#stream superhuman

[pwinkprincess]

how to tame a brat ୨ৎ

you make the mistake of calling toji a bitch

⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆ HOW TO TAME A BRAT ⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆ ---> creampie, p in v, squirting, multiple orgasms, choking (not hard enough to kill lol), use of the word daddy, he calls her a bitch once, rough sex, he gets softer near the end, light praising, pet names (princess), failed orgasm denial, begging, thoughts about recording (briefly mentioned), dacryphilia

“Ohmygod! I’m sorry, daddy, please!” You whined out from both desperation and over stimulation. You let out a shrill when he said nothing and only pushed your head deeper into the pillow. You couldn’t believe you were getting fucked like this. The way he pounded your pussy until it was on the borderline from overstimulation, the way he talked to you as if you were nothing to him but a hole to stick his fat dick inside. Everything was overwhelming.

“You weren’t sorry when you called me a bitch, right? Hmm? Say it again, call me a bitch now.” He slapped the fat of your ass as hard as he possibly could causing you to scream out and pathetically try to scramble away. “Stop fucking runnin’.” He demanded. He stopped plowing into your weeping pussy and leaned over so that he could wrap both hands around your neck. The pressure wasn’t enough to kill you but it did restrict your breathing quite a bit.

Your cries began getting stuck in your throat. You could do nothing but whimper and take the rough pounding he gave you.Tears streamed down your face, it felt like a gallon of water was dumped onto the pillow from how much crying you were doing.

Toji let out loud grunts as he stared down to where the two of you were connected, a white ring was formed around the base of his dick from your wet pussy. You had already came three times; once from his tongue, once from him fingering you and you squirting everywhere, and another from him just tip fucking you while rubbing your sensitive clit. There’s no telling how long Toji plans on going. Age be damned, that man had superhuman stamina.

“Daddy!” You croaked out when he shifted his hips and started hitting the spot. Toji only let out a hum as you repeated his name over and over as you felt your orgasm building up.

“You better not fucking cum.” He warned. You felt a pit in your stomach, both from the impending orgasm and from his warning. How did he expect you not to cum when he was fucking you like a madman?

“Please, pleasepleasepleaseplease, I can’t take it! ‘S too much!” Your brain was practically mushed. All you could think about is Toji’s fat cock filling every inch of your being. You were gnawing at the sheets, biting the pillow, letting out screams and nothing seemed to cease his thrusting. You were painfully aware that he wouldn’t stop unless you used the safe word the two of you agreed on.

“I’ll never call you a bitch again! I’m sorry!” Your pussy desperately clenched around his dick, warning him of what was about to happen. You felt limbless as you tried to hold back your orgasm.

“You were so bold over the phone, why aren’t you now?” You let out a loud sob once you felt one of his hands that were around your neck dart down to your clit, “You better not fucking cum, Brat.”

“I’m sorry! Sorrysorrysorryfuckfuckfuckfuck!” Your breathing halted as you clenched down tight enough to draw a moan out of Toji also. Your entire body shook and your eyes rolled back as far as they could go. You could briefly feel liquid shooting out and you realized he made you squirt again.

Toji, though irritated that you couldn’t follow his instructions, removed his cock from your pussy and began rubbing the tip throughout your wetness. He cooed at you as your loud moaning dejected into soft whimpers. He rubbed his tip against your clit, watching as you twitched and your pussy clenched around nothing. He would be lying if he said watching you squirt all over his dick wasn’t attractive. He silently wished he would have recorded it so that he could have fap material for later.

You laid boneless, it physically felt like you couldn’t move anymore. You were now silent but your breathing was extremely loud.

“You don’t fucking listen. You call me a bitch and then don’t listen to my orders.” Your heart pounds loudly in your chest from the obvious annoyance in Toji’s tone. If you had the energy, you would have tried to defend yourself and also make it up to him by getting on your knees and sucking him off until he felt like forgiving you.

You huffed out as your response. He didn’t move for a few seconds until he suddenly laid beside you and grabbed you. He adjusted you until you were laying on your side with your back to his chest.

“Tired?” He asked as he began kissing your neck.

“Very.” You responded softly with a soft moan from his ministrations.

“Can I keep fuckin’ you until I cum, princess?” The rough tone that he was using with you earlier is now gone and replaced with something more gentle. His hands rub at your thighs and hip as he waits for your response. You can feel his hard dick pressing against your back causing you to suddenly feel bad that he hasn’t had his turn to cum yet.

“Of course, baby.” You gave him a lazy smile that you weren’t sure if he was able to see.

He continued sucking and kissing on your neck. He would briefly bite down on your skin, not enough to break it but enough to cause a sensation. One of his hands surged forward, he began pulling and pinching at your nipple while he used his other hand to line his dick up at the entrance of your hole.

He slowly pushed himself in, letting out a grunt in relief. Nothing felt better than being inside of you. You and your pussy are too addictive. Toji has never felt this way about a woman ever. He’s usually the type to fuck and dip but he finds himself coming back to you time and time again. How could he give up pussy that is so delicious? Just the thought of him letting you go and some man stumbling and finding you makes him wanna roughly fuck you again.

You let out a tired, stretched out moan as you welcome his dick into you again. His hand grabs at your thigh and lifts it up so that he could have more access. He wastes no time fucking his cock into you. Your pussy squelches as more of your natural lubrication seeps onto his dick. You’re so fucking wet, he could feel it dripping onto his balls. He rolls his eyes back as he gets lost in your pussy.

The pinching on your nipple gets even rougher as he moves his hips faster. He removes his lips from your neck only to move down to your shoulder where he begins to also suck and bite on random areas. You bite down on your lip as you try to enjoy his dick rubbing against your gummy walls, you’re so so so sensitive now.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet.” Toji mumbles out, he’s absolutely pussy drunk. He can’t form any thoughts besides you. He has to bite his lips from saying those three words. “My little obedient bitch.” He uses the hand that’s pulling at your nipple to grab your jaw so that you could look at him.

The two of you briefly stare into each other’s eyes as his hips falter. The way you look at him, the way you smell, the way you feel, the way you sound, it’s everything about you. He’s absolutely infatuated.

“Gonna cum.” You whine as you orgasm once again. It’s not as powerful as the other few times but it’s enough to absolutely wear you out.

Toji moans along with you as you clench around his dick. He presses his lips against your when he feels his impending orgasm finally break free. He plunges deep into your pussy as thick white loads of cum fill you. You chant his name against his lips as your eyes roll back.

Even once he’s done cumming he still gives you a few soft thrusts before coming to a complete stop. He removes his lips from yours with a soft pop.

“You did so well, princess.” He mumbles as he gives you one more final kiss.

Making up an argument and getting him worked up is so worth it, you decide.

#pwinkprincess ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა #₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ #tojiii ᡣ𐭩 ୨୧ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ #jjk ! ૮꒰⸝⸝> ̫ <⸝⸝꒱ა #˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji smut #toji x you #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk smut #fushiguro toji #toji x y/n #toji fushigro x reader

[pinkmirth]

⸻ 𝑃ℛℰ𝒮ℰℛ𝒱ℰ!

𝒮𝒴𝒩𝒪𝒫𝒮ℐ𝒮 ౨ৎ ₊ ⊹ the belmont family has endured for centuries, and it’s now up to richter to keep it going strong. there’s only one way to ensure the expansion of his bloodline, and it’s simple; knocking you up.

𝒞𝒪𝒩𝒯𝒜ℐ𝒩𝒮 ౨ৎ ₊ ⊹ ( 6k+ words of . . . ) richter belmont x fem!reader, canon-divergent, set in the 18th century (1700s), nsfw/smut, porn with very little plot, established relationship, size difference, nipple play, handjob, panty-ripping, p-in-v, heavy breeding kink, many mentions of pregnancy, missionary, tummy bulge, lotus position, creampies, richie’s a bit cocky (when is he not!), use of pet names (e.g. darling, love, good girl, rich, richie . . .), richter calls reader a ‘ cockslut ’ once, explicit language, lowercase intended, black coded, minors shoo!

𝑀𝒴 𝐿𝒪𝒱ℰ-𝒩𝒪𝒯ℰ! ౨ৎ ₊ ⊹ after binging castlevania (nocturne), i instantly fell for that gorgeous man richter & his baby blue eyes ><  he’s got a sharp mouth, a pretty face, and nice biceps– of course i’m in love with him! i just had to whip up somethin’ for my favorite belmont (dunno why, but i heavily believe their clan is crazy about breeding hmm) this was supposed to be an itty bitty drabble, but it ended up much longer than i thought it’d be . . . and might i warn you that this is mostly just sappy, nasty filth. now, please enjoy this smutty piece of work for richie! ❤︎

richter has made the renard household your favorite place on earth. more specifically, you’re fond of his homey bedroom. it’s got this olde charm to it, and a wide glass window with french-pinewood framing; one that offers a pleasant view of the grassy fields and neighboring stream that surround the cottage. 

over anything else, his bed is surely the best part of it all. there’s a fluffy duvet in that dusty-blue color he likes, one so large that it covers his long legs even when they tangle between yours. the quilted mattress has just the right amount of space for two lovers, and is comfy enough to keep you warm throughout the night, considering the chance you might stay over. 

though, there is a downside, as nothing can be perfect— it creaks far too much when he fucks you. 

it’s not often that the both of you can make good use of that bed of his, especially when the noise makes things terribly obvious. you wouldn’t dare attempt anything improper in richter’s room with his adoptive family just a brief set of steps away. 

there's a time for everything, but not that he cares. you try paying no mind to richter’s lingering touches along your waist, and how he mischievously dives underneath your bottoms to grab at the fat of your ass with a wicked grin; all as his aunt tera boils porridge and beans by the stovetop downstairs. you’re sure he finds joy in the risk, or more in provoking you. 

it’s only when the house is empty, apart from you and richter and nothing else, that you can have your fun. like now, for instance. it’s out of pure luck that tera decided to pay a visit to the farmer’s market, and for maria to tag along with her mother as well. they mentioned something about wanting to buy the best of what the early-autumn harvest had to offer, with the meats being juiciest and the produce fresher than it’s been all year. 

you believe that’s why richter’s got so much stamina— the plenty of food he’s been scarfing down lately. or, possibly, it could just be him . . . nothing but him, and his unexplainable belmont genes that make him fucking superhuman. he swears he’s normal, but the way he picks you up with such ease as soon as his family steps out the door can only be deemed as unnatural. 

he's quick to sweep you off your feet, in the most abrupt way he can, of course. richter grins over the way you squeal as he whisks you past the kitchen, ‘round the table, and down the corridor. his hands work at keeping you upright, palms firmly planted under your thighs. he carries your weight like that of a feather and doesn't break a sweat. but considering where he’s headed, straight to his bedroom, that’ll soon change. 

“don’t go getting all surprised on me,” richter voices a lighthearted whisper. he kisses the part of your neck that he can manage to reach from above the collar of your blouse, “you know what we do once we have the place to ourselves.” 

“you snatched me off the ground without notice, i’ve all the right to be surprised— ohmygod, richter!” you sputter out a laugh, with his mouth on your flesh being so ticklish. you can feel his lips curving upwards, taking the shape of a smile. your arms fling around the back of his neck like second nature, fingers carding through his fluffy brunette hair. with zero patience, as always, richter kicks the door in with the shallow heel of his leather thigh-boot, slips into the room with you still in his arms, and shuts it closed by pressing you up against it. 

he was right about one thing— once tera and maria leave, this is exactly how it goes. clothes are torn off with haste (mostly on richter’s end, as you could imagine), heated kisses are exchanged, and he spits the nastiest words with that sharp mouth of his in order  to get you all worked up. the night sky and moonshine from the window gives his room this subtle tone of blue, but he makes you feel red-hot. 

richter keeps you right where he wants you; held up by his unfiltered strength, with your back to the door. one moment, he’s drawing closer to you, raking over every detail of your face with nothing but admiration swirling in his eyes. by the next, his lips are moving languidly against yours, slightly unruly yet undeniably passionate. you wouldn’t dare admit how much of a damn good kisser he is. the man’s ego would fucking skyrocket.

though, you really don’t have to tell him anything. the way you reciprocate his affection says it all. he breaks away for a sparing moment, but not before bringing his tongue across your bottom lip in one playful swipe. it’s light, teasing, and completely of his nature.

