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#i've been staring so long at these pictures of you that i almost believe that they're real◑ image
ianfm · 1 year
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▀▄▀▄▀ ɪᴀɴ ᴠᴏɢᴛ ᴘɪɴᴛᴇʀᴇꜱᴛ ᴅᴜᴍᴘ: 010/??? ▀▄▀▄▀▄
⋆˙⊹˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹༶ ⋆˙⊹˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹ PART 9 ༶ ⋆˙⊹˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹༶ ⋆˙⊹˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹
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pierregazly · 1 month
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i've got you ꨄ oscar piastri
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oscar piastri x best friend!reader
warnings: angsty, arthur leclerc is the villain, oscar is in love w/ the reader but wont ever admit it, no hea [963 words]
request: 💗 can i request oscar with prompt 6? please and thank you!! 😽[6. "I've got you."]
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A violent sob ripped itself from your body, your hand clutching the phone in front of you, the incriminating photo in plain view as you tried to process what was so prevalent on the screen.
It had been so obvious that things were falling apart in your relationship, they had been for months. Date nights were cancelled, anniversaries forgotten, but you never thought he would lower himself to this. Never thought you’d be getting that ‘I think this is your boyfriend?’ text. 
But here you were, trying to contain the feelings flowing through you, the anger, the sadness, the heartbreak.
He had told you it was a small trip with his brothers, it was offseason for everyone, the only time they really had to relax. The lie was staring right at you, Arthur’s hands gripping the ass of an unnamed brunette, his lips connected with hers. There was no denying that it was him, the video that followed showing the two of them pulling away from each other, an intoxicated smirk on the lips of your long-term boyfriend.
You didn’t know how to react. Didn’t know if it was worth sending the proof to him, whether you should call him and ask him outright or act like it was all fake. The emotions were running through you so aggressively, you hadn’t even had the chance to properly think through everything.
How could he do this? Why did he think this was okay? How can he tell you he loves you, and then do this? Were you not good enough for him?
The variety of thoughts continued to cipher through your mind. Your body was begging your brain to stop, begging it to give you a moment to get a grip on reality, begging it to allow you a moment to think clearly.
You barely heard the repetitive knock on the door, the noises mixing in with the unrelenting thumping noises clouding your ears.
Oscar had a key to the apartment, always had. He always claimed it was a ‘safety measure’ and he needed to have one in case anything happened, or in case he ever had to get you into your apartment after a night out.
Most of the time it was used because you weren’t answering a message quick enough, and he wanted to spend time with you. 
He had been messaging you since this morning, offering to bring you pastries from your favourite bakery, asking if you wanted to get lunch, had asked more than once if everything was alright. It wasn’t until he saw the pictures, his brain taking a moment to catch up with his eyes when he realized why you weren’t answering him.
You had been friends for years, longer than any of your other friendships, had known him almost double the amount of time you knew Arthur. He had tried more than once to explain how disastrous dating the Monegasque could end up, but his attempts were futile. You were too stubborn to listen to him, too enamoured to believe that Arthur could be anything except lovely.
There was barely a thought in his mind before he was making his way to your apartment, aggressively knocking on the door; practically begging to be let in. He knew you were in there, could hear the soft sounds of you crying through the door, his heart breaking with every vicious sob he heard through the wood.
It didn’t take him long to find his key, pushing open the door with a bated breath, unsure as to the scene he was about to walk into.
You didn’t even acknowledge his presence, your body having begun the process of curling in on itself, trying to savour any sense of peace it could gather. Oscar felt his stomach drop when he finally made eye contact with you, the puffiness of them so obvious, the tears still clouding your vision.
“Oh, love. C’mere, I’ve got you.”
A small whimper left your lips as he sat down on the couch next to you, gently tugging your body into his. Your hand clutched onto his shirt, the tears still falling from your eyes instantly soaking the material when you pressed your head to his shoulder. 
“Why’d he do this to me, Osc? Was I not good enough for him? What did I do to deserve this?”
Every other word punctuated with a cry or a sniffle prompted a small grimace onto his features. The pit in his stomach grew worse and worse with every word that fell from your mouth, his own heart breaking again as he tried to console you.
“You’re more than good enough for him, I’ve been saying for years you’re too good for him. You didn’t deserve this, at all. He’s a piece of shit,” he said.
His hands continued to rub up and down your exposed arms, your tears subsiding as you melted into his comfort. The grogginess was still prevalent in your head, your eyes puffy, your brain still trying to get a grasp of what was going on; but all you could focus on was the calluses on Oscar’s fingers catching on your skin, the heave of his chest as he cuddled you closer.
He was always the first person there for you, even without having to pick up the phone and ask him to be. For him, you always came first, above racing, above his friends; he would drop everything he was doing and run to you if you asked. He would never admit that, though, ever.
“I wish it was you all those years ago, Osc. You would’ve never done this to me,” you said.
Oscar felt his own heart splitting in two. You were right, he wished it was him all those years ago, too. 
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i did NOT know where to go with this one!!!! so angsty and sadness it is!!!!! sorry!!!!
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callingmelili · 4 months
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A deal (part 2)
https://www.tumblr.com/callingmelili/740888816139796481/a-deal-part-2?source=share Part 1 here!!
Right where I am.
Right where I am.
I can't believe he has the gall to tell me that, I don't think before bracing myself on the floor and forcing my shaking thighs to cooperate in lifting me off the damn dildo. However hard my cunt is gripping it, it's slick with my juices and I've almost managed to find my balance on my knees when Mark shows up on the doorway. He tilts his head to the side as he strides towards me. "Did I happen to stutter, Mia?"
"Fuck you." I spit out, moving to get a foot underneath myself. He's faster, thoguh, so much so that I don't realize what he plans to du until his hands have pushed me down by the shoulders, driving the dildo base-deep into my cunt again. A ragged moan escapes my throat as it bottoms out and mark laughs. "You could at least pretend you're not enjoying this. See how easy you are with just a little help?"
I struggle against his hold, but between my exhausted legs and his physical superiority, I simply can't overcome the strength with which he's got me impaled by the dildo. "Let me go! What the fuck, Mark? This wasn't part of our agreement!" I look up at him, the distance between our eyes seeming even larger than it even is. Mark is a tall man, much taller than me when I'm standing up and a veritable giant right now, as I kneel in front of him. "Hey! Are you even listening, let me go!"
His mouth stretches into a smile. "Oh, sorry." The strength with which he's pushing me down diminishes, and I take the opportunity to surge forward before wondering why he didn't take his hands off my shoulders completely.
"I- Ah!" In a second I find myself right back where I started, speared open and writhing on the floor. Mark pushed me back down, and in the same movement he came closer, when I glare up at him I find my nose knocking into his hard, clothed cock. "Mark!" I wish it sounded less like I'm begging him for something and more like I'm annoyed but it's the best I can do at the moment.
Mark only stares down at me for a second before he bursts into laughter, hands tight around my shoulders. "Oh, you should see your face right now. You would make a good thumbnail in a porn site Mia." He grins and releases one of my shoulders to pull his phone out. "Now, smile."
I definitely don't smile, but he grabs my hair and forces my head back before snapping the picture anyways. My eyes prickle with humiliated tears as the gesture forces my center of gravity to shift and I grind down into the dildo that is spreading me open. "You're not getting away with this, you asshole."
"Yeah, yeah. You know, you can't prove you sent me that last picture. And even all the others… have you considered the fact that I could report you for prostituting yourself? Tsk, you've been so bad? I'm sure no one is going to look kindly upon this, so why don't you fill your mouth with something before it gets you into even more trouble." He glances pointedly at his own pants and my mouth falls open in realization. "Hurry up, do you want to be reported for soliciting?"
"Oh-" This time a tear does slide out of the corner of my eye. "You were-- You were planning this."
He rolls his eyes at me. "Of course I was. You've never been very smart, I guess I should have expected that you wouldn't catch on." He unbuckles his belt and glances pointedly at his thick, long cock, the imprint of which I can see pressed to the fabric. "Get with the program, will you? This is embarrassing."
"I hate you, I'm not a whore," I say, but my hands seem to have already resigned themselves to what is going to happen and undo his fly before taking out his cock. Realistically I don't have another choice. Well, I do, but it means losing my career and my future. "Do you think I don't have pride? Or dignity?"
"I have a whole camera roll that says you don't." He grips himself and slaps my cheek with his length, leaving a sticky trail to my mouth. "Don't make me mad Mia. I have a lot of patience but this is getting ridiculous. Use that dignity and pride to suck me off properly."
This is happening. I can't help but thinking incredulously as I open my mouth. This is happening, and Mark has his phone ready to document every second I spend sucking him off. This is happening and I can't stop it, this is happening and I'm so wet.
"Oh, that's a good whore. You've got a well trained mouth, don't you?" He pushes in, holding me tight by the hair. I'd initially thought of drawing it out but Mark is relentless, pushing me down on his cock until it's hitting the back of my throat. It takes all my willpower to not gag around it and let it slide in further. "C'mon baby, relax." He pulls back a little and thrusts back in. I'm dimly aware of the phone pointed at my face. "Shake those hips, alright? It's going to feel good."
Again, he thrusts in, again and again and I refuse to move until he slaps my cheek, cock still stuffing my mouth. "I said fuck yourself on that dildo, Mia. Now." He returns to fucking my face, hard enough to make my eyes water as I start clumsily grinding back on the dildo, whining around his cock at the sensation of being filled on both ends. "You look good like that." He grins, the hand that remained on my shoulder finally moving over to my head. He grips my pigtails like handlebars. "I'm going to tell you how this is going to work, you're going to nod and suck and keep fucking yourself or there will be consequences, understood?"
Wetness runs down my cheeks as I nod, somehow it's only then that I manage to nail the movement that has the dildo in my cunt hitting just the right places. My head is fuzzy, all I can hear is the wet sounds of my holes being filled again and again and Mark's voice. "That's a good whore. I expect this after every class, got it? You'll come wearing no panties and with one of your holes stuffed, when everyone's gone you're going to sit under my desk and keep your mouth around my cock unless I tell you otherwise." My eyes widen, he has office hours after class. Not that many people come by but there's no doubt I'll be sucking his cock at the same time my peers ask for academic advice. "I like to think you know your place, so from now on you will be sending me a picture of you naked in the bathrooms at college before every class. Make sure to write on your tits the time and where you're going."
His thrusts grow erratic, as do mine. I've already come once and my oversensitive cunt is clinging to the dildo."Nhhhhh" Saying no is about as useful as saying yes.
"That's right baby." he strokes my cheek. "I have a lot of ideas but we're starting gradually. You brought this on yourself by cheating after all. If you're good this will be fun but I can also make it difficult. You wouldn't want to have to dye your hair blond or get those huge tits pierced, would you?"
I'm so close, I whine around him as my hips stutter on the dildo. "Or maybe yes?" He laughs. "How about getting your lips filled? Or huge whore eyelashes? You should have just told me you were into that. We'll work it out." He groans. "Fuck I'm close. Ha. Be a good cunt and come with me, won't you Mia? It might not be as easy for you to get any sort of orgasms in the future."
It's degrading, it's terrifying. One misstep and I'll lose my career and everything I've worked for anyways on top of people considering me a pervert. He is turning me into a thing for his own amusement and I'm about to orgasm from it.
I feel Mark pulsing in my mouth at the same time that my cunt clenches around the dildo, and I feel a rush of wetness between my legs that soaks the floor while I shake int he throes of the best orgasm I've ever had.
After it passes I am mindless, still speared into the dildo as Mark tucks his cock away and wraps something around my neck. Something rich and thick that smells like him. "Fucked the words out of your head, didn't I?" He leans down to grab my tongue from where it's hanging out from my mouth. i don't remember sticking it out. His fingers pinch the soft flesh and force me to turn my head to the side, towards my mirror and then I see.
I see a whore with her owner, sitting in a puddle of her own juices, a dildo deep inside her cunt and her hips still thrusting back onto it with pathetic, little aborted movements. Mark has his belt wrapped around my throat like a leash, he's fully dressed where I'm only wearing socks and he's holding my tongue outside of my mouth, making my facial expression a sort of slutty surprise that only grows more degrading when paired with my bare breasts and pigtails.
Mark turns to press a harsh kiss to my temple and releases my tongue before lifting his phone and aiming it at the mirror. "Smile if you like our new deal, Mia."
This time I do smile as the shutter clicks.
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kairiscorner · 10 months
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question of the day: who would fall the hardest if they ever fell in love?
well... i've got 4 candidates in mind, and i think... (1/4)
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miles g. morales — guilty of falling hard for you.
summary: miles morales always struck you as an apathetic guy, one who wouldn't particularly take relationships too seriously; until you both fell for each other, you realized... he did indeed fall for you, but he fell hard, way, way too hard for you. pairing: miles 42 x gn!reader genre: fluff !!
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miles g. morales was, to you, such a cold, apathetic guy who always looked calm and composed in everything he did. he seemed like a guy that, you believed, wouldn't care too much if he was in a relationship–that he would put himself before his significant other; though you didn't have any evidence to back it up, save for how distant he seemed to you at first. but oh, were you wrong.
miles g. morales wasn't really all that insensitive as you thought when you got to know him, in fact–he was more sensitive to your thoughts, needs, and wants more than any other boy had ever been for you. it took a while, but the longer you spent around him, the more obvious was the fact that he truly, truly cared about you, from the bottom of his heart.
miles g. morales was the boy who'd stay after class, waiting for your class to finish so he could meet up with you and just be around you. ask him to explain why he's always risking his ass getting scolded for loitering outside your classroom, he can't give you one straight answer. "we had free time", "i had no where else to go", "i... left a pencil in that classroom. yeah."
miles g. morales would never admit to your face that he does indeed stare at you sometimes when you're not looking. whenever he sits close to you in class, be it behind, next to, or diagonally across to you–he always finds every angle of you to be a perfect angle to stare at and admire. don't be mad that he's looking, though, he can't help himself; you're way too mesmerizing for him to handle.
miles g. morales whose sketchpad gradually became a book full of... you in it. it started off as simple, small doodles of you; little cartoony you's that he found adorable and kept drawing when he wasn't focusing on anything else. but as time went by, he found himself focusing on you and your features more and more, almost as if he couldn't rip his gaze away from you.
miles g. morales had also noticed that whenever you speak, he hangs on to every word you say. he thought it would've creeped you out at first, how he can remember all the little details you'd tell him when you're telling him about something that happened in your day or how he remembers all the names of your pets, friends, favorite restaurants, favorite bands and artists–he hangs on to every word you utter, and he can't help it; your voice is just too tantalizingly sweet and attractive that he can't not listen to every word you speak.
miles g. morales was the boy who would use his intimidating appearance to his advantage and defend you against assholes who wouldn't take 'no' from you for an answer. he'd stare them down and glare at them, remind them for you that you said 'no', and if they didn't get the message the first time... they'll have to get through him to get to you. "i'm not gonna back down just because they're bigger than me, because i don't fear them. i don't fear them because, for all their brawn, they sure don't have any brains. and whatever happens after, i'll make sure you don't get in trouble; i'll shoulder the fault. i'd do this for you, every time."
miles g. morales would never wish to get in trouble or have beef with anyone else, but if it was you that others were bothering, then he'd willingly do everything he can to keep you safe and unbothered. he doesn't care what happens to him, so long as you stay safe, so long as it isn't your face being beaten in. you insist he shouldn't do these things for you, but... he can't help it. to picture you in danger makes his heart feel heavy; to get rid of that heaviness, he does these things for you, because he... he loves you.
miles g. morales doesn't dream at night, or at least didn't dream for a long while–or maybe he did and just forgets what he dreamt of the previous night–but when you two became much closer friends, he began to see glimpses and images of you in his dreams. in his wildest dreams, he was able to tell you in all kinds of scenarios that he felt weird around you–a good kind of weird. he'd feel a kind of warmth in his chest, accompanied by the pitter-pattering of his heart when your eyes lock with his, and he feels this urge in the corners of his lips to smile widely when you smile up at him. and, he'd never tell you this, but... in those dreams, he'd tell you how he really feels, and you'd teach him how to handle those feelings by placing your hands on either sides of his cheeks and pulling him close to your face–your nose feeling so soft against his own when your noses brush together–and with the feeling of your hot breath against his own lips... he wakes up.
miles g. morales wakes up to the reality that you probably only see him as a very good friend, a friend you used to think wouldn't care about those who love him but was proven very, very wrong. the friendship bracelet you made for him sits there by his nightstand, next to a cutely frame photo of the two of you at your birthday party. you designed that photo frame for him, and despite how a guy like him probably wouldn't care for cute things... he finds comfort and solace in a bit of cuteness in his life; he just wishes he could express that to you, you, who is cuteness personified. he wears that friendship bracelet every day–and wears it proudly. he doesn't hide it under his sleeve nor tuck it away when you're not looking; he's always got it on and shows it off by just having it on him. he loves having mementos of you on him, it gives him a feeling he hasn't had in a long time... and he hopes that, by some miracle, you'd feel that feeling for him, too.
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tags !! @ii01vq @luvstarrstruck @maxoloqy @k4tsu3 @solecitoszn @toneystank-3000 @popeheywardssecretgf @lovefrominaya @onginlove @meowmoraless @euphovlq @anikaluv @conitagray @q2ie @zalayni
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heliosundercover · 24 days
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Oblivious dick Grayson
Dick, "Am I missing something?" Grayson. A great leader, brother, and friend. But he's horrible at picking up signals, even though he’s a flirt himself.
 
