I'm there Y/n." Doyoung whimpered out, his dick twitching inside my mouth, his hands grabbing my hair tighter in a way that made sure it didn't hurt. He pulled me off of him, releasing on my face as his liquid dripped down.

"So pretty baby." He smiled, rubbing the tears he created off my eyes.

My moans took no time to escape my mouth as Jaehyun did a few more rough thrust causing him to finish.

"Fuck." 

He cursed, removing himself out of me. I took a few deep breaths, looking at Doyoung, his attention gearing towards Jaehyun.

"Where the fuck did you get a condom from?"

Jaehyun looked up at him, shrugging as he threw the used rubber in the trash can.

"Did he make you come baby?" Doyoung looked down at me as I shook my head no.

"Aw, do you want to come baby?"

He looked up at Jaehyun then back down at me as I nodded.

"Would you like me to use a condom too princess?"

He said, helping me up on the bed, my back hitting the cold sheets as my head laid on a pillow. I nodded again causing Doyoung to turn back to Jaehyun again, raising his eyebrows as he put out his hand in command, signaling for Jaehyun to hand him a rubber.

"I don't want to watch this, I'll be out in the living room when you're done y/n." Jaehyun looked at me, grabbing his pants as he headed out to the living room, shutting the door behind him.

"Well."

Doyoung turned around to face me, ripping the condom packaging open with his teeth. He got on top of me, kissing me on the neck slowly, making his way down to my collar bone.

"You're so pretty." He whispered, entering his length into me fully, causing a tired moan out of me.

"Fuck." I moaned out as he went in and out of me, going deeper everytime. "So pretty." He whispered into my cheek, one of his hands on my waist, the other holding my hand beside my head. I let out loud moans as my skin flushed from all the pleasure. My other hand found its way to his hair, tugging as his thrust started to get faster and rougher.

"How does this feel?" He questioned, his voice was breathless, rustier, deeper making the pleasure far more intense.

"Good, I'm almost there." I whined out.

I was reaching my high as he hit my g-spot, causing me to clench around him. He let out a loud whimper, his thrust getting sloppier as he moaned into my neck, his breath leaving tingles along my skin. My legs started to shake violently under him as I felt him smile into my skin.

"This is all for you princess."

He said, looking at me, placing a passionate kiss on my lips as we both reached our highs.

“Wow." He said as we sat there for a second, his dick twitching inside of me.

"Are you going straight home or would you like to freshen up?" He said, exiting out of me, rolling beside me on the bed.

"I'll freshen up real quick."

He nodded, helping me to the bathroom, shutting the door after he handed me a towel and washcloth.

I got dressed after my quick shower, walking out the bathroom to see Doyoung sitting on the bed with his phone in his hand, looking quite frustrated as he fiddled with it.

He turned to me, turning his phone and throwing it quickly away from him.

"I'll walk you out." He forced a smile, grabbing my waist, helping me into the living room.

"Took long enough." Jaehyun said, sitting on the couch. "You ready to go mama?"

He said, getting up, grabbing his keys as I nodded.

"Oh wait, here." Doyoung said, causing me to turn around. He grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, writing something down before handing it to me.

"Call if you need anything ok, it was a Joy having you here tonight Y/n, and uh you." He gave a displeased look to Jaehyun before looking back at me smiling.

"You too Doyoungie." I smiled before walking out the door behind Jaehyun.   

—————————————————————————————

Jaehyun.

—————————————————————————————

“I have to step out real quick."

I grabbed my keys from the nightstand, going to the door, slipping on my shoes. I turned to her, her pretty doe eyes staring daggers into mines innocently.

"What?" I said, grabbing my coat.

"Can I come with you Jae?" She questioned, smiling as she got up from the bed, meeting me at the door like it was more of a command than a question. "Um, I don't know Y/n." I said, opening the door, eyeing her as she put her shoes on, grabbing a jacket and scarf.

"I'm coming with you." She smiled, following me outside to the car, getting in the passengers side without any second thought.

I pulled out my phone, sending a text message before pulling off. I looked to my side for a second, Y/n leaning on the car door, her eyes reflecting the moonlight as they sparkled when she looked out the window.

I grinned, turning back to the road, pulling up to a bar.

"Stay here, do not move Y/n, I mean it."

She looked at me, nodding with a smile before looking away, resting her head on the car door again. I took a small deep breath, getting out the car, locking it behind me before making my way to the side of the bar, sitting at a table, trying to get comfortable in the bar stool.

"I got your favorite, Whiskey sour." He slid the drink to me. I raised my eyebrows in appreciation as I took a sip.

"It was clever to host a party like that Doyoung." He smiled, taking a sip from his drink.

"I know, you've never been the brains in the operations I can say."

"Ouch." I laughed, wiping the corner of my mouth as he adjusted the collar on his black shirt.

"You owe me, that party came out of my bank account, a hefty penny." Doyoung took a bite out of the mozzarella sticks that sat in the middle of the table, as we laughed at the foolish statement.

"I do have some bad news though," Doyoung spoke.

"The video we took at the hotel corrupted, so all the footage is gone."

I looked at him, my face in daze as I leaned forward in interest. "Oh god? Guess we don't have anything to lure her dad in with. I'm sure we can try again, she's just as gullible as her damn mother." Doyoung giggled, taking a sip of his drink.

"Why did she look back at you when we were talking about Canada?" He questioned, his elbow resting on the table.

"Oh, she told me where she was actually from, she probably looked back at me to see if I spotted the lie." I smiled, taking another sip from my drink.

"She's probably not scared anymore, when we became friends it was in the middle of the whole fight so."

"Was it your plan to befriend her all along?" I said, swirling my straw in the drink, mixing what ever was left with the the ice cubes.

"No, it was actually a coincidence, I thought she was really pretty and had a crush on her," he laughed "By the time I figured out who she was, she was already gone."

I nodded, my face turning into one of realization as I looked at him, raising my eyebrows. "You were talking about her when we spoke on the phone?"

"Yes Jaehyun, I told you it was her like a thousand times remember, we were so in shock." I looked down, looking back up at him with a small smile.

"Yea I remember now."

"Why, do you think I should ask her out? My dad would kill me." He laughed, leaning back in his chair, grabbing the last mozzarella stick.

"No please don't, she's literally a slut, we hooked up like first night."

His eyes got wide as a smile circled around the mozzarella stick he was eating. He finished it off, his immense smile slowly fading smaller.

"Wait what?" His voice was a little cracked, his smile a little broken as he looked at me. The sparkle in his eyes could make anyone not want to hurt him, even his greatest enemy.

"Yeah, she's a little crazy." I laughed nervously, tapping the table with my finger tips.

"Yeah," he giggled.

"But why would you do that?" He looked at me, his eyes squinting slightly as he titled his head. "Well, she wanted to, and I was bored so I just did it. Plus I got to take her out to breakfast the next morning and find out more personal information about her."

"And what did you find out?" Doyoung said, his face getting far more agitated as I spoke calmly.

"Well she told me she was from France, and that her mom got killed— by us."

"So she told you stuff you already knew."

I gulped, looking at him timidly as I nodded. "Yea."

"So you hooked up and then took her on a date after I told you I liked her."

I looked down, staying completely silent as his upset aura soundlessly hit me in a way that hurt more than any physical punch.

"Doyoung." I said, following him as he got up from the table, walking to the alley behind the bar lighting a cigarette.

"Jaehyun, please get away from me. I am going to freak out on you."

"Doyoung I swear it was nothing."

He leaned on the wall, pushing the bud of the cigarette on the cold concrete of the bar.

"You know, you've always gotten everything you've wanted since we were kids, it's not fair." He looked up at me, his face full of indignation.

"Doyoung, it's not that serious I swear."

"But it is though. I want what I want too— I want something to myself, without having to share."

I looked at him, trying to make the conversation less daunting. "I'm the reason you even got to hook up with her in the first place, be grateful."

"Oh thanks for the handout Jaehyun, Im really grateful you left your leftovers for me." He walked up to me, an unsettling feeling washing over my body as I looked into his eyes that have now turned completely dark and cold.

"You give yourself way too much damn credit Jaehyun, in all reality you're just an asshole that only cares for yourself."

He was about to say something else, but choked on his words; rolling his eyes before walking away from me.

"Doyoung relax you can't even date her so I don't get what the big deal is." I shouted to him, my words getting choked up as regret and guilt spewed into my brain.

"You just don't get it do you." He paused, turning around to face me, his eyes filled of sorrow, voice shaky as he gave me a pitiful look.

"I'm sorry I said that Doyoung, I really am, but don't let something like this ruin our friendship."

"I was never your friend Jaehyun—" he took a deep breath, his eyes turning back cold.

"In fact, I hate you."

He reached into his pocket, pulling out an all black matte gun.

"Don't say that Doyoung, no you don't." I looked at the gun, then back up at him.

"I hate you, a lot. I wish my dad would've left you in that alleyway." He pointed the gun at me, his finger methodically finding its way to the trigger.

"Please, put the gun down. I'm sorry Doyoung, please just put it down. I won't do anything with her again."

"Oh I know." He sarcastically smiled.

"Goodbye Jaehyun— Fuck you."

I felt a sharp pain in my stomach, covering it up with my hands as I looked down, blood covering my fingers. I looked back up at him, a shocked expression on his face like he didn't think he would do it either.

I fell to the ground, looking up to the night sky, holding my wound taking it in as I got lightheaded.

"Jaehyun." A familiar voice rung in my ears as I just laid, ignoring it. I felt someone lift my head up and a tight pressure on my lower abdomen.

"Jaehyun it's gonna be ok, just look at me, you're gonna be ok." I saw Y/n's face ever so slightly, my vision blurring slowly as I fell weaker. "HELP!" I heard her scream over and over again, my vision getting weaker as the sounds surrounding me started to fade as well.

I looked to the stars again, closing my eyes slowly till everything was dark and I couldn't hear anymore.

—————————————————————————————

"He lost a lot of blood, but he's in surgery now and there's a very high chance that he will survive."

I looked at the doctor from my seat. My eyes were nearly shut as I sat there with my leg shaking anxiously.

"How long till I can see him?" I questioned, my voice raspier than usual.

"Let me go check on that for you Miss." I nodded, taking out my phone. I took a piece of paper out of my pocket, examining it before typing the digits into my keypad. The phone rang for a few seconds then I heard his voicemail.

"Hi this is Doyoung! I can't come to the phone right now but keep a look out because I'll call you back soon. Bye-bye!"