“i can see it in your eyes, y’know.” richter chuckles at how you lean forward to chase after the warmth of his lips again. he brings you to your feet so he can slip off his fingerless gloves and undo any harnesses. he then crouches a bit to unzip his boots. 

“see what?” you airily huff, haphazardly undoing button by button on your blouse until it’s completely open. similarly, he begins to make quick work of his top. you enjoy the flexure of his biceps as he pulls them out from the sleeves of his cerulean blue blazer-vest that he drops once free of, allowing it to scatter to the ground. you catch onto its emblem; the belmont crest, neatly embroidered upon the breast-pocket. 

“how much you want this,” richter peers down at you, eyes gleaming the prettiest tint of blue. “it’s cute, how obvious you are.” his upper half is bare, and the smooth canvas of his chest is all can focus on while he closes in on you. you’re trapped between the sturdy door and his heated body, and you wouldn’t rather be anywhere else. 

“you’re practically salivating over the thought of getting fucked, yeah? bet you wouldn’t mind if i took you right here.” he grins as he says it, staring unashamedly at how cleavage pools from your brassiere. richter creeps a finger underneath the strap, tugs it down and does the same with the other, dipping his head low to pepper your bare shoulder with feather-light pecks. before long, the bra’s at your feet. 

“hm, but you’re no different,” you manage out, reveling in the warm lashing of his tongue against your nipple. it buds up the more he suckles at it.

“really, now?” he eventually parts from your breasts and rises back up to his full imposing height, carrying that faint smirk he forever wears. he looks so adorable this way— cheeks pink, lips spit-streaked. richter takes hold of your bottoms from either side of you, and swiftly brings them down with what you could only call pure impatience. 

“yes, really. you’re just as desperate,” you counter him, reaching low to prove it. your palm grazes his bulge, and you give a few thorough squeezes; the kind that makes his mouth drop open. 

“look at you, almost bursting out of your pants,” you quietly giggle, gazing up at him through the wisps of your lashes. richter wonders how you make such light fun while using your touch to undo him all at once. his breathing quickens, and it gets just a little heavier with your every attempt to caress his throbbing cock through his trousers. “seems like you need it more than i do, doesn’t it?” 

“oh, fuck me . . .” richter whines, settling his head into the slope of your shoulder. your touch leaves him, just for a moment, to rid him of those restrictive pants. his cock springs free from its confines and bobs under its own weight. he’s got more length than girth; a good six or seven in size, with two thick veins running along the underside of him. the faint-pink tip prods at your thigh, staining your skin with precum. 

he bucks against you hungrily, fingertips digging into the seams of your panties. you think you can hear them splintering apart. in the heat of things, he always winds up tearing your good underwear. 

richter could ease into this moment and let your hand work him senseless, but there comes a time where he decides to end the charade. there’s also no knowing when his aunt and sister will return. he wants to make the most out of the unpromised time you have. 

and so, he cuts your fun short with a mere rasp, “i’m through messing around with you. get on the fucking bed.” 

no malice is found in his words; it’s just the height of his lust. you’d do as told, but richter’s already taking action into his own hands. with two, three— no, four steps, he’s standing at the bedside and splaying you across it. he snags off the remaining of your torn panties, left to suggestively decorate his floor. now, in all your naked glory, you’re bare and ready for him. 

richter crawls over to you and kneels from above where you lay, situated closely between your legs. your thighs cushion either side of his lean hips. he leans down occasionally whenever you plead for a kiss, or wish to thread your fingers through his brown tousled hair. it now looks just a bit wilder than usual. 

“c’mon— open, darling.” he hints at your legs, smoothing his warm palms down from your calves to your thighs. ever the compliant girlfriend, you part them nice and wide for his viewing pleasure. your cunt’s glossy and wet, clenching around nothing but the intangible air around. 

‘oh, how pretty,’ he breathlessly murmurs, dragging two fingers across the expanse of your body. down, down, down, until they’re tracing along your slit. your dripping hole puckers against the pads of his index and middle, and you whimper when he threatens to push two inside. 

“this wet, yet i’ve hardly done a thing,” his voice is ever boastful, “are you sure i’m the desperate one?” both fingers are suddenly replaced with his stiff erection, and he uses the precum-stained tip to catch onto your clit, resting warm and heavy against it. to that, you release a little ‘mm,’ and he taps against your puffy bud with the head of his cock— stopping once your hips start bucking for more. 

“god, you just love to torment me . . . ” you huff out, vexation getting the best of you. “torment you? oh, never.” richter taunts, slotting himself between your puffy folds. he steers the way he glides against you by keeping a thumb at the base. “i just like to watch you squirm, is all.” 

you know how to pry what you want out of him; a little bit of begging here, a small ounce of praise there. you lift your hips to grind against the underside of him, emitting soft moans whenever he rubs against your swollen clit just right, “richter, please. i really need your cock . . .”  

“oh, baby,” he bites at his lower lip, giving in just as you expected of him. “i love it when you ask nicely.” in one fluid motion, he fits himself past the fleshy ring of your entrance and slips right inside. noise falls from you both; you’re gasping at the steady push, doing your best to accommodate every given inch, and richter’s letting small groans escape him, fingers digging into the tender flesh of your hips. 

“always so fucking . . . tight,” he emits a shuddered breath, dropping his head to watch himself bottom out deep enough for his balls to nestle snugly against your ass-cheeks. you’re well connected now, to the point where his own pelvis has become sticky with your arousal. chestnut fringes drop into his view, and he sweeps his hair back with one hand threading through it. 

“you’re taking it all so well this time,” he lifts his gaze to meet yours, a subtle grin playing on his lips. “such a good girl for me.” the connection between you two pulsates. he starts to build a delicious rhythm— drawing out for just a second, and pushing back in by the next. he watches you melt beneath him, your eyes sealed shut and mouth agape. a tangly string of moans tumble from your plush lips. richter’s no composer by any means, but the sounds he pulled from you is nothing short of beautiful music. 

he’s without resignation tonight, and you notice his intensity when handling you. those naughty hands of his cup and squeeze and rub, his thrusts are fast, and you're sure that the resounding ‘smack!’ of skin-upon-skin can be heard from outside the window with how loud it’s become.  

richter’s got your wrists bound above your head using the grip of only one firm hand, while he uses the other to keep your leg perched over his broad shoulder. his cock pushes deeper inside whenever he rolls his hips into your own, and your toes curl against the sheets with every stroke. when ramming in, his breath goes shaky at the sight of your body lurching, and pulling out makes his eyes roll back with how hard you’re clamping down on him, practically begging him to stay. 

you’re soon to unravel, and you can tell he is too. his thighs begin to tremble, and his pace is less timely. nearing ecstasy, you already know what richter’s bound to ask you: 

“where do you want me?” 

without fail, he poses the same question by the near end of every session. and each time, you opt for the safe route, even though you secretly wish for more. your answer mostly varies on whatever position he’s got you manhandled in. bashfully, you’ll instruct him to cum over your ass if he has you bent over, or your tits if he’s been ogling them the whole night. sometimes, you’ll even let him decorate your pretty face with his seed— now that drives him mad, so much so that you always go another round or two afterwards. 

but your true desire is, by far, much filthier than the rest. you’re nowhere near daring enough to plainly admit that you want his cum inside of you. as in, womb-filling placement. pregnancy-inducing, even. 

though, something’s come over you tonight. you think richter’s finally ‘fucked you stupid’ the way he always cockily threatens to. or, maybe having him settled within you just feels too good to give up so soon. you don’t want him pulling out this time, you determine. what you need is for him to stay right where he is, to keep you stuffed whole with his warm love. all you want is for him to do it— 

“inside,” is your breathless cry; a risky plea of the very thing he spends lone nights getting himself off to the thought of. richter isn't sure he heard you right— no, it must be a cruel figment of his perverse imagination. a bead of sweat's caught along his raised brow, those blue eyes of his carry a hooded glow, and his face, bearing a cutely furrowed look, grows pinker than before. 

“what?” 

“oh, god,” you whine, face gone hot. “richter, i . . .” the words melt off your tongue and fizzle into nothing. 

“you . . ?” he plays around your hesitance, drawing out the word with some light goading. you sigh rather than responding, and it’s a dramatic one, because does he really have to make you repeat yourself? richter gazes down at you expectantly as he slows his movements, finding purchase on your waist to come to an unsteady pause. his fingers drum along your sides, awaiting more clarity. 

your voice is small when you manage to confess, “ . . . i want you to cum inside of me.”

you think you can see the very moment that he fucking breaks. it’s like his resolve’s a porcelain vase, oh so delicate, and you’ve just pushed it to the floor and cracked it into a million tiny pieces. he releases this low groan, one that makes your pussy flutter at the sound of it. you can feel how rapidly his cock throbs from within you. you’re sure he’s about to paint them white. 

“shit . . . you don’t mean that.” 

“i do, rich. i want this.” 

you blink up at him, pleading with glassy eyes and the very pout that makes his heart throb. god, he wants to kiss you so messily right now. and that he does— closing in to slot his lips against yours, working his tongue down your mouth, and separating with a distinct pop! you moan against richter’s lips as his clutch on your waist intensifies. 

“you’ve gone ahead and finally drove me fucking crazy,” he thickly swallows, “you don’t know what you’ve just done to me, do you?” richter takes hold on both sides of your face, painless but firm. you mumble aloud what sounds like his name. he can’t be sure, as you’re muffled from the way his grasp is making your cheeks puff out. 

“oh, darling, you don’t.” richter seethes, knowing how you like it when he gets a little mean, “because if you did, you’d know that spewing that kind of shit will make me fuck you like a senseless animal,” his toned body is hunched over yours, eliminating any space there once was between you, “that i’d fill up this greedy little cunt until you’re overflowing with my cum,” his octave drops, tone dangerous, “that i wouldn’t be able to stop until we’ve both passed out on this goddamn bed.” 

“mmph, rich . . .” you weakly attempt, whining through your lips that he keeps pursed between his thumb and index that press into the fat of your cheeks. 

“what was that, love? you wanna be stuffed with my cum?” his tone is a mocking one, but you dumbly nod anyway. he mirrors the rocking motion of your head, amused with your desperation, “fuck yeah, you do. can feel you getting wetter at the thought of it.” 

you haven’t got it in you to feed into that typical banter with your boyfriend. you only want him to do just as he said and ‘fill you up.’ you're pawing at his bicep with one hand, and the other one clasps over the wrist of the hand he’s using to squish at your face. ‘want it,’ you start, fingers skimming across his arm, ‘so badly, rich!’ 

“fine, then. you’re such a needy thing,” he gives in, figuring you’ve endured just about enough of his teasing. richter holds himself by the base, and pulls back to trace your gaping hole with his cockhead. 

“you asked for this,” he pants out, “to be fucking bred.” 

just as before, his entrance is a smooth one; even if your grip on him is so taut that he can barely manage to move. you’re moaning again, aimlessly circling your hips in an attempt to match his movement. 

patterns repeat themselves— like richter’s desperation that always manifests itself through harsh rutting. his mind goes blank every time he’s encompassed by your sweet, warm pussy. he aches for it, for you, as though he wasn’t just indulging. he was this close to release just minutes ago. the sensitivity is still there, you notice from how his tip pulses from within you. he’s been holding out on himself, trying to make this count. 

richter dedicates the next several minutes to flipping and folding you into at least two different positions, bodies merging with a zealous haste. as always, the bed creaks and whines with every pivoted motion made upon it. nobody else is here to complain about it, so the noise is ignored rather than worried over. after all, there’s something gratifying about the sex being hard and thorough. 

there’s more fervor behind his loving this time, and it’s because he’s got the end in mind. yes, the finishing is what he anticipates; once he can finally, finally pump you full of all the cum he has to offer. and maybe— no, definitely, he’ll have you knocked up after it’s done.  

the prospect excites him more than it should; giving you a little bright-eyed belmont. richter’s always seen replenishing the sacred bloodline as a responsibility that only he alone holds. the very last one, he is. who else apart from him could return their clan to its original glory? 

a good amount of years ago, as richter can’t bring himself to remember a particular number, his mother would present him with countless tales of their infamous family. how they’d slay monsters of the night with the utmost ease, gifted with holy tools and magic of old passed down throughout the centuries. he wouldn’t like to admit how much it’s gotten to his head; or moreso, how important he sees it to expand the family tree. 

god willing, the pair of you will have babies, lots of babies, and mark the start of a new generation of vampyre slayers. it already helps that he loves to fuck you at any given chance. breeding you had always been lingering at the back of his mind, even back when the pair of you first coupled over ten months back . . . but he never really thought so deeply about it until you confessed your deep desire, and forced him to come to terms with his own. 

