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udunie · 3 years

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1) Since imprinting on animals isn't all that common, its effects on omega brains may not be common knowledge. Or rather they may not be common knowledge amongst sheltered young omegas. What is known is that after your dominant partner dies, you are free from the bond and from biological imperative to mate. Omega!Stiles has this brilliant plan - he wants to be free at all costs, but an imprinted omega will never be able to harm its partner... so why not choose one with short life expectancy?

2) Dogs don't live that long, all things considered. And the bigger the breed, the shorter its life. So Stiles goes for the biggest dog he can get, one well into his years too. A few years at the most and he's free for life, right? Right. The first time isn't that bad and when the imprinting kicks in, it's spectacular... Well worth the humiliation of being a bitch, really. There is only one problem. With every passing month Stiles has more and more trouble remembering his original goal of

3) attaining freedom. By the time his canine hubby dies, he's having trouble understanding the concept of freedom at all since all he can think of is doggy dick. Now, omegas whose partners die have preference for males as genetically close to the original one as possible. It's not a compulsion and a strong-willed omega may ignore it. But Stiles is half-feral at that point and as it happens his canine husband left a few attractive sons. It just so happens that Stiles is their mother. Oops?

Okay, so. I love this, and here's my take:

Let's put the previous zoo aus to the side for a second, and make animal matings absolutely socially unacceptable. It's extremely rare, and when it happens, it's not really talked about at all. Families would rather tell ppl that their omega child died than admit to an animal mating, so the 'side effects' are basically unknown, especially for sheltered, unmated omegas. It's a bit like backroom abortions for unwed women were back in the fifties (and before). Some people knew they were happening, but it's not something you can actually discuss, you know? There's no ads for the 'services' there's no info about how or when or why...

Just like backroom abortions were a means to and end (and women were either too desperate to care, or were not aware of the very real risks involved), there is, in this au, whispered talk about 'fixers', who can get an omega mated to an animal (usually a dog) and then get them 'free' in short order.

Once again, this would be something that regular society would find absolutely appalling, something you can't ask ppl about. There are no tutorials or pamphlets or anything to help you...

(Heck, maybe it can even work, if you do it right - and by right I mean the 'fixer' putting down the animal right after the mating bond is formed, so that the omega's mind doesn't have time to devolve... But the majority of omegas don't even know how it's supposed to be done)

Stiles is orphaned, is taken in by the Mccalls, maybe? And Scott and his mom are nice, but Rafael, the alpha, wants this freeloading little omega bitch out of his house as soon as possible, so he arranges for Stiles to be mated to one of his sleazy buddies, the first chance he gets.

Stiles is desperate. He would rather die than get mated at 14 to a drunkard thrice his age. But... There are whispers that Dr. Deaton, the town vet is a fixer? He isn't even 100% sure it's true, it might just be a rumor.

So he writes a little note about running away and ends up at the clinic in the middle of the night, begging the vet to help him?

And yes, it's true, Dr. Deaton is a fixer.

He is also a pervert who wants nothing more than to continue breeding his beautiful Neapolitan mastiffs :D

And Stiles isn't exactly a rich socialite happy to pay for his services, he is an orphaned runaway few ppl will miss, you know?

So Stiles ends up being happily mated to Caesar, his largest stud (incidentally, the largest puppy litter on record was a litter of 24 to a Neapolitan mastiff :D)

And after poor Caesar passes away three years later, it's only natural, that Brutus, their first born would take his place, fucking his mommy full of puppies over and over :D

(it would even make sense for omegas to gravitate towards their mate's family, as they would be the most likely to offer them and their offsprings further protection? It's perfectly natural lol)

#prompt box #sorry this one got long too lol #it's just one of those days when my brain is almost functional

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yehet-me-up · 5 years

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Conquest

Pairing: frat boy!Changkyun/I.M x reader

Rating: M for language/sexy times

Genre: College!AU, smut

Word Count: 3,785

Summary: You’re used getting what you want, who you want. You take pleasure in each conquest, but tonight you may have met your match.