I took a deep breath, looking at the floor before hearing foot steps approaching me.

"Hi ma'am, it should just be two more hours and then you'll be able to see him. Can I get you anything while you wait?"

"No thank you." I smiled numbly, resting my head on my head as I dozed off slowly.

"Ma'am?"

I heard as I woke up a bit disturbed. The unpleasant feeling of the hospital lights shining in my eyes making me grumpy.

"Ma'am. He's out of surgery, you can follow me up to his room." The nurse said, looking at me with a slightly concerned look on her face. I followed her to his room, his eyes closed as he peacefully laid on the hospital bed.

“I know you’re probably tired so I’ll talk to you in the morning Miss…?”

“Y/n.” I smiled, my eyes puffy as she gave me a sympathetic smile, shutting the door behind her as she left the room. I looked back at him, walking to the hospital bed, biting my lip uncomfortably as I looked at him.

“I’m glad he didn’t leave you in that alleyway.” I whispered, half of me hoping he heard me, but the other half hoping he didn’t, hoping he didn’t find out what I was keeping from him in this way.

“I’m glad.”

I rubbed his cold, soft hand before finding my way to the couch that sat beside the bed. I laid, placing my jacket over my body as I looked at Jaehyun, the only thing moving was his chest as I followed the rhythm of his breathing with my tired eyes, dozing off soon after on the uncomfortable couch.

—————————————————————————————

To be continued …🎀

—————————————————————————————

Authors note- hi again! Sorry to leave you on a cliff hanger, but I will be going on a short break. When I come back the whole story will be posted, please feel free to dm me or comment if you would like to be tagged in part 2! I’m gonna say it again, but obviously their personalities are for the plot and I DO NOT think they are like this, or would do this. I hope you liked part 1 my loveys can’t wait to post part 2 for you🩷!

[perpetuallyobsessed0613]

Fontaine Characters Headcanons/Theories

Some of this info is known cause the siblings info got released but still:

Focalors

Hedonist

Really only in it for entertainment (she’s just….kinda a loser 💀💀💀😭😭😭)

Hot-headed, a little childish, gives Neuvillette a hard time (yeeeah)

Would give up her Gnosis in a heartbeat if it was needed to place a bet

But would fight tooth and nail to get it back if she lost the bet

Hydro Archon (confirmed)

Hydro (confirmed, duh) /Sword (confirmed based on her Statue of the Seven)

Arlecchino

Fourth of the Fatui Harbingers

The Knave

Used to be an actress

Method actress, used methods so outlandish she was kicked from theater

From Fontaine originally (HAH I WAS RIGHT)

Used to be an orphan

Runs an orphanage called House of the Hearth, uses it to recruit Fatui agents (!!!!!)

Those aren't gloves on her hands, she bears a curse or she's been turned into a non human entity

Pyro vision/Sword (leaks confirm she’s a Polearm!)

Cryo Delusion

Neuvillette

Stone cold serious type (he’s literally the sweetest I love him????)

Huge proponent of justice (yup!)

Chief Justice of Fontaine

Puts up with Focalors’s attitude (Pretty much 😭)

Loyal to Archon (or is he)

Descended from mermaids (YALL YALL APPARENTLY HE'S THE HYDRO DRAGON SOVEREIGN???????!!!! WTF OMG)

Waiting for Wriothesley to slip up so he can put him in the slammer once and for all (political rival mayhaps idk)

His name deconstructed means "new city": mayhaps he's awaiting a moment to dethrone the archon and reconstruct Fontaine?

Hydro/Sword (apparently he's a Catalyst user,,,,missed the opportunity to give him a fencing sword as a weapon but whatever ig)

Clordine

Assistant to Neuvillette

Bodyguard (yeeeah)

Prosecutor of Fontiane

Detail oriented, nothing gets past her

Vicious and Merciless (literally kinda the opposite but kinda not)

Eventually goes up against Arlecchino

Navia is her arch nemesis, seems as though Goldilocks is the only one having fun with their game of cat & mouse (the way I was off)

Electro (confirmed) /new weapon: Gun (Sword!)

Lyney

Super protective of Lynette (rightfully so holy shit) 

Loves the chase

Cunning (eeeeh)

Very street smart (I mean kinda yeah)

You can’t tell whether he’s putting up a front, actually enjoys his web of lies, or a little bit of both

This man's gonna get used while thinking he's using the person that's using him at some point (oh Arlecchino I swear to god you better not)

Pyro (confirmed)/Bow (confirmed)

Lynette

Something has happened to her in the past (…..well that was dark)

She’s not temperamental at all (yup)

She doesn’t smile too easily (mhm)

Strongest bond with Lyney (they twins lesgo)

Perceptive and agile (very!)

Lynette escapes her brother’s net of safety to save the traveler at some point (not so likely)

Anemo (confirmed) /Sword (confirmed)

Freminet

Youngest sibling (yup)

introverted/enjoys personal space and quiet (lmfao I knew it)

Love for the water

Renowned Diver of the Court of Fontaine (confirmed)

Silent protector of both his older siblings (idrk)

Highkey that smartest book-wise out of the siblings (again idk)

Cryo (confirmed) /Claymore (confirmed)

Sigewinne

Healer

Alchemist

Provides treatment for Wriothesley’s visual impairment

If not treatment, then she prefers sweet tasting drinks and Wriothesley prefers bitter but she still tries to get him on her new concoctions

Sibling dynamic/found family w/ Wriothesley

Hydro/Catalyst

Wriothesley

May or may not be somewhat visually impaired

If so, not particularly compliant with treatment

If not treatment, then he prefers bitter tasting drinks and sometimes humors Sigewinne by trying her new concoctions, mostly just pretends he’s converted to sweet and then goes for coffee or tea anyways

Likes to tease Sigewinne

Sibling dynamic/found family w/ Sigewinne

Investigator for Fontaine justice system (woeful news, he's a police officer. like not even a detective dude?)

Seems pretty chilled out, strategic, could be leading the organized crime w/Navia in secret

if he is secretly running robinhood-esque crimes with navia, then...Neuvillette sniffs something suspicious but never has the evidence to back it oop

Pyro/Claymore (He’s a Cryo Catalyst but his fists go boom boom like Heizou)

Navia

Gives off Focalors vibes (was very wrong)

Playful (yeah I mean yeah)

Career Thief OR

Notorious organized criminal in Fontaine (literally what was I on)

Robin Hood of the sewers (I mean I was kinda sorta a tiny bit right)

Crafty, craftsman (ummm I guess her mind is?)

Super sweet, wonderful character (loved her so yes)

Loves messing with Clordine by making her think she's got her but escaping right in the nick of time (….needless to say I was way off)

Geo (confirmed)/Catalyst (claymore actually)

[itsbopp]

Can you write gwen stacy x fem reader when her spider-sense goes off and realizes that you're in danger ( also, can it angst in the beginning, then turn into comfort I would like that very much)

Just Be Careful - Across The Spiderverse | One Shot

A/N: Got you! I'm not extremely well-versed (no pun intended) in writing angst, so I hope I did your request some justice!

SUMMARY: After getting into an argument with Gwen, you leave to try and clear your head. However, what once was a walk that was meant as your way of calming down, quickly turned into a life-or-death situation with a group of thugs, who were up to no good. 

WARNINGS: All characters are 18+. Swearing, Angst/Comfort, Weapons, Descriptive Physical Violence.

WORD COUNT: 3400+

Gwen hated getting into fights with you. 

They didn’t at all compare to the ones she would have with the typical criminal that roamed Chelsea, New York. Those were physical altercations, and it always ended with her winning and feeling accomplished, because she got rid of a genuinely bad person. The ones she had with you were sometimes heated, and although there was that urgency to try and win the argument, it never felt like she succeeded. Even if her opinions on the matter the two of you disagreed on made more sense than yours, she still disliked the fact that you and her couldn’t have had a calm conversation about your different stances. 

Maybe it was stress this time that so easily tipped you over the edge and caused you to become so angry with her. Intermixing school and work was the worst concoction to have. The blonde tried her hardest to understand what might have been going on with you. Maybe she should have just pushed away her desire to get her point across, and simply asked you what the deeper reason for your frustration was. But she couldn’t. Not now, at least. You had left the apartment. You slammed the door and it felt like it rattled the entire building.

It didn’t take a genius to gather that you were pissed off. 

And, from what she had gathered, it was all because of the fact that Gwen wasn’t understanding your concern for her. You knew she was Spider-Woman. You found out early on, and it was due to the fact that she had crawled through the window of your shared apartment one night to try and be sneaky. But you were pulling an all-nighter, and so as you sat on the couch, watching TV, you just about had a heart attack when you saw this random woman in a tight black, white, and pink suit come into your apartment. You screamed, she screamed. You threw your box of popcorn at her, she – surprisingly – webbed it to the wall before it could even hit her, and then it was a domino effect from there. 

When she eventually showed you that she was the one and only Spider-Woman, you freaked out. And you had every right to, she thought. Hearing the news, reading the newspaper and seeing all of the things Gwen got herself into, it instilled a lot of worry in your chest, because you were well aware that this superhero of New York was getting herself into a lot of crazy situations. And they were ones that could have easily gotten her killed. And so that was where your concern came from. 

The weighing dread of responsibilities didn’t help your mood, however. And so as you thought about what had happened at that apartment, you felt a little guilty for the way you blew up on her. Your last words consisted of, ‘I don’t want to see your face for the rest of the fucking day,’ and of course, she came back with her own two sense, that only caused you to scoff in turn and slam the door shut before she could truly finish her retort. Something along the lines of, ‘you won’t be thinking that when you need me to save your ass.’ 

At first, you thought that the statement was belligerent and arrogant. 

But now, you didn’t really think so. 

Staring down the barrel of a gun wasn’t on your to-do list for the day. The man who held it shook the weapon impatiently while he yelled at you, but with the way your heart pounded, it caused your hearing to only pick up the rhythmic drum of the organ. You could feel yourself losing air as anxiety washed over you like a heavy tsunami, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get yourself to fall out of your frozen state. 

Clearly, it was causing the thug anger, and the two goons that had joined him also showed their own feelings of frustration. When one of them lunged forward and gripped the collar of your shirt to shove you into the wall, the other smacked the metal of their bat onto the brick surface you had been slammed up against, right beside your head. You flinched, rightfully so, but surprisingly, it seemed to be the thing that snapped you back into reality. Voices, gruff and cold, came back to your senses, and you could eventually hear the bustling of the dark New York streets from the alley you were stuck in, as well as the shaky breaths that slipped from your lips. 