“thinkin’ of you pregnant,” he reveals, voice honest and vulnerable, “god, what a beautiful sight. my woman, all round and full with my love . . . ” 

“mm, that sounds— possessive,” you breathe out, body steadily rocking at the pace that richter’s set. you’re cracking your eyes open and sparing him a glance, just to see that he’s already staring back down at you. like you’re his everything, it seems. that twinkle in his eye is reserved for you only, and it makes you throb with want. 

“oh, i’m sure it does.” he doesn’t bring himself to deny it. he wants you marked by him in every possible way. for anyone to take a glance at your rounding belly months from now and just know that he touched you thoroughly and fucked you right. 

“but you should understand just how fortunate you are, baby,” he coos, “do you know how many bitches would kill for this seed you’re getting tonight? hm?” richter drones on, “you even sure you deserve it?” 

he knows full well that you do. if there’s any woman on god’s green earth that he wants to give all his love to, it’s indisputably you. he’s simply rousing you up, making you ‘earn’ it. the man likes to tease, and you can’t help but enjoy being on the receiving end. 

“well . . . you’re planning to give it to me, aren’t you?” even with him wrecking you, body sore and hair disarray, you're still able to check him. “i am,” he sighs, “and you’re gonna feel it all the way in here,” a large palm of his splays across your abdomen. from over your tummy, he feels the outline of his own cock, pressing in and sliding out before ramming it’s way back in again, courtesy of his rolling hips. 

it spurs him on to see that he doubles you in size, so much so that his dick leaves a bulge. richter bets that he’s stretching out your cunt in the nicest way— just look at how you’re taking it with hazy eyes and quivering legs. no wonder you want his cum so badly; because who else throughout all of goddamn machecoul could give you such good orgasms? which other man could possibly fill you up with such valuable seed? 

“i swear, m’gonna give you a baby,” is richter’s shaky promise, moaning throughout, and his cock throbs twice in a row. he’ll make you a carrier of the next generation of belmonts, he swears it. and oh, is he sure you’ll be an amazing mother. the thought makes his head buzz. he vividly pictures you, tender and swollen in the tummy and breasts, waddling around cutely due to carrying his very own child. he could cum just by thinking about it too hard . . . 

and he does.

“oh, god, i’m gonna— oh, fuck!” his balls constrict, his pelvis becomes tightly-strung, and before he knows it, he’s emptying his thick load inside of you. 

“yes, rich . . . give it to me,” you softly purr, allowing him to ease his weight onto you as he shudders from the high and his limbs go weak. from where he has his face smushed against your cushiony chest, he bites at your left breast while cumming some more. it spurts out in hot streams, accompanied by the twitching of his sensitive dick. he lazily humps against you, and a bit of semen seeps past your cunt, trickles down the length of him, and pours out onto the sheets beneath. you knew it’d be satiating to be filled to the brim. 

he feels like he could fall asleep right here atop of you. even with his head’s swimming in a thick cloud of lust, and though the aftermath of his climax lingers, he’s still able to deliver slow rubs to your little bud.

“hope you’re ready for another,” he reaches down between you and swiping his graceful fingers across it, “because we aren’t fucking done yet.”

you hardly get a chance to bask in how nicely he’s loaded your womb, or the delightful tingle he brings when playing with your clit. richter, always a step ahead, uses his small bit of remaining energy to sit upwards with his back to the bedpost, and hauls you onto him so that you’re straddled over him just the way he likes. he gets the best view of your jiggling boobs this way.

“of course you still have it in you,” you lightly laugh. given his endurance, richter’s usually able to maximize his stamina through plenty of rounds. “i also wouldn’t mind being filled a second time . . .” you set your forehead to rest against his, bringing up a hand to swipe hair away from his gorgeous face eyes, “i liked it.”

“and i loved it,” he’s quick to admit, “should’ve been finishing inside you long before now.”

you smile over his comment and wiggle your ass over his semi hard-on, growing stiffer with every sway of your breasts in his face. his hands are busy holding you from either side, so you go out of your way to stroke along his cum-dirtied cock, white dripping alongside it. he groans at your touch as you help him in finding your entrance. your mouth falls open when sinking down on him, and he rushes to lick and suck at your lips. for the third time tonight, he makes himself at home in your inviting cunt. 

and so, it begins again; his ceaseless tempo. your partner's grasp is hot and strong, pulling you off and slamming you back down onto him however he pleases. you cry out for more, and he’s capable of giving it to you, so he does. richter pistons up into you— out, in, out, in, molding you to shape the very curve of his veined cock. blush colored a fiery pink scatters his face from the apples of his cheeks to the tips of his ears. 

“again, richter,” you gasp out, “cum inside me again . . !” oh, just look at that. now he’s built you a rotten little addiction. from here on out, you’ll probably always be left craving the fulfillment gained from him dumping his load into your pussy. personally, he doesn’t mind sating you. if it eases your mind and satisfies your heart, of course. after all, he’s surely developed a new kink of his own after tonight.  

“oh, you’d want that, wouldn’t you, cockslut?” his fingers dip between your bodies to slide against your clit once more, “to let me impregnate you again, and again, and again . . .” he punctuates his sharp words with the lurch of his sturdy hips, knocking up into you until you’re jolting in his lap, breasts bouncing against his solid chest. 

he doesn’t mean to come across in an offish way, or sound so mean. it’s just that when he gets like this, with your warm body so pliant at his fingertips, his mouth just tends to . . . run. more than usual, he supposes. the belmont just says whatever comes to mind, no matter how vulgar. 

richter’s bright blue eyes follow the motion of your tits with every thrust. he slams in, hips pressed to you as close as it can get. he’s burrowed into you so deeply that his curly patch of dark pubes friction against your bundle of nerves. he’s twitching at the underside for every time your velvety walls suck him in further. you’re trying to milk him fucking dry, he believes. 

there’s only so much stimulation that the pair of you can take in one night alone. 

‘goddammit’ he grits out. before long, richter’s fucking you full of another stream of cum. his orgasm, hot and blinding, triggers your own; you’re creaming all over him, wetting his cock with the juices you squirt out. you’re sobbing out his name and shaking in his lap, so he holds you. a secure hand of his comes up and cradles your head to his chest, stroking your hair and calming your spent body, even as the orgasmic waves rush through you. 

a silence comes over his quaint little room, where the ambience was once intense with the steamy air of sex. a chill autumn breeze blows its way through the cracked-open window, cooling your sweat-sheen skin. his dusty-blue sheets are stained with all kinds of suggestive white fluids, and the bed has stopped making all that noise. 

you’re still placed over his thighs in the same straddling stance, one you both feel much too tired to get out of. he tries at maneuvering so he can lie on his back, with you motionlessly laid over him. your breathing is soft and winded, but your heart’s beating fast. he can feel it, with the way your chest is pressed to his own in this position. 

richter eventually slips out, and you whine once he leaves you. he peers down and groans at the spillage of his potent cum, pearly and warm, dripping from your messy little cunt in thick globs. ‘christ,’ he thinks, ‘it’s so fucking much.’  

he presses a kiss to your forehead, and it stirs you from the sleep you were just about to fall into. “what do you say to me, darling?” 

“hmm . . what?” after all those rounds, you’re not here mentally, and he knows it— he’s why. but with the light smirk his lips hold, you’re finally able to get it. he’s waiting for a: 

“t—thank you,” you murmur out, and he tsks.

“oh, c’mon, be specific. thank you for what?” 

he's simply insufferable. oh, but you love the man, so you'll let him have his way, just for tonight.

“thank you for . . giving me your cum, richter . . .”

he hums in what appears to be satisfaction. it sounds like the prettiest set of words when falling from your lips. he’d fuck you again if the both of you weren’t completely spent. 

richter brings a hand to support the back of his head, propping it up a little higher than the pillows can. you snuggle into him, face nuzzling against the firm comfort of his chest, and he throws his arm over your waist, feeling at the plush skin there with a wandering touch. 

his palm slides a bit further down, now planted gently against your stomach. it’ll start to grow in a little while, and get real big and plump with your baby fostering inside. maybe they’ll have your nose and complexion, with his eyes and attitude . . . he lets a grin overtake his lips, feeling more than accomplished. 

“you’re a lucky fucking woman,” richter coos, hand lovingly rubbing over your tummy, “you’re gonna be carryin’ belmont blood now.”

tags go out to . . . ౨ৎ ₊ ⊹ @blushfwul @springmarcheson @missmagicalprincess @kaennih-skitlles @divin3bloodlines! hope y’all enjoyed, mwuah! ❤︎

©𝑃ℐ𝒩𝒦ℳℐℛ𝒯ℋ! — all rights reserved! do not steal, plagiarize or repost any of my works. please and thank you! ౨ৎ

#𝜗𝜚 ⋆ ࣪ ˖ 𝐵ℐℒℒℰ𝒯 𝒟𝒪𝒰𝒳.ᐟ #𝓂𝓎 𝓁ℴ𝓋ℯ 𝓈𝓉ℴ𝓇𝒾ℯ𝓈.ᐟ #❥ — richter! #richter belmont #richter #richter belmont smut #castlevania #castlevania nocturne #castlevania netflix #richter x reader #richter belmont x reader #castlevania smut #castlevania nocturne smut #castlevania x reader #castlevania x you #castlevania richter #— (castlevania!) #— (castlevania: nocturne!) #౨ৎ — 𝓂𝓎 𝓁ℴ𝓋ℯ 𝓈𝓉ℴ𝓇𝒾ℯ𝓈! #anime smut #x reader #anime x reader #x black reader #black reader #fanfic #fanfiction

[voidwerks]

So I've been playing Dwarf Fortress (a lot) lately, and this dwarf has accomplished a superhuman feat.

Marching his happy ass down to the second cavern level, which I've barely secured, he insisted on picking up a rock. A rock sitting in a flowing stream. Flowing directly into the next cavern level, 10 floors down. Unsurprisingly, Kikrost proceeded to get swept down the stream, fell 10 floors and hit a mushroom tree, destroying his right hand. In defiance of physics, the gods, and dwarven physiology, he proceeded to scale the ten floors of cavern wall back up with ONE HAND, and then waddled his way to the hospital for treatment.

I need to make this man a statue or something

#dwarf fortress

[radiance1]

(Cha'll know Hornet from Hollow Knight? Yea, she inspired me for this along with her song recently made by Man on the Internet.)

Danny's reveal went wrong. His parents operated and experimented on him until his body couldn't take it anymore, and, well.

He died on that operating table.

Jack and Maddie weren't immediately concerned, really, since it's just a ghost. They weren't, at least, until that ghost transformed back into their son.

They were far too stunned to properly process it. Their son was phantom, their son was the ghost they spent a while chasing through the streets of their town and hunting.

They killed their own son on an operating table.

When Jazz found out she, well she wasn't pleased. At all. She screamed at them, tears streaming down her face when she found out her brother was dead. The brother she spent raising in her parents place, the brother who went out and risked himself fighting ghosts for the town, her little brother.

She couldn't take it anymore, couldn't deal with them anymore. She had a friend over a Gotham, a very good friend who would let her crash for a while at their place until she could get back on her feet. So she packed her things and left Amity Park and her parents behind.

The Fenton's were racked with guilt, because they killed their own son and the last damn thing he saw was them operating on him. They had to make this right.

They never really, truly, dabbled in genetic engineering much. But they could goddamn learn, they were smart enough for it. They built and put Danny in a pod to keep his body from either melting or decomposing, they never could tell which would happen after learning of his unique biology and got to work.

Their first try at cloning him was a failure. The clone barely lasted a second before melting away into a puddle of unusable ectoplasm and DNA. Their second clone had the same effect, so did their third, fourth, fifth, sixth.

It was incredibly harder than they first thought to clone the unique biology of a halfa. But they couldn't, wouldn't, give up. They had to do this, they had to right what they did wrong.

It took 4 years for them to engineer the 'perfect' clone. 4 years in which they haven't left their home, 4 years in which they haven't seen their daughter, 4 years of trying to atone for what they did, and they finally did it.