Dick had constantly fumbled the bag. He had a tendency to completely miss signals; it became a joke between his friends.
 
"Wait, you’re telling me she was giving me “fuck me eyes.” Ha, you’re hilarious,” Dick says in air quotes after being told some girl on the street was flirting with him, as if it were unbelievable that he gets female attention. 
 
But with you, he was suddenly hyper-aware, hoping that he wasn't missing something with you. 
 
"Was she flirting or being nice?" He sat on his bed, staring at the ceiling. Today he bumped into you at the supermarket, and you complimented his hair, saying that it looked soft. You even leaned in super close, like you wanted to touch it.
"Dick I don't know. How'd you get that from what do you want on your pizza, dude?" Jason replies, rubbing his temples. 
 
Everyone thought this crush on a random civilian was getting a bit ridiculous, especially since she was clearly interested. But in his mind, he couldn't fumble this one. You were different, like you were too good for Gotham when you first met; he knew almost instantly but somehow missed the blatant attraction you had for him.
Dick wasn't the type to believe in love at first sight. 
But that night, he started wondering if it was real. When he first saw you, you were sitting in a bar drinking with a group of friends when he walked in, and he couldn't take his eyes off of you, and neither could you. At some point, you said fuck it and went up to him, chatting it up; it was an instant connection. But of course he missed your signals, thinking you weren't interested at first. It wasn't until you wrote your number on his hand and hearts around it that he realized you were attracted to him, but somehow he still felt like the guest could be friendly. The simple gesture has him thinking the entire night.
 
It took so long for him to ask you out officially; he had been too afraid to ask you out, afraid that he had misinterpreted your feelings. But when you agreed, his face lit up. Weeks of torment were finally over. You agreed to go to a small cafe for something casual.
 
Dick was on mission today. He was on a mission to not miss a single thing about you. Over the past few weeks, he has been meticulously honing his observation skills, pouring over self-help books, and practicing mindfulness. He's been so deep in this self-imposed mission that he has ended up ironically missing the most important thing: your clear, no longer subtle, signals of affection. 
 
You look up from your phone, and your lips curl into a smile that could make any man's heart flutter uncontrollably. You tilt your head gently, and he swears your eyes shimmer with a playful glint. That's your signal. It's always been your signal. But Dick, bless his soul, misses it entirely. He's too engrossed in everything, down to the intricate details, missing the big picture in the process. 
It was driving you crazy. Weeks of flirting felt like it was going nowhere, then suddenly he asked you on a date. It was so confusing. It had you thinking you were the issue. 
"Do you want to order anything?" Dick asks, his eyes glued to the menu. You giggle softly. He was cute, all focused like that, like the menu was the most interesting thing in the world. Gently shaking your head, suddenly it clicked. He was just nervous, overthinking, or both. After you've been trying to get him to notice the signals for weeks now, Dick was just being a bit awkward.
 
"Hey, Dick," you murmur softly, extending her hand across the table to gently touch his, causing him to finally look up. You meet eyes; you can see him searching your face for anything, and you giggle again.
"Im going to be honest here, Dick," you squeeze his hand softly. 
"I've been flirting with you for weeks, and I can't tell if you're not interested or what, but it's driving me mad."
 
His eyes go wide, and the irony of the situation kicks in almost immediately. This whole time, he was so focused on not missing something that he missed weeks of flirting that he wanted to kick himself. 
"No, no, it's just," he laughs, like the weight of the world is off his shoulders. 
 
"I like you too; I like you a lot, actually, but I was so afraid of reading the situation wrong that I ended up doing just that."
 
He laughs again. His laugh sends relief down your spine, so you weren't crazy; he was just overthinking it. It was kind of cute knowing that you made him flustered. 
 
The date pretty much flies by after you get over that not-so-small hurdle. The connection had been there for weeks, so it was easy for you two to talk. And when the date ended, neither of you wanted it to end, so he walked you home.
 
"I really liked spending time with you. Do you want to see me again?" 
He asks when you get to your apartment door. The question makes you roll your eyes. 
 
"No, I don't want to see you again," you say jokingly, but you see the panic on his face.
"Of course I want to see you again, Dick. I really, really like you."
You step closer to him, and suddenly the hallway is fifty degrees hotter. Dick looks down at you, and his breath hitches.
You stand in the hallway for what feels like eternity, just looking at each other. 
 
"Do you want to kiss me as badly as I want to kiss you right now?" Dick breaks the silence. 
 
"I thought you'd never ask."
His hand cups your cheek, and his eyes look so beautiful that even in the horrible lighting of your apartment building's hallway, they never leave yours. You suddenly realize how close you are standing—close enough to see your reflection in his gaze. You see anticipation, desire, mirrored in your own eyes, and something else. Something deeper, something that makes your heart flutter. It was a really intimate moment. 
 
But Dick just had to make a joke.
"Just making sure I'm not missing something, and you like me, right?"
You can't help but giggle, playfully pushing him away.
 
"Yeah, this means I like you."
Laughing softly, you place one more kiss on his cheek before going into your apartment.
 
Dick couldn't help but celebrate silently when your door was fully shut. When he got back to the manor, he had a noticeable smile on his face.
 
Damian looks at Jason with a raised eyebrow when they see him happily skipping by. 
“So do we think that girl is real? Orrr…”
 