“Either you give us everything you fuckin’ got, or I’ll beat your skull in!” You flinched when the man who gripped the collar of your shirt harshly smacked your cheek. It caused your head to turn and for a pained gasp to escape you, as a heated stinging sensation spread across the right side of your face. The hand that fell onto you was rough and callous, which only made the feeling all the more excruciating, though you weren’t able to dwell on it when a heavy fist suddenly slammed itself into your gut. 

All the air inside of your lungs vanished as a bloom of agony spread throughout your abdomen. Your eyes were quick to snap shut, and you unwillingly showed your pain when you clutched your stomach with your arms and fell to the ground. Your knees slammed against the cold cement of the alley way, and before you could even regather yourself, a boot planted itself against your shoulder and shoved you to the floor. You weren’t able to stop your teetering body, due to the power of the push, and so the moment the rest of your form hit the ground, your head was quick to follow. 

The feeling of your skull cracking against the concrete wasn’t pleasant. Even the men who gathered around you hesitated to continue their assault. Though, when you let out a weak groan and rolled yourself to lay on your back, that seemed to be the thing that pushed the muggers back onto the task of robbing you blind. Before you could even react, you felt grimy hands grab onto your body, searching through the pockets of your pants, while a pair of footsteps moved past you to search through the backpack you had dumbly brought with you when you left the apartment earlier. 

As much as you didn’t want them to steal everything that you had, you lacked the strength to do anything about it. You felt them rummage for your wallet, your keys, the single dollar bills you had, if you ever needed cash for something. Your pockets soon became voidless pits. You could hear their voices, even as the world around you spun like some extremely fast merry-go-round. You didn’t know what they were saying. However, you could notice the way their tones switched from calm to panicked and terrified in the matter of minutes. 

“In this day and age, you’re still robbing people in alleyways?!” 

You knew who had voiced the quip without even needing to see their face. The zipping of webs and grunts filled your ears as you stared up at the sky, and in your daze, you noted the way the walls of the alleyway slightly closed in, which almost covered the sight of the moon that illuminated the world. Scuffling of boots and a surprisingly high-pitched yelp echoed to your left, which caused you to lull your head to the side, only to see one of the men who had attacked you slam against the wall, as a glob of spider string spread across his chest to keep him there. 

It wasn’t difficult to find out where the other culprits of your less than ideal state had gone. Hanging from the balcony of a fire exit, the two men were wrapped within a cocoon of webbing. They struggled in their confinements, and you would have laughed at the sight, if your head hadn’t felt like someone drilled into it with a power tool. 

Even though you left on a terrible note earlier in the day, you were elated when you saw the familiar figure of Spider-Woman drop down from wherever she had been perched. She landed against the cement like a graceful ballerina, but she was swift in popping up to her full height and rushing over to you the moment she saw that you were still laying on the floor. “Shit shit shit–!” You could hear her voice, albeit muffled, and the way she was clearly concerned for your wellbeing. The expletives that leaked out of her mouth from behind her mask made the corner of your lip quirk slightly, amused. Though, the expression quickly vanished once you felt how sore your jaw had become, just from the simple action.

However, when Gwen knelt down to your side and cradled your face with her covered hands, you felt the pain that surrounded your head subtly dissipate. The way they touched you with a profound amount of comfort, compared to what you had dealt with only moments prior. Her palm was gentle in the way that it moved to cradle the back of your skull. Still, you couldn’t prevent the groan that bubbled within your throat from slipping out. “I’m sorry,” you impulsively uttered, even though speaking seemed to be too much, with the way your abdomen uncomfortably throbbed.  

“Please don’t start apologizing like you’re dying,” Gwen told you worriedly, as you felt her hands move away from your head. As much as you wanted to, you weren’t able to say anything in response, before you felt her arms slide under your body, and hoist you up. You let your own limb lazily loop around the back of her neck as she held you against her chest, and in the process, you couldn’t help but to glance down at the cement you had just used as your temporary resting place. You didn’t miss it, and honestly, you were only checking to see if you had left any blood behind.

You didn’t, thankfully. 

And so, it didn’t take long before you turned your focus back towards Gwen, and even though her face was covered by the mask she wore to hide her identity, you could still feel the worry that radiated off of her, with the way she stared down at you. It was dark out, yet with the moon shining down, and the artificial lights from buildings and signs radiating their glow across the walls of the alleyway, it wasn’t difficult to see her. “Thank you,” you eventually muttered, but all you got in turn was a wave of silence.

She nodded her head passively, before she spoke up. “Let’s just… go home.” She ignored your apology, which conveyed that she clearly wasn’t wanting to hash out your issues in a disgusting alleyway, while a trio of similarly disgusting burglars watched on. You understood, though a part of you had wished to receive the reassurance that things were okay between the two of you. 

You knew it wasn’t that easy, however. 

— — — — — —

You let Gwen carry you home under the guise of Spider-Woman, and you practically fell asleep due to how smooth of a journey it was. The trip was silent, full of pondering thoughts that circled throughout both of your minds. You slowly came to the realization that you were overly harsh when you had left, and the blonde had eventually come to terms with the fact that she was being way too hard-headed for her own good. She could have easily used the excuse that it was a trait she got from her dad, but it wouldn’t have made the situation any better, and she was well aware of that. 

Gwen let you go through the window of the apartment first, and you almost fell into the room, due to the unbearable soreness you felt surrounding your abdomen and head. Luckily, your girlfriend was quick to slip into the room right after you, and your arm was silently slung over her shoulders as she walked you towards the bathroom with her own limb secured around your waist. 

As much as you didn’t want to be the one to break the silence, you felt a wave of amusement fill your chest when Gwen helped you up onto the bathroom counter. “Well, this is romantic,” you mumbled, as you settled yourself onto the granite and fidgeted with your scraped up hands, all while you slightly swung your bruised legs back and forth. Sarcasm dripped from your tone when you spoke, but you could tell that the woman in front of you wasn’t pleased with your attempt at being comical. 

Gwen sighed and tugged the hood of her outfit down from hanging over her head. The moment she slipped her mask off of her face, she shook her head to settle her messy blonde hair back to normal, though she didn’t show a shred of joy in the action. For the first time in what felt like forever, your eyes eventually met her blue ones, and it didn’t take a magnifying glass to notice the shiny look in her gaze. The amusement you once held within your chest swiftly vanished, and a deep frown overtook your features as you watched her set her belongings next to you, before she moved close and wrapped her arms around your body. 

You felt your head press against the middle of her chest when her hand came up to pull you into her. The embrace that she gave you was tight, and you were quick to reciprocate it, as your own limbs moved up to hug around her waist. Her face moved down to bury itself in your hair as she squeezed your form, and you couldn’t stop yourself from closing your eyes when a wave of comfort washed over you. She seemed to find solace in the touch when she breathed you in and let out a shaky exhale, which caused your heart to squeeze even more than it already had, as your fingers scratched along her back, attempting to calm her silent worry. 

“I shouldn’t have let you leave. Not while we were still mad at each other,” Gwen mumbled, her voice muffled. “I tried looking for you when you did, but you just… you just vanished, and then I felt that you were in danger and I…” She trailed off and pulled back from the hug to look you in the eye. Her hands moved from behind your back to gently cup your face, and she furrowed her eyebrows in sorrow as your chin angled up to meet her concerned gaze. “I thought you died.” She shook her head and rubbed the pad of her thumb along your cheek, just barely grazing over the bruise that had formed on your skin, which caused her focus to flicker towards it for a moment. “I’m sorry for not listening to you. I know you care, but I guess I just felt like you didn’t trust that I could keep myself safe.” 

“I do trust you, Gwen,” you quickly replied, as your hands came up to hold onto her wrists. You didn’t try to push her palms away from your cheeks, though you made sure to give that part of her body a gentle squeeze, as a way to silently assure her that you weren’t upset. “And I know that you’ve got these crazy superhuman abilities because of what happened with you and that spider – which is still a story that I don’t understand–” You cut yourself off before you started rambling about an entirely different thing. A sigh slipped from your lips. “But… the point is that… even though you have the strength to lift – like, two cars or something, and the durability that allows you to get flung into a building a bunch of times without obtaining so much as a scratch… that still doesn’t mean you’re invincible,” you clarified, “I don’t want to come home one day, turn on the news, and find out that Spider-Woman – my Spider-Woman is dead.” 

Gwen frowned, “That won’t happen.” 

You pulled her hands away from your face and clutched them between your own as they fell into your lap. “But you don’t know that.” You shook your head and clenched your jaw, feeling a sense of worry hit your chest. “That’s what I’m so scared of. That your confidence will turn into arrogance,” you admitted, your voice soft. “I just don’t want it to be your downfall. That’s all.” You paused to gauge her reaction, but she only lowered her gaze and looked at the floor, as she slowly nodded her head. “I understand that crime-fighting is – basically – your full-time job, but I just need you to promise me that you’ll try not to let that confidence get to your head.” 

“I’ve gotten hurt many times before,” Gwen muttered, “I’ve healed… I always heal.” 

“But what happens when someone manages to get to your heart? Or another organ that could determine whether you live or die?” She remained silent, and you squeezed her hands tightly, trying to make your statement hold more weight to it. “You’ve gotten hurt before, but what if the next time, it’s fatal?” The question was rhetorical, and when she didn’t respond, it allowed you to continue. “All I’m asking, Gwen, is that you just try to be careful. Because I know you’re not all the time, and that’s what scares me.” 

Gwen knew that you were right. Just like every other Spider-Man in existence, she was also one that got herself into close calls with her fair share of what she called villains of the week. At first, she never truly worried about it. However, now, the reality of being in a relationship – while also being Spider-Woman – was hitting her hard. For the sake of helping you sleep at night, she needed to think about the consequences of her actions, which felt ironic, considering she had said similar things to the bad men and women she locked up. 

What goes around comes around, she thought. 

Although she was an extremely stubborn individual, Gwen could see the pleading look in your eyes, which was the ultimate thing that cracked her.

With a long, heavy sigh, she eventually relented, as her shoulders slumped, and a slightly exhausted expression fell onto her pale features. “Okay, okay…” She trailed off, before she pulled her hands out of the hold you had them in, and rested them back onto your cheeks. “I’ll be more careful from now on.” You felt her press a firm kiss to your forehead, and just as you were about to speak up and give her your thanks, she pulled back and held onto your chin with her fingers. “You too, though,” she added, which made your eyebrows furrow in confusion. “I don’t want to see all this on your pretty face.” She gestured towards the bruising that had developed on your skin, which caused you to lightheartedly scoff. 