Subject 'Omega' was built to last. Superhuman durability, superhuman healing, unable to physically age. Everything they could think of that allowed it to not die they engineered into it.

They couldn't clone his ghostly abilities, would make it too unstable, it would have to develop such things on its own. They couldn't clone his memories either, but it was ok, they could make new ones!

Subject 'Omega' was released from its pod and unlike the other failures, it didn't melt into a puddle as soon as it left the pod, nor a few minutes or hours after. They kept it around for a day, fully ready for it to destabilize and be regarded as a failure, but blessedly it didn't.

They then kept their son's body in that room, putting it on full lock down and ensuring that it could never get in.

They finally succeeded in making the perfect clone. One almost exactly like their son, stuck between life and death, black hair, blue eyes the whole shebang. Sure, he didn't have the memories or the abilities that Phantom possessed, but it was fine.

They had to treat it properly, raise it right, even. Teach it all they knew, take care of it properly, that's what parents did right? Sure, maybe it wasn't as perfect as it should have been, missing memories, missing abilities, for example.

But they still loved it regardless!

It was unable to transform into Phantom. It had ghostly abilities, yes, but it was fully stuck as just Fenton, they didn't get it, they made him as perfect as could be why couldn't it just do that-

Did they miss something? Was there a problem with its design? The missing memories they could attribute to themselves, the abilities they could write off as having been replaced by the abilities they built into it to make it last taking priority over pre-installing the ghost abilities.

But this.

THIS.

WHY COULDN'T IT JUST DO THIS ONE, SIMPLE THING!? THEY MADE IT RIGHT, NOTHING SHOULD HAVE GONE WRONG, IT SHOULD BE CAPABLE OF DOING THIS.

But it was ok, it was fine, sure he didn't have the ability that Danny should have. But it was ok, they still loved him even if he wasn't perfect, they told him so all the time.

Everything is ok.

----

Subject Omega, or Danny, as he was told his name was. Loved his parents quite a lot, or at least he's been told he loves them. He didn't have any memories of them, nor of this house, nor of that girl in the pictures, but he was told it didn't matter.

He was told he had Amnesia, that it was so bad he couldn't remember any of his memories before today. They were his parents, parents who loved him with all of their might, this house was their house that he's lived in since he was born and the girl in the pictures was his sister.

He asked where she was, they said she left, he asked why, he didn't get an answer. He didn't question it, really, it was intriguing to know who she was, but his parents didn't want to share and a good boy doesn't ask questions that his parents don't want to answer!

Apparently, he was what his parents called a Halfa, a hybrid between a human and a ghost and he had the abilities to prove it. The standard ghost powers of Intangibility, invisibility and flight, with his own ability to form ectoplasm into string, or silk (he had them whispering about that, but it was probably nothing of concern) along with a numerous amount of abilities either related to durability or healing.

He was confused when they asked him to 'Go Ghost', because he didn't know what or how to do that. They showed him some audio, apparently something they had to hack through a lot of cameras to even find, of him shouting "Going ghost!" and what they believe to be him then transforming into another version of himself with white hair and green eyes they called 'Phantom'.

He tried it out, they seemed hopeful, he didn't want to disappoint them. But he couldn't do it, they urged him to try again and again when he failed over and over. He was worried he was disappointing them, but he told them he just couldn't do it.

He was scared, of how they reacted to. His mother screamed at him for why he couldn't just do this one simple thing, the thing he was supposed to do, while his father grabbed onto his arm and dragged him to his room. He couldn't feel physical pain, or much of it so his parents told him, but he had the idea that it should hurt.

He was told to never leave his room until he could figure out how to go ghost, and then the door was slammed shut in his face. He tried to do it, he really tried too! Even forgoing sleep to try and go ghost repeatedly.

It turned morning, and he still couldn't do it. He wasn't even tired, so he could continue trying until he got it right! But then a knock came from his door and his mother came through, he was preparing to apologies when she just told him to come down for breakfast and said she loved him.

He, didn't know what to feel about that.

he questioned his parents about it, a while after he came downstairs. But they acted confused, asking if he had a bad dream or something of the like, so he hesitantly recounted what happened and his mother just hugged him. Telling him that they would never do that because they loved him far too much to yell at him and treat him that way.

So, maybe he did just have a bad dream and nothing happened.

He was glad for it, too.

He didn't go to school, they pulled him from school because of his accident and decided to homeschool him. He had a lot to learn, really, all the stuff from inventing, mathematics and fighting from them!

He loved it! Really, he did! Sure, some of the stuff made him brain hurt from so much knowledge crammed into his head, but he was getting better at Martial Arts! He got so good at both that he even got a gift! A giant needle sword thing that was supposed to go hand in hand with his thread and such!

He didn't have anything else to be learnt, but he wasn't allowed to go outside, so he just stayed home really. It was just the three of them here, and it was his whole world.

One day his parents went out, which wasn't unusual as of recent, so he took to refining his technique with the needle, he could go on for hours and not feel the barest of fatigue, that's how it always was said his parents. But when they came back, they seemed, different, it was a subtle thing, but they seemed paler.

They were also a bit panicked, telling him not to go outside (not that they let him) and then going down into their lab to do something. He was curious about it, but didn't mind it, he knew his parents probably didn't want to worry him about something, so he just lost himself into refining his technique.

Over the passage of a few weeks his parents kept going out and then coming back into their lab, carrying samples of something. They never told him what it was, so he didn't bother asking, it seemed very important, so he shouldn't bother them.

Even if they seemingly had less time for him and more for whatever they had down in the lab.

Over those weeks his parents seemed to become ill, he didn't know what it was, but they seemed to have contracted something. Sometimes they came back covered in blood, sometimes coughing, or injured.

One day they didn't come back up from the lab, and Danny left them there because he didn't want to disturb them. He had to refine his technique after incorporating string after all.

Another week passed, and his parents still didn't come back up, he was worried, extremely so. So he sneaked down into the lab, he was prepared for being punished or shouted at for doing so, but he just needed to know if they were ok.

They weren't.

The first sign was a terrible smell of rot, the first repugnant thing he's ever smelt oddly enough. The second was the smell of iron, and the third was seeing his parents' bodies lying on the ground, blood splattered from their mouths.

He didn't understand why they were just lying there, why blood came from their mouths or why a terrible smell came from them. Maybe they were napping? A weird place to do so.

So he tried dragging upstairs and putting them on the couch or in their beds. Which he managed to do after a while, putting them to put and covering them with sheets, then went down back to the lab.

Because there was a newly opened door his parents had opened, and he was curious, and it didn't look like they were gonna wake up soon so surely, he could take a peek.

He didn't know what he expected, but seeing himself in a pod wasn't it.

Then he found out that he was a clone. A clone of the original, dead Danny and there were hundreds upon hundreds of other failed clones. He didn't know how to take it, apparently his original was hero, a hero they hunted down and killed because he was a ghost, and the only reason they made him was because they didn't realize and killed their son.

He wanted to march up there and demand an explanation, but he was scared, scared of how they would react if he were to bring it up. They killed their own, true son, so why wouldn't they just kill him and continue cloning too?

They left the way to lock this section of the lab in one of their entries, so he locked it and left, waiting for them to wake up.

Except, they never did.

Then a while later some people entered his house unannounced, clearing through the house. They asked him if he knew where his parents were, and he took them to their bedroom. they said his parents were dead, and then completely disregarded him after and went down into his parents' lab and took basically everything they could get their hands on, including his parents' prized Ghost Portal.

He couldn't stop them, too busy trying to process the fact his parents died, and he didn't know.

Awhile passed and he went outside, seeing the town basically abandoned for some reason. He saw no one but those men for a while, people he later learned to be some government agents.

And just like that the town he was in became the testing ground for the government to dump their failed experiments, either too hostile or not what they wanted.

More so the former than the later.

The original Danny protected this town, was a hero and stopped ghosts. There weren't many ghosts around here anymore, at least the humanoid ones his predecessor fought off, but there were the ghosts of animal's or experiments who kicked the bucket, and then there was the experiments who were still alive and wandering the town, extremely violent and animals that got mutated from some kind of chemical those ghosts dumped around town.

Probably another failed experiment.

So, he decided that just like the original he would try and protect this town, from the government, from the failed experiments, from the mutated animals, from the ghosts of experiments and animals long dead. He would preserve this place to the best of his ability, it was the only thing he could do now.

And just like that, 5 years passed. 5 years of fighting off experiments and beasts with his nail and thread, 5 years of zero human contact, 5 years of just fighting and surviving and honing his skills.

And then, one day. A group of people came to his town, not the government, he could tell when they were coming. No, this was a group of different, newer, people.

People he had to dig through his memories to find, because he only saw one article on them before his parents switched him to a server they made for him.

The Wayne's were in his forgotten town for some reason, and with them was the girl he saw in the original's family photos, he didn't know her name, but he knew she was the original's sister. He would watch and wait, see what they do, and if he determined them to be a threat.

Well.

Threats to this town have to be eliminated.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc prompt #dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt #dc x dp crossover #I don't know what to tag this with. #I think I made this too long #Meh #Enjoy!

[tteokdoroki]

☆༉ — KATSUKI BAKUGOU. in every other universe.

about. “in every other universe, gwen stacey falls for spiderman. and in every other universe, it doesn’t end well.” - inspired by this bkg art @/kingkatsuki sent me and by self love.

warnings. none. fluff, slight angst, happy ending, across the spiderverse spoilers, spiderverse!bakugou & fem!reader.

once you know that you’re not the only one out there — it’s hard to go back to your regular life. not everyone can do the things that katsuki bakugou can do, you know, shoot webs, fight crime and save the day. it’s isolating. it’s lonely. he knows that he should feel blessed, it’s not every day that you’re given superhuman abilities and the power to change the world.

some days the truth about his identity, the words ‘i’m spiderman.’ sit eagerly on the tip of his tongue — desperate to be pushed out into open and heard by the people he loves. his mom, his dad, even his stupid roommate, kirishima. but if bakugou burdens them with the truth, then he puts them at risk too. losing his childhood friend deku had been more than enough, he couldn’t lose someone else too.

other days he remembers there are others just like him, dotted across the universe in their own connections and constellations — there’s his mentor, there’s his friends… there’s you.  it’s been a year since your world’s were once able to collide and bakugou has tried (and failed) to move on from you and devote himself to saving the day. your smile, your eyes, your drive, your bravery — he would be stupid to purposely forget all of that. 

he’s also a little weird for kicking back in his desk chair, mindlessly spinning around his dorm room (after patching himself up where katsuki had just gotten his ass kicked) thinking about the curve of your lips and how your voice sounds when you speak…

“hey katsuki! katsuki… wanna hangout?” 

in surprise, the blonde tips backwards in his seat, bakugou’s back hitting the floor with a harsh thud that causes pain to blossom somewhere along his shoulder blades. “what the fuck?” he grunts through a stream of colourful curses. he must be imagining things. crushing too hard on someone he’s not supposed to ever be able to see again. you can’t be here. it’s not physically possible. 

but through his searing pain and frustrated hisses, bakugou manages to crack a ruby red eye open — letting his gaze bare witness to the swirling, bright portal in his ceiling and the girl he’s still hung up over just peeking through. 

he really has to watch out for those punches to the head — he’s going insane.

“what the actual fuck?” 

amused laughter streams from between your lips, muffled slightly by the signature piece of a spider-person’s consume. you pull back the mask of your spider-suit which don the colours of your universe and grin. bright and beautiful. it makes bakugou’s heart squeeze in his chest. “dang, you kiss your mother with that mouth?” you tease, letting the web that holds you up sink further out of the portal until you’re hanging just above the foul-mouthed blonde. “good to see you too, hot shot.”

“what— how are y’even here?” bakugou sits up, fighting the twitches in his face and the real meaning to words on the tip of his tongue. i missed you. 

your face tells the story he longs too, your pretty eyes nostalgic and warm. you’ve missed him as well. “oh you know, just thought i’d swing by.” 

“that was fuckin’ terrible.”

“come on, katsuki, you liked it.” i like you. is what he really wants to say back.

he can practically feel your breathy laughter on his lips and taste your vanilla perfume. hanging upside down and in front of him is way too compromising of a position — he might kiss you if he’s not careful.