Monsta X Kinks series part six: Spanking 🖐🏻🍑

The first time you see him, you have only one thought - you hate hate hate the smug look on his face. You can practically feel the arrogance radiating off him from across the party and you want to do anything you can to wipe it off him.

He hasn’t even noticed you yet, but the way he carries himself is a gauntlet thrown at your feet in challenge. He carries himself like he’s God’s gift to the women of MXU. As if the fact that he’s in the hottest fraternity on campus means he can eye the women coming through the door like they are prized cuts of meat, ripe for tasting.

He might think he can have everything he wants, but he hasn’t met you yet.

‘Dibs on that one,’ you say with a smirk, elbowing your friend Renee.

‘Which one? There’s so many to choose from,’ she says with wide eyes.

‘The cocky one in the corner.’ You lift your chin to point to where the man is holding court in the corner over a keg.

‘Are you kidding me? Him?’ she gasps and straightens the hemline of her dress. ‘Changkyun is like… a ladykiller.’

You snort. ‘Please. I’ll have him begging for it by hmmm -’ You look at your watch. ‘By midnight.’

She rolls her eyes at you, always amused by the thrill you get from the chase.

That’s the secret, to hunt them while making them think they’re the ones hunting you. It’s all about playing them right, to make yourself the quarry they’ve been longing for, you think savagely as you find your group of friends in the corner.

‘We’ve got a live one on our hands tonight ladies,’ Renee announces to Shireen and Lindsey with amusement.

Lindsey laughs out loud and pretends to look around the party with her hand on her brow. ‘Ooooh who’s tonight’s victim?’

Renee motions subtly to Changkyun in the corner and Lindsey whistles.

‘Going straight for the alpha tonight, eh?’ Lindsey says and bumps you with her hip.

‘You know me Linds,’ you say with honey in your voice. ‘I always go for the jugular.’

They don’t realize you’re the predator, not the prey, until they wake up and realize you’re gone. Get what you want from them and then get out before you can get hurt. That’s the trick.

Your friends watch you with a combination of encouragement and concern. They’ve long ago stopped trying to get you to have, you know, a real relationship again and turned instead to encouraging you to be safe on this warpath you’re hell-bent on cutting through the men of MXU.

‘Anyone care for a drink?’ you ask the group. Renee raises her hand and you nod, heading off for the keg.

As you make your way through the crowd, you study him. His laugh is easy, congenial. The picture perfect All-American college stud. You’d bet your car on him being a Business major or something to do with sports. He’s got the look down, you’ll give him that. Light brown hair artfully tousled across his forehead. Dark wash jeans and a white button down, Timbs. Classy, approachable, yet undeniably lust-inducing.

Which character will it be tonight? you muse. Student athlete looking for a different kind of workout? Poetry major looking for a connection? Maybe a sweet freshman at her first kegger? Fumble with the pump so he has to step in and help; eyes wide and voice pitched higher. Grab his biceps and coo. Pretend you’re not experienced to inflate his ego?

Nah. Not tonight, you think with a shake of your head. Something raw and needy is flowing in your veins and you need more of a challenge. Tonight you decide to be yourself, just with the volume turned up.

When you approach the keg you finally make eye contact with him. For a moment the clean image he presents fades away and you get a glimpse of the animal within. He admires your calves, the cleavage on display in the dress you wear.

You meet his look with a snarky raise of your brow and resolutely ignore him. Instead, you expertly get yourself a cup of what is undoubtedly cheap beer, ensuring that you bend your back to show off your ass. Behind your back you can hear male voices discussing and you smile to yourself while you fill another cup.

It’s like shooting fish in a barrel, truly.

Without giving him a second glance, you walk back through the crowd. You’d be willing to wager that not many girls leave him in the dust. Good, you think. You can only imagine the slew of broken hearts he’s left across this campus.