“Well, now you know how I feel when I see you come back from a fight all beat up,” you retorted. "And besides, it wasn't like I asked to be robbed in an alleyway."

Gwen pressed her lips together, before she pursed them in understanding and nodded her head. “Okay. Touche. You’ve got me there.” You shrugged, as if to silently say ‘I know,’ and instead of the usual quip you would have received from your girlfriend in response to your reaction, all she gave you instead was a loving stare that portrayed comfort. “Okay,” she hummed, before she let go of your face and stepped back to grab a medical box she had laying around… somewhere. “Let’s get you fixed up.” 

You stared at your partner for a few moments, watching as she scrounged through drawers and cabinets in an attempt to find where she had misplaced her medkit. Although the wounds on your skin slowly started to hurt, you couldn’t help but smile softly at the dorkiness she exuded. You yourself still had yet to apologize, but in that moment, you made a mental note to do so the moment she wasn’t too busy worrying about patching you up. 

Couples fought. It was a normal thing. 

You were just glad that it didn’t end everything.

[altarrot]

LAMB TO SLAUGHTER.

ao3 issue.

synopsis: a malevolent enemy resides in the dead depths of the forest during dusk, as the warnings come and go through, but said enemy was never anticipated to be so enrapturing. authors note: making my first fic on tumblr on the predator and prey trope because like... why not

[ ♡ ] pairing: killer!simon "ghost" riley + fem!reader

[ ♡ ] genre: smut, sexual content

[ ♡ ] warnings: unprotected sex, innocence kink, soft!mean!ghost, slight taunting, loss of virginity, overstimulation, mild degradation, pet-names, dirty talk, corruption kink, age difference, oral sex (fem!receiving), sex in a forest, slight knife-play, slight breeding kink, possessive sex.

PART 1/2 | PART 2

Living in a small, unpopulated town; there was no doubt that scandals got around through other people’s mouths easily, including potential myths. Serial killers. Sightings of extraterrestrial entities. A great majority of it was falsehood and just something to possess a rise out of the community. Although, serial killer scandals were no joke compared to entities; which is what has been circulating throughout the small town for the past couple of weeks, some supposed serial killer inhabiting the local forest.

Despite there being masses of locals and officers released on a search into the forest on a daily, there was no success in locating the whereabouts of this fallacy. Worrisome spread like a plague and increased in size by each passing day, like some sort of rise of a satanic panic. Your parents, already had been plagued by this rising anxiety, warns you of staying inside all day, keeping the doors nailed shut. A single hunting rifle was granted to you, but never used; guns were something that you’ve never learnt to use, even though your father was a huge thing on hunting. (Even when you were a little girl, you declined the offer of hunting).

Of course, you would be like the average human caught in the spider’s web of this situation; terrified, fearing for life — but you just weren’t. You were more curious than anything, completely, and utterly curious to the murderer.

So at the stroke of midnight, your parents secured in their beds with rifles at their bed-side tables, you undid the lock of the back door — pulling the wooden panel open by the knob, and allowing yourself to be exposed to the outside. Conveniently, your house was pin-pointed right where the forest was, it was practically apart of your backyard. You were hesitant at first sight, trembling and enthralled by hesitance, but you soon gave it up.

Your blood ran cold in your veins as you made your steps down the porch steps, through the fielded weeds, and into the sea of forest. The more steps you took, the deeper you found yourself in the vast region of darkness, leaves of the overhead trees with little cracks of your only source of light; a faint glow of moonlight in which hung from further than the trees. Your surroundings were silent except the crunch of a fallen tree branch or an unusually heavy breath that drew from your mouth, the atmosphere was unnerving.

It was completely idiotic of you to venture out into serial-killer territory with only a simply, frilly dress of lace clothing your body from the wind. A compact switchblade rests in your fist, now noticed with a dull blade but you considered it decent enough to stab a person out of self-defense. Taking notice, your heartbeat hammers in your chest more irregularly. It swells and puffs up, making it harder to breathe in some ways, though you push through and squint your eyes at the shadows to push on.

Stupid. Stupid and brainless is what you were. You had no purpose in even proceeding with a haphazard goal. Maybe it was because you wanted to prove some bravery, make up for the times you were too coward to spend your childhood hunting and touching animal carcasses. Bravery was something you lacked and wanted to prove as something you could change, something that could be converted into something useful.

Yet, you pursued your hollow journey, swearing to yourself that you could feel eyes scorching — stalking every single one of your movements. The fictitious thought got a rise of goosebumps lining up your arms, beads of sweat forming at your skin. Although, you convinced yourself none of it was real; just another fragment of your imagination, something to frighten you to death. You drift further away into the area of woods, your curiosity striving to pave its away through your fears.

Your jaw clenches at an abrupt sound from behind. It’s a combination of crunching on dead twigs and a pale breathing — though, you’re not really sure if there was an accompanied breathing or if it was just a factor of fear acting up. You swear you’re on your last bit of sanity, about to stumble away and lose your mind right in the middle of a horrific-looking forest.

Unfortunately, there was no fear factor acting up, and it was proven when the crunch of leaves surge in speed right up the spine behind you. You’re granted no time to make a break for it or even react when a blade is pressed into the pulsing bunch of your neck, body staggering right into a larger, more towering one.

As you look up into the upper-half of the obscured silhouette, you can only make out two baths of darkened eyes which were highlighted in the luminesce of the moon. He had eyes without a face, veiled with a balaclava imprinted with features of a skull, and pale skin smeared with blotches of tar-like paint around the eyes. Edgy, but in this scenario with a blade to your neck, horrifying. You struggle to release from the man’s grasp but it’s no use when he’s made up of pure muscle, strength at levels of insanity.

“What’s a sweet, little girl doing out here at midnight?” his voice is raspy, deepened with an accent. Your heartbeat is set at severe rates.

The man holds you against him; one of his brawny arms is wrapped fully around your chest while the other is occupied with the knife. He’s a monster, you thought, barbaric for the sake of blood and other violent needs. Splatters of dried blood are visible through the holes of his mask on his skin, some of the droplets not so visible on the blacks of the mask. You pause with your struggles, stiff with the only gestures of your up-and-down chest.

“Are you going to kill me?” your words come out as an unexpected shushed whine.

“Kill you?” he said, with an almost chuckle, “Why would I bring myself to kill such a pretty thing like you?”

Relief swamps your nervous system, nearly calmed with his response. You were too naive, you gave it too quickly to facile words that could easily be frauds of the real, brutal thing. Turning back and escaping was certainly an option; it wasn’t an easy one but there could be some figured way to achieve it. However some buried, sadistic identity was telling you to stay with him — let him have his way with you, deprive you of your innocence, be something useful and obedient.

Your survival instincts were dropping like dead flies, that sadistic identity dominating those instincts. Strangely enough, you were establishing some sort of comfort in him, some portion to fill in the complete void of desolation. A pre-arousal starts to stain your cunt, panties sticky, and dressed thighs feeling limp about to give out. His breathing is heavier, as if he’s as desperate as you were, his posture adjusts. Now, you’re straight stood against his chest, eyes half-lidded and arousal felt between your inner thighs.

There’s a pulsating, overwhelming beat at your cunt; heat rushing to your face and body overturned in a fever-ish trance. He resumes with sharing a strict eye contact with you, taking notice of your doe eyes which twitched every so often.

“Your burning up, honey,” he said, observing your bare skin which smoldered under his gloved hands, “Wonder why.”

You nod your head in a disagreeing motion, not wanting to surrender to your repressed feelings, but you had a gut feeling he could tell; a fusion of sexual need, desperation, and dread which fogged in your two eyes. There wasn’t even an effort to try and hide it away from him, you just let it exhibit out like some showcase to the public eye.

“Can’t even tell me why, it’s because you’re needy, huh? Your panties all stained and sticky just because of me, getting off at knife-point.” he said, taunting how vulnerable you appeared underneath him, “You just want me to ruin this little pussy, don’t you? Needed someone to please your sticky cunt?”

God, you can’t even fight back, not at this point.

Whimpers fall from your lips like the leaves of the trees, lips red and wounded from constantly biting at them. Your eyes brim with small tears, edging to fall from position, “Please, need it so bad…”

“Shh, don’t worry, angel.” he coos, moving in sync with you towards a tree stump; pinning you to the object with the knife now tucked in his jeans. He gropes at your breasts through the flimsy fabric before hooking your thighs in a hold, lowering himself to his knees as he places your legs on his shoulders. “Is this what you want, love? Want me to make your tight pussy feel all better?”

Bobbing your head, you motion in agreement and mumble inaudible pleads. He smirks to himself behind the mask in satisfaction, bundling up the skirt of your dress till your soft panties — all sticky with arousal down your thighs — were exposed to the cold public. His thumb massages at the wet stain at the front of your panties, hips swaying in a poor effort to obey the press of the digit. He uses his empty fingers to clasp under the waistband of the cloth, dragging it down the two limbs you stood on, and pooling it down at your ankles.

You find yourself shivering on your laid back; lower-half entirely bare and only protected in a rip-able piece of dress. Your folds seem to gleam along with the natural source of the moon, cunt clenching around in vain.

“Fuck, honey, I’m going to ruin your pretty cunt so bad.” he said, his fingers branding touch into your thighs, bottom-half of his face exposed to pink lips and pale skin. “Ghost.”

“Huh?” you ask, absent-mindedly, astray.

“My name. Call me that when I ruin you.”

Ghost then wraps his naked lips around your cunt with no more words, sucking at the flesh, savoring the sweet taste. Your body convulses for a second before being nailed down to the wood of the stump, physically feeling yourself being ruined by the town’s most wanted. Squirming, releasing a variety of whines into the atmosphere. His fingers soon join the ministrations of his mouth, the two fingers pumping up inside of you, sending you into a condition of euphoria with the immense pressure.

Throwing your head back over the edge of the stump, you spread your legs further apart for him, bathing in the nature of his fingers and mouth smacking at your cunt at the same time. You grip at the top of his mask, the black cloth stretching with elasticity. A symphony of angelic, erotic sounds hum from your lips as his mouth gives pleasure at your clit. Ghost grunts occasionally, muffled right into your delicate features. A strain in your stomach warns of your closing orgasm.