“fuckin’ dumbass.” bakugou puts a hand on your face and uses it to push you away before you can get any closer. you lose your balance, coming crashing down from the ceiling once your web snaps and the portal closes. he’s quick to crawl over to you, not evening thinking about boundaries or space… not when there’s been entire universes and timelines between you up until this moment. “shit, you okay? forgot how clumsy you were.” 

he utters fondly, mostly under his breath — in a way that’s impossible to miss with how bakugou leans over you. his face full of bursting concern. you don’t dare to move, taking in said face. observing how much it’s changed since you were last on earth-420. how his eyes are harder, less youthful but still wild. how his lips look softer, fuller — you wonder what chapstick he’s been using. how his chin is stronger and his face more defined and his nose slightly shifted and—

“you’re no different than before, still a meanie.” you quip, voice wistful. quiet. “you grew out your hair.” reaching up, you brush your fingers over the soft tips of his ash blonde locks — closing your eyes at the feel of them, as if you’re basking in sunlight. 

“yeah.” bakugou hums. “yours is different too.” 

“you think? do you like it?” 

“‘f’course.” he keens into your touch as it cascades down to his cheeks. “you always look good.” 

“you haven’t seen me in a while.”  

“doesn’t mean i don’t think about you.” 

“ah…me too.” 

“y’think about me?” 

a beat of silence passes and you don’t speak for a while. you’re both afraid you might hear each other’s hearts racing. “ever since i jumped back into that collider.” rolling out from underneath katsuki, you sit up with your back to him and fiddle with your spandex mask. “let’s go for a swing.” 

you’re up and throwing open his dorm window before bakugou can even register — leaving him to deal with his erratic pulse and pink kissed cheeks. it’s crazy how time apart made him only want you more. how he can’t have you because you’re not even meant to be here, even if there’s some kind of gravitational force from the universe pulling you together. when you don’t hear him coming after you, you turn to face him from the window ledge — he can see the longing even in the reflective lenses of your suit. 

“you coming?” 

bakugou’s entire body screams at him to say yes, every fibre of his being itching to be with you. but his one fatal flaw keeps him rooted in place on his knees. he can’t hurt you. can't tell you his feelings knowing he’ll never have a way of acting on them. 

“can’t, got homework.” he shrugs, feigning nonchalance. “i’m a college kid now, remember?” 

he can already tell that you’re rolling your eyes from under the mask even when you shrug back — tipping yourself out of the window, knowing that he’ll chase you. bakugou watches you, half amused, half annoyed as you stand up straight and defy all laws of everything by sticking to the side of his dorm building. 

“does Spider-Man have homework?”

all he can do is shake his head at you. both in amusement and in disbelief.

talking to you eases all the tension katsuki bakugou’s shoulders bare. 

it’s easy to be with you because you understand what it’s like to be alone in protecting the people you love and the communities you care about. hiding your face and cowering away from friends and family in the real world — every day life. you get why wearing the mask is both a blessing and a curse. it cost you your mother’s love. it cost you your home. and now you surf through universes to find your place amongst the other spider people that exist… and yet, katsuki, as you confess — is the only one to bring you comfort. 

whilst swinging and soaring through the streets of katsuki’s city, you tell him all of the nitty gritty details. no one wants a vigilante for a daughter. he holds his tongue in telling you that he wants you instead. you giggle when you explain to him all the worlds you’ve seen and people you’ve met through being apart of this elite spider-team. and when bakugou asks how a pipsqueak like you managed to get in before he did — you cock your head to the side innocently and say…

“you’re an asshole, katsuki. we can’t have you clashing with the number one in charge.”

bakugou has to pull his mask up to breathe while he laughs — snorting so hard that he almost misses a stride while swinging through the sunset-stained streets with you. by the time golden hour sets it’s sights upon you both, he’s taken you to the highest point in musutafu to watch the sun disappear beyond the horizon. 

when the world gets him down — katsuki comes up here to think and clear his head of any doubts that might be holding him back. it’s peaceful up here, away from the crime cracking on below and the bustling mundane city traffic. often times, he thinks of you too…so sharing this spot with you by his side is extremely intimate to him.

you’re talking but bakugou will admit he’s not really listening, too entranced by the shapes your lips form around each word, at least until you say his name. “you’re the only one who’s ever, truly got me, katsuki.” you tell him, swinging your feet off the ledge of the building. if you fall, your instincts would catch you…but you know katsuki would be the first to save you. 

“could say the same thing about you.” he admits, the burnt orange spider crest on his chest heaving with bakugou’s nervous sigh. he pinches at the black latex suit covering his fingers — debating on inching his hand closer to yours.

if you notice, you don’t say anything about it. “in every other universe, spiderman gets the girl.” katsuki swallows as you speak, ruby eyes darting all over your pretty face outlined by warm tone natural lights — your masks long discarded. “and in every other universe…it doesn’t end well. for either of them.”

you don’t bother finishing your sentence, swallowing the lump in your throat along with the fate you might meet if you lean into your greed to be with katsuki. it’s only then that you notice his hand slipping away, retreating behind the wall he builds up around himself — to keep himself closed off and protected from getting hurt. 

“i wish i could change that.” he mumbles distantly, looking out at the world, the universe as if he’s been scorned. cursed by the mask once more. it’s like the stars have turned against him and are mocking him as they come out to play — reminding bakugou that everyone he’s ever loved will get hurt because of him…eventually. everyone including you. “prove ‘em wrong, yanno?” 

even still, he offers you his signature lazy smirk and twinkling mischievous red eyes and you can’t help but fall for him all over again. 

“yeah,” comes your soft reply. “maybe there’s a chance that things can work out.” 

“a first time for everythin’, yeah?”

this time, neither of you pull back as your head comes to rest on his shoulder. 

for a moment, the world stills. freezing time for the only two people in the universe may truly understand one another. 

freezing, for you and katsuki. 

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou fluff #bakugo x reader #bakugo x you #bakugou angst #bakugou imagine #bakugo drabble #bakugo imagine #bakugo fluff #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki fluff #bakugo angst #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha fluff #bnha angst #mha x reader #mha fluff #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki

[mothyandthesquid]

I think I may be experiencing near normal hearing for the first time in my life thanks to the NHS. These are seven generations and 16 years more up to date than the 1st gen digital aids I was using until two days ago, and they are also tuned to my current hearing loss rather than what I had 12 years ago. Since putting them in my ears I have had innumerable remarkable experiences entirely new to me and of such depth I have been brought to happy tears.

I have heard my children’s voices in all their beautiful nuances, I have discovered classical music, I have watched TV without needing subtitles, and realised that the uneven gaps between songs whilst streaming music is not a connectivity issue - there is actually sound there. I’ve been to a lecture and understood every word without effort, I’ve listened to birds, and I’ve also discovered people convey subtle emotion through voice that I was previously unable to detect.

I’ve also been asked to describe what it was like to my philosophy class and found myself lacking the words to explain to hearing people what it is like to enter their world as a novel experience. Since then, I’ve been trying to figure out analogies. So, imagine you have contact lenses that made your vision tetrachromic while you were wearing them or a drug that gave you a high heightening one of your senses to superhuman levels while it was in your system. Either of these would surely be a magical experience.

I am super excited about all the things I am now going to be able to hear in the future. I want to listen to all the things! That’s something I never thought I’d say. Unaided, people’s voices are partially audible for me and I must work hard to make up the difference. With my old aids, they became more comprehensible but also unpleasant and almost painful to listen to, so I hated wearing them. Now, they are the most interesting type of sound.

The underfunding of the NHS has, obviously, imposed years of unnecessary disability upon me through neglect and out-dated technology. Some say money can’t buy happiness, but it can buy hearing aids and similar cool things for disabled people. If you have one, use your vote wisely.

#mothyandthesquid #hearing aids #hard of hearing #deafness #deaf #nhs #disability #disabled

[talewrites]

Fragile Part 7

Sorry for the wait! It was hard to focus while writing this chapter, so I might be editing it for mistakes here and there. I hope you like it! :] <3

Generation: Bayverse TMNT

Tmnt x Reader Fanfic

Pronouns: Gender Neutral (except ‘dudette’, 'miss', and ‘princess’)

Warnings: injury, broken limbs, violence, drowning, not proof read

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

You were laying dazed on the cold metal floor. In too much pain to focus on anything else besides breathing. You heard a commotion, voices muffled through the thick glass. At least inside this tube they couldn’t touch you anymore. Your mind strayed to the turtles. You weren’t able to save them. You weren’t able to do anything. You just hope they can somehow get away safely. That April and Casey can somehow save them.

“I won’t ask again…. Where’s (y/n).” Leo growled. He grit his teeth as he lowered his stance, ready to strike.

Baxter Stockman was quickly typing commands into the program on his computer. Karai stepped in front of him and drew her katana.

“Out of your reach, Turtles.” 

“Aaaaand, there!” Stockman hit one last key on this computer and a red light started to flash on the tank, bringing the turtle’s attention to the crumpled form inside the glass. At the same time a multitude of files and programs started closing on the screen one after another, Stockman’s signature digital self-destruct program. Baxter stepped away from his computer and lifted his arms up triumphantly.

The sound of rattling pipes overhead catches your attention. 

“Ha! You’re too late, Turtles. For years, the Foot Clan has sought out the means to fight you mutants on equal footing. And now, we have our secret weapon! An endless supply of pure mutagen!!!” 

You heard a loud beeping sound, then a click, and the squeak of metal.

A gush of icy water pours down on you from above. The sudden cold shocks you and marginally distracts you from the pain. You pull yourself to the edge of the glass away from the heavy stream of water coming down from above, slowly starting to fill the base. You take a shaky deep breath and bang a fist on the glass. No use. Dizzy and numb, you look outside the tank for someone, something, anything that might help you. That’s when you see them.

And with dawning horror, they see you.

“Guys….?” You press your wet hand up against the glass. They’re here! They’re safe!!!

“(Y/n)....? (Y/N)!!!!” Leo shouts and lunges towards the tank. He tries to rush up to the glass but Rocksteady blocks his path. There’s blood on your cheek, and even a good distance away he can tell you’re in bad shape. 

“OUT OF OUR WAY!” Raph roared at Bebop and Rocksteady, crossing his sai in preparation for a fight.

“Uuuh hey guys? Why is (y/n) in a giant fish bowl…?” Mikey asked, nunchucks at the ready.

“They ain’t comin’ out anytime soon, short stack.” Bebop said with an evil grin. 

“You turtles totally fell for our trap!” Rocksteady chuckled.

Donnie immediately noticed the computer hooked up to the tank’s controls. He tried to subtly sneak past Bebop to get to Stockman but Karai stepped forward and blocked his path.

Karai pointed her sword at Donnie. “The Foot will be unstoppable.”

“And I will FINALLY get the recognition I deserve, for single-handedly creating an entire race of superhumans that will rule over the city!!!” 

“You’re crazy!! You don’t even know what kind of side effects that mutation will have on regular humans!” Donnie activated the electricity at the end of his bo staff, ready to fight Karai to get to Stockman. 

“I do have to thank you turtles for activating their mutant gene. Without your help, none of this would be possible!” Stockman’s laugh echoed through the large room. He waltz over to the canister filling up with the distilled mutagen from your blood. “We originally got (y/n) by a…. foreseeable mistake. But to our surprise, they survived where others had failed. And yet- their results were incomplete. Their animal DNA wasn’t materializing no matter what we did to them. So we came back to New York, where the population could supply us with countless more test subjects.” Baxter said cheerfully, popping the lid off the canister. “But now that we have the results we wanted, we have no need of them! We can preserve (y/n)’s body in a special chemical compound that will put them into a permanent hibernation. No need to worry, their body will be harnessed for science!” Stockman’s laugh was deep and evil, and to everyone’s shock-

He dumped the canister of mutagen over his own head.

Karai lept back out of the trajectory of the splash. Baxter’s laugh increased in volume as he began to morph and change. His head and eyes grew large, his body shrank, little papery wings sprouted from his back, and he mutated into a giant mutant fly. 

Bebop and Rocksteady were stunned by the transformation. “Eeeeewwww… he turned into a bug?” Bebop whined.

“Nasty!” Rocksteady shook his head. Neither of them were paying attention to the turtles so Raph and Donnie covered for Leo and Mikey to make a break for the tank you were in. By now it had filled enough that you were starting to float.

“We’re here babe! We’re gonna get you out!” Mikey reassured you. 

You whimpered helplessly. You were having a hard time keeping your head above water, not really able to swim with a broken dislocated arm and broken ankle. 