“For his sake, yes.” 
Jason looks back at what he was doing, and the room is back in a comfortable silence. 
So i just wanted to say thank you sm for loving my Jason fic! I started on wattpad and stuff on wattpad takes forever to get noticed/ popular i look forward to writing more but i genuinely expected it to not take off how it did:)
Im working on a thank you piece with more dc characters called “how they talk about you”
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tentative title: hung hyung
Permanent 🔞 Ecstasy
MDNI
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gif ©️ me! believe it or not 😭
pairing: Intak (P1H) x male reader (dynamic up to individual interpretation tbh)
author’s notes: I am currently miles away from my comfort zone… I don’t think I've written MxM anything in around 10 years 👀😀. However, I made a vow to myself that I'd write a thing for my Intak-biased bestie whose birthday is this week. On top of that, last week we saw Piwon for the 3rd time, and this title is from Victoria Monét's "On My Mama" which Intak covered so deliciously. 🤭 There is an alluding to pup!Intak that’s been all the rage here recently – if you squint.
content warnings: profanity, semi-public blowjob (reader received)
Your friend has the midas touch, and you swear by that, as you enter into the dressing room backstage per said friend’s invitation. You expected to see all the members shuffling around to get ready for the show. However, you only see Intak rise up from his seat already dressed as the door opens, politely greeting you with that big smile of his.
You were not complaining in the slightest as THE Hwang Intak confirms your name that was given to him by word of mouth. “It’s so nice to meet you, Y/N! I heard you’ve been a fan since debut…” Intak says after you’ve greeted him back. His appreciative doe eyes stare right into your eager eyes as he thanks you for being so supportive since the beginning of his career.
“Of course, Intak,” you reply, “and you’ve always caught my attention… Your rapping is so good, and the way you move is incredible.” You don’t expect anything when your eyes subconsciously cruise up and down that toned body of his, but you find his eyes doing the same thing in that brief moment of silence after thanking you again.
You definitely don’t expect him to call you cute in such a shy manner before briefly peeking at his phone. As you continue staring at him, taking this moment in, you spy some naturally formed blush hitting his cheeks.
“You good, Intak?” you can’t help but ask him, that blush on his face getting a deeper pink, almost like the magenta on the UTOP1A concert logo.
“I’m… good,” he starts off, “but a bit nervous. Never had a one-on-one time with a fan before… especially a handsome one…”
His confession catches you off guard, the compliment at the end almost leaving you in disbelief. The moment you look down his body again, that disbelief intensifies as you notice a bulge forming in his pants.
Out of curiosity, you ask him, “Well… how did you expect this [interaction] to go?”
After pondering a moment, he begins to answer before trailing off in thought. “Not too sure… T-talking…” Honestly speaking, the moment Intak was informed about this encounter, and your friend showed him a picture they took of you, his mind started racing at a pace he was struggling to grasp. “Can we do something else though? We have time.”
You admired how cautious he was trying to be, eyes surveying his surroundings as he briskly walks over to the door, awaiting your confirmation before turning the lock on it. It was almost as if you both knew what happens after the locking of any door (in this type of setting) because it did not take long before his lips touched yours, and you granted him access to your mouth.
Moans escape the both of you as you trail your hands that were cupping his face down his seemingly chiseled body. Unlike Intak, you were a bit more unashamed with your actions, but tried to be just as cautious with your approach.
“Fuck,” Intak breathes out as you gently grab at his hardened bulge. His hand grips your thigh in response as you come to the realization that you’re just as hard. Intak’s soft lips graze down your neck, stopping at your chest before looking up at you (in part) for permission. You knowingly nod, admiring how he balances his shyness with his natural confidence so well.
Both of his hands rest on your thighs before congregating at the belt buckle atop of your shorts. Now, one would’ve solely unbuckled the object, but this showman here asks if you know about his solo stage.
“Of course!” you exclaim a bit breathlessly. “I… love that song… and what you did with it.” He smiles at the praise you give him for his hard work before he gradually pulls your belt out from your garments completely.
In a move similar to one from that performance, your belt is wrapped around his big hands before it’s discarded to the side. You both can’t help but smirk at the action before he guides you onto the vanity counter, leaning back on your hands as you anticipate Intak’s next moves.
He doesn’t even bother undoing the button of your shorts, he just pulls them down until they’re around your ankles. Mere seconds pass before your boxers receive that same treatment, your hard cock springing up, precum already dripping out of the tip.
He licks his lips, constantly looking up at you for permission. This time, you place a hand of yours on the nape of his neck before nodding at him to proceed. He sticks his tongue out, feeding himself some of your precum as an appetizer before taking you in his mouth.
You can’t help but curse out at him in pleasure, your legs planting themselves over his shoulders as he indulged in the feeling of your dick in his mouth. He moans around you in sheer delight before looking back up at your pleased expression. Your eyes were too closed to see how proud of himself he was becoming at the fact that he was clearly making you feel good.
While bobbing his head up and down your length, he caresses your thighs with varying degrees of roughness, feeling you shake ever-so-slightly beneath him. “Holy fuck, Intak,” you spit out, earning a quizzical moan from the boy, feeling the vibration rather deeply before you continue. “You’re really fucking good…”
Intak kept moaning as he kept sucking, one hand grabbing your nutsack with a bit more intensity than you would’ve been prepared for. What you may have missed was that Intak grabbed his still clothed hard cock at the same time, just barely thrusting into his hand in alternation with his bobbing head.
Both of you seemlessly transition from soft moans to low groans, your dick twitching in Intak’s mouth in a way that eggs him on even further. Once he hollows his throat to receive you to the hilt, you begin to lose it.
“I’m gonna cum, 'T-tak!” you manage to yell in a whispered state. Those same puppy eyes you were met with in the beginning approve of your next moves before they close tightly. He squeezes yours and his balls simultaneously before you both let out the most unabashed sounds, as you feel ropes of your warm semen enter Intak’s warm throat.
An echo of obscenities follows as you come down from your peak. Intak slowly backs away from you with a close-mouthed grunt, waiting until your heavy eyes reopen for him to open his mouth. You couldn’t help but moan at the pool of your release still resting in his mouth before he swallows.
For several reasons, Intak smiles in relief before slowly getting up. “I have to change my underwear,” he admits, chuckling so adorably. He begins to discard of everything on his lower half rather quickly, and that’s when you officially return to reality… To the practically vacant green room in the venue where you initially just came to enjoy a concert of one of your favorite artists.
Moments later, Intak returns clothed, almost running to you, whose pants… and belt… are back on your person (because you know timing is not of the essence in a situation like this). He seems to share a mutual interest in not wanting this moment to end anytime soon, as he manages to steal a couple more kisses from you before hearing the doorknob jiggle.
“Can you come back after the show?” Intak asks before unlocking the door. His gaze never leaves you as he awaits your response. You take it upon yourself to steadily get up from the counter to avoid any speculation before answering.
“If I can walk, sure!” you both laugh before the door opens and the remaining members of P1Harmony enter. You quickly greet them before scurrying out of the room to allow them some pre-show privacy.
This is already the best concert experience of your life, and it hadn’t even begun yet.
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the-kr8tor · 7 months
Note
I don’t know if you’re still taking asks for fluffy Friday but could you do a fic of the Hobie x reader twin AU, where the reader goes into labor and has the twins and their reactions during and after the twins are born!! Your recent one of them seeing the ultrasound was so cute!! But now I kinda wanna see the chaos and the cute that follows lol!! I feel like the doctors would low key be intimidated by Hobie cause he’d taking care of reader but also be staring them down 😂 to the point they’re ask him to leave but he doesn’t of course!! Sorry for the long ask!! Your last fic was just to AMAZING 🤩 !!
Ahhh another twin au request! Thank you for sending this one ❤️
Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader
Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, TW blood mention, Billie and Ramona AU, twin AU.
ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ
You were in an unimaginable pain, the kind you would never wish on anyone, your voice is hoarse from all the screaming and cussing out whoever was unfortunate enough to slightly annoy you. Too bad for Hobie, your annoyance and anger were mostly thrown at him. You had him in an iron grip, he's sure his hand would be aching for days to come. He's been a great help in alleviating the pain, patting your sweaty face dry, feeding you ice chips, whispering words of encouragement and the occasional glare at the doctor who arrived fashionably late to the party.
The epidural was your best friend that you've never thought you'd even befriend. You were sure that you wouldn't need it but after what must've been the umpteenth contraction, you were more than happy to accept its friendship.
After twenty hours of labor, all the literal blood, sweat and tears were all worth it. From the first cry of the older twin came a sudden elation, then the younger came only after five minutes apart from her sister with a loud energetic cry. You were in pain, now everything you're currently feeling is extreme happiness, and also fatigue you've never experienced before.
Following all the ‘good jobs’ from the hospital staff and numerous tearful kisses from Hobie, it's safe to say you're officially a parent to the most beautiful pair of twins. Your girls, the light of your life.
With both babies cleaned and you wiped from all the fluids, they're properly swaddled and checked by the doctor and nurses, you lay almost half asleep with your babies on your bare chest. Hands securing them atop their tiny torsos. They gurgle, making the cutest sound you've ever heard whilst Hobie takes hundreds of pictures with his digital camera. He still can't believe his eyes at the little family he now has.
“Hobie,” you say hoarsely, eyes watery from all the happy sobbing and tiredness. “I think you've got all their angles covered.”
He lifts the camera off his eye, greeting you with a genuine grin. “Alright, let me have a turn at them so you can sleep”
You scoot over, giving him space to sit right next to your hip. Hobie takes the oldest first in his arm with slight trepidation and oh so careful like he's handling the finest china.
“Hi, dad's got you” Hobie looks down at his daughter staring up at him with curious eyes, he doesn't miss the fact that she mirrors your own, almost a copy of yours. With a quick peck on top of her forehead, he moves to take the youngest and smallest from your arms. You help him by cradling the back of her head. “And I've got you too”
She answers with her lips wobbling, looking like she's about to cry her little heart out. Hobie bounces her lightly, making cooing sounds that he would always make when the twins were particularly rowdy in your belly. It works, she still frowns up at her dad but the tears don't fall.
“My brave girl, huh? Just like mum” he leans down slightly, juggling his girls whilst he lifts up the blanket to cover your bare chest. “You did amazingly, love” Hobie tells you for the tenth time just in case you forgot.
You hum in reply, heart tender at the sight in front of you. Hands cupping both his elbows, your way of helping him carry the bundles of joy.
“Did you at least make me look good in the photos?” You gesture to the digital camera on the side table. “I must look horrible in all of them after all that”
Hobie shakes his head, “you're as beautiful as the day I met you, and it's impossible for you to look horrible in pictures”
“Even after almost pooping while I was pushing them out?”
“Especially then” you laugh softly, winching at the soreness.
“You alright?” Hobie scooches closer to you, sharing his warmth, taking a quick glimpse at his girls already sleeping. He's not jealous at all.
“I'm okay, promise” you drop your hands from his elbows down to his thighs, too tired to lift them for a second more. “How are they?”
“Sleeping, you should be too” he observes you closely, your eyebrows slightly knitted, hands limp over his thighs.
“We haven't even decided names for them yet” you whisper.
“We've got plenty of time for that. Sleep, they'll be here when you wake up, yeah?”
“I don't think I want to, I just wanna stare at them forever” you fight an oncoming yawn.
“Sleep or I'll name them B one and B two” he jokes.
“You wouldn't” you do your best glare despite the sleep slowly enveloping you.
“You wanna bet? On second thought Bert and Ernie sounds better”
You surrender, “alright, alright, I'll sleep” your eyes threaten to close. “I really like the first one you suggested, it's Ramona, right?”
“Love” he says sternly with hints of fondness.
You giggle, “okay, love you. All three of you” giving them one last look over, you finally succumb to sleep.
“We love you too”
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kaminocasey · 4 months
Text
We Were Golden Part 5
Summary: You get to Cut and Suu's. Tension between you and Hunter starts to rise.
Pairing: Ex!Crosshair x Reader / (Eventual?) Hunter x Reader
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI; Smut in a dream (oral f receiving), angst
WC: 4.2K
A/N: Wow, it's been a hot minute since I've updated and I'm so sorry. That season 3 trailer really put my ass in gear, huh? Lol.
We Were Golden Masterlist │ TAGLIST FORM
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(pictures from Pinterest)
“Fuck, you’re so pretty…” Crosshair groans softly in your ear as he teases your clit with his slender fingers, with you pushed up against the fresher sink.
Letting out a soft whimper, you catch his lips in a passionate kiss, needing more of him. 
You and Crosshair have been together for three months and within those three months, there hadn’t been a day that the two of you hadn’t found yourselves like this in the fresher, locked away, enjoying each other. In the midst of war and battles, all you could do was cling to these little moments. 
He drops to his knees, latching his perfect lips to your cunt, determined to make you cum harder than the night before and the night before that and so on. 
“Cross-” You gasp, gripping his silver hair tightly, desperately.
“That’s it, Princess.” He praises you, slipping a long, slender finger into you. “Want you to cum on my face just like this.” 
You wake up with tears in your eyes, sitting up to wipe them with your sleeve. When you look up, you find Hunter sitting in his bunk across from yours, watching you. The look on his face is of concern but he’s clearly trying to give you space. 
“You… okay?” He asks you, but you shrug with a sniffle. “You wanna talk about it?”
You shake your head. “Not really.” 
What was there to say? 
You left Crosshair back on Kamino… you’re a terrible partner… how could you live with yourself? He would’ve never done that to you. Right?
“It’s not your fault, you know.” Hunter murmurs across to you, softly. 
He’s always been able to read your mind and usually, it’s endearing. But right now, you’re still slightly resentful of him, even though you really don’t want to be.
“No, I suppose not…” You stare at him.
But he reads your mind again. Your eyes still say It’s yours. Even though you don’t really believe that. 
“I know…” He nods. “I’m sorry…” 
“I know you are.” You sigh. “It’s just… hard.” 
He puts his feet down on the ground and leans forward to you, his forearms resting on his thighs.
“We’re going to get him back, okay? I just had to get the kid out of there.” Hunter murmurs, glancing down the hall at Omega, who’s asleep against Gonky. 
“I get it…” You sit up, your legs resting against his as you lean on your forearms as well. “I really do…”
The two of you are closer now, looking at each other. It’s almost comforting, after sleeping in the empty bunk, missing Crosshair’s presence. But then, you’re hit with the memory that he shot at his own brothers… tried to stop you from getting to safety. This new him… what if it’s permanent?
“I just…” You look down at your hands, clasping them together. “I miss him… and it’s weird… because that person we left behind… was not Crosshair. And I keep thinking… what if we can’t get him back to normal?” 
“We’ll figure it out if it comes to that.” He pats your hand and you place your other hand over his, nodding. “I think Crosshair was sort of right… Maybe I’ve been making bad calls-”