The beer is indeed gross, but by the time you finish the cup you’re laughing at Shireen’s story of her idiotic professor you’ve already acclimated to the taste. With a last sip you finish the cup and frown at it. It’s too soon to make another pass through the kitchen. He needs time to want you first, you think.

‘Can I offer you another?’ comes a deep voice from next to you.

The man in question is standing there, holding out a blue cup to you with his brow raised in question. Renee giggles behind you and you sigh. If he’s already coming over to you, he must be an easier catch than you thought. Oh well, it was fun while it lasted.

‘Thanks,’ you say, eyeing the cup. ‘But I don’t drink anything I didn’t pour myself.’

You smile up at him and he laughs. He’s not offended by the insinuation and you give him a point for that. There’s interest in his irises when he meets your gaze. Interest and something else you can’t name.

With a dramatic bow he motions toward the kitchen. ‘Might I accompany you to refill your own cup then?’

For a long moment you consider him before finally nodding. ‘Alright then. Lead the way, handsome.’

He drops a hand to your waist, ghosting over your lower back as he guides you through the crowd.

‘Handsome, huh?’ The sound is low against your ear and you shiver despite the heat in the room.

When you turn to sass him he’s closer than you expected. Close enough to see the flecks of gold in his eyes. Close enough to smell his cologne, something woodsy and spicy and definitely not Axe Body Spray.

‘You know you’re handsome. Don’t act like you’re not used to flattery,’ you say while leaning in to let your lips tease the shell of his ear.

He laughs and watches as you fill your own cup. ‘Something tells me you don’t offer flattery often, unless there’s something you want. So I’ll take the compliment either way.’

When you stand he’s leaning back against the counter drinking the cup he’d offered you. He holds your gaze and licks his lips.

You lean against the window ledge behind you. ‘So you weren’t trying to drug me. Do you think that makes you a prince or something?’ you say harshly before taking a large swallow.

This upsets him; brows pulling together, mouth thinning to a line. ‘I might not be the nicest guy in the world, but I stand for none of that here.’ He waits until you meet his eyes again. ‘I take nothing that isn’t given freely to me.’

You lift your shoulder and let it fall. ‘Good. It still doesn’t mean you’ll ever get anything from me, but thanks for playing.’

His expression melts into something more seductive. ‘What makes you think I want anything from you?’

Oh, he’s good. ‘Do you regularly offer beverages to women you’ve never met before?’

‘Maybe. It’s a free country. I believe wholeheartedly in hydrating everyone who comes into my house.’

‘I can fend for myself just fine,’ you challenge.

‘I’ll bet you can do lots of things just fine by yourself,’ he says with a wink. ‘But aren’t some things better with… help?’

The moment stretches out while you two size each other up. Fine, he is hot. You’ll give him that. You wouldn’t sleep with just anyone.

His chest looks broad and strong beneath his shit. The veins on his hands, cording up his forearms, make you imagine what they’d feel like holding you against a wall while he fucks you. His lips are full and red and you wonder what sounds he’d make when you pull the lower one between your teeth.

The familiar heat blooms low in your body, the itch you can never quite seem to scratch. You wonder just how empty and unfulfilled he’ll leave you when this is over. If you’ll take enough from him to make this worth the effort.

‘What’s your major?’ he asks casually.

You frown. ‘Don’t pretend like you care.’

He opens his arms wide, not letting you off the hook. ‘I’m just trying to get to know you here. Or do you normally have sex with men without knowing their name?’

The question is a knife to the chest, re-opening the wound you worry will never heal. The hurt animal inside you wants to roar at him.

In two steps you’re toe to toe with him. ‘Maybe. Maybe that’s what I like. Rough, impersonal sex. And lots of it.’

He holds your gaze, seems to stare down into your soul as he breathes deeply at your closeness. A question runs through his eyes and after a moment he gives voice to it. ‘Why me?’