“Stay back!” Leo sliced at the glass, and Mikey hit it with his nunchucks as hard as he could, but their attacks barely left a scratch!

“Guys! We have incoming!” Donnie yelled as Stockman had started flying around the room, maniacally laughing as he swooped down and kicked the back of Mikey’s shell, almost knocking him over. 

“Dude, gross!” Mikey protested. Stockman looked to be drooling some kind of acid substance from his mouth.

Bebop and Rocksteady had recovered and started to charge towards them. Leo and Mikey had to jump away from your tank to avoid getting trampled. 

“Donnie, that glass is as hard as steel!!” Leo jumped up and kicked Rocksteady across his cheek, then retreated.

“What’re we gonna do? (Y/n)’s tank is already half full!” Raph shouted. He was using his sai to hold back Bebop’s tusks as he tried to charge them. 

You were doing your best to calm your breathing enough that you could float, but every time your head ducked below water you panicked. Your body was exhausted and protested against your desperate movements, but you needed to survive long enough for the boys to break you out.

“Donnie! See if you can turn off the water!!! I’ve got Karai.” Leo ordered

“Mikey! It’s you and me!” Raph called over, clanging his sai together and shouted a war cry running up to strike Rocksteady. 

“What?! What about the bug brained dude??!! Eep!” Mikey ducked as Stockman flew over his head. He looked down and realized he was kneeling at the feet of Bebop, who had taken the black taser out of his pocket.

“You wanna taste too, little man?” 

When Bebop flicked on the taser, Mikey saw the small stains of fresh blood on the pointed tips that buzzed with electricity. He looked back over to you struggling in the tank and how heavily injured you looked.

He saw red.

Mikey had a rare moment of true anger as he jumped to his feet and knocked the taser out of Bebop’s hand with his nunchucks, and in a flurry of rapid hits he beat back the warthog. He finished him off with a powerful roundhouse kick to the head.

“THAT’S WHAT YOU GET FOR MESSING WITH MY BAE!” He shouted triumphantly.

Raph looked back to Mikey with wide eyes, proud of his little bro for letting loose. “Woah. Way to go Mikey!” He ducked a hit from Rocksteady and punched him hard under his chin. Knocking him out cold. 

Leo was crossing swords with Karai. She was a skilled fighter. But he was much stronger than her. While he pushed her back with a heavy strike, she slipped on some of the mutagen that had spilled on the floor, allowing Leo to take advantage of the opening and disarmed her. He flicked her sword out of her hand and knocked her back. She glared daggers at him, quickly recovering. But seeing as Bebop and Rocksteady were knocked out, she opted for a tactical retreat.

“This is just the beginning.” She hissed and ran out of the lab door. 

Stockman was buzzing around your tank, still laughing maniacally. 

“You turtlezzzzz cannot defeat the mighty Dr Stockman!! I am invincible!! I am-“

Donnie turned on the taser at the end of his bo staff and vaulted it at the annoying human insect, striking him and electrocuting him, knocking him out of the air to fall on the floor with a gross splat.

“Good thing I always carry a bug zapper.” He deadpanned.

Donnie went back to trying to hack into Stockmans computer. He managed to get past the firewall with his hacking program, but he discovered that all of the interfaces connected to the tank control had been erased. 

There was no way to stop the tank from filling up completely. Donnie would have to write a whole new interface from scratch to control the tank.

There was no time.

You were running out of air, trying desperately to keep your head above water as the tank was almost full to the top. You took in one last deep breath just as the water consumed the last of the space. You held your good hand over your mouth and nose hard, trying to hold in the air, and floated down towards the bottom of the tank. 

No more air.

“(Y/N)!!!” 

“ANGEL CAKES!!!” Donnie and Mikey yelled out in panic.

Your eyes snapped open, hearing their muffled voices outside the tank. You swam over to the glass and met eyes with Raphael. He had picked a spot and began punching at the glass over and over again with his sai in his fists.

The needled jabs just managed to scratch the surface. 

You looked at him sadly through the glass. He was stressed, sweating and desperate to break through. Mikey had grabbed a chair and had chucked it at the glass from another spot but it just bounced off and broke on the floor.

Leo was standing behind Donnie with his hand on his shoulder, but his eyes didn’t leave your face. 

Time was running out. You were choking on the stale air in your lungs. Head getting dizzy from lack of oxygen. You removed your hand from your mouth and pressed it up to the glass, some bubbles of air escaping your mouth. Your eyebrows knit together to concentrate on not breathing in the fluid in the tank. But you were suffocating and in pain. 

It was hard.

You looked back up at Raph, and forced a smile on your face. You felt sad. You didn’t want them to see you like this. They felt so far away. 

Darkness was consuming your vision. The last remaining bubbles of air escaped from your mouth and your eyes slipped closed. 

“NO!!! NO-! (Y/N), STAY WITH US.” Raph pounded his fist hard against the glass. 

“DAMN IT.” Donnie frustratingly slammed his fist down next to the keyboard, his head falling into his hands. None of the lines of command coding he was typing in were working.

Leo left Donnie’s side and strode up to the tank.

“Move.” Leo ordered as he came up behind Raph. He unsheathed his swords and began slicing at the glass again. It was barely making a scratch. But combined with the small dents Raph had been making, he was slowly chipping away at the surface.

“Leo! If you can manage to cut 1.2 centimeters deep, it should weaken the glass enough to shatter with enough force!” Donnie yelled from where he was still furiously typing into the stationed keyboard. His attempts to unlock the system all in vain. 

Leo and Raph worked together to stab and slice at the weakest point in the glass until finally-

*crack*

A small fracture appeared in the glass. 

“There!!” Donnie called out. Raph and Leo switched to charging at the door and ramming it full force with their shoulders. Over and over as the cracks grew wider and wider.

Mikey came over, and with a hand on Leo’s shoulder, the leader stepped aside to let his little brother help. Mikey joined Raph and rammed the glass again with such force the crack split all the way across the glass. One more strike-

The glass shattered on impact.

The gush of water that burst through swept Mikey and Raph off their feet. The floor of the lab flooded, and your body washed up on the floor. Lifeless and unmoving.

“(Y/N)!!!!!!” The boys all yelled. 

Leo reached you first, falling into a kneel at your side. He ripped out the two needles from your back and held you in his arms. Donnie rushed over and slid down into the other spot at your side, his goggles pulled into place as he quickly checked you over.

“They’re not breathing. Put them down flat, now.” Leo obeyed and laid you on your back. Donnie first pressed down on your diaphragm to check for water blocking your lungs, then began compressions. 

The room was dead quiet all except for the sounds of Donnie’s whispered counting as he pressed down on your chest. He paused, opened your mouth, pinched your nose, and breathed into your lungs. 

Mikey was nervously walking around you back and forth, and Raph watched you from a distance, a vacant expression as he watched your face for any sign of movement, pleading with himself for you to be okay. 

After what felt like an eternity, you coughed. Leo quickly rolled you lay on your side. You spit up water, gasping for air. You felt like you were coughing up a lung full of ethanol. 

Mikey cheered and Raph took a deep breath, covering his face with his hands. Donnie fell backwards onto his butt and pulled his goggles off his head, so incredibly relieved you were breathing. Leo rubbed your back comfortingly as you got your breathing back under control.

Once you got a suitable amount of oxygen back in your lungs, you whimpered. Your throat was burning and a pain in your stomach and chest made it hard to breathe.

Leo picked you up again, and held you close to his chest. Your eyes fluttered open and you winced at the bright light from the ceiling.

“Welcome back.” Leo said with a smile on his face.

“Leo…?” Your voice was quiet and scratchy. You looked around at Donnie, Mikey, and Raph that all came into view around you and Leo.

“Guys….?” You felt barely conscious. Head foggy and tired like you were under water.

“We’re right here.” Donnie assured you, reaching down to pick up your good hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

All the fear and emotion of drowning and being captured suddenly crashed down on you all at once. You sniffed and big tears gathered in your eyes.

“I was… so scared… I thought I was going to lose you….!” You hiccuped and sobbed as Leo held your trembling form tightly against his chest.

“Shhhh, it’s okay. I’m here. We got you.” Leo soothed, rubbing his hand down your back. He buried his nose into your damp hair and held you tight.

“You had us worried there for a minute!” Donnie was smiling at you, soft and relieved. Mikey was standing behind him rubbing tears out of his eyes.

“Let’s get you home.” Raph said, kneeling down behind you. 

“Wait. I need to splint their arm and their ankle first. Mikey, can you find me some-“

*crack*

“Will this work?” 

Mikey had already broken off the thin legs of a chair across the room. 

“Yeah that works fine.” He pulled out two rolls of gauze from one of the pockets on his belt, and took the offered sticks from Mikey, who knelt down by your feet. 

“What’re we gonna do about him?” He asked, motioning over to Stockman’s twitching form across the room.

The brothers all sneered at the fly mutant with similar levels of disgust on their faces, finding him rather gross. You smiled.

“Just leave him there, we can worry about him another time.” Leo offered, adjusting you in his grip. You winced terribly when your arm was moved. 

“….Is ...your arm dislocated?” Leo asked you, holding you upright in a sitting position, now thoroughly checking you over. 

Donnie and Mikey were working together to splint your ankle, Mikey holding up your foot while Donnie wrapped the splint to it.

“Let me see that.” Raph placed his hands on your shoulder and you clenched your teeth and whined quietly at the sharp pain.

“Leo, hold them still for a minute.” 

“Just hold onto me tightly, it’ll be over in a second.” Leo hugged you close, wrapping an arm around your good side.

Raph got hold of your tender arm, and with practiced ease, popped your shoulder back into place. You cried out loudly and buried your face in Leo’s shoulder, taking deep breaths. 

Raph tried to rub the soreness out of your poor shoulder. “Good job, princess. Now let Donnie get a look at that break.”

You hesitantly detached yourself from Leo, your shaking red and swollen arm was carefully picked up by Donnie, who set the splint and carefully wrapped the bandages.

“I’ll be able to get a better look at it with the x-ray machine back at home. For now we just have to be really careful not to jostle them too much when carrying them back.”

“I got em.” Raph volunteered. Leo looked to Raph, wordlessly nodding his head for his brother to take you from his arms.

“Careful of their arm….”

“Got it.” 

Without much effort, Raph scooped you up in his big arms. You winced as a sharp stabbing pain radiated through your stomach as you were held close to Raph’s chest.

Something was definitely wrong.

“I’m sorry, princess. It’s just until we get you home.” Raph apologized. Leo led everyone quickly out of the lab. 

Once back out in the hallway you had entered from, you noticed with visible shock the literal sea of bodies that covered the floor. Foot ninja. They fought through all of them, just to get to you.

Everyone exited the lab, careful to stick to the shadows as the sun began to rise. As the turtles made their way for their home, your stomach burned worse and worse with a white hot pain that radiated through your body. The movement of the city passing you by made you become dizzy, and your head felt like it was spinning. You felt nauseous and incredibly tired. 

“Hey Raph….?”

“Yeah princess?”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you guys…. You had to save me instead….” You weren’t making any sense. Raph could barely hear you as the wind whipped past his head. You just felt so tired.

“Hey, stay with me, princess. We’re almost there. It’s okay.” Raph didn’t know what the right thing to say was. But your eyes were starting to slide closed.

“Can we…. Can we watch Princess Bride again…. When we get home….?”

Raph smiled at that.

“Yeah. We’ll watch it as many times as you want, short stack.” He didn’t care if his brothers teased him for secretly liking your girly movie. He didn’t care if he had to watch it with you a hundred times. He just wanted you to get better.

“We’re almost there. How you holding up?” 

Silence. 

“(Y/n)…?”

“Mmh?” 

Your eyes were closed.

“Come on, wake up, we’re almost there.”

He was desperate. 

“Mm…hm…” 

You hummed, but your eyelids felt too heavy to lift. You felt yourself sinking into a dark liquid abyss. You could no longer fight the pull.

“(Y/n)….. (y/n)? Hey…! Hey, no no no no no, you gotta stay awake. Come on princess…! (Y/N)!!!”

You felt Raph try to shake you awake, felt his muscles tense as he pushed himself to go faster. 

“We’re almost there, hold on…!”

“Hold on….”

Darkness overtook you.