“Stop.” You squeeze his hand, catching his eye so that he looks at you. “You’re doing what you think is best for this squad. I told you a long time ago that I would follow you to the ends of the galaxy, Hunter. You’re a good leader. A great one. And there’s no one else I’d rather follow.”
You don’t miss the way he glances at your lips, but you choose to ignore it. 
“Would you really follow me to the ends of the galaxy?” He smiles, softly.
You roll your eyes, smirking, bumping your knee against his. “You know I would.” 
You hear Echo clearing his throat in the doorway and as you look up at him, you and Hunter separate as if you’ve been caught in some compromising position. 
“What is it?” Hunter asks, standing up. 
“Should I move the kid?” He looks down at Omega behind him. 
“I’ve got her.” Hunter steps over Wrecker’s leg and scoops her up, carrying her to his bunk and laying her down gently.
You ignore the tug in your chest at the gentle action and lean against the wall, crossing your arms.
Hunter steps back into the doorway, looking down at her, chuckling. “It’s a first, isn’t it?” 
“Inspecting every corner of the ship finally tired her out.” Echo smirks. 
“Yeah, she’s curious. I’ll give her that.” Hunter glances at you again.
“Hunter, she’s a child. What are we going to do with her?” Echo whispers with a sigh.
You’d all been through a lot over the last 24 hours, but you can’t help the attachment you’ve already formed with Omega. She deserves better than what she was given on Kamino. You could all give her that… But also, you know that this life that you and the Batch have is incredibly dangerous for a child. Obviously, she needs someone and she’s very clearly already attached to you guys as well. Especially Hunter. 
Hunter looks to you as if you could have all the answers but you just give him an encouraging smile, knowing he’ll make the right decision.
“We are coming up on Saleucami.” Tech announces.
Hunter joins Tech up in the cockpit, leaving you and Echo in the bunk room doorway. Echo gives you a strange look and you raise your eyebrows.
“What?” You ask.
He shrugs, glancing at Hunter, knowing Hunter can hear. You’re sure he’ll bring it up later when you land. 
“You wanna wake her up or you want me to?” Echo asks. 
“I’ve got her.” You start toward Omega but she’s already sitting up, rubbing her eyes.
“Are we there already?” She asks and you can’t help but smile.
“Yeah we are.” You reply.
She immediately bounces up, ready at the hatch, but Hunter pulls her back.
“Whenever we land, I go first, so I can make sure it’s safe, alright?” He asks her, softly.
She nods up at him, her eyes already filled with wonder, as Tech lands the Marauder. Hunter still hasn’t told you who’s on Saleucami that they know, so you’re a little anxious, even though you trust him fully. 
Hunter hits the hatch button and it comes down, the steps ascending with it. He walks down the hatch first with Echo behind him, and then Tech, Wrecker, and you. Omega is the last to exit the ship and when you turn around to tell her to follow close with you, you find her shielding her eyes from the sunlight, clearly having never been used to such light before on Kamino. When she gets used to the light, you watch the wonder fill her eyes once again and your chest tightens.
“Huh? What’s with her?” Wrecker asks, confused.
All of the guys turn to look and watch Omega inhale the fresh air and then step on dirt for the very first time. You just can’t help but smile as she kneels down to the ground to sift it through her fingers. 
“Woah.” Omega looks at it falling from her hand, with wonder. “What is this?”
“That would be dirt.” Tech speaks up and you grin. 
You’ve wondered a few times what it would be like to have kids. Though, you were never fully sure if you wanted them. But looking at Omega experiencing things for the first time, brings you to a realization that maybe one day… it wouldn’t be so bad. 
You and Crosshair had talked about your futures many times, but never about children. Would he ever want them? 
What about Hunter? 
Wow. Where did that come from? You shake your head slightly, trying to clear your head as you look around you. 
Omega lets out a soft gasp. “It’s amazing.”
When she stands up, she giggles and kicks it around a little bit, sending it up into the air around her. You and Hunter smile at each other before looking back down at her as she joins the group. 
You notice Hunter quickly glance up at the sky when some thunder rumbles. 
“Come on. Let’s get moving.” He nods toward some fields. 
As you start walking through the fields, you keep a safe eye on Omega as she finds wonder in every stalk and plant and insect. Her curiosity is a breath of fresh air, honestly. 
When you glance forward, you find Hunter’s eyes on you and you go warm in the face and look up at the sky. Things were so easy a couple days ago. Now everything is so turned around and different. You’re supposed to be able to handle the biggest changes. To adapt. To survive. 
You hear Echo call your name and tell you to watch out. But due to your mind being elsewhere, you don’t comprehend what he’s saying in time and step into an unfortunately deep mud puddle.
“Karking hell…” You groan as you find yourself waist deep in the puddle, which just turns out to actually be a hole in the ground.
Echo and Wrecker immediately burst into laughter. You start to throw an obscene gesture at them but then remember the kid and just settle for a glare instead. With a grumble, you reach for your pack and toss it to Hunter who sets it to the side and starts to reach for your hand. You ignore it and instead crawl your way out. Wrecker ignores your protests and helps you to stand. 
Tech scans you with his data pad. “Nothing seems to be hurt or bruised.”
“Just her ego.” Echo teases.
That time you do throw up your finger, walking ahead of the group, despite not being entirely sure where you’re going. You can practically feel Hunter’s gaze on you now. 
“Anyway, this friend of yours, what’s he doing all the way out here?” Echo asks.
“Hiding. That’s what deserters do.” Tech informs him.
A deserter? 
“Staying off the radar’s not our specialty, but he’s been doing it for years.” Hunter speaks up.
“And you trust a deserter?” Echo seems unsure.
He’s always been a loyal soldier to the Republic. Of course he’d be wary of a deserter. But before you can point out that you’re all technically deserters now, Tech speaks up.
“Why not? We’re all deserters now.” Tech says what’s on your mind and you nod in agreement. 
Hunter speeds up a little bit in front of you, putting up his fist for you all to stop, just as you’re about to point out the trip wire. He even stops Omega as she was about to keep walking. 
“What are we looking at?” Omega looks up at him.
“A booby trap.” Hunter informs her, but Wrecker steps over it.
“Single trip wire.” He chuckles. “That’s cute.”
Just as he says that, he triggers a second trap sending a circle of battle droids pointing guns at Wrecker flying up around him. You quickly pull Omega behind you, like it’s already a reflex to protect her.
“WOAH!” Wrecker lets out a yell and quickly pulls his blaster off his back and shoots down the droids. 
“Easy, Wrecker!” Hunter shouts, trying to get the giant to settle down just as you realize the droids aren’t active.
Thank the Maker. 
“W-was that me?” He asks, confused.
Before anyone can say anything else, you all hear a female voice and then turn to look toward it. 
“What do we have here? More clones who have lost their way.” A pink Twi’lek woman and a man with her are pointing a rifle at your group. 
“It’s been a while fellas.” The man puts his gun down.
You quickly realize the man is a clone and you look to Hunter for some sort of an explanation. How do they know these two people?
“You look like you could use a shower.” The woman smiles at you, eyeing the dried mud.
“Yeah, you got a hole in your field out that way.” You tell them, back behind you.
“Sorry about that, I’ve been meaning to fill it in.” The man tells you as you start walking toward their house. 
When they let you inside, the guys all gather around the table and Hunter starts to introduce you while Omega starts to check everything out. You don’t blame her one bit. This small house has to be intriguing to someone who’s spent their entire life in a Kaminoan facility. This place, which is full of life and warmth, is basically the complete opposite of Kamino. 
“I see a few new faces.” The woman says after getting everyone a drink.
Hunter introduces you, Echo, and Omega and then the two hosts as Cut and Suu. Omega waves up at Suu, politely, and Suu waves back. 
“Pleased to meet you.” She tells you all.
“Ma’am.” Echo nods, politely, and you can’t help but smile. 
When you met Echo back in the 501st, he was quite smooth with the ladies. Since his incident, he’s been more refined and not as outgoing. It was also really hard on him when he learned about his twin, Fives, who was basically joined at his hip. They did everything together. And that included going out and finding women together. They were something, that’s for sure.
Cut looks up suddenly. “Where’s Crosshair?”
The guys all look at you and you get a soft pang in your chest. You and Hunter make eye contact for the first time since before you fell in that mud hole and he sighs. 
“It’s complicated.” Hunter tells Cut, pulling his gaze away from you. 
“Sounds familiar.” Cut smiles, obviously noticing the look between you and Hunter. “Rex told us about the clone troopers turning against the Jedi.” 
Rex?
“You talked to Rex? When?” Echo asks, more eagerly.
Your brain goes back to the 501st. You could never imagine them killing Anakin Skywalker nor his former padawan Ahsoka Tano. Last you’d heard some of the 501st branched off to help her and a group of Mandalorians. You know that yours and Echo’s brains must be on the same wavelength because you both share a look of concern. 
Rex would never hurt either of them. Right?
“Well, he passed through yesterday.” Cut tells Echo.
“Where’d he go?” Echo asks.
“Didn’t ask.” Cut shrugs. “He was going on about some behavioral implant.”
Omega joins the table, next to Hunter. “He must mean the inhibitor chip.”
“The what?” Hunter asks her.
“Inhibitor chips. The Kaminoans implanted them in the clones to modify their behavior.” She tells him. 
You look at all of the guys, confused. Inhibitor chips. So that means if that’s what’s making Crosshair act this way, it can be removed… right?
“Tech, you said the regs were programmed but you never mentioned a chip.” Hunter looks over at Tech.
“How else did you think it worked?” Tech looks up from his data pad.
Suddenly, the front door bursts open and two small children come running in. 
“Mom! Dad!” They yell. “There’s a ship outside!” 
“Shaeeah, Jek!” Wrecker yells, excitedly. “Remember me?”
They both yell “Uncle Wrecker!” as Wrecker scoops them up in a hug. It warms your heart how good Wrecker is with kids. You suppose it’s probably got something to do with the fact that he can be like a big kid himself sometimes. But the fact that they’re calling him “uncle Wrecker” means that they all know these people well. 
The girl, Shaeeah, turns toward Omega. “Who are you?”
Omega suddenly gets shy, peering out from behind Hunter’s chair. 
“Omega.” She tells them. 
“We never see kids around here.” Shaeeah informs her, grabbing her hand. “Come with us.”
The kids start ushering Omega toward the door and Omega looks back at Hunter, as if for reassurance that it’s alright. Hunter gives her the softest smile and a nod to let her know that it’s okay. With that, they drag Omega out to go play and Suu turns toward you.
“I suppose you would like that shower now.” She smiles.
“That would be great.” You smile, gratefully, taking your pack with you.
She grabs you an extra pair of clothes that she said she’d had lying around for a long time and didn’t need anymore and you thank her again as she shows you to the fresher. 
You shred your muddy clothing and hop in the shower, immediately appreciating the warm water. You let it run over your body for a moment before starting to scrub. 
Once the grime is off of you and your hair is clean, you feel instantly better. You get out of the shower, wrapping the towel around you. You put your shampoo and body wash back into your pack kit and pull out your brush, wiping the fog on the mirror down with the towel and then hanging it over the bar on the wall. 
You turn around and look in the mirror, seeing yourself for the first time since throwing up in the fresher back in the barracks on Kamino. You feel like you look different. Maybe it's because you aren’t necessarily who you were the other day anymore. So much has happened in such a small time frame, that would surely change anyone. 
You put the clothes that Suu gave you on, and notice it feels a bit snug. She’s obviously a bit smaller than you. Whatever. If you get uncomfortable, you’ll just borrow from one of the guys. 
As you walk out of the fresher, you see Hunter and Cut by the door. Hunter is in civilian clothing that Cut must have given him. You both just stand there and stare at each other because wow, he looks good with his arms showing. It’s not a sight that many get to see all that often due to the black bodysuits that GAR keep the clones in underneath their armor, and also because of said armor. 
Hunter’s eyes sweep down your body, taking in your form and he has to physically tear his eyes away from you by looking at Cut, who’s of course giving him a knowing look.
“We’re uh… heading into town. To book Cut, Suu, and the kids a shuttle offworld.” He tells you.
You nod. “Alright. Be safe.” 
He smiles, softly. “We will.” 
When they leave, you notice Suu’s eyes on you.
“Uh hi.” You clear your throat, sticking your pack with the rest of the Batch’s. 
“Are you two-?” She smirks as she takes your clothes and throws them in a washer tub.
“Ha. No, absolutely not.” You wave her off and go sit on the couch. 
She joins you on the couch, resting her arm on the back of it, grinning at you. “But you want to.” 
You shake your head, glancing over at the guys who aren’t even paying attention to you. Echo’s keeping an eye on Omega in the doorway. Tech’s nose is buried in his data pad and Wrecker is passed out in the recliner, mouth gaping open and snoring. 
“No. It’s not like that.” You shake your head. “I’m with or… was with… Crosshair.” 
“Oh…” She murmurs. “I apologize. I just saw the way that you two…”
You shrug your shoulders. “Hunter’s my best friend. We look out for each other.” 
“And what happened to Crosshair?” She asks.
That pang in your chest is starting to become familiar and you really don’t care much for it. You realize though that she’s probably asking because she knows him and is genuinely curious. 
“He chose this new… “Empire”. Or I suppose the inhibitor chip did…” You murmur, looking at the rug on the floor. 
“And you still love him.”
“Of course.” 
There’s no question. He may have broken up with you, but you’re still always going to love him. 
“But you have feelings for Hunter.”
It’s not a question that she’s asking. She’s telling you she sees right through your shit. But she’s not being rude about it. You don’t know what to say because what you and Hunter have is something too complicated, yet also easy. 
Complicated for others, easy to the two of you.
You’re sitting in the barracks by the window, watching the ocean rage on angrily, your knees drawn up and your chin resting on them. As always, you’ve never once seen a calm Kaminoan Sea.
You hear the doors slide open and shut and you assume it’s Crosshair come to apologize about your fight you had. Which have been becoming more frequent. And desperate to follow Hunter’s rules about it not affecting the group, you went out for some alone time on the Marauder and Crosshair got offended. 
Which is not only stupid, but also hypocritical because the man loves his alone time, which you’d pointed out and it only escalated things, making him storm out of the Marauder. 
“Hey.” Hunter’s voice is suddenly next to you as he sits in the window with you, but leaning his back on the window.
“Hey.” You look at him.
“Crosshair mentioned you’d had an… argument?” He raises an eyebrow.
You shrug.
“Do you want to talk about it?” He offers.
“What, are you trying to be my therapist?” You quip. 
He chuckles. “Just a friend.”
And that’s what Hunter became. Your best friend. 
After a while, Hunter and Cut finally return and Echo nods for Hunter to follow him outside. Which seems strange to you. Normally Echo isn’t usually shy about saying what’s on his mind in front of people. 
Unfortunately, your curiosity quickly gets the best of you and you decide to follow them once you think they’re far enough away. You watch as they head into the barn and quietly make your way that way so you can at least hear what they’re talking about. Being out of the know doesn’t sit well with you, that’s how you justify it being alright that you’re about to eavesdrop.
“I heard her talking to Suu… even Suu could practically see right through the two of you.” Echo tells Hunter as you lean up against the hale bay by the barn doors.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Look… I’m not saying don’t pursue her… But… give her time to get over Crosshair. We can’t afford any fuck ups right now. If you’re both not focusing-”
Hunter sighs and you can already tell he’s rubbing his hands down his face in exasperation. “I am giving her time, Echo. I’m giving her space. Hell, I’d even give her the entire galaxy if she asked for it. Since when are you so nosy?”
Your chest tightens at Hunter’s serious tone when he says that last part. 
“Since I heard the hurt in her voice, and saw it in her eyes when they brought up Crosshair.” 
Hunter’s apparently not the only one who can read you like a book. But Echo’s right. You need time. It’s not like you can just move on from Crosshair in a day. You spent every single day together for a year.  
“You think I didn’t?” Hunter snips.