‘Huh?’ he startles you and you step back into a person filling their cup at the keg.

With his free hand he reaches for your elbow, steadying you. ‘You know what I mean. I saw you notice me when you came in. Why’d you pick me?’

You deflect easily. ‘Why’d you pick me? You were the one that came over.’

He gives you a lopsided grin and you wonder again what his mouth would taste like. ‘I figure it would be one of two things. Either we’d hit it off…’

‘Or?’ you push him, mostly to distract yourself.

This was supposed to be a game. He was supposed to undress you literally, not expose your secrets.

‘Or the hate-sex would be great.’ He licks along his lower lip, eyes fixated on the line of your neck. ‘Whichever way it goes, I’d get to spend the night with you.’

The hopefulness in his voice slips underneath your defenses and makes your heart flip. You hate the feeling and how vulnerable it makes you. The armor you’ve taken to wearing around your heart slides into place with a comforting weight.

‘Sorry, I’m closed for the night.’

You turn to leave but he reaches a gentle hand for your shoulder. ‘If you don’t want to sleep with me, we could always discuss this week’s reading.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘Masculinities: contestation, circulation, and transformation? Tuesdays and Thursdays with Professor Khan?’

He says it with a smile that you recognize so well you want to scream.

The smile you give to men who assume you can’t play pool or fix your own tire or school them at comic book trivia. The smile of satisfaction you let cover you with pride when you’ve called someone on their shitty assumptions. And now it’s your turn to feel chastised.

‘You’re in my women’s studies class?’ you say, shocked.

‘I am indeed. I’m planning on getting an MBA in sports management. I want to have a thorough understanding of the male psyche and its impact on the feminine. I want to represent men’s and women’s teams equally.’

‘How have I not noticed you?’

His cheeks turn pink. ‘Well, I normally wear my glasses and a beanie to fit in.’ He shrugs. ‘This isn’t what you normally wear, either though, is it?’

You look down at the low-cut, thigh-grazing black dress and razor-sharp stilettos you wear and laugh. ‘No. It’s not. My friend Renee calls it my ‘on the prowl’ outfit.’

He whistles. ‘That’s definitely a name for it. I like it. I also like what you normally wear. I have to say I’m flattered you picked me as your target for the night.’

The reality of him is so separate from the fantasy you’d constructed you want to cackle. A few minutes ago you wanted to throw your drink in his face before launching yourself into his arms and sticking your tongue into his mouth.

Now you have no idea what you’re dealing with and it makes you feel raw and exposed and needy.

‘I don’t think we should sleep together tonight,’ you say so quietly you’re not sure he hears you.

He nods. ‘That’s fine with me. I’m just happy you’re talking to me. I’ve been trying to get your attention all semester,’ he says and runs a hand through his hair in embarrassment.

‘I’m sorry if I ignored you, I’ve-’ you start, thinking of how different things were in December compared to now. How different you were. ‘My boyfriend cheated on me over break and I’ve kind of been… throwing myself into forgetting him.’

There’s a warmth in his eyes that eases something cold and tight and aching inside you. ‘He’s an absolute idiot. If I had someone as intelligent and engaging and hot as you I’d never let you go.’

‘Maybe we should sleep together, then,’ you laugh bitterly. ‘Then you can get sick of me, too.’

He leans closer and you feel his breath against the sensitive skin of your shoulder exposed by your dress. ‘I highly doubt that.’

When he pulls back you almost toss your cup and grab him. But you cling to your sanity and breathe instead, torn between running out the door and taking a chance on him.

Something in you tells you to trust your instincts, that you chose him the moment you walked in for a reason; saw beneath his facade as quickly and easily as he did yours, even if you didn’t realize it at the time.

‘Prove it,’ you say, like a prayer. A plea for him to know you in all the ways you’ve been denied in the past.