Your hips practically ride his tongue in careless movements; doing so until the tension in your stomach climbed up steep heights until it reached the top, letting go — fucked-out and overtook with euphoria while his fingers thrusted through your sensitive cunt.

“Ghost…”

“That’s a good girl, so good,” Ghost said, extracting his fingers and lapping at the arousal that stained them. “All nice and stretched out for me, yeah? You want me to fuck up this innocent pussy?”

“Please,” you whimper, narrowing your eyes through the absence of light to peer at him, eyes doe and watery — unknown to what you were pleading to.

“Don’t worry about it, doll,” he stated, “It’ll feel good, I promise. I’ll breed your cunt, ruin you for every other man,” Ghost strokes your face with a gentle significance, “Would you like that?”

You swipe your tongue across a bitten lower lip. “Want that, I’ll be all yours, tear me apart.”

“That’s right, angel,” he said with a sharp breath, hands of veins coming to unfasten the belt that held up his jeans, the combination of his pants and briefs sliding to his ankles; his cock was erect, rigid right against the black tactical jacket he wore. “You’re all mine, and I’ll ravage you as much as I want.”

Empty-headed, you extended both your arms out to his face, caressing it, as you rammed your own lips into his. He tasted of a faint tea, and flavors of vulgar nature, he was heaven. His hands rest at either side of your waist while yours rest at his divided face — the lips of a murderer on yours were so immorally pleasant to hunger at. With an inclined figure over your stow figure, he parts his lips from yours and composes himself right between your thighs, fingers holding down onto the skin.

Ghost pushed lined his cock with the entrance of your cunt; he sheathes himself into you in a quick, single move of his hips. You whine, clenching around him in fluttering flickers, taking the time where he wasn’t moving to give a try at adjusting to both his length and bulk. His eyes stalk into your body, keeping them pinned on you as he starts off slowly, growing to be increasingly fast.

“That’s it, you’re okay, love,” he breathes out, “Keep clenching around my cock, just like that.’

You’re moaning his name like a verse. The blends of skin-on-skin, masculine grunting, and feminine moans were like a pitch-perfect harmony of raw lascivious.

“So angelic, baby, such a pure little thing.” Ghost grunts, “Such a whore for my cock, she likes having her sloppy cunt fucked by a killer, doesn’t she?”

You rapidly nod, tears streaming in rivers across your cheeks, down your neck. Having him inside you was the most divine thing you could’ve experienced, so cherish-able and unforgettable. He was some kind of angelic entity, casted by the looks of demonic circumstances, much like Lucifer. His lips meet at the fleshy base of your neck, teeth stabbing at the skin, soothing over the impacted wounds with the muscle of his tongue.

His thrusts are near-animalistic, pounding through your walls like a starved man, feeling him right at your cervix. You never thought you could get so defenseless, so yearning for a man of his nature. Some blood stains the skin of his cock, a symbol of loss, no longer the pure he says you are. But that could only mean you truly did belong to him.

“You going to let me come inside you, honey?” he asks, “You’ll never be alone again, I’ll always be a reminder of the first man you’ve fucked.”

“Yes!” you squeal, “Come inside me, make me yours.”

And with a few more stinging, godlike thrusts, the stance of his hips are pressed right up against your swollen cunt, the warmth of his seed felt splattering your walls — right as deep to your cervix. He remains in place, slouched over and heavy-breathed, you’re grasping at the chances of air into your lungs. You feel him twitch inside of your overstimulated cunt, earning him a small number of additional whines from your vocal chords.

Some of his come, along with your arousal, leaks out you and stains your inner thighs in a white; his cock is painted in the same shade. You’re both left to sound like panting dogs. (Having fucked like two creatures out in the wilderness, which was, substantially, exactly that.)

Ghost parts away, a last whine trailing off at the loss of him making you feel so full. His torso tugs with more breaths that were in progress of being caught; you’re giving him a latent smile — one of a drunk’s, no teeth bared, just lines of your lips. It’s abnormal. You weren’t supposed to show a man of homicide such endearment, passiveness — unless under the influence of some kind of Stockholm Syndrome — that was impossible, only having met him as of tonight.

“Such a pretty girl,” he said, reaching for back for the knife and sliding the blade in a caressing motion at the side of your face, “Like a lamb — I’m so obsessed with you.”

With his knife, handled in a solid fist, embracing your flesh — littered with imprints of your face pressing into the bark of the stump — he drew the metal of the blade to your collarbone. Some of the bone stuck out like an overgrown root in the ground, most of it just plain skin. You’re stuck in a vision of ecstasy, left incompetent at the hands of him; so all you really can do is grant him the consent of him to touch you, wound you up, kill you, earn up to his title.

A shiver crawls up your spine when the edge comes into contact with your cold, nude skin. Fear drowns in your cold veins, awaiting the possible death that could send you lifeless in a matter of seconds.

But to your own revelation, there is no flash of red, or a blistering puncture of skin in the contour of his weapon — only a minimal blistering. When you angle your head to look for the source of the slight burn, there’s a crimson puncture right above your breasts, deep enough to bleed; shallow enough to not cut at the bone or exhaust blood to the point of inevitable death. Gaping up at him through your languid sights, a rare tenderness occupies his distinct eyes; almost humane, incapable of brutality. He’s still situated between your spread thighs which are support at his waist, the material of his jacket sticking to your sweat-lustered skin.

There’s a strange intimacy shared between the both of you; with his body found in position between your thighs and hands — that abandoned the knife back into his pocket — latching themselves at each side of your hips. His fingers were pressed in a bruising, modest touch. As Ghost inclined himself back down your body, his visible lips press kisses to your forehead that drifted and continued on at your neck. You release a noise from your chest, circling your arms around his chest in a sort of hug, a hand brought up to his head and guiding him to your lips instead — deepening out a kiss that was more passionate, messier than before.

“You should’ve killed me, like all the others.” you confess at his lips.

He gathers one last taste of you before pulling away, still kept close and leaned down. Silent, he observes you and the confession which lingered in the air, possibly choosing wisely on how to answer it.

“You’re special,” he states, “Angelic, docile — nothing that I’ve come across before.”

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Hellouuu, I saw you Wirte for hobie brown (and I’m literally in love with him) and I wanted to request something. Like one day he stays over and says something like”I just wish there was more action in town” bc there wasn’t much going on that week and soon after that r gets into danger and it’s kinda hurt/comfort? PLEASE

Jinxed

Had to do a fic w my boy kendrick 🙏🏽🙏🏽

You listened as he talked, he was on his floor and you sat behind him and oiled his hair.

“Y’Know, sometimes I wish there was just more action. It’s gettin’ boring with missions and all that.” He said.

“So you don’t wanna spend more time with me?” You teased.

“You know that’s not what I meant.” He sighed. “Jus’ saying it’s borin’ is all.”

“I’m just messing with you. No, that makes sense.” You said, he talked some more and when you finished he got up.

“Thank you. I’ll be out for a few hours, but I’ll be back soon.” He said, putting on his jacket. “Don’t forget to-“

“Yeah, yeah, keep the door locked.” You rolled your eyes and waved him off.

“Yeah. I love you.” He kissed you.

“Love you too.” You said, he opened the door and left. You locked the door, and you sat down on the couch.

You hung out for about an hour, when you heard a loud crash in the room. You jumped up, and slowly went to the kitchen. You grabbed a knife when something- or someone- kicked you in the back. You yelped and fell over, dropping the knife.

You fell, and groaned in pain. Then some other people came in.

“What the fuck.. you all look like the goddamn swat team!” You shouted as they grabbed you, one of them grabbing their guns and hitting it on your head, and knocking you out.

They went downstairs, and quickly into their van, to which they put you in the back.

When you got to the warehouse, and you woke up, you immediately looked at the watch you always had.

It was there.

Your hands were tied, but you moved them, your fingers pushing random buttons, until it started to beep. Everyone looked at you, in confusion of what the noise was.

“Sorry. It’s my alarm on my watch, y’know…”

They couldn’t get the watch off so they waited until it shut up.

They waited until some huge guy walked in, and he was menacing for sure.

“Y/n L/n. We know about you and the spider.”

“Ohhh, you mean my boyfriend? Or soon to be husband. He doesn’t like labels.”

“Yes. Hobie Brown. We are trying to reach him, but can’t seem to do so on our own. So, lovely, here’s what we’re gonna do.”

“I think you just ruined the word lovely for me.”

“First, you’re going to shut up unless I ask you a question.”

All of his men decided to point their guns at you, so you did shut up.

“Next, you are going to tell me where he is, or every time you don’t , I will make sure that you suffer for it.”

“So where is he?”

“I would tell you but-“

A loud slap, right across your face. You just looked at him and smiled.

(Like the Loki scene LMFAOO)

“I’ll ask again, where is he?”

“What if I said I don’t know?”

He punched you this time, you groaned and looked down in your lap.

“Bullshit. Tell me now.” He grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

“Nah, kiss my ass.”

He started to get angry, and put his large hands around your neck. You struggled to breathe, and then someone came kicking down the door. Hobie.

The men’s henchmen started to run towards him, Hobie webbed them to wall with no problem.

“Hands off, man.” He said, the man took his hands off your neck. You looked at him.

“So, you came?

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here now would you shut up?” He said, looking at you a bit panicked but tried to remain calm.

The man ran towards him, and the rest was a blur as you caught your breath. Hobie came up to you when it was over, untying you.

“I’m sorry. Oh god I fucking jinxed it-“

“It’s not your fault-“

“You got into this because of me-“

“Hobie. Listen, I love you.” That made him stop untying you for a moment.

“I love you, and if I got into trouble it dwouldnt matter you know why? Because I know you’ll come for me.”

He took off his mask, and kissed you.

“I love you.”

You smiled. “Alright, but can you please untie me already?”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry.”

After you were untied, you both walked for a while before you got tired.

“C’mon.” He said, and grabbed you. (Kinda like mj and Peter in no way home)

He started to swing as you hid your face in his chest, laughing.

Once he landed, he made sure no one was following him this time and took you upstairs. And led you to the bathroom.

“Alright, sit down.” He said, you sat down on the closed toilet seat.

He checked out your face, and then your neck. Hand shaped red marks on your neck, and you cheek where he punched you.

He furrowed his brows as he focused and lifted up your face, examining your neck and face.

“I’m sorry.” He said again, genuine. He grabbed some ice from the fridge, putting it in a towel and putting it on your face.

You held his hand that was currently on your face as you looked at him.

“It’s not your fault. Okay? It’s nobodies fault.”

He nodded, and looked at your hands.