Part 8

@itsberrydreemurstuff @thecreat0r64 @eli-chris @kurlyfrasier @autisticnutcase @drenix004 @donniesgirlie @cherryp-op @foggyturtleknightangel @blackrockshooter780 @l-n-g-t @peachesdabunny @silverwatergalaxy @willy-the-witch @caeliasaida @veri-varily @xnorthstar3x @leonardo-dabitchy @sh1ga-to3s

If anyone else wants to be tagged for the next update, let me know in the comments! :]

#tmnt x reader #bayverse tmnt #tmnt bayverse #tmnt fanfic #tmnt bayverse x reader #tmnt 2014 x reader #tmnt 2016 x reader #tmnt imagines #bayverse donatello #bayverse raphael #bayverse!tmnt #tmnt bayverse imagines #bayverse michelangelo x reader #bayverse leonardo #bayverse leonardo x reader #bayverse raphael x reader #bayverse donatello x reader

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Domestic Dream part 2: Family Bonds

Bayverse!Raphael x reader

Part 1

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

Y'all really liked my Domestic Dream with Raphael, so I’ve decided to give you more of him with your family.

Warnings: None, other than sweet Raph and maybe some spelling❤️

—-----------------------------------------

As the months rolled on, Raphael found himself becoming an integral part of your family. He trained with your little brother in makeshift ninja lessons, endured your mother's attempts at cooking (some successful, some not so much), and even engaged in friendly banter with your father over the latest action movies, or whatever game they had decided to watch.

One Saturday morning, as sunlight streamed through the windows, bathing the living room in a warm glow, you and Raphael found yourselves surrounded by board games and the smell of breakfast. It was a rare moment of tranquility in the busy lives you all led.

You had invited both of your parents and brother over for a family day filled with board games and movies. Though your parents weren’t together, it didn’t stop them from spending time with you and your little brother, nor did it keep them from spending time with your mutant ninja turtle boyfriend.

You found it amazing, that the one thing that had shocked your parents the most about your boyfriend, was just a minor footnote now. Raphael, a massive muscular green mutant turtle, with superhuman strength, who had studied the art ninja since he was a child? According to your parents, he was proving to become the best son in law they could dream of.

As your little brother excitedly set up a game of Monopoly, Raphael surveyed the scene with a contented smile. You were in the kitchen, cleaning the last few things from the dinner. Raphael had offered to help you, but you had given him a kiss, and told him not to worry about it.

Your mother, sipping on a cup of coffee, caught his eye and motioned for him to join her on the couch.

"You know", she began. "I never thought I'd be sharing my Saturday mornings with a mutant turtle, but I do quite enjoy it".

Raphael chuckled, "Yeah, well, life's full of surprises".

"I have to admit, though", she continued. "You bring a different energy to this place. It's not what I expected, but it's... nice."

Raphael nodded appreciatively. "Thanks. I never thought I'd find myself in a place like this. It's different, but I like it."

Just then, your father approached, a mischievous glint in his eye. He tapped Raphael on the shoulder, drawing attention to the open Carlsberg beer he held out for him. Raphael accepted it with a smile.

"So, Raphael”, your father said, taking a seat in your armchair. “Got any special plans for our daughter?"

Raphael raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Your father grinned. "Well, you know, you seem like the type who could pull off a surprise. Any grand gestures in the works?"

Raphael scratched the back of his head, a hint of a blush visible under his tough exterior when he realized what your father was talking about. "Uh, well, I'm still figuring that out".

“Well… uhm… I’ve… uh”.

Your mother nudged Raphael playfully. "Don't worry, we won't judge. It’s okay if you haven’t thought about it. But if you need advice, feel free to ask".

“Don’t worry about her”, your father laughed. “She is just impatient and wants grandchildren”.

Raphael’s face got hot. He had not thought so far, at all. Sure, he had the occasional thought of growing old with you, but he had never let his thoughts wonder that far. But then a realization fell upon Raphael. They must have talked about you and Raph, and they must have agreed. They wanted you to marry Raph and they wanted the two of you to give them grandchildren. They really trusted him with you. That touched something inside of Raph. Raphael could feel his insides warm at this thought. But he was also in slight shock. He had never thought that he could ever do that. He had never thought of having, because his nature would simply make it impossible. Nobody would want children with him… But just a few months ago he had never thought your family would like him, and see him now. Your parents were literally asking when he was going to propose to you.

As the banter continued between your parents and Raphael, your little brother announced that the Monopoly board was ready for action, just as you finished cleaning the kitchen. The game commenced, filled with laughter, friendly competition, and the occasional intervention of a stealthy ninja move from Raphael that left everyone in stitches.

As the day unfolded, it became clear that Raphael had not only won over your heart but had also forged genuine connections with each member of your family. The initial reservations had transformed into a shared understanding that family came in all shapes and sizes.

Later that evening, as you all gathered for a movie night, Raphael found himself enveloped in the warmth of your family. Snacks were passed around, ready to be eaten to the movie you were about to watch. Jokes were shared, and as it so often happened when Raphael was around your family, he felt a sense of belonging that extended beyond the sewers and the rooftops of New York. He was placed in the middle of your couch, with you to his left and your brother on his right, while your parents each had found their own arm chair.

Your little brother, exhausted from the day's adventures, leaned against Raphael on the couch, who instinctively put an arm around him. "You know, Raph," he mumbled sleepily, without moving his eyes from the television. "You're like the big brother I never knew I wanted".

Raphael, touched by the sentiment, ruffled his hair. "Yeah, well, you're not so bad yourself, squirt."

As the credits rolled on the movie, your little brother, nestled comfortably against Raphael, looked up and said, "I'm glad you're part of our family, Raph."

Raphael smiled, a rare genuine smile that reflected the depth of the bonds formed. "Yeah, kid, me too."

Your mother, watching the interaction, couldn't help but smile. She caught your eye and gave you a knowing look. You, who hadn’t heard the conversation Raph had had with your parents, looked at your boyfriend in slight confusion. But Raphael on the other hand knew exactly what your mother was smiling for.

And in that moment, as the stars emerged in the night sky outside of your apartment, it was clear that Raphael had not only found acceptance but had become an essential part of a family that, against all odds, had embraced him with open hearts.

And in that moment, surrounded by the people who had once been strangers but were now family, Raphael realized that love and acceptance could be found in the most unexpected places. And maybe he should allow himself to dream of a normal life with you.

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt raphael #tmnt x y/n #tmnt x reader #tmnt x you #tmnt donatello #tmnt leonardo #tmnt michelangelo #bayverse leo #bayverse tmnt #tmnt bayverse #bayverse raphael #bayverse turtles #tmnt bayverse x reader #bayverse raph x reader #bayverse raph #tmnt 2014 #bayverse mikey #bayverse leonardo #tmnt raph #tmnt 2016 #tmnt raph x reader #tmnt raphael x reader #leo tmnt #tmnt donnie #tmnt bayverse raph #tmnt bayverse raphael x reader #bayverse tmnt x reader

[lebbys-world]

Reality Check

Todoroki x gn!reader; pro-hero!au, some slightly graphic description of injury/death, angst to comfort, facing the realities of putting yourself in danger everyday

notes: i know this is a comfort blog, but i am a such a sucker for angst + esp in regards to how corrupt the superhuman society of mha is. so no relationship angst here !! just some good 'ol facing reality head-on with the love of your life !!

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

Your throat was searing with a burning pain, lungs overwhelmed as the cool metal of a knife passed across the skin covering your trachea.

The shock hits you instantly, yet the world feels as if it’s suddenly in slow motion.

One second, you were being held up by a villain, beaten and bruised, convincing yourself you’d make it out of there just fine.

The next moment, there was that burning sensation, and the villain holding you up lets go, forcing your weak body to fall helplessly onto the ground.

It hits you the moment your body slammed against the ground.

You realize what happened in that moment, but somehow your brain can't string together the thought fully.

You can barely move.

You can barely speak.

You’re desperate to talk, to say something, but the only thing that comes out of your mouth is choked noises and blood.

Tears start streaming down your face, the overwhelming emotions only continuing to cut off your scarce breaths.

Your vision starts to become blurry, and you can feel your senses starting to numb.

The once booming screams and explosions now sounded so far away that you could barely register them.

You feel someone run over to you, lifting you slightly off the ground, trying to ask you something that you can't quite make out.

A cold hand is placed on your face.

Why is the hand wet?

Oh.

That’s right.

That’s the same hand that must have picked you up.

That hand must be covered in your own blood.

You’re dying, after all.

You wish you could clearly see the face of the person holding you so dearly, or hear the pleading words of reassurance coming out of their mouth. 

But everything was such a haze.

Your senses nulled.

All you hoped was that Shoto was still okay.

. . .

You jolted upwards, your breaths staggered, sweat dripping off your brow.

Your eyes took a moment to adjust to the dark room, as the adrenaline continued rushing through your veins.

The visions that had just flooded your head suddenly disappeared, but you could still feel the agony of them weighing down on your chest.

From your sudden movement, you had woken up your husband next to you.

“Hey love, take a deep breath. Everything’s alright.”

He slowly sat up next to you, putting his arm comfortingly on your back as he continued to calm you down.

“Nightmare, hm?”

“...Yeah.” You answered, leaning into his touch.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Mmm… not yet.”

“That’s okay.” He pulls you into his embrace, “we can talk about it later.”

You were used to nightmares stemming from work, but you'd never had one that felt quite this realistic.

Even though you were awake, safe in your home, in your own bed, your husband next to you, you just couldn't shake the sinking feeling the dream had left you with.

As Pro-Heroes, this sort of fate could be your reality someday.

That was something you had to face when you took on the job, but only on nights like these did the severity of it ever really hit you.

That fate could befall you someday.

You could die out there someday.

Or even worse, Shoto could.

At that thought, you held him tighter.

“Can we just stay like this for a little longer?” You asked into his chest.

“For however long you need.”

#the dream was actually based off the death of an old oc #i was looking for inspo and found some from an old snippet #shoto todoroki #shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki x reader #shoto x reader #shouto todoroki x reader #todoroki x y/n #shoto todoroki x y/n #bnha x reader #mha x reader

[smellystars]

Trailblazing

Credit: @theleomarspt2

“He looks so perfect” I thought to myself as I looked at him

Sebastian and I have become incredibly close over the time I started working in the chemistry department. I was just an undergrad trying to get some experience under my belt and maybe make some money on the side. Sebastian, on the other hand, was a pretty well-rounded PhD student. He was making a good living with his research and teaching, and was pretty well liked within the faculty. And yet, somehow, he decided to ask me out. Of all people that fawned over him this confident stud decided to ask me if I would be down to go on a hike with him.

“how you feelin’?” He asked, the sweat making his biceps glisten.

“Good…” I said, the puffing in my breath betraying and showing how out of shape I truly am.

“Haha wanna rest for a bit?”

I sighed, threw my bag on the ground and proceeded to simply drop onto the floor. After catching my breath and taking a swig of water I took a second to look at the scenery. It was gorgeous, we were not too far from a small stream with a very slow flow.

“Hey, you want to see something cool?” Sebastian asks.

“Sure” I answered. Sebestian’s face lights up with glee as he starts to move towards the stream. Reaching the stream he squats, the water grazing his cheeks. “Ready” he asks with a smile. “Yea……” before I could even finish the word an ear ringing sound exploded from Sebastian.

PPPPPPPPPPHHHHHHHRRBBBBBBBTTTTTT

The once slowly moving stream began to fill with bubbles, Sebastian creating his own personal hot tub. Thou a bit away I could feel the vibration of his gas causing small pebbles and stones to jump around. I watched as the stream began to shrink slowly drying out with his minute long quake. The stream now nothing but a barren ditch, no water to be found.

“Did you see that? Impressive right?” Sebastian asked with a hearty smile. I stood up, amazed at what I had just witnessed. “Wow, I’ve never witnessed something like that.” I said. “How can such a hot guy rip ass that strong”, is all I thought to myself as I watch Sebastian flex in the dried stream. He takes a step out raises a leg and let’s rip another loud but shorter fart.

FFFFFFFRRRRRRPPTTT

“Sorry when the gate opens it’s hard to close.”

“Seb how is that possible?”

The proud smirk morphed into a puzzled face at first, but his confidence came back as he smiled.

“You got a superhuman boyfriend, promise I will keep you safe though” He said, with the charming deep voice I was so in love with.