Deciding you can’t handle anymore talk about Crosshair, you start to head back to the house but end up tripping over a smaller hale bay, cursing automatically as you fall to the ground. You try to yank yourself up quickly, but are met with two confused clones, staring down at you.
“Uh, hey. Looking for Omega.” You cough. 
Echo snorts and holds out his hand to help you up. “Right.”
You take his hand and Hunter rights you, holding a hand on your shoulder.
“You two should talk.” Echo lets go of your hand and shoots Hunter a look and walks off.
Hunter guides you down to the hay bale, sitting on it next to you, watching Omega as she plays with Shaeeah and Jek. You sit like that in comfortable silence for a little bit. And for a moment, it feels normal again.
“Echo’s right. We should talk.” Hunter murmurs.
“I hate when he’s right.” You sigh. 
He lets out a chuckle and then looks at you. His eyes briefly fall to your lips before settling on your eyes. 
After a moment, he gets back up and starts to pace a little bit. It’s clear that he’s anxious about whatever conversation has to be had between the two of you. He finally stops to look down at you and then looks at the barn and goes into it, knowing you’ll follow him. Because that’s what you and Hunter do, apparently. 
You could ask for the galaxy and he would give it to you, and you would follow him to the ends of it. 
What does that mean?
He turns to look at you, leaning forward on the table. You stand across from him, crossing your arms. 
“Just talk to me, Hunter.” You murmur, softly. “Please…” 
He opens his mouth to speak but Tech’s voice falls over Hunter’s comm requesting both of your presences back at the house. Hunter lets out an annoyed grunt.
“On our way.” Hunter pulls the comm up and talks into it, never breaking eye contact with you.
Whatever the conversation was, it’ll have to be put on hold for now. Which, judging from the way that Hunter’s looking at you, is probably for the best.
TAGS: @rebel-finn @rexandechosandwich @madameminor @dumfanting @corona-one @tecker @ladykatakuri @brynhildrmimi @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @zoeykallus @maulslittlemeowmeow @littlemousedroid @arctrooper69 @rexxdjarin @padawancat97 @hated-by-me @sleepingsun501 @idledreams @redheadgirl @themcuwriter @ashotofspotchka @sunshinesdaydream @crosshairsimp73 @ariadnes-red-thread @rosmariner @heyitsaloy @starstofillmydream @high-ct5555 @echos-girlfriend @sleepywych @nekotaetae @justanothersadperson93 @aconstructofamind @book-of-baba-fett @chopper-base @palliateclaw @501st-rexster @dead-poolz @nahoney22 @where-is-my-mind-tho @jediknightjana @erishimoon @witching3 @queen-of-many-fandoms @wizardofrozz  @burningfieldof-clover @rebelsriley 
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bhaalsbabe · 6 months
Text
Not all gifts are appreciated
Pairing: pre-tadpole gn!Durge x Enver Gortash
Word count: ~700
Summary/warnings: my thoughts on how the rule of "not meddling with each other's business" came to be; MDNI, mentions of killing, brief gore description, suggestive at the end, Durge origin spoilers
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Perfect, you thought to yourself as you arranged a corpse in front of Gortash's desk. You made it sit upright, you made sure it could be seen right from the door that it's missing the mandible. The rest of the body was covered in cuts of various sizes from when you toyed with it, the dried blood proof that they were done when the old man still breathed. You were proud of your handiwork as per usual and you couldn't wait for Gortash to see it too. You paced around the small office, unable to hold back your excitement. When your sharp senses heard approaching footsteps, you could discern from the walking pattern that it's the recipient of your gift. You stopped pacing, pulling yourself together to look more like the Chosen of Bhaal people usually got to see. With bated breath, you waited for the door to open.
"What's th-" Gortash stopped, looking at the corpse in shock, then at the smiling you.
"I've brought you a gift!" You exclaimed, still smiling. "You said he was too much of a hassle, and how you wished he would just stop babbling and die already. Well - he won't be a problem now. See-" You nudged the exposed mouth with your foot, the head rolling to the side as you disturbed the precarious balance. "He won't be able to speak anymore, ever! Aren't you happy?" You beamed at him, like a child showing a picture they've drawn to their parent.
Gortash's perfect facade disappeared as his face contorted in anger. "Happy? You fucking IDIOT! I almost had him sign the deal. Do you have any idea how long it took me to convince old Irlentree to make me his main supplier?!" He raised his voice, still holding a bit of control over his emotions even if he was beyond pissed at the moment. "I had a feeling you might have been the one behind his disappearance but I thought - hoped - you were smarter than that." He rubbed his face in frustration. "And to bring his corpse to MY office too, have you finally lost your mind? This could easily incriminate me and ruin my entire life's work!" He walked towards you menacingly, staring daggers at your face.
You just shrugged it off, however. "Oh stop being so dramatic. I can move lifeless bodies between various locations without being seen." You wrapped your arm around his burly shoulders, bringing him closer to you. "Just tell me a name and I'll make sure they're the one getting framed for this murder. An assassination on the head of a noble house is nothing new, you wouldn't believe how often we get contracts like that. So, calm down, Enver, hm?" You kissed his lips softly, making him focus on you and your body instead of the anger your actions caused him. He tried to push you away, weakly and half-heartedly, before relenting and accepting your advances. You smiled, pulling away after a minute or two of kissing. You patted his head affectionately. "There you go~"
"Let's set up a new rule though. If we are to work together, we won't meddle in each other's businesses anymore. You'll leave the politics to me while I'll leave the cult's dealings to you." You just nodded, clearly not really listening or taking his words to heart, instead you leaned in to kiss him again but he stopped you, pressing his fingers to your lips. "I'm serious. No more murders of my potential business partners, no matter how helpful you think you're being. If I need such service, you're the first one I'll go to and then we'll talk. Understood?" He used his commanding voice at you and you had to control yourself to not grin. He was just so adorable, how he thought he had power over you when you could easily slit his throat before he could even realise what's happening. And yet you decided to cooperate. He pulled his hand away to let you speak.
"I understand." You agreed, your hand coming to play with his messy black hair. "Now let's figure out what to do with this old geezer and then you can reward me for my hard work, hm~?"
He snorted and chucked, shaking his head in disbelief. He let his hands brush over your hips, squeezing them teasingly, before letting you go. "Fine. I already have a few ideas for both."
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meanbossart · 3 months
Text
A long over-due ask compilation (Art & Music)
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It's vaguely based on a short story from the book "The Consumer" by Michael Gira, specifically "The Boss". I think it came up in conversation with a friend or something when I was picking a new username, so that's how we arrived at it - this was almost a decade ago so, my memory on it is a little hazy!
{MORE UNDER THE CUT]
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HAHA thank you so much!!! Glad you enjoy what I do 😎🍻
I BELIEVE this little guide I put together over here might be helpful to you, also! I touched on pretty much everything you brought up.
As for reference material when it comes to facial expressions, I have a mirror next to my desk which I glance at often and make weird faces at LOL and for consistency, it's really a matter of learning to dissect and remember facial structure. It's just something you end up developing an eye for when you've done it for long enough! Naturally, if we're talking about drawing existing characters, it's always helpful to just look at some pictures of their mugs and take a minute to define what features about them make their faces recognizable - I touch on this at the link above as well!
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I do plan on making a "drowstarion" (love that, by the way LOL) playlist eventually, life's just been kicking my ass and I hardly have the time 😭and when I do, I just wanna draw.
Otherwise I don't have any other playlists floating around at the moment, BUT the one my boyfriend made for his Vellioth comic can be found here, and it might scratch a similar itch!
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Thank you! I believe this was in reference to this post. Something like that takes me about... An hour??? If we're talking just the colors, at least. Though that's a really rough estimate because I take a lot of breaks, so my sense of time when I work ends up pretty skewed. Even if the application of the colors themselves took less than 20 minutes I probably spent 2 hours just staring at it LOL.
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My friend, I have no idea. I'm in a constant battle between "I want to draw more realistically" and "I want to simplify my art so I can draw more/faster". What you see is the result of that ongoing brain-tug-of-war.
Also, just the way I assume everyone else develops theirs - they see stuff they like and emulate it until their art is Frankensteinish enough to be it's own unique thing!
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I'm far from a Type O Negative buff, BUT I'm happy to share some of my favorites with you! They're quite scattered across a couple of their albums so I'm not sure I have a favorite, but I would say October Rust is a good starting point.
In no particular order, these are my most listened tracks of theirs: -Love You to Death -Black N.01 -Haunted -She Burned Me Down -Can't Lose You -I Don't Wanna Be Me -Be My Druidess -September Sun -Tripping A Blind Man
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Alas, I was one of those people who was already drawing in kindergarten 😅 though I would say I only started taking it seriously when I was around 15-16 years old. As someone who has tried their hand at several other hobbies since reaching adulthood, I get what you're saying that it can kinda feel like... You missed the wagon? I've felt that way about all kind of things lol
That said, I've seen adults managing to develop their art skills extremely fast and effectively before. Understanding where and how you need to improve, and how to follow lessons/guides best is something that is vastly improved by maturity and knowing how to best hone your time, attention, and resources - and those are skills we completely lack as children. So, I sincerely believe that as long as you commit yourself, you can definitely get to a point that you're happy with in a couple of years if not less.
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JUST DO IT BUDDY we are all just people looking through a screen and you won't ever see, talk, or meet 99% of the folks who ever clap eyes on what you post. Whenever you start getting nervous about sharing something, take a minute to ask yourself why you're nervous, and if none of the reasons have any genuine substance besides being afraid of what people "might think", just go ahead and post it. You're no mind-reader after all, and if you are, I doubt you can hear what a guy from Argentina or wherever is thinking about the art you made.
Point is, nobody online can touch you 🤷and if someone doesn't like what you do, they can simply choose to not interact with it, and if they do you can block and move on. There are zero reasons for you to feel "bad" about putting up a doodle when our experiences on the web are so easily curated nowadays.
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sariahsue · 5 months
Text
Wherefore Art Thou (My)stery Lady
When a failed attempt to let Chat Noir down easy ends with Ladybug learning his name, she does what any lovesick teenager would do: teases him mercilessly. Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3
Chapter Four
“She really hasn't given you any more hints?” Nino asked. “It's been five days!”
Adrien loved group projects. It meant that there was a chance that he could visit with friends outside of school hours. And given how lucky he had been over the past few days, it didn't even surprise him when Ms. Bustier partnered him with Nino on their history project. 
They sat on his floor together, taking a much-deserved break. Adrien was rereading his texts from Ladybug again, looking for any clues he might have missed. 
Nino was right. It had been five days. Five long days of torture. He hadn’t seen her since their rendezvous on top of Montparnasse Tower, but she had seen him. She’d sent three pictures she’d taken of him when he wasn’t looking. He had his back turned in each one, and he’d been in large crowds as he walked in the hallway in between classes or at the end of the day. Times where there were so many people around that he couldn’t narrow down who she could be, which was deliberate on her part, he was certain. 
They were so close, and he still couldn’t find her.
His phone buzzed with an incoming message.
My Lady – I accidentally called you Kitten in front of my best friend this morning. So embarrassing!  My Lady – I told her I chose that nickname because of all the stupid cat emojis you send me. Adrien – Is that permission to keep sending them to you? My Lady – No.  Adrien – Too bad. Adrien –  😻😽😸
Nino shuffled over, and Adrien scanned the message quickly. Nothing that would arouse suspicion if read. 
“‘My Lady’?” Nino said, reading the contact name at the top. “Getting a little possessive already, huh?”
“No!” Adrien flipped his phone over to hide the messages. “Uh, ‘My’... is short... for ‘mystery.’ She's a mystery lady, but that was too long to fit. So, My Lady.”
“I don't believe you at all, dude, but I'll give you full points for that excuse.” Nino returned to his spot on the floor and started scrolling through his own phone, which he kept hidden from Adrien's view. “You like her already, huh?”
“Yeah,” Adrien said. He and Nino hadn't talked much about it, aside from that first day. Adrien had been too busy trying to piece together who Ladybug was, and he was getting frustrated. All he'd done so far was eliminate everyone in the school. Realizing he missed her on his first pass, he tried again. He looked at the yearbook, made a list of everything he knew about her, spent almost all his time in class puzzling over her, and he'd still come up empty. 
“You should ask her out,” Nino said. “I've known her for a long time, and I think you two would be good for each other.”
Adrien nodded. He'd always thought so. “I asked already.”
“You did? Why didn't you tell me?”
“She said yes, assuming I could figure out who I'm asking!” Adrien flipped onto his back and stared at the high ceiling above him. “You’re not allowed to give me any hints, but what is she like?”
“How's that not a hint?”
“Because I already know what she's like.” He raised the phone, implying that he’d gotten to know her through texting and not midnight rooftop strolls. “I just want a different perspective. Maybe I just need the same information from a new angle.”
“If she gets mad at me, I'm blaming you.”
“But she wants to go out with me, right? So you're really trying to help her.”
“How about this,” Nino said. “I won't tell her if you won't.”
“Deal.”
Nino had been typing away on his screen, cap hiding his eyes, through the whole conversation and finally lifted his head. 
Adrien listened intently as Nino started listing Ladybug's familiar traits.
“She's very creative and sweet, but still tough when she wants to be.” 
Adrien knew both of those well from fighting alongside her. She could come up with the most ridiculous plans and execute them flawlessly. She'd stare down a monster and then turn around and help someone who'd been trying to kill her moments before. 
“She's good at video games.” Another one that he knew, but had forgotten. He'd have to write that down on the list.
“And she can be pretty shy and nervous sometimes. It took her forever to tell you that she likes you.” 
Adrien hadn't thought about it like that. She'd admitted to being anxious and awkwardly obvious about her crush (not that he'd been able to figure out that clue either), but he hadn't mentally added that trait to his image of her. She always seemed so confident and self-assured, and he loved that about her. He'd only ever seen her truly nervous on that first day. 
“That's all you're getting.”
“None of it was really new information,” he said. “But thanks for reminding me of some things.”
“Sure, dude.”
Adrien's phone alerted him to another message. 
My Lady – So... Mystery Lady, huh?
Adrien turned to Nino. “You texted her about that? Since when have you had her number?” 
“Since the day she got her phone.”
My Lady – That was smooth. Plus, now you can use my favorite nickname! Adrien – I could just break into Nino's phone and check his messages, you know. My Lady – That would be cheating! Don't you dare!
“Am I going to do this project by myself?” Nino asked. “Or should I call your girlfriend and ask if I can borrow some of your attention?” 
“Sorry, sorry.” And he was, until the next text from her came in. Nino sighed but didn’t complain as Adrien reflexively reached for his phone.  
My Lady – Kitten, my homework is boring, and I don't want to do it. Talk to me.  Adrien – What do you want me to say? My Lady – I don't know. Anything. Adrien – Okay... 