“We’re gonna be alright.” You said.

He smiled “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”

—————————————-

(Can you tell I’ve never really written a villain?)

Tag list: @enviinotes @rayis-psychotic @korizzybee @animechick555 @stupid-ninja @rreasonablydumbb @xxqueen-of-horrorxx @spidypunkk @criodzasn

@techta @1eonk @chipstermation6 @whosace16 @ @l-pandamatic-l

@spider-phoenix @zebralover @my-melo-gf @wiz-te-ria @tzuyuzzs @luvsaluv @mxkn

@deputy-videogamer @666kpopfan @jared-oranges @likelilac @jjkclub

@kitty-kei @blaxk-widow @hoesindifferentshows @lavsluvsu @lampylamperson @artsykerfuffleplus @notbluees @sp0kyzz @arlipooh @freeingrebels @ken-zah

[kyojurismo]

tags : fem!reader, spider-man au, reader gets kidnapped by a criminal, mention of injuries and blood, first kiss, bkg fell first & i got a little carried away alright bear w me.

notes : i just can’t help it, i had to write something about him as spider-man and here we are. across the spider-verse motivated me even more i guess . . . anyway, enjoy !! <3

special tag : @doumadono ♡

part two

spider-man!bakugo who happens to be your classmate, you find yourself study with him since he’s very smart and doesn’t even has to try. the annoying part? he’s popular and girls are all over him, so you’re often disturbed during your studying sessions.

spider-man!bakugo who starts developing feelings for you, finds himself staring at you as you focus on your notes and books, follows your figure in the corridors making sure you’re okay.

spider-man!bakugo who often finds himself checking on you while doing his usual patrols. you never notice him of course, he makes sure of it.

spider-man!bakugo who one day happens to hear you talking about him— well, about spider-man. he’s curious to hear your opinion about him.

“well, i’m glad someone is out there helping capturing criminals, but . . .” your friend shrugs, searching another article about spider-man. “look. he almost let this poor man fall from a balcony while trying to stop this criminal,” she points out.

you chuckle at her words, surprising her. “he can’t control civilians’ reactions, y’know. i think he’s doing a good work and he makes me feel more safe when i walk alone at night,” you confess, smiling. “we shouldn’t be too judgemental, i’m sure he’s doing his best.”

after hearing your words bakugo covers his mouth with his palm in attempt to hide his growing smile.

spider-man!bakugo who discovers some criminal kidnapped you and is using you against the police. he’s quick to arrive to the scene and enter inside the building, careful to not being noticed by the criminal pointing a gun to your head.

“please, lemme go!” you cry as you grip the criminal’s arm desperately, tears rushing down your warm cheeks. you can feel he is nervous, and that’s not good at all. he would probably shoot you if the police tries to come inside.

“they saw my face! i’m fucked! shit, i’m so fucked!” he screamed, shaking you and pushing the gun against your temple more harshly.

bakugo crawls on the ceiling, watching closely. he then quickly uses his web to disarm the man, immobilising him to the ground and then reach your shaking figure. “are you hurt?” he asks you, appearing in front of you.

“s-spider-man?” you raise your hands to touch his chest and shoulders to make sure he’s real and you’re not already dead or something. “yeah, it’s me. did he hurt you?” he sounds anxious, even though you seemed alright.

“uh i… yeah, i’m okay,” you check your figure and you don’t see any trace of blood or anything, then you raise your eyes to look at his masked face. “good. i gotta go now,” he hears the police starting to enter inside and he’s quick to rush through the back to exit the building.

“w-wait!” you turn and watch him, once his head turn to look at you you speak again. “thank you for saving me,” you smile at him. bakugo nods and then runs away, without being noticed by the police.

you couldn’t see it because of the mask, but katsuki smiled back at you.

spider-man!bakugo who feels good at the thought of being out there to protect you, to save you if needed. he has another reason to fight for his city.

spider-man!bakugo who bumped into you while running away from a scene after he succeeded in capturing the criminal. “careful, princess!” he shouts before running past you, before using his web to swing away. you feel your heart skipping a beat at the petname.

spider-man!bakugo who’s constantly debating about telling you his true identity, hoping that it would provide him at least a chance to be with you but also remember that it would put you in danger.

spider-man!bakugo who one night jumped into your window, falling on the floor and hitting your desk. you scream as you jump to your feet, scanning the figure lying on your floor… bleeding.

“oh my god… can you… hey!” you kneel beside him, checking the side of his stomach bleeding. you were about to remove his mask, as a way to help him breathing better but he’s quick to grab your wrist, almost scaring you. “don’t.”

you gulp and simply get up, reaching the bathroom and looking for a first aid kit. then you rush back into your room to medicate him. “what happened?” you ask as you start working on the injury. “i got shot, but the bullet passed through so it’s fine,” his voice is strained and visibly in pain but he doesn’t flinch as you medicate him. “it’s fine?! it seems like you’re bleeding to death!”

bakugo’s eyes search for your face and notices you’re actually worried about him. once you’re done you help him to your bed, helping him lying comfortably enough. you were lucky your parents weren’t home that night.

“i’m sorry,” he then speaks as you go back to your desk. “ah? sorry for what?” you turn your head for a moment, seeing spider-man lying in your bed was truly a sight. “coming to you, entering out of nowhere.”

you shake your head and then try to focus on the rest of your homework. you can feel him stare at your figure and it distracts you a bit, so you sigh and close your books a bit too loudly as you cringe. you get up and go check on him again, when you try to remove his mask once more he flinches away, stopping you.

“i need to check if you have a fever,” you explain, staring down at him. “i’m totally fine,” he shrugs and tries to sound convincing enough. “sorry, but i don’t really trust the word of a masked vigilante with a very bad injury lying in my bed.”

“i can lie on the floor if you prefer,” he tries to joke before grabbing your wrists as you try again. “okay, listen… you take it off while i keep my eyes closed and then i touch your forehead, what about it?” you try, just wanting to make sure he doesn’t have any infection from the injury. he seems to be thinking about before giving up. “hm.”

you close your eyes and wait for him to take the mask off, then you feel him guiding your hand to his forehead. you sigh in relief as you confirm that he’s alright. you retrieve your hand and wait for a couple of moments. “can i open my eyes now?” you ask him, a bit uncomfortable now that you couldn’t see what he was up to. “not yet.”

his voice is much closer than before and you then feel his breath fanning over you cheek. you shiver as his hand reached for your face and cupped your cheek. your heart starts beating so fast it almost jumps out of your chest before he leans closer and kisses your lips, the kiss lasts for a few seconds before he pulls away and lies back down, his face now fully covered.

you open your eyes and glance at him before turning around, trying to hide the embarrassment and the excitement. bakugo smirks from under the mask before closing his eyes, satisfied with his actions.

spider-man!bakugo who notices you’re trying to find out the real identity of spider-man, trying to see if it’s someone from your school. he’s sure you will never find out, he acts completely different when he’s spider-man. his secret is safe . . . right?

[me-uglypretty]

Three words and you know it

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Summary: Yelena and Kate fools Peter into a web of lies that eventually creates something more than a mischievous prank. [Loosely based on this incorrect quotes]

Warning: 18+ (G), fake relationships, comedy, pranks, fluff | Word count: 3.2k

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Oblivion was neither bad nor good, it was something that depended entirely on an individual’s circumstance. It was the knowing and not knowing. For an instance, there are certain time or situation in which, someone voluntarily walks into a shared space, a look of innocence on their face or that of oblivion, the utmost clarity in their words as they spoke with an unknown oath to gather attention that spew at confusion and awkward conversations. Though, it was to their unawareness.

It begun, a lovely morning for a warm breakfast, an extra sweet treat at the side, and two cups of tea. Natasha assured that breakfast duty was hers for today, and for you to sit comfortable on the kitchen chair. It forced a sort of routine, you would cook for her and she would cook for you, and Natasha profusely placing an extra pancake on your plate. Such arguments of being too full from your side was ignored.

You knew—Natasha knew. The extend of what you could eat, what you hated to eat, and everything that wouldn’t suffice your hunger. Especially for her special breakfast pancake that you truly enjoy, and have in numerous occasions requested for the same food later in the evening. It was your thing with her, and her thing with you.

Natasha knew that at every dreadful mission, the vile smell of gun powder, blood that sticks uncomfortable on your skin that was a mix of yours and the body that fell dead, and the anguish within which you hid with a joke—it was this little routine that curls a genuine smile on your face.

There, a smile etched on your face as you take anguish bites of your breakfast, and the equally contented smile on Natasha’s face as she unashamedly stares at you. A twinkle of some sort in your eyes and hers. The childlike expression which erupts at the most trivial situation or when enjoying the little things in life more than others, but more with each other.

You both were alike in that way, just not in the exact way that would make obvious of another correlation between two former assassins.

It was then, a wisp of white threadlike webs whizzed through the kitchen, an inch away from knocking your plate and a perfect hit to the cabinet behind you. At the exact moment that you swore, Natasha swiftly extracted a knife from beneath the counter, and a sound of cheer erupts with the appearance of Peter Parker.

Occasion alike this is when confusion arrives, playing a tune that led to strokes of awkwardness by the words of Peter, “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, Mrs Romanoff! I’m still trying to understand this, look it’s so cool, but it's so confusing and this update just made it more confusing…”

The show of a silver bracelet wrapped around his wrist had earned a whistle from Natasha, complimenting him on the new look and discreetly hiding the knife she was holding. He seemed unfazed as he continued talking. The young boy’s likely visit often result in many broken objects, and yet, Tony insists on presenting him with new devices.

“How’s uni?” you enquired, after ensuring that you wouldn’t be hit by another string of web.

Natasha who was sat opposite you, watched amusedly as you navigated your plate correspondingly to where Peter moved in the kitchen. Your attentive gaze on the young boy dithers when you meet the eyes of Natasha, the wiggle of her eyebrows seems to almost take your attention away, if wasn’t for the rumbles of the additional person in the kitchen.

“…I told him that we shouldn’t do it, but it happened anyway,” Peter had gone on, words upon words that was ignored by reason of the woman sat opposite you. “Opps, sorry again, Mrs Romanoff,” he mumbled, hands fixated on the string of web almost hitting straight on Natasha’s forehead as the other end was stuck to his bracelet.

Several taps on the countertop redirects his attention towards the sound. Natasha gave him a pointed look. “Peter…” her voice sounded stern, nearing that of annoyance, before a playful smile emerges on her face, and she waited for the realisation to settle at her attempt of a joke.