We continued to walk for about 20 minutes, talking about the chemistry department and what each of us were doing in our program. As we walked, Sebastian was ripping burps and farts throughout but seemingly holding back. I am not sure if I should be thankful or not. On the one hand I am in love with how manly he is, his huge biceps, his dark beard, to have a man capable of such destruction was quite a dream when I think about it. And yet, in reality, it was intimidating to think that one fart from him was capable of dying up a creek. Would we be able to share a living space? What if one night he farted strongly enough it shattered the windows? What if nightly the bedsheets flew away from his farts? I guess I was lost in my thoughts and wandered ahead a little bit.

Fffffffffffffaaaaaaaauuuuuuurrrrrppppppppptttttttttt

A loud fart took me out of my trance. I turned to see Sebastian bending over few feet behind me. Though the I turned around within the first few seconds of the fart, Sebastian seemed to want to make it a point how strong he was as he let the fart rip for a little over forty seconds. As the fart went on the leaves behind him were blown, and the pungent smell, something akin to spoiled beans, seemed to envelope us, some birds even beginning to fly away to escape.

“Now don’t go leaving me behind again” He warned with a sweet smile, as he trotted to catch up to me.

He took my hand and said “Hey, I have a little surprise for you. There’s a clearing a bit off the path ahead, we are so close let’s go”.

We walked over about two hundred feet till we reached the clearing. He let go of my hand, threw his backpack on the ground and kneeled. He took a picnic blanket out of his backpack, a couple of beers and he sat down with his muscular legs extended.

“Come on” he said “the ground is comfy I promise”

I followed his lead and laid next to him, he passed me a beer. We started drinking and talking, he would start burping after every swing too, and I think he noticed how excited it got me cause they only started getting louder.

“So…. what’s the surprise?” I asked

“Two in one deal actually” And saying that, he raised his knee to his chest and winked.

PPBBBBPBRRRRBBBTT

“For one I wanna give you a little test you see” He said as his fart made the blanket flutter and the ground shake enough for me to feel it. He proceeds to lead to his left, his round ass facing me now.

BBRPBPBRRBAAPPRTT

“You see you caught my eye since I first saw you walk into the chem department” His fart was strong enough to push back my hair. The smell hit me instantly and I started coughing.

PPPBBPBPBPPB

“I mean look at you pretty boy, you got an angelic face and a cute slender body” Though shorter, this fart packed a punch, enough that it pushed me back a bit. I could also see a cloud of dust and leaves forming as the winds kicked them off the ground. I ended up lying face up, eyes closed at first, but when I opened them I saw Sebastian standing over me. He squats, crotch to bring his face close to mine, a grin drawing across his face.

PPMPMPRRTT

“And I know you like me too, have watched how you watch me” He said flexing. It felt as though I was laying right next to a radiator. “But pretty boys like you can’t handle dating a human with superfarts” He said “You though, you are holding just fine”.

FFPBRRHHTT

He let out one last fart before he stood back up and extended a hand out to me. Coughing, I took it and proceeded to stand up with shaking legs.

“Well you passed your surprise test, and with extra credit too” Said Sebastian as he pointed to my crotch, which betrayed me as it showed my excitement. “So it’s time for your second surprise”. He grabbed my hands into his and looked me in the eyes.

“Know you know what my farts can do….. You still want to go out with me?”

I took a deep breath, his still lingering gas burning my lungs. Through the coughing fit and red eyes I gave my answer.

“Yes. Your volume of gas will take some getting used to but why would I ever give up this opportunity.”

Sebastian brimming with joy, says on thing, “to commemorate this occasion I’ll show you something extra special.” He takes a few steps away and lays on his stomach arching his back, his butt aiming towards to sky.

“I don’t want any clouds, ruining our first pic together.” And with that the loudest and strongest fart I ever experienced erupted out of Sebastian. The trees closest to us bend either their leaves getting ripped off the branches blown in his foul winds. Animals the vacuity scattering from fear of being enveloped by the stink cloud. A force so strong that trees a mile sway from his winds. I look up to see the few clouds in the sky swirly break apart and dissipate into the atmosphere.

Sebastian gets up with a sigh of relief, “ahh, okay let’s take a picture.”

I walk towards him my eyes beginning watering, I steel myself accepting that this is going to be my life from now on. A smile forming on my face. I reach Sebastian and hug him taking a picture in-front of the clear sky.

“I couldn’t be happier”

#male farts #hyperfarts #malehyperfarts #fart story

[dairy-farmer]

You ever think about how Tim has NEVER had normal sex in his life?

Has only known superhumans and Peak Physical Condition trainwrecks?

Think about it. Who would he have lost his virginity too? Some grabby, gross, civilian he can't relate too? That reeks of B.O. and would ask QUESTIONS about his battle scars? Or his BROS? Who he trusts. Who love him and understand him. Who where THERE when he got those wounds.

Who would stop if he told them too.

He totally, after working up the courage, siddles up to Bart and asks if he... you know... could help him with something. Because Tim's NOT about to risk his first time to SuperStrength and complexe FEELINGS. And Bart is from the future. He's much more chill about this.

But he's? Also a fucking SPEEDSTER? They VIBRATE when they get excited. That same stamina that can let them run for what TO US, OUTSIDE the Speedforce, seems like hours? It's literally DAYS to THEM. Fuckers are stamina BEASTS.

But Tim is still learning, hasn't figured that out yet. Bart is his Fun Friend. Light hearted and chill. Good first time material.

So they fumble out of their clothes. Bart getting more and more hyped. Vibrating. Trying to stay in slow time with Tim. They fumble about, learning what touches feel good. Vibrating fingers on his clit? Feel REALLY good. The same for inside him. A little lubricant, because he read you're supposed too, aaand? Oh. Oh god.

And look, Bart DID try! It just felt... *incoherent noise*

Which leaves Tim getting fucked at superspeed. Nerves lighting up and muscles trying to react to something that's already moved on. Getting gushed into again and again like a stream that keeps coming, ruining his sheets. Feeling hands everywhere as the sensations catch up.

He can't possibly keep up. Gets offs so many times his brain decides its NAP TIME now. Wakes up to Bart panting into his neck, his puss full and gushing cum down into the PUDDLE under his hips, and another orgasm.

Tim learns that Speedsters tend to marathon their sex.

His everything feels bruised.

Bart has to fix his bed as Tim steals Bart's. But! No longer a virgin. And when he recovers? He TOTALLY gets the "deal" with sex now. (No he doesn't. Speedster sex is an outlier.)

Thing is? No one thinks to correct this misinformation. Why would they? OBVIOUSLY somebody ELSE gave Young Justice "The Talk", right? Nope. Individuals got it, but not as a team. Tim never got SHIT. He RESEARCHED.

Figured out "safe sex" is birth control and NOT letting the Half Kryptonian with super strength be "on top". You have to ride THEM or you risk bruises in delicate places and potentially broken bones. Luckily, Kon has TTK. So he can help.

When Tim doesn't want to do all the work or is tired, Kon can just... wrap him up in that full body hug of a telekinetic field. Lift him and slide him back down, as fast or as slow as feels good. Tease everywhere that feels good at once. Even if Tim drifts off, while Kon is teasing himself after making Tim orgasm, his whole body is supported so he can just sort of relax. Drift and feel good.

Let Kon use him for a bit.

It takes so LONG for Kon to cum, but Tim thinks they're getting better at it!

Of course, Batman would NEVER. Is distant. But Tim tries his best to be a good Robin. Bond in any way he can. It all falls short. Bruce brittle and hurting. Then? Some idiot tries to recreate Ivy's Pollen. She catches word. Does NOT appreciate that. It's a shit show.

Their masks hold. But in the fight, Batman is sent crashing into a crate of experimental samples. It wouldn't be a problem, if not for the metal joints of the crate stabbing JUST enough to break skin, though a weak point in his Armour.

They don't notice until the fights over. Long after an emergency counter-toxin would be effective.

Tim manages to get him to the Batmobile. Get them back. Agent A, has a fever and is upstairs. Fast asleep in bed. Can't help. The emergency Ivy counter agents will only go so far. Luckily, Tim knows where the napping couch is. It has a pull out bed.

Bruce doesn't put together his plan until he's already half removed the suit, his brain already sluggish and overheating. He tries to object, but it is strangled into a groan when Tim leans forward and tries his hand at using his mouth. Because to be honest, Tim isn't sure Bruce will FIT.

He barely fits a few inch in his mouth.

He's gonna have to try though. Pollen really only has one cure. And if Bruce had groaned at his mouth? He nearly sobs for air when Tim carefully rocks over him, lines up and breathes into the strain as he let's himself slide down. Bruce's hand shoot up to catch his hips, flexing like they want to slam him down and lift him off, like they a warring and can't decide.

But Bruce's hips know what they need. Are desperately rocking up. A little deeper. A little deeper. Impaling Tim on the biggest cock he's ever taken. Tim let's Bruce control things. Take what he needs. Rubs his clit to try and help with the strain. And then? He's so, SO full.

Bruce is rolling them. Hiking up his hips and leaning forward to rest his sweating forhead on Tim's shoulder. Holds him possesive and close as he fucks him. Slow at first them faster and faster. Harder. Until it feels like Tim's insides are being battered. Growling in his ear, his, his. His robin. Good boy, his.

Like something finally snapped and all the desperation finally fell out. The lust and greed.

It's like Bruce is trying to drain him of every orgasm he can possibly HAVE. Too much. He's so tired. It's good. Overwhelming. Goes on and on and ON. Surely he's cured now? Right? Tim drifts. Wakes up in Bruce's Bed. Weren't they in the cave? But Bruce is still inside him, rocking, gently and just to feel it. Shhh, shhh, go back to bed. Yeah. Okay.

Bruce is a lot nice after that though. They're closer. Tim has definitely found his bonding activity.

It works on Dick too. Who was between relationships. Depressed again. Lonely. And... well, Tim is so WARM. Feels so good to cuddle. Too bend in half in a good ol mating press and just? Get as close as he CAN. It's fun to eat him out until he sobs. Sit him in his lap like a cuddly little buddy and split him open, carry him around all day like that. Maybe Dick gets a little bit obsessed too. A little attached. Who's to say?

But! Each and every person? Who wants a piece? Not normal! Super human or frankly human outliers with intimacy issues that make them backed up! Tim who thinks Sex=Railed Into Oblivion! That you gotta SCHEDULE around it, because OBVIOUSLY you won't be able to walk or move after. This is normal and to be expected, right?

What do you MEAN "no"?

-🐼

tim being completely out of touch about what normal sex is supposed to be like 😭😭😭😭! the only people he's ever fucked has been people who are so beyond what could constitute as normal and all have conditioned tim to believe that sex is just LIKE that 😭

#answered asks #asks #anonymous

[archivecon]

Statement begins...

Statement of ArCon staff, regarding the third annual ArchiveCon convention for fans of Rusty Quill’s The Magnus Archives/The Magnus Protocmagprool. Statement recorded 23/02/09 by the Official ArchiveCon Tumblr.

—

Hey archival assistants, avatars, and everyone in between!

Welcome to the official Tumblr for ArchiveCon 2024. We are proud to be hosting our THIRD (!!) ArchiveCon - a fan-lead, fan-run online mini convention for 18+ fans of the Rusty Quill horror podcast, The Magnus Archives (and now Protocol!)

Whether you are an old fan, a new fan, a deeply-rooted fandom denizen, or looking to make your first connections in our fan community, we hope you’ll join us. ArchiveCon may be online-only, but we’ve got all the energy and features of a traditional offline convention - everything from panels and special guests (voice actors, writers, and industry professionals!), to cosplay and games, streaming and discussion, and even an Artist’s Alley.  

Here’s the quick rundown:

- June 21-23, 2023 (that’s three days, folks - Friday to Sunday!)

- 18+, online only (Most areas of the con will be SFW, but you still must be 18+ to attend)

- FREE TO ATTEND! (Registration is required and must be done so before the convention starts; you can register here!)

- All events scheduled in PST, but all international fans are welcome and most panels (at the discretion of individual panelists) will be recorded for post-convention, on-demand viewing.  

- Primarily focused on The Magnus Archives/Protocol, but fans of all things horror, podcasting, and transformative works will find something to love. The Plain Old Curious are always welcome, too - we have to feed The Eye somehow, right? ;)

For more detailed information and FAQs, visit our website!

—

Are you an artist? A storyteller? A connoisseur of pulp fiction novels looking for an audience? ArchiveCon is here for you, beyond attendee registration