He searched the room for inspiration but found none. The first thing that caught his attention on his phone was his name for her.
Adrien – What did you name my contact? My Lady – Uh...  My Lady – …  My Lady – Nothing...  Adrien – Nothing as in just a blank space, or nothing as in something that you don't want to say? My Lady – NOTHING Adrien – Uh huh. So what is it? Adrien – Hm? Adrien – Aren't you going to tell me? My Lady – No.  Adrien – Why not? My Lady – I'm going to delete your number if you don't stop asking! Adrien – That won't do anything. I'll just text you again, and then you'll have it again. My Lady – Please unsubscribe me from your mailing list.  Adrien – Is it just a string of hearts or something? My Lady – The number you are trying to reach has been disconnected. Adrien – Or maybe it's “Hot Stuff”? My Lady – New phone. Who dis? Adrien – Wow. It must be reeealllly embarrassing if you don't want to tell me this badly.  My Lady – FINE! My Lady – When I found out who you were, I changed your contact to “Future Husband.” OKAY?!?!?!
If Plagg could see his face right now, Adrien was sure the kwami would gag. He was probably smiling like an idiot. She really thought that it was a possibility?
“You good, dude?”
Adrien only nodded because how was he supposed to explain? Ladybug - LADYBUG - really had decided that she wanted to marry him?!
She was also still waiting for his response. Probably anxiously. Should he gush about how much he loved her or continue with his teasing?
Teasing won out.
Adrien – Oh, Bugaboo, you didn't even buy me a ring yet! My Lady – SHUT UP I'M GOING TO CHANGE IT Adrien – Please don't. Adrien – My ring size is 29, in case you were wondering.  My Lady – That's not even a real size. Adrien – Oh.  Adrien – Father doesn't sell jewelry, so I don't know anything about it. Haha. My Lady – Average sizes are usually between 5 and like 10 or 11. My Lady – In case you were wondering... My Lady – Mine’s 4 and a half.
---
Adrien walked into school the next morning (on time, thankfully! The photographer had been 10 minutes late to the shoot and traffic was horrible all morning) ready to watch the front door for any stragglers who showed up late. He still didn't have any ideas about who Ladybug could be, and he was starting to think he was missing the obvious. So he stood in the middle of the courtyard and scanned faces as they trickled in, but no one in particular stood out to him. No girl was the same height, looked just right, sounded like her, or moved the same way. Over several minutes, the courtyard started filling up. Starting from the doors, he slowly rotated until he’d done a full circle, double checking if someone had slipped past him. Nino was the only one in the crowd who caught his attention.
“Hey, bro!” Nino said, waving as he approached. “You look distracted, which means you haven't figured it out yet.”
“No! And she still won't give me another hint!”
“That's because you have enough to figure it out with, man. You're trying too hard.” He swung an arm over Adrien's shoulders. “Just look at your contact list and find the hole. Should be obvious, my dude.” It was easy for Nino to give advice. He had found out who she was the easy way ages ago.
But Ladybug kept telling him that, too. Plagg, when he didn't avoid the subject entirely, said much the same thing. 
Adrien reached for his phone, but his scroll through his contact list was interrupted by an incoming text image. 
There he and Nino were, in the middle of the crowded courtyard, looking at his phone. Adrien's head snapped up. The photographer had been directly in front of him on the upper level, but that area was now deserted. 
“Come on,” Adrien said. “Maybe we can catch her.” 
He took the stairs two at a time while Nino hollered for him to slow down. Adrien had no plan to do anything of the sort. His Lady had been there just a few seconds ago. She couldn't have gotten far. 
Reaching the top step, he took another look around. There were a few corners that she could be hiding behind, or she could have ducked into a classroom. He debated for only a second. What would Ladybug do if she was trying to trip him up? Probably go where the most people were so she could hide in plain sight. He poked his head into the nearest classroom. A few people waved to him, but no one he knew well enough to have traded phone numbers with. 
He tried a few more, then doubled back and checked the alcoves. There were a lot of people that he knew, and because he was in such a hurry, all of them seemed to want to say hello to him. He stayed only long enough each time to give a very hurried explanation that he was looking for someone in order to excuse himself before running off again. 
“Hey!” Nino said, finally catching up with him. “Will you slow down?”
“Did you see her anywhere? Please tell me that much. Did I overlook her again?”
“I haven't seen her,” Nino said, taking off his hat and fanning himself with it. “What did you eat for breakfast, man? Rocket fuel? I haven't seen you run like that since the last akuma. Or…” Nino put his hat back on and smiled, “do you really just want to find her that bad?”
Two minutes after running out of the courtyard, Adrien found himself up at the top of the stairs overlooking it. He walked to the railing, where Ladybug had been standing when she took her picture of him. She'd been so close, and she'd slipped through his fingers again. He needed to figure her identity out soon, or she’d be the death of him (in the best way possible). 
The courtyard was emptier than it had been a few minutes prior. The flow of students through the front doors had been reduced to a trickle. Only a few stragglers remained at the bottom of the stairs, waiting to go to class until the very last second.
“I think the bell's about to ring,” Nino said, tapping him on the shoulder. “We should go.”
Adrien sighed. Another attempt to find her had ended in failure. 
They trudged back down the stairs to their first class. A few of their friends were ahead of them in the hallway, including Alya and Marinette, who were whispering together. He heard Alya congratulating Marinette about something. He heard only a few words, “likes you a lot!” and “interested.” What were they talking about? He picked up his pace, hoping to get close enough to catch more of the conversation, but Nino called out to them over the crowd to get their attention before he reached them.
Alya cut off her next sentence abruptly and spun around, eyes going to Adrien first before landing on Nino.
“Good morning!” Marinette said, eyes shining. Was he imagining it, or was her gaze lingering on him longer than it usually did? “What have you two been up to this morning? Looking for that mystery lady of yours again?”
“You know about that?” Adrien groaned. “How many people know?” 
A few people shoved past him to get to their classrooms. He hadn't realized they were blocking the traffic.
“Nino told me about it,” Marinette said, starting to walk forward again. “He said you were having some trouble figuring out who she was. Do you want some help?” Behind her back, Nino and Alya exchanged deadpan looks.
“Yeah,” he said. “That would be great. I've tried everything I can think of.” 
Marinette thought about it for a few seconds, tapping her finger to her lips in a slow, exaggerated movement. He glanced down at the finger briefly before turning his attention back to her eyes. 
“Have you tried tricking her into giving you more information? Like ask her about something that happens at school today that only some people know about. Then, if she sees it, you have fewer people to guess from. Maybe you could cat-ch her that way?” She put more emphasis on the first half of the word “catch,” but he wasn't sure why. “What about the assembly today?”
“That's a great idea, Marinette! Thanks!” That was a fantastic idea. The assembly was only for their grade, and if she saw it too, that would really narrow down the pool of candidates. And even if she didn’t, he could exclude an entire grade from his search. He would have to word his questions just right, so she wouldn’t think he was asking for another hint. If she knew he was looking for a way around the rules of her challenge, she might not answer. Or worse, be unhelpful on purpose.
“You're welcome,” she said. “I really hope you find her soon.”
Adrien blinked, surprised to find himself and Marinette alone in the hallway in front of their first period class. His mind was still thinking up exactly how he would pose his questions to seem the most innocent. 
“Really, Marinette. Thank you. I really want to find her.” 
She beamed at him as the bell rang, and they both ran for the classroom door. 
With Marinette’s help, and a little bit of his Lady’s luck, he might know was behind the mask by the end of the day. And he couldn’t wait.
Chapter Five
---
Tag list: @eclipsesmoonshine14, @alittlewolf2, @mlbigbang
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cheynovak · 15 days
Text
A Night to Remember  
Part 6 : Ready, Set... Go
Jensen Ackles x F/Reader Y/N       
Warnings: On screen chemistry, sexual tension, unfaithful, ...      
Side note: English isn’t my first language 
It's a slower chapter.
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--  
Will the world believe that Jensen and Y/N were acting, will the world believe the picture was a publicity stunt? But more importantly, will they?     
Or is their tension towards each other, their ‘harmless’ flirting going to burst into flames? How much longer will they be able to keep their professional distance?   
-- 
Jensen woke up to the harsh Austin sunshine streaming through the blinds, his head pounding and his mouth dry as a desert. He groaned, rubbing his temples as the events of last night slowly began to filter through the fog of his hangover.
He reached for his phone, squinting at the screen. His heart sank as he saw the string of messages he had sent to Y/N. 
"Oh, God," he muttered, sitting up quickly and then immediately regretting it as a wave of dizziness hit him. He steadied himself, took a deep breath, and opened the messages. 
There they were, in all their drunken glory. Confessions of love, longing, and a heart laid bare. He cringed as he read through them, each word a reminder of the feelings he'd been trying to suppress for months. 
After her confession that she missed him he had send the last message. 
J: Y/N, I don't know what it is about you, but I can't stop thinking about you. I know it's wrong, but I can't help how I feel. 
He could almost hear his slurred speech in the texts, and he closed his eyes, trying to figure out what to do next. He immediately thought of Danneel, he never intended to hurt her. But Y/N... there was something about her that he can’t seem to ignore.  
His phone buzzed in his hand, startling him. It was a message from Y/N. 
Y/N: Hey, are you okay?
Y/N: You seemed pretty upset last night?  
Jensen's heart raced as he typed out a reply. 
J: Yeah, I'm okay. 
He stared at the screen, waiting for the three dots that indicated she was typing. Instead, his phone buzzed with an incoming call. He glanced at the caller ID and saw Y/N's name. His heart skipped a beat. 
With a deep breath, he swiped to answer. "Hello?" 
"Jensen?" her voice came through the line, soft and concerned. Hearing her voice after nearly a year did something to him. It was like a shock to his system, stirring emotions he'd tried so hard to bury. 
"Y/N," he breathed, leaning back against the pillows. "I'm sorry about last night. I shouldn't have..." 
"Are you really okay?" she interrupted, her voice cutting through his apology. "You don't sound okay." 
He closed his eyes, the sound of her voice both comforting and painful. "I'm... I don't know. I feel like I've messed everything up."
There was a pause on the other end. "Jensen, I was worried. I could tell something was off, even through the texts. Talk to me." 
He hesitated, the words caught in his throat. But the concern in her voice, the genuine care, broke down his defences. "It's been hard, Y/N. Things with Danneel are... complicated. And then there's you.” 
"Me?" she echoed, her tone a mix of confusion and curiosity. "Yeah, you. Last night, I said things I shouldn't have, but they were true. I can't stop thinking about you." 
Silence stretched between them, heavy and charged. Finally, she spoke. "Jensen, you can't. You're married. You can't just pretend that doesn't matter." 
"I know, I’ve been telling myself I made the right choice" he said, his voice pained. "But seeing your pictures, hearing your voice right now... it makes me wonder if I did... make the right choice." 
"Jensen," she sighed, her voice tinged with sadness. He swallowed hard, trying to keep his emotions in check. "Can we meet? I think we need to talk about this in person." 
Y/N was quiet for a second, he could hear her think. "Jensen, I don't know," Y/N said finally, her voice hesitant. "I'm not sure it's a good idea.” 
"Please, Y/N," Jensen pleaded, desperation creeping into his voice. "I know I've made a mess of things, but we need to talk about this face-to-face." "Jensen," she sighed, her tone filled with doubt. "I don't want to get hurt. And I don't want to hurt anyone else." 
"I understand," he replied quickly. "I do. But I can't leave things like this. Please, just give me a chance to explain myself properly. We owe it to each other to talk this through, don’t we?" 
Another pause. Jensen could almost hear her weighing her options. “I mean,” he continued, “You said in the ride to the airport you were ok, but you lied so, we need to be honest... don’t we?” He closed his eyes, willing her to say yes. 
"Alright," she said finally, her voice soft but resolute. "But this is just a conversation. Nothing more, no funny business.”  
"I promise," he said, relief flooding through him. "Where do we meet?”
"I'm in Dallas, filming a project," Y/N replied. "Can you come to the set?" 
Jensen hesitated, his mind racing. There would be a lot of people on set, people who could see them together and start asking questions. The last thing he wanted was to create more complications or rumors.
But the urgency in her voice, the need for this conversation to happen face-to-face, outweighed his concerns. "Jensen?" she prompted gently. "Can you come?" 
He took a deep breath, then nodded even though she couldn't see him. "Yeah. When should I be there?" 
"How soon can you get here?" she asked.  "I can leave now," he said, checking the time. "I'll be there in a couple of hours." 
"Okay," she said, relief evident in her voice. "I'll text you the address."
"Thank you, Y/N. I'll see you soon." 
After they hung up, Jensen sat for a moment, gathering his thoughts. He knew this wasn't going to be easy, but it was necessary. He needed to see her, to explain everything, and to figure out what they were going to do next. 
The drive to Dallas was filled with anticipation and nerves. As he approached the set, he felt a mixture of dread and excitement. He parked his car and followed the directions Y/N had texted him, trying to stay inconspicuous. 
He spotted her near one of the trailers, looking around as if searching for him. When their eyes met, he felt a jolt of electricity. She smiled, a tentative but genuine smile that made his heart ache. 
"Hi stranger," she greeted him softly as he approached. She glanced around, then motioned for him to follow her.  
They walked briskly to her trailer, and she opened the door, stepping inside and holding it open for him. Jensen followed her in, shutting the door behind him. The trailer was small but cozy, filled with the trappings of a temporary home away from home. 
"How are you doing?" he asked, genuinely concerned. "Since when have you been back on set? I thought you had a break in filming." 
She sighed, sitting down on the small couch and motioning for him to take a seat next to her. "I'm doing okay, I guess. I got a call from my agent, couldn’t say no.” He nodded, sitting down beside her. "It must be exiting, being back.”  
"It is," she admitted, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, nervous not knowing how to act.  
Jensen too felt a knot of nerves tighten in his stomach as he sat beside Y/N, unsure of how to act in the intimate confines of her trailer. She seemed to sense his discomfort and offered him a drink. 
"Do you want something to drink? I have water, coffee... maybe something stronger if you need it," she said with a small, nervous laugh. 
"Coffee would be great, thanks," he replied, his voice a little strained. She stood up and moved to the small kitchenette, her movements graceful despite the tension between them.  
As she waited for the coffee, she glanced back at him. The sight of him sitting there, looking at her with those soft, puppy-like eyes, made her heart flutter. The butterflies in her stomach were almost overwhelming, a mix of excitement and anxiety. 
She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. It was like seeing him for the first time all over again, every feeling she had for him rushing back with a vengeance. His presence filled the small space, and she was acutely aware of every inch between them.  
She walked back to the couch, handing him the cup. Their fingers brushed as he took it from her, and a spark of electricity shot through her. She sat back down, closer this time, unable to keep the distance that was needed.  
"Thanks," he said softly, his eyes locked onto hers. 
Her heart raced, and she could feel a blush creeping up her cheeks. She tried to focus on the conversation, on the practicalities, but all she could think about was how much she had missed him, how much she still cared. 
Jensen took a sip of the coffee, his mind still swirling with emotions. He set the drink down on the small table in front of them and turned to face Y/N fully. 
"Why did you decide to answer my texts?" he asked, his voice soft and filled with curiosity. "After all this time, why now?" 