Like a runner at the starting gun he seems to jump into motion. He takes your cup and his and tosses them in the enormous recycle bin. The reassuring warmth and firmness of his hand encloses yours and he leads you through the party to the wide staircase.

You hold on to him and follow him up two flights and down a hallway, the noise of the party fading away with every step. His room is easily three times the size of your dorm room.

He kicks off his shoes and notices your surprise. ‘Being the president has its perks,’ he laughs. ‘Privacy is definitely one of them.’

With your back you close the door, watching him and crossing your arms. ‘Are you sure you want to do this?’ you ask.

He reaches for the edge of his shirt and tugs it over his head, tossing it to the floor. With heat and need in his eyes he walks towards you. The movement highlights the cut of his torso, the defined lines of his chest and abs that you suddenly want to drag your teeth along.

‘I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life,’ he says, reaching both hands out and resting them against the door behind your head. ‘Are you sure you want me, this?’

The past few months sex has been about taking. With your ex you gave him everything, all that you had to give. Over the last few weeks you took without apology. You came first, literally and figuratively. Screamed and moaned with pleasure and didn’t care who heard or what they thought of you.

But with him you know you’re going to give him something in return. Tonight he’s asking more of you and you wonder if you’re ready to go there again.

You reach out a hand and run it along his jaw, trailing it down his chest, his stomach. Your fingers dance along the line of his pants and savor the sharp inhale of breath he takes.

He doesn’t let you hide; holds your focus and watches you intently. Soft as a breeze he leans forward and presses a light kiss on your forehead, asking you to trust him. It undoes you, the need within you rushing forward to meet him. You kick off your heels and stand on your toes to press your lips to his.

The motion pulls his body against yours and you wish you could rip off your dress to feel his skin against yours. Suddenly, you’re unable to get enough of him.

He responds eagerly, bringing a hand to cup your head while he works his lips against yours with a groan. The other arm bands along your back, anchoring him to you as you taste him.

‘More,’ you moan against his open mouth. ‘Now.’

‘Thank god,’ he says in return.

He bends, not breaking the seal of the kiss. The rough heat of his palms trace the backs of your knees, your thighs, before settling on your ass possessively. In one fluid motion he pulls you into his arms, guiding your legs around his waist.

You tug at his hair, pulling his lip between your teeth. Just as you hoped, he growls against you, hands kneading the flesh of your ass and pulling you against his arousal.

Tonight, you want to see what happens when you let him take charge, anxious to see how he’ll guide you both to completion. What he’ll mould you into with his hands and lips and cock; if you’ll like the person you become underneath him or on top of him.

‘I need to get my hands on you,’ he laughs against your mouth, his voice full of need.

He looks around and walks you back to his couch, sitting down so you straddle him. Freed of their job of holding you up, his hands seem greedy to know the feel of all of you. You watch as he strokes along your thighs, breathing hard in sync with him.

To help him you grab the edges of the dress and tug it over your head. Your hair lands along your shoulders, teasing the bare skin.

The way he savors the newly exposed skin makes you swallow. Before you can even breathe he grasps your hips firmly and pulls you flush against him, dropping his lips to the rise of your breasts over your bra eagerly. His mouth on the delicate flesh makes you whine and grip his shoulders to hold yourself.

He doesn’t rush and you like him the better for it. Instead, he takes his time, pulling down the fabric of your bra and licking first one nipple and then the other.

It could be minutes or it could be hours that you spend with his tongue on your chest, you lose track of time. Your hands bury themselves in his hair and your hips grind against his erection of their own volition.

When he’s inside you, it won’t be like before. You know this and try to prepare yourself.

He unclasps your bra and cups your breasts with his wide hands and you try to prepare yourself for how it will feel to come around him.

You lift yourself so he can slide off his jeans and underwear and you try to prepare yourself for how he will look when he buries himself inside you.