The intention was to gather rounds of laughter from the young boy, perhaps, for you to announced again that she was horrible at joking as it always seemed more scary than funny. Despite that, you would laugh, shaking your head as you always did, hand waving away any attempt of explanation for her ways of words in the tone of comedy.

Peter sensed it, she thought. There was a look of confusion on his face as he glanced between two, your shake of head and the grin on her face. His eyes widened, “Sorry, Natasha. No more last names,” he spoke, hands raised in surrender which drew soft chuckles from the spy.

Natasha doesn’t flatter, opting to wink at him then glancing at you. “Do you want anything else?” she murmured the question, voice soften so drastically, and only for you to hear.

You smiled, feeling the warmth that roused at your skin as her eyes remained stuck on you. “Not really, but maybe for lunch…”

It’s easy, the exchanges of words or when eyes met and spoke more than what anyone else could interpret between two. Perhaps, the familiarities of your past had easily engulf this understanding. The learning of life that wasn’t controlled severely, breathing in air that both warmth your chest and made your huff at the scent that carried through the room, after she had sprayed her favourite perfume.

It wasn’t your favourite scent, but you had made it a habit to expect that she always wore the same perfume. Natasha sprayed your jacket with her perfume once, and somehow, she understood that you detested the scent—unless it was on her.

It’s so easy to overlook the other person who stood there, mouth producing noises that seemed like nothing if it wasn’t her voice that spoke or yours that she kept close.

“Goodbye Natasha, and Mrs Romanoff!” Peter waved his right hand while his left grasped onto his sandwich, and he speedily left the kitchen.

It was that, the noise that enticed your attention to the sound. The clatter of silverware followed by grumbles of curses slipping out your mouth, and hands grasping onto the countertop when your knee bumped against the counter. Natasha’s head had promptly turned towards you after staring at the door where Peter’s exited. The first thing she observed was the sheer look of panic on your face, and round eyes widened as you chaotically tried picking up the fallen fork.

Natasha caught onto something there. Her sense of awareness has always been remarkable. Missions completed in perfection due to her foresee of situations and ensuring her head was clear to achieve the best outcome. Thus, your undoubted appearance had proved her theory of something else than simple exchanged of greetings. Before this abrupt occurrence, Natasha was sure that Peter was greeting her as two different persons, and throughout those exchanges, you were always by her side. Bodies almost pressed together by the proximity.

Unless—and her attention shifts, round eyes marvelling at the clear nervousness on your apperance, mouth parted as though you were ready to justify yourself, but only offered her empty blows of air. Natasha raised a single eyebrow, easily grasping your attempts of changing the conversation.

“Was Peter calling you…Mrs Romanoff?”

The question was asked with a firm tone, and it agitated your hands to reach for a tissue or anything closer. A needed distraction from how you could easily utter every little secret by the sound of her voice, the look on her face, and those eyes, so green and gleaming even beneath the gloomy light.

When your eyes redirected from your almost empty plate to meet her eyes, you had perceived the look of contemplation on her face. It felt that she was genuinely engrossed in the idea. In a split second where your attempt mask of indifference slips, and you were sure that she knew.

Natasha sighed. “Why did Peter call you that…” her voice softened profusely. “I’m not going to harm you…or throw a knife at you so tell me please?”

The question itself flashed a memory in your mind. A knife that was thrown across the room, slashing a wound on the side of your arm, and if you hadn’t spent that time gawking at the known assassin, you wouldn’t had walked out with a wound to remind you of the moment you met Natasha Romanoff.

She was the enemy first, then she became your closest friend. That endearment kind of feeling, a word that tasted both sweet and bitter at your heart’s desire. At times, you wondered if staying as enemies would be enough. But you stare into her eyes at that moment, a smile that materialises on her face with a look to encourage your confession and the warmth that spread in your chest caused by her.

You would never know, perhaps, you thrive in the prospect of having a close something with her than nothing at all.

In your spiralling state, Natasha’s body remained rigid as she sat there, and waited for an appropriate reason for that mistake. There was a voice in her head that pushed forward the thought she had dejectedly hid away. It was the sound of hope that would persuade for something good than bad. If by her desired outcome, she wouldn’t continue to harbour the truth of her profound feelings that flourish at the mention of your name and more when your eyes met hers, the most delicate sort of gleam that made her body contentedly warm.

A confession may not meet the ears of others, but her mind whirls at the intended notion of being together forever. A significant other. If those words manifested itself into reality, slipping from the tongues of others like a casual banter, it made her heart swell at the idea of marriage. Natasha’s felt sure at the prospect of life spend with you.

Would it be so bad if she was so selfish to want that more than anything else?

Natasha’s round eyes widened, mouth parted slightly, and a little sound of a gasp at the realisation that dawned upon her.

It was assumed as harmless crush alike one she had on Bruce. It was a meant to pass through stages of complete fixation of a relationship she wouldn’t dare ruin to something that wasn’t important. It didn’t went pass that. In fact, she tried pretending that it was a just a friendship. A forged platonic relationship that was so pure and intimate, and now, she was seeing you as someone more than a crush she was forced to disregard.

“Honestly,” you suddenly spoke, and her attention flatters from the whirling thought, returning entirely to you. “I thought it was a mistake at first…little boys, right? But I don’t think he knows,” you finished with a shrug, appearing unbothered by the confession.

It was your reaction that struck her heart wrongly at first. Her expression seemed to flatter by seconds, the soften look to one of confusion to utter hurt. The hint of bore in your tone had easily disregard the nervousness that lingered before. She was almost sure that you were worried for an entirely different reason. One that she shared too.

The worst outcome clashed in her mind than the ones that coloured so vividly of her hope. Her hands fisted at the thought that was ready to confess her entire heart to you, and every vulnerability that she hasn’t yet shared.

Then, she heard the start of rhythmically taps. It was your nails tapping against the kitchen counter. Her shrewd eyes focused on your appearance, attentive gaze trailing a path to where your hands clenched and unclenched, followed by the look on your face. Natasha noticed the corners of your lips twitch, intending to smile or frown, then forcing a look of indifference that appeared more suspicious. It was clearly an act of masking your anxious state from her.

Something clicked in Natasha’s mind. A knowing hum resonated through her throat, her body leaned back nonchalantly and pressed against the chair. The drastic change in the atmosphere had caught onto you.

You didn’t think more of it than her knowing the truth. Natasha must had found out that you haven’t done anything to rebuke the misinformation. However, you start to notice the little act of a smirk on her face, and a subtle look of arrogance on her face. It was that reaction which straighten your posture.

“It’s not a bad thing,” you spoke out of distress. “I mean— it’s not— I’m okay with it! Mistakes happen and it’s no one’s fault…” you trailed, and entirely stopped your splatter of words.

Natasha stared intently at you, daring more words to spill that doesn’t justify yourself at all. It’s that look, the kind used during interrogations, and something you had watched from a safe distance. Natasha’s famous look that expressed, ‘I know the truth,’ and the look that made the other person tremble.

Silence transmitted first.

You contemplated the chances of escaping from having this dreaded conversation, and grimacing at your mind replaying your previous choice of words. A conclusion roused that she must had known, Natasha was definitely—to your absolute confidence—making a joke at your flustered state because she knew the embarrassing misunderstanding that Peter had produced at your expense.

“Wait, before you think that…”

Natasha decided to stop your second sequence of rambling. “I’m not opposed to it,” she spoke, a tone of certainty in her voice as she gauged your reaction.

Natasha observed the seconds where you reacted by your eyes widening almost comically then gaze falling entirely on your plate, mouth parted like you were talking to your breakfast, and you stayed there for a moment too long.

Slowly, a shy smile emerged on your face and when you shifted your gaze to meet her eyes, Natasha was beaming at you with a smile that appeared wider and happier than any kind you had ever saw.

You could only utter a word or more so, a sound. “Oh?”

Natasha nodded her head. “Oh,” she jested, switching her position to lean her elbows on the counter and resting her head on her palm of her hands. Her teeth nimble on her bottom lip, and your eyes blatantly stayed on that sight.

“So…” Natasha started, redirecting your attention away from her lips to meet her glistening eyes. “From my understanding, you like the idea of being my wife?” she teased, and slowly leaned her body forward.

It felt like a similar tactic she used on criminals, but there was a difference ambiance to the way she looked at you. A honied smile, eyes glazed of such tenderness, and you wondered for a second there on what it would feel to have that same look stayed on you forever. Natasha that developed a genuine relationship with you that was far more special and different than the kind shared with Clint. The thought itself distracted you from the actual matter in hand, and warmth that roused from your neck to your face.

You think of that. The first time you met Natasha, the first time you exchanged greetings as partners, the first time you shared a meal together, the first you swore that your feelings were something would progress into nothing, the first time you realised it was more than building an honest attraction to someone from a silly misinformation, the first time you sat and imagined the notion of being Natasha’s wife, the first time you almost confessed your feelings at her sister’s pestering and it dawned on how serious—

You gasped.

Natasha impulsively jumped backward, grasping the knife she had kept hidden again.

The expression on your face had morphed into something that worried Natasha, it wasn’t a shy look of someone sharing similar feeling to her.

You cursed under your breath.

“What?” Natasha questioned, her attention heightens on you and your surroundings. “What’s wrong?” she tried again, her hand clasping over yours.

It seemed to had break your distraction as round eyes fell on her hand at the tender touch. Natasha observed the way your eyes lingered before interlacing your fingers with hers. Where your forefinger seemed to hover over that one finger.

You looked ahead, gazing into her eyes—alike the moment you first met, the occurrence of such mundane thing, and the constant moments where hearts thumps keenly—and you didn’t look away. Natasha swore to herself at that vital moment, nothing could split the connection between you and her, even if she had to leave with a bleeding heart at the expense of your tenderness towards her.

“What is it?” she asked. It was almost followed by, ‘Do you need me to kill someone?’

You shook your head. “Three words,” you spoke softly, and she looked confused at first. “And you know it,” you continued, softly squeezing her hand.

Natasha doesn’t comprehend your implication. It was unlikely that Peter had misaddressed you as hers on purpose. The absolute innocence and sincerity in his words was supporting his case. She reflected on your words, feeling the thought rush through when your finger traced the minimalistic tattoo on the inside of her wrist.

It clicked. Your pointed look and noted pointers then the look of annoyance that materialised on her face.

“Yelena and Kate.”

You nodded your head. “Yelena and Kate.”