Y/N looked down, fidgeting with her hands for a moment before meeting his gaze. She took a deep breath, her heart pounding. "I couldn't hold back anymore. I guess missed you.” 
He watched her, his eyes gentle and full of empathy, "I thought maybe we could be friends," she continued, her voice trembling slightly. "I hoped that if we could just talk, we could figure out a way to stay in each other's lives without making things worse. “ 
“But when I got your messages last night... realising maybe that wasn’t the best plan.” She felt her eyes tearing. Unable to look at him, focussing on her hands folded on her lap.  
Jensen reached out, taking her hands in his, wiping the tear away. " I want to believe that we can be just friends.”  She looked into his eyes, feeling the intensity of his emotions mirrored in her own. "Can we, Jensen. I don't want to hurt anyone, especially not Danneel.”  
"I know," he said, his voice filled with a mixture of determination and sorrow. "And I don't want to hurt anyone either. But not having you in my life is clearly not an option.”  
She nodded, a small tear slipping down her cheek. He reached out and gently wiped it away, his touch sending shivers down her spine. "We'll be friends, and careful, and we'll be honest. That's all we can do." 
Their conversation flowed into a easy going get together.
Jensen asked about her travels mesmerised by her enthusiasm. Listening while she showed him pictures on her phone. But he couldn’t help to glance over at her now and then.  
As their conversation drew to an end, Jensen stood up, "I should probably get going," he said softly, reluctant to leave but knowing they both needed time to process everything. 
Y/N nodded, her emotions swirling, making it hard to find the right words. As he turned to leave, he surprised her by stepping forward and wrapping his arms around her in a warm, unexpected hug. She hesitated for a moment, then melted into his embrace, feeling the strength and comfort of his arms around her. 
When they finally pulled back, Y/N looked up at him, her heart racing. She took in the details of his face, so familiar and yet so striking in this intimate moment. The freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks, the perfect shade of green in his eyes that seemed to look right into her soul, and his plump lips that had whispered so many secrets to her. 
A blush crept up her cheeks, and she hoped he didn't notice. But the way he was looking at her, with a mix of tenderness and longing, made her think he did. 
"Take care, Y/N," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. 
"You too, Jensen," she replied, her voice trembling with emotion. 
He lingered for a moment, as if wanting to say more, waiting for her to do something, but instead, he gave her a small, reassuring smile and turned to leave. She watched him go, her heart aching and yet filled with a strange sense of hope. 
As the door closed behind him, Y/N let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. She touched her cheek where his hand had wiped away her tear, feeling the lingering warmth of his touch.  
Jensen stood outside Y/N's trailer door, his thoughts a whirlwind of emotions. He couldn't shake the feeling of the warmth of her body against his, the way she had melted into his embrace. And in that moment, he had wanted nothing more than to kiss her, to taste those lips.  
He leaned against the trailer, running a hand through his hair as he replayed the scene in his mind. Her soulful eyes, filled with vulnerability and longing, had captured his heart in a way he couldn't explain.  
The soft blush on her cheeks and her lips... he could almost feel them against his own, soft and inviting, a perfect match to his own. But he had held back, knowing that would be wrong. They had too much to figure out.  
Taking a deep breath, he pushed away from the door and started to walk away. He knew he had to give her space, time to process everything they had talked about. But as he walked, his thoughts kept drifting back to her.  
In the meantime 
Y/N stood alone in her trailer, her heart racing and her mind spinning with thoughts of Jensen.. Every fiber of her being yearned to run after him, to kiss him, to hold him close and never let go.  
Her hand trembled as she reached out towards the door, aching to follow him, to tell him everything she was feeling. But she hesitated, knowing that rushing after him wouldn't solve anything. 
No, it would only complicate things. But as she stood there, the desire to be with him, to feel his lips against hers, grew stronger with every passing second. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to steady her breathing, trying to push away the urge.  
Finally, she opened her eyes, her resolve faltering. She couldn't ignore the longing in her heart any longer. With a determined sigh, she rushed towards the door, her footsteps echoing in the quiet trailer. 
When she reached the door, Jensen was already gone, disappearing into the distance. She stopped in her tracks, her heart sinking as she realized she had missed her chance. Tears welled up in her eyes.  
It was too late now. Jensen was to far away to follow him, and she was left standing alone, the weight of her regret heavy in her chest. She closed her eyes, silently cursing herself for not taking the leap, for letting fear hold her back from what she truly wanted. 
As Y/N stood outside her trailer, watching Jensen disappear into the distance, she couldn't stand watching him walking away, shoulders slumped in defeat, his back turned to her. Every fiber in her screamed at her to run after him but her mind said no. 
She still hesitated, torn between the fear of rejection and the overwhelming need to be with him. As she turned back towards her trailer, tears streaming down her cheeks, she caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of her eye. 
She looked up to see Jensen, his gaze fixed on her, his expression unreadable. Their eyes met for a brief moment, and in that instant, she saw the pain and longing mirrored in his eyes, a reflection of her own.  
Jensen started to walk back towards her, his pace shifting from slow to almost running. Her heart leaped in her chest as he reached the steps of her trailer and bounded up them. 
His feet still on the last step, standing eye to eye. He cupped her cheek, caressing her skin, whipping away her tears.
Without a word, Jensen leaned in, his lips meeting hers in a passionate, desperate kiss. The world around them seemed to fade away as they lost themselves in each other, the weight of their emotions finally finding release in the warmth of their embrace.
Y/N wrapped her arms around Jensen, fingers going through his long hair, pulling him closer as their kiss deepened, the intensity of their longing pouring into every touch.  
As they finally pulled back from their passionate kiss, breathless and trembling, they gazed into each other's eyes, their souls laid bare in the raw intensity of the moment. It was a moment that transcended words. 
Before she could say anything, Jensen took another step forward, towering over her. She looked up at him, her eyes meeting his, and in that moment, all the walls between them crumbled away. 
Y/N couldn't help but let out a shaky laugh, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "So much for just being friends," she joked, her voice laced with both humor and emotion. 
Jensen chuckled softly, his own eyes shining. "Yeah, I guess we kind of skipped that part," he admitted, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I'm just grateful to have you in my life, even if it's just as a friend" Y/N said softly, her voice filled with sincerity.
Giving him the space to back down if he wanted to. 
He tightened his embrace, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Me too," he whispered, his voice husky with desire. "But I would rather kiss you." 
With that, he leaned back in, his lips finding hers once again in a passionate embrace. They stumbled backwards, the door closing behind them with a soft click, forgotten in the heat of the moment. 
Their kisses grew more urgent, hands roaming over each other's bodies as they lost themselves in the intoxicating rush of desire. But just as things began to escalate, Y/N pulled back, her breath coming in ragged gasps. 
"Jensen," she said softly, her voice trembling with emotion while his lips travelled to her neck. "We need to slow down. I don't want to rush into anything." 
He looked at her, his eyes filled with understanding. "I'm sorry," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "I just got carried away, I'm sorry." She smiled up at him, her heart filled with gratitude.   
But before they could say anything else, there was a knock on the door, breaking the momentary spell they were under.
"Y/N we're ready for your scene."
She sighed, reluctantly pulling away from Jensen's embrace. 
"I guess I need to go back to set," she said, her voice tinged with regret. Jensen nodded, his hand lingering on her cheek. “Call me when your done for today?”  
Later that day.  
As the day drew to a close and the set began to quiet down, she found herself reaching for her phone, her fingers trembling with anticipation as she dialled Jensen's number.  
It rang once, twice, before he picked up, he excuses himself and walked outside to the garden.  "Hey," he said softly, his tone filled with warmth. "How was the rest of your day?" 
Y/N smiled, feeling a rush of warmth flood through her at the sound of his voice. "It was okay," she replied, her voice tinged with excitement. "But it's better now that I'm talking to you." 
Jensen chuckled softly, the sound sending shivers down her spine. "I feel the same way," he admitted. "I've been thinking about you all day."  
Danneel watched him from inside the cozy warmth of their home, a nagging feeling tugging at her heart. He never walked away when having a phone call. 
She watched him pace back and forth, his voice low and hushed as he spoke into the phone. Her brow furrowed with concern as she tried to catch fragments of his conversation, but his words were muffled by the distance between them. 
A wave of uncertainty washed over her as she watched him, her mind racing with questions. What was he talking about? Who was he talking to? And why did she feel like he was keeping something from her? 
----
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silverzoomies · 11 months
Text
Polaroid
peter maximoff x reader smut
warnings: solo masturbation. that's pretty much it, sorry
word count: 2,625
a/n: i wrote about him jerking off again. whoops. i've been absent for a week. but i'll be home tomorrow !! and hopefully i can get back into the flow of writing. until then, here's this rushed, unpolished thing i wrote on a whim !! it's super clunky and i'm so sorry lol !!
edit: made some minor changes to this. fixed some things that felt off, but overall it's still the same idea.
taglist: @dewberryobssesed @violetharmonscupcake @kaismanwich @jellyluvr @icannot3 @taintandviolent @ahoyladiesz (as usual, ask to be added !!)
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Home alone, at long last. Helllllllz to the yeah. Down in the heart of his (mom’s) basement, Peter lies lazily on his back in bed. Today, it's one of those slow, hot afternoons midway through summer. Sunny, with a slight overcast. Peter hasn’t been outside to see it for himself. But he heard some guy on the radio call it “totally tubular” weather for a day at the beach.
He almost wishes he’d take a two second run to the Bahamas, or somewhere else. Peter could kick it back on a towel and watch babes in bikinis walk by. Maybe he could even stir up some trouble in the sand. Like he used to do, way back in his childhood. Just for some extra mayhem.
Alas. Today, Peter feels lazier than lazy. He’s found a new name for himself in Lazyville. As the leading candidate in the office of laziness. Speeding all around the globe for the umpteenth time this week sounds like too much work. Even a super powered mutant, living life in the fast lane, has his off days sometimes. What’s one break, eh? Breathing a sigh, he stares up at the ceiling. Earphones rest over his ears. Peter listens to a melodious tune by Jefferson Starship. Over his belly, he twirls his thumbs, bobbing his head along with his jams. Chillaxin’ and relaxin’ as one should on his day off. Hm.
Except, Peter’s kind of antsy. No one’s home at the moment. He has all this free time to do whatever he wants, in the privacy of said home. With not a soul around to judge him, or even bug him. And listen. It’s been centuries since he got off. Which may or may not be a slight exaggeration.
But wouldn’t you believe it? Despite his uniquely handsome features and outrageously fit bod; Peter has absolutely no game whatsoever. Crazy, right? Who woulda thought it? The dude who locked himself away in his (mom’s) basement for a good ten years. He’s awkward as hell? Say it ain’t so! Whoa!! Insane in the membrane!!!
Not to mention, it might as well have been a geological age since he got laid. Whatever. Who needs the companionship of someone else to have a totally righteous time, huh? Haha…
Ahem.
Today, Peter dubs himself the crowned king of slacking off and jacking off.
Pulling his earphones down to rest around his neck, his fingers move to find his jeans. He teases himself for a beat or two, his palm rubbing over the denim. Another beat, and his cock is freed from the tight, restrictive material. Peter makes a mental note: He might need to invest in looser pants. This pair is rough and uncomfortable around his legs, so he shoves them all the way down to his ankles with virtually no shame.
What does it matter anyway? For the time being, he’s free. At least until his mom gets back, that is. He should really stop thinkin’ about that. Every time Peter remembers - oh, yeah - he’s a grown ass man still living at his mom’s place; it kinda wrecks the vibe. Makes the mood crash and burn. Total boner killer. And he’s not even hard yet.
His half-hard cock rests limply over a curly patch of silver hairs. Peter would never admit it to anyone, but he’s always been self conscious of his hair situation. Some chick back in high school - he can’t even remember her name - said his silvery bush “looked really weird.” Like the pubes of some geriatric. 
Peter can barely picture her face at this point. But the sound of her giggling at his expense is, unfortunately, locked away in his brain forever. Another embarrassing memory to withstand the test of time. Probably until he dies, or becomes a geriatric himself.
What was he doing again? Oh. Right.
Peter gives his dick a firm squeeze, like he’s checking to make sure it’s still there. Before taking the semi-hard length into his hand. Slowly, he strokes himself to hardness. Breathing a relieved sigh, Peter settles into the groovy-patterned sheets of his bed. The smooth tip of his cock inches through his closed fist with every stroke. As his frustration blossoms, his length throbs with an intense longing for something more.
Thick veins pulsate under his hand. Sparkling beads of precum leak from his tip. He coats the head in a generous glaze of slickness, eliciting a hushed noise from the depths of his throat. Keeping himself as quiet as humanly possible is basically a instinctive response. But he doesn’t have to hold himself back right now, does he?
Sweet. Peter’s gonna be as loud and obnoxious as he wants.
Pumping his cock a bit faster, he momentarily stops to fondle his balls. They rest heavy in his palm, smooth to the touch and loose between his fingers. After teasing himself impatiently, Peter redirects his attention to his twitching length. Aching for more stimulation. He jerks off with a pleasurable rhythm. Subconsciously following the beat that resonates from his earphones, his strokes fall into a more consistent pace. He leans further back in bed, letting his lips part. His nerves tingle. And as he revels in the sensation, he loudly moans. Letting the noise rip through the silence of his ( mom’s ) basement.
Said basement has now become more stifling. Kudos to the summertime heat for that one. Peter’s Conan the Barbarian T-Shirt - now damp with his sweat - feels like too much of a hindrance. He pulls the fabric up, letting his upper half breath. With his shirt clamped between his teeth, Peter leaves his body exposed. A sheen of sweat coats his abs, and his pecs raise with each labored breath he takes.
He takes a half second to admire his own physique. Honestly? No bullshit? His body looks pretty damn amazing. If only there were someone around to appreciate how naturally jacked he is. It’s a hell of a tragedy, really. All this smokin’ hot, speedster bod goin’ to waste. Tsk tsk tsk.
Who was he even kidding? Why would anyone wanna waste their time messin’ around with a total shut-in like him?
Dammit. Now's not the time for some hateful, self-ribbing. He should distract himself with something. Something like-
Using the gift of his mutation, Peter increases his speed by a few notches. His fist squeezes tightly around his length, stroking his cock even faster. He groans into his shirt, knitting his brows as arousal washes through his groin in waves. It feels good. Really fucking good.
But it’s not enough. He wants to utilize this free time as much as he can. It’s the perfect opportunity to get even more frisky than he usually would. Peter bolts around the basement, searching for a few hidden…uh…treasures, we’ll call them. In a blink, he reappears on his bed, leaving his overly tight jeans and boxers discarded on the floor.
Lying next to Peter over the wrinkled blankets, rest a bottle of lube - the tingly kind, a stroker toy - clear, with literal, silver lining, and a polaroid photo. The toy hasn’t been used in eons, but its quality is still up to par. Peter made sure to clean it the instant he found it again. And the photo, well…
It’s his own, filthy secret.