He reaches for a condom in the side-table and you stand, holding his gaze. Sliding your underwear off, you aren’t prepared for how it feels to stand before him, truly naked down to your heart and soul. Asking him to see you and want you.

‘Beautiful,’ is all he can say when you settle yourself on his lap once more, reaching for his face with both hands.

‘Perfect,’ is all he can say when you take him inside you, so deep you both groan at the perfection of it.

‘Mine,’ is what he says, holding you tight enough to bruise, when you clench around him and gasp.

You ride him with vigor, matching the rhythm of his thrusts into you. It feels so good and right you can’t keep your eyes open, clinging to him and drowning in him.

He grasps your hips, pulling you against him and angling you so he hits a spot deep within you.

‘Fuck,’ you whine, tugging him up to your lips by his hair.

The build of your orgasm inside you is a tidal wave you can’t control. He licks your mouth and you swallow his groans. He’s just as lost and close as you are.

Was this what you were waiting for? you wonder as the sounds of your sex drowns out all else. Someone to see you and match you?

The slap of his hand against your ass shocks you, biting and sharp at first and making you gasp. He pulls back to watch you, kneading the flesh, not slowing his thrusts.

‘Too much?’ he pants, searching for signs you want him to stop.

The sting fades to pleasure and you clench around him. ‘No, God. Please don’t stop.’

He smiles, wide and wolf-like. This time he spanks the other cheek, drawing a groan from your throat. His mouth finds your neck and sucks, the sensation sending pleasure down your spine to your core.

‘Please.’ It’s all you can say as you take him deep inside you, matching each of his thrusts.

You preen, becoming a wild and unruly creature as his hands make the skin of your ass so sensitive you want to scream. His grip tightens as he slams into you, uneven and desperate, and you know he’s just as close as you are.

‘Come with me,’ he groans against you.

The need to orgasm is so strong you can’t even manage words, just a noise of assent. You drop your hand to where your bodies meet, finding your clit. In seconds you explode around him with a strangled scream.

You collapse into his arms, panting. He holds you to him, his arms heavy and strong against your sweat-slicked back. After a beat, you pull back to watch him with confusion, wondering at how different this night ended than it began.

And it’s not even ten o’clock, you notice his clock with amusement.

‘Want to go again?’ he laughs, dropping a gentle kiss to your lips.

‘You’re not sick of me?’ you answer, watching him with wonder.

‘God, no,’ he says, voice absent of all joking, brushing your hair behind your ears. ‘I’ll never get enough of you.’

#DRABBLEPALOOZA #changkyun x reader #i.m x reader #i.m smut #changkyun smut #monsta x smut #monsta x x reader #monsta x fanfic #monsta x au

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spideytorchbigbang · 6 years

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Spideytorch Big Bang 2017 Masterpost

,Between the Smoke and Ruins by gleesquid

The Fantastic Four: Heroes. Villains. Gods. Ghosts.

Oh, how the mighty do fall.

In which Johnny Storm tries to save his family, Spider-Man tries to save the world, and they might as well save each other along the way.

Art by lamoscadomestica and Teshumai.

I Think I Need A Little Change by balancingbookact

Peter Parker is an average guy when he meets, and begins dating, Johnny Storm, of the darling Fantastic Four. With Johnny up in the sky and Peter down on the ground, Peter begins to question if he can ever fit into Johnny's super-powered life. Everything changes, however, when Peter is bitten by a certain radioactive spider and becomes Spider-Man. This should solve all of Peter's problems, right? The only issue: Johnny hates Spider-Man. Misunderstandings and hilarity ensue.

Art by Millielitre.

The Spider Prince and the Morning Star by Traincat

“Folks like to say there’s a monster that lives in the forest,” Old Swenson said the next day when Johnny told him his story. Johnny worked in his shop, when Swenson could afford to pay him. He fixed things, clocks and broken carriages. Johnny wasn’t good for much, but he had a hand for repairs. “And that it’ll grant you wishes, for a price. Folks will say anything, after a drink or five. Don’t listen to that kind of foolish talk, Johnny.”