A silent understanding breached between two after the revelation. Of course, it was the mischief duos that landed you in this predicament.

Natasha instantly dived into planning her course of action to scare them into admitting their antics and possibly fear them enough to attempt this prank again. Internally, she was fuming at the idea that someone else could had been paired with you. That her younger sister—once innocent and wouldn’t dare be disobedient—could had your intertwined with another name that wasn’t hers. It wasn’t real, she knew that. But she couldn’t stop the way her heart hammered that you could had possibly felt something for someone else because of one prank.

It lured her to look at you than stared absently at the wall behind you. As her eyes gazed into yours, round globes seemingly gleaming beneath the awful pale kitchen light, the feeling of annoyance seemed to vanish into something warm and soft.

Natasha wasn’t eager to confront her sister, but she was eager to continue where you had left off, where it was clear that you shared her feelings for this specific future too. That was it, wasn’t it?

You appeared to understand her thoughts. “So...” you murmured, and she repeated the same word with a childlike smile on her face. “You’re not opposed to us…hanging out…as wives?”

Laughter echoes in the kitchen at your question. Natasha couldn’t stop the endearing look on her face as you added another joke at her obvious desirability for you. A prank had brought light to your shared feelings on the topic, and it wasn’t nothing alike a passing crush for someone.

Unfortunately for Yelena and Kate, the supposedly best prank might had turned into the worst assisted links of an even more compatible duos by the name of you and Natasha.

NEXT

[deathbyathousandspiders]

HELL–BOUND.

— chapter one.

mcu!peter parker | zombie–apocalypse au.

IN WHICH you’re the last hope to saving the world from HYDRA’s destructive zombie outbreak.

✨masterlist.✨

1.9k.

“You were born for this.” The words were tattooed on your existence, handwritten on your destiny. “We made you for this.” And your fate was embroidered with such words, such purpose, even as your footsteps echoed on the ashes of humanity. The last remaining remnants that society existed were crushed beneath your leather boots, and broken along the cracking pavement. 

It had been four weeks since the outbreak. Four weeks since you’d been kidnapped by HYDRA; since you’d been separated from the avengers, since the death of Steve Rogers and since the downfall of America. The rest of the world was slowly catching flame with the fire that HYDRA started, withering away at the mercy of people who were stupid enough to try and fly out to salvation. 

But this virus wasn’t a disease, it was a creation. These infected people weren’t able to be cured, they needed to be stopped. And the only person who could stop it kept trekking on the pavement, white knuckles on a gun and a backpack. 

The fate of the world rested in that backpack, in your brain, in your blood. And you didn’t even give yourself time to process. You'd been running for days.

Natasha’s words still rang through your head like some kind of broken record, a senseless beacon of hope you tried to make some sense of. She’d come to free you, to inform you of the state world currently laid in. “If we get separated, I’ll find you.” She’d used the gravest tone you’d ever heard her muster. “And if you get lost, meet me in Massachusetts.”

You never would’ve thought that she’d be the one to get lost. To sacrifice herself just to get you out, and you knew why. You also knew you’d find her. You had to, needed to, or she’d find you. You’d find each other. Somehow, someway, soon, you'd be reunited. It was only a matter of time. 

But that was a week ago. 

Thank God you made it out, yet you were anything but hopeful. You could tell this was only the beginning. The start of something gut—wrenchingly inhumane. You were nearly out of New York, trekking on foot to Massachusetts like she’d told you to. Driving would put you at too much risk right now, especially when trying to journey alone. This helped you to better navigate your surroundings. 

Hearing the low glottaled groan of an infected, you craned your head in the direction. They were stuck beside a tree, webs restraining them to the trunk and their body deteriorating as the hours passed. The stench of their corpsing complexion alone was lethal. Still, you knew what you had to do. 

Aiming your gun, you kept your distance. Loading, squinting an eye, and firing like HYDRA was right all along: you were born for this. You made a clean shot, putting the victim out of their misery and continuing to trek along the ruins of a road. 

Until you heard a twig snap behind you. 

Your instincts were too fast as you loaded and aimed your gun once again, turning on your heel behind you to find yourself staring at a familiar face. Your eyes widened, lowering your gun only a little. 

“Peter Parker?” It was the first time you’d spoken in days. The words felt wrong on your tongue, and seeing him was something you weren’t sure what to make of. 

He looked older, matured, aged. Aged by the things he had to endure when the world ended; matured by the things he had to do to protect people, to witness the losses he did. He was older, in experience, in life, and in the days he knew were numbered. 

His hands were raised, but his eyes told you that he knew you wouldn’t shoot him. You were classmates, after all. Teammates, Avengers. Something more. You should’ve felt relief to have seen him, and part of you did. But the other part of you drove the actions that led you to put your gun in its holster at your hip and pace towards him. Peter stayed where he was as you slapped him across the face. Your blood boiled with rage. 

And he just let it. 

“This is your fault!” You spat at him, fighting the urges to punch him, to hug him, but even you knew that anger would get you nowhere; even you knew a huge part of you was undeniably grateful to see him alive. Unharmed. 

His jaw clenched and he’d finally averted his eye contact. Peter knew you were right, even as outlandish as the accusation was. “Y/N, please..” His voice was softer than you remembered it being, perhaps because of how apologetic his tone was. It almost thawed your anger. It almost reminded you that perhaps things weren’t as grim as you’d begun to believe. You couldn’t let it, though. 

Your fist raised to throw a punch. A roar far off in the distance ceased your actions. Your whole body froze, and Peter’s did, too. Cold blood and a trembling fist to your side, and you looked to Peter for a directive out of this. 

He grabbed your hand without hesitation, leading you into the forest beside you. Not a word was said. You were silent, invisible to your surroundings. Cutting through overgrown greenery, and stepping over fallen branches and knee–high grass. Peter led you past trees and bushes, over rotting bodies and patches of dry dirt, until you got to a twenty foot gate randomly placed in the middle of it. 

Like procedure, he placed his thumb on a touch screen and the gate opened, programmed to only open up a crack so he could squeeze through, and thus you behind him. The gate closed less than a second after you were through it, and just beyond it was a bolted door. 

Peter dropped your hand, unlocking the door and helping you inside. This must have been where he’d been resigning since the last time you saw him. He, too, had been taken by HYDRA when you were. He, too, had been worked and experimented on, just the same as you. And he, too, wasn’t a stranger to the way the two of you led the world to its demise. 

Did he know the part he played in all of this, though? Truly?

Silence reigned over the two of you as you calmed down, and Peter led you through the bunker he had been living in. There were walls of canned food, loads of weapons, working technology, and piles of papers. He’d been writing, documenting. 

Perhaps, he’d been alone. 

Peter was the first to break the silence. “Are you hungry?” He’d noticed you staring. “Cold? Want a change of clothes?” Even when the world had gone to shit, he still knew how to be a good host. Even when he knew you were upset with him, he knew how to make you feel comfortable. Seen. 

It took you back to moments before everything happened. Before everything changed. It brought back memories of a world you now only knew in slumber, things almost too painful to think about in waking moments. 

Taking a breath, you turned to face him. “Are you living here alone?” You ignored his questions. Typical. The query ached in your throat, you had to ask it. “Are there– umm.. Are there any of us left besides–”

“This is Natasha’s place.” He knew who you were trying to ask about. You watched the way he turned on a heater in the middle of the room. How his shoulders hung lower the deeper in thought he got, how many seconds were in between his answer and the realization that it might just be the three of you left. “I don’t know who’s left. Besides you and me, and Nat.”

And that’s when you realized the part she was playing in this; she had been protecting Peter, the same way that she’d been protecting you. The two of you were merely kids, after all. Clinging to the hope of getting back to a world where you could get college degrees, and they would mean something. 

You walked further into the room, following the warmth as it poured into the space. “When was the last time you saw her?” The rage you’d felt towards Peter just moments prior had already begun to thaw, already losing sight on where the anger came from. You were more focused, more worried, about Nat right now.

He sat down on a chair in the space, tapping his finger on the arm of it and bouncing his leg as he pondered. “The last I saw her, she was on her way to get you.”

That realization made your heart stop. Your feet glued to the floor, and your whole body froze. It seemed like Peter’s body caught whatever sensation of panic flooded yours. He froze, too. 

“Peter.. That was a week ago.” The words fell heavy from your lips, like the fate of the world was tied to them. And it was. 

He stared back at you, not daring to break the eye contact. Whether it was to provide comfort, or to better read your expression. “I know.” Even he understood the weight of this. The weight of whether Natasha was still alive, safe. Or worse. 

You looked at him, taking a breath. Realizing you were quick to your anger earlier, and realizing that maybe Peter didn’t know what role he played in this. Regret put you in a chokehold, the bitterness of death taking reign on the tension in the room. It stole any kind of wishful thinking you’d had, and made its dire presence known by sounding off in the ticking of a clock—hand. 

Grabbing your backpack, you went for the folder you’d kept inside. You fumbled to grab the papers, handing them over to Peter. “We need to find her.” 

A puzzled look danced across his face in the light. He wasn’t entirely sure what you were getting at, or what you handed him, which meant you were right. He had no idea what part he played in this. “We need to find her, and we need to get the fuck out of this continent.”

He looked through the papers, eyebrows pressing together as he processed the writings. “Y/N, what the fuck is this?”

“Did she tell you what our plan was?” You asked him, trying not to let your anxiety boil over. You needed to keep your composure. “Did she ever tell you what we need to do?”

“What the fuck.. What the fuck am I looking at?” He ignored your question. 

You looked at Peter and took a deep breath. Now wasn’t the time to panic, you knew it wasn’t. “Peter, I know how to stop this outbreak.”

Instantly, he met your eyes from where he sat, his entire expression changing the tone it directed at you. Misunderstanding morphed to confusion, curiosity. Hope. “How?” He forced the words out, needing to know the answer. 

“We need to find Natasha, and get to Wakanda.” You told him, hugging your knees closer to your chest. “When we get to Wakanda, they’ll know what to do.”

Peter wasn’t satisfied with that. “And then what? How does the world just go back to normal?” His questions were urgent, but not judgmental. He didn’t ask with a tone to attack you. In fact, the weight they gained told you he might’ve caught on to what you were about to say. “How do we cure these people?”

Anxiety ran a course through your system, gnawing at your insides and sending a chill down the length of your body. You stilled, minus the fidgeting of your fingers. Your breaths became trembled, and you procrastinated your answer. “We have to get me to Wakanda.. so that they can kill me.”

And the whole world went quiet.