A low-res, high flash picture taken of you at last year’s, X-mansion, Halloween party. Whoa, mama. You were scantily clad in the most outrageously suggestive Indiana Jones costume Peter ever saw. Back at the party, you even tipped your hat and cracked the whip a couple of times. Which may or may not have awakened something in him. But that’s beside the point.
You were so tipsy that night. Way more flirtatious than you naturally would be any other day. Peter remembers you pressing your body against his, hanging over him all night like a sexy sack of potatoes. He sat next to you on the couch. With a cheesy grin on his face, he watched your every move. The tiny shorts you were wearing kept riding up your thighs. It was obvious you were braless under a tight, cropped, button-up shirt. Leaving so little to the imagination.
Point blank, it was fucking awesome.
You crossed your smooth legs. One over the other. And you leaned in to whisper something hot in Peter’s ear.
“Take a picture with meeeee, Quickie, I wanna remember this moment forrrever and everrrr.” You pleaded, your breath tickling the skin of his neck. 
What followed, he hadn’t seen coming. As someone - it’s all a blur, Peter can’t remember who - snapped the photo, you pressed your glossy lips to his cheek. Your giggles were so coquettish and teasing, he felt shivers race through his body at mach speed.
“I’m, like, sooooooooo scared of snakes. Geddit? ‘Cuz I’m Indiana? But your snake doesn’t scare me. Can I pet it, pllllleeeassse?” You giggled again with a little whine.
Making an abrupt move, you reached for Peter’s crotch in front of everybody. After zipping away to grab you a solo cup full of water and some bread, Peter snatched the photo from whoever. And he bolted home in a fit of shameful embarrassment.
In retrospect, you weren’t just tipsy. You were majorly smashed. You didn’t remember a single minute of it. Figures. He’s not too surprised you wouldn’t remember flirting with him.
Peter sighs, blinking himself out of the memory. Eager to continue his once-in-a-silver-moon, jerkin’ session. He squeezes a fair amount of lube into his palm, wrapping his large hand tightly around his cock. Over every inch of his aching length, he spreads the slick substance. Tingles sparkle like stars across the hot, velvet skin of his cock. Wet noises echo lewdly through the basement, as Peter pumps his leaking dick fast and hard.
Clenching his shirt between his teeth, Peter tilts his head back. A loud, seething moan slips from his lips, slightly muffled. He pauses again, grabbing the stroker and guiding its smooth slit over the swollen head of his cock.
“MMmmmnnn~!” Peter hums a steady moan, exhaling through his nose.
The inside of the toy feels nothing even remotely close to the real thing. Kind of a bummer. But the tunnel’s soft, bumpy ridges are still a double A plus. A little too good sometimes, actually. The toy slides down Peter’s cock as he pushes his entire length through. It’s a tight fit around him. Tighter than it should be. Which is doing wonders for his confidence. Maybe he should be more proud of his size.
He’s above average enough, the small toy can’t contain the length of him entirely. His weeping tip peeks out the other side of the stroker, prodding through with every pump. Peter breathes another, shuddering moan. His brows crease in pleasure. Pumping his cock with the squishy toy, he whines in desperation. Forcing his thick length through the toy’s tight grip, slick with lube and smooth as silk. The ridges inside tickle and massage his cock, stimulating his buzzing nerves. 
The muscles in his groin tighten, stiffening his legs. Shoving his cock rapidly through the ribbed tunnel of the toy, he groans louder. Letting his needy noises slip as they please. Fuck it. No restraint. Indulging himself further in his degeneracies, Peter keeps your photo close by. He shoots a glance at it, admiring your soft thighs and amazing cleavage.
He daydreams about you. Imagining the way you’d feel around him, squeezing him so much tighter than any toy. You’d be needy and wet for him too, making it so easy for Peter to bury himself balls deep inside you. 
Peter thinks about the way your titties would look, bouncing with each thrust of his hips against you. Would your nipples peak, stiffening under his fingers? How would you react if he had a little fun, and teased you with a superspeed buzz? Would you even like that? Would you think that kinda thing was weird?
He really does want you sooooo bad. But you have absolutely zero idea. Peter knows he’d treat you right if you let him. If you ever gave him the time of day outside of missions, he’d take you on the wildest ride you ever strapped yourself into.
Clenching his teeth hard into his shirt, he wraps both hands tightly around the stroker. Peter leans as far back as he can, bracing his feet flat on the bed. The blankets curl under his toes, as he lifts his hips. Driving his cock through the slick, textured toy and fucking it hard.
“Nnghh…fuuuuck. Fuck.” He groans, voice catching under fabric.
His breaths quicken, and his moans morph into desperate whimpers. Peter aches for your heat, and the closeness of your body. Your gentle touch. Your sweet voice and little whines. He knows, without a doubt, you’d feel beyond amazing. And you’d probably taste so sublime.
Squeezing his eyes tightly shut, Peter whimpers into his shirt. Saliva seeps through the fabric, melting off his tongue and dribbling down his chin. His cheeks burn hotter, turning a brighter shade of crimson.
“Mmmmmfuckyeah-” Peter moans, followed by a muffled mumble of your name.
He fucks his cock through the toy at rapid, superspeed. Lifting his hips off the bed as if roughly drilling into your tight heat. Peter’s cock throbs as powerful surges of electricity erupt in the pit of his belly. Glossy, white streaks of cum spill from his tip, flooding over the toy. Dripping down the squishy sides of it. His cum stuffs the inside full, coating his dick in its stickiness. Peter thrusts his cock fast enough to appear a blur, until he’s completely spent.
Lying in a sweaty heap over his blankets, Peter pants easy breaths. Tousled, silver hair rests messily over his head. He pulls the stroker from his cock, and slick cum trails after it. Wet and thick against his softening dick. He throws his head back into the bed, taking a moment to compose himself.
It’s really crazy that he’s thinkin’ about you like this, isn’t it? He’s honestly really embarrassed by it. Peter grabs the polaroid and stares at it longingly, unable to suppress the grin pressing into his dimple. Damn. He just can’t help himself. No matter what, he’s kinda ride or die for you.
If only he had the balls to tell you up front.
Peter gazes at the photo for a few seconds too long. Lost in the sight of your sexy body again. You’re such a goddamn knockout. He guides his attention to his dick to find…he’s rock hard again? Seriously? Dropping his head onto the bed, Peter groans with agonizing frustration. He just can’t catch a break, can he? Why’s he always gotta be so antsy, so on edge, or so horny all the time??
A faint sound, like creaking wood, graces his ears. Peter tilts his head up instantly.
Only to be greeted by none other than the unexpected sight of you.
Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Ohfuckohfuckohfuckohfuck-
You’re standing in his ( mom’s ) basement with your mouth agape. A faint indication of blush paints your cheeks, though he can barely see it. Peter should be moving. He should do what a speedster naturally would do in this kinda situation: Clean up and dress himself in less than a blink’s time. Just to play innocent afterwards. Maybe he could gaslight you into thinking you didn’t watch him get his rocks off.
But he’s stunned to the point of being frozen. Neither of you make a single move. Except for Peter’s dick. It twitches subconsciously in his lap, catching your attention. And your eyes widen further.
He really should’ve gone to the Bahamas. Peter’s betting those beaches are seriously bangin’ at this time of year.
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hybbart · 6 months
Note
*Discreetly slides this fan letter into your mailbox* 
From: Anonymous Fan, 
Address: Ask Box, Tumblr, somewhere on Planet Earth
To: Hybbart
Address: Hybbart's Blog, Tumblr, somewhere on Planet Earth
Date: Today, 
Dear Hybbart,
Hi! I'm just a little anon writing to say thank you so much for your amazing Ranchers Apocalypse AU. I've binged it several times and I plan on doing it again and again. It's given me so much hope for life. I have never experienced anything like it before. Your art is incredible and I could stare at it all day. 
I don't comment on things often, I'm usually one of the silent spectators but I really felt like I needed to give you a thank you.
 I have hated and avoided apocalypse stories because they always felt so hopeless and scary to me but yours is the first I've seen that's not hopeless. Thank you so much for the new perspective of an apocalypse story. Now I love them. If an actual apocalypse happened I hope I am one of the ones, like the Ranchers, that don't give up and keep pressing on even in the hard and seemingly dark times. Not only to just survive but to thrive. To keep holding on to hope for a better tomorrow. Rain or shine, bring it on. It's almost like the Ranchers are giving life a middle finger lol. Like, Gosh dang it life, you want us dead, oh heck no we will live and not only will we live but to really add insult to injury we are choosing to thrive.
I love how the story is almost like Polaroid photos with little notes at the bottom of each; it feels a bit like a scrapbook documenting important moments in the story which is cool. It's so unique and it's nothing like I've ever seen before. It's incredible.
My goodness, the way that you draw characters so expressive and dynamic with their poses and the amount of details in the background. It's absolutely captivating. I love studying and admiring each picture.
Your art and stories are inspiring and healing. I fully believe that people's worlds will be flipped on their heads for the better when they experience the stories and art that you create. You flipped my world. Please don't stop creating. The world needs what you have to give. 
Once more thank you for the incredible story, I can't imagine how much time you spent on it. The love you have for the AU really shines through your work. You are an inspiration. 
I look forward to what comes next in the RAAU, rain or shine, bring it on.
Sincerely,
- Anonymous Fan <3 <3 <3
P.S Also a song rec that I think is really neat and hope you think is neat too: 
Owl City's Bird with a Broken Wing.
It makes me think of Jimmy after the apocalypse started but before Tango found him. 
P.P.S if you are reading this, thanks so much for reading this long letter. Lol.
Thank you very much! I think you might enjoy two series, called yokohama shopping log and Zom 100: bucketlist of the dead. Yokohama shopping log is a very lovely slice of life healing series about the twilight of the world and the people who've accepted it and decided to live the best they can, including robots. Zom 100 is about a man so beaten down by modern work culture the apocalypse sets him free and gives him and everyone around him the opportunity to be human and enjoy life again. They're both series about human compassion and small joys in the end times, and big influences on raau.
And that reminds me! I've been work on raau for over a full year now! It's crazy to me, I hope to work on it again soon.
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wayfayrr · 11 months
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Hi! I saw your requests are open and I read what you posted about fem!reader with piercings, and I wanted to request fem!reader but with lots of tattoos, maybe a full on sleeve tattoo on one or both arms in chain’s world if that’s ok (´・ᴗ・`)
It can be with anyone you want, whether it’s someone you’ve been wanting to write about, or whoever would give you the most motivation, or whoever you think would be the most interesting to do in this scenario, have fun with this ♡︎
That's very okay anon!! Ngl you actually scared me with the timing of this ask though, I was literally talking to a coworker about how I've always been considering a sleeve then I saw your ask just a bit later JSVNJODN!! But this was really self-indulgent in the end! the tattoos reader has are only loosely described If anyone wants to know what I was picturing as I wrote feel free to ask I'm happy to share!!! I ended up writing for Sky since he's my favourite! I hope you like it!!
“You and I are sharing a room tonight then, my dove? I can’t believe they’ve let me have you all to myself like this. It’s the perfect chance for you to show me some more of your music…”
That incident earlier seems to have given Sky far more confidence around me now, not that I’m saying that I don’t like how much more touchy he’s gotten, it’s far from that. Sky having more confidence to act how he wants around me rather than how he thinks he should act or like he’s trying to keep me at arm's length feels wonderful. Even if he is still teasing me about it. His laugh when he’s not holding back at all is still one of the most beautiful sounds, and I truly doubt it’ll ever stop being one.
“Yeah, maybe I can use the chance to show you some decent things, first though I’d rather get into something more comfortable and settle.”
“I’m looking forward to it dear, if you’d prefer you can go in now and change while I change somewhere else?”
“Thanks Sky, I’ll see you back here in a second then.”
It’s only fair I tease him back with a kiss, what if he’s going to be so confident with how he holds me most of the time now it’s only fair that I can be more confident as well. Sky didn’t take long either, coming back just as I finished changing, no doubt faster due to being more used to how these clothes just are. And he’s staring at me, Oh right! He’s not seen my tattoo before. He’s got every right to be curious, given I’ve never mentioned it before. The feeling of his hand hovering right over my arm almost feels near intoxicating, he’s so gentle like he’s afraid to do something wrong.
“Dearest would you mind if I..?”
“I don’t, I um well I should’ve told you a bit earlier shouldn’t I.”
“No! I mean, no I’m glad that I found out like this.”
He’s completely enamoured with the biggest tattoo I have, the one on my left arm. Tracing the lines so tenderly, like he’s scared of being overindulgent in giving me attention. It’s almost taunting how softly affectionate he’s being even just for this one, like he thinks I deserve to be treated with the same tenderness as someone would a piece of art within a gallery. Is he going to be like this with all of them?
“It means I get to appreciate your beauty without anyone interrupting, and I don’t think I could bear to share your attention right now.”
“T-thanks Sky. I swear if it wasn’t for the fact I can’t stay in Hyrule I would’ve already asked you to date me.”
“Why should that stop you dearest?”
“Well because I don’t want to cause you any pain when I have to leave, I can’t bring myself to be the one causing you that pain.”
The way his hands tensed around my arms as I said that, along with the face that he pulled? Sky doesn’t seem all that infatuated with the idea that I could leave him, not that I want to, not that I have the choice. His grip loosened quickly though, him pulling me into a gentle hug instead with a whine. Still obsessing over my tattoos at the same time, but with his focus changing from my sleeve to the band on my right instead although now his touch feels more like he’s trying to ground himself. Ironic really.
“Why would you assume I wouldn’t follow you? I couldn’t handle you leaving if I were courting you or not. Not now.”
“I can’t ask that of you Sky, you’re too important to the future of Hyrule.”
“Well, it’s a good thing you aren’t asking. It’s my choice.”
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Lila being the new Hawk Moth doesn't make any sense. It makes more sense for either Nathalie or Tomoe to become the new Hawk Moth. It even makes more sense for Chloe to be the new Hawk Moth than Lila.
I think it says a lot that I've never read a fanfic that even tried to pull off Lila becoming the butterfly and I've read a lot of Lila takedowns. Almost everything staring her is about her lies being outed, leading to her defeat. Even the rare fics that do try to make her the butterfly don't show her becoming the butterfly. She just has it somehow because her getting it was hard to picture. Even canon couldn't come up with a logical reason.
This tells you how the fandom views the character. She is not seen as a manipulative mastermind. She's seen as a petty child who would be relatively easily defeated. In other words, the writers have completely failed to set her up as a solid, terrifying threat. Instead, she's OP in an aggravating, unbelievable way that makes her new status as magical villain the source of a headache, not excitement. All her power comes from everyone else being stupid and is anyone looking forward to three seasons of that? (Miraculous has been confirmed to have 8 seasons planned and I'm assuming she'll be the lead for all of them given how long Gabriel was dragged out)
Tomoe or Nathalie being the new magical villain makes so much more sense and would have been so much more exciting than Lila, the girl who can say whatever she wants and everyone will believe it because plot. I'd even take Chloe over Lila. It would still be awkward to get the butterfly into her hands, but at least Chloe has character development and a clear motivation. We have no idea who Lila even is and, at this point, I really don't care. It's not like she's a new character. They literally had four seasons to make me care about her, how much more time do they need to setup a villain?
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