When Johnny makes a deal with the monster that lives in the woods – himself for his sister’s happiness – he doesn’t expect the giant spider to take him to a beautiful castle, or to reveal himself a cursed prince. There’s only one catch: he’s only a man in the darkest night, and Johnny can never see his face.

Art by johnny-storms-hair and Pariah's Dream.

Happy Family Planning by amaronith

Peter always thought he’d have more of a say over when he had a kid, that it would be something decided between him and his hypothetical lover some time down the line. But between his board of directors insinuating that the public doesn’t trust a single and child-free CEO, and a rather insistent alien queen wanting him as some kind of stud male to save her people, Peter’s ‘someday maybe’ plan has ended up becoming 'no time like the present’ when said alien queen gifts Peter with an egg. In the face of Johnny’s depression over his still missing family, Peter invites Johnny to live with him as the baby’s nanny, because living with the guy you have over a decade and a half of repressed romantic feelings for and raising your daughter together under false pretenses is a plan that can’t possibly back fire.

Good Job, Pete.

Art by @millielitre and @haziart.

hope and fear, i think there is a pattern here by summerdayghost

As far as Johnny was concerned the notorious Spider was nothing compared to that Peter Parker, girlfriend stealing menace. The facts that Peter has no clue what Johnny is talking about when Johnny calls him out for it and that Johnny sort of sees the appeal do not make things better.

Or an au where Peter Parker chose to be a villain instead.

Art by Sciderman.

The Long Road Home by Bookdancer

A witch turns Johnny into a yellow lab, effectively leaving him in the middle of New York City with four paws, no way to communicate, and oh yeah - a dog that can flame on isn’t exactly inconspicuous. All his instincts scream for him to run home, but to his confusion, his paws aren’t leading him to the Baxter Building. Aka Johnny Storm turns up at a run down apartment only to discover that the place belongs to one Peter Parker. Only problem is, Johnny doesn’t know that Peter is Spider-Man, and Peter doesn’t know that Johnny is a dog.

Art by meereswiederkaeuer and hazirart, and a collaboration by them here.

This ain't no fairytale by theKasiaLin

When Peter gets dragged by Gwen into the Central Park in the middle of the night to look for a body he doesn’t expect to be bitten by a werewolf (it’s not like they exist, right?), but that’s exactly what happens. His life takes rapid turn, he’s lost his uncle, a crazed killer alpha werewolf is trying to get to him, and he can’t even control his own body. To make the matters worse the fate seems to like playing with him as it turns out that the only person who can calm him down is none other than Johnny Storm, a self-absorbed cheerleader who seems to embody everything that Peter hates. But maybe being a werewolf won't be as bad as Peter thought...

Art by @balancingbookact and intern-gershwin-palmer.

don't throw away my love by lamujerarana

When Johnny and Peter step through a magic doorway, the Inhuman Eldrac, they are sent on a trip through the multiverse where they encounter version after version of themselves, all at different stages of their lives…all of whom are deeply in love. Could Eldrac possibly be trying to tell them something?

*** “So how did you figure out you were in love with your Johnny?” Peter asks.

“Huh,” Elderly Peter says. “You know what, kid, it’s easier if I just show you.” He takes two steps over to the bed Peter's sprawled out on and whacks Peter on the back of the head, good and hard, and then barks, “You’re in love with him, you idiot!”

“Ow!” Peter complains, rubbing at the back of his head. “That hurt!”

“Well,” Elderly Peter says, not sounding very sorry at all, “you have a very thick skull. It’s going to take a while for that to sink in, but it will eventually.” He sighs. "Make that a very long while."

Art by Pariah’s Dream.

A big thank you to all of our participants!

#spideytorch #spideytorch big bang #spideytorch big bang 2017 #mod post #long post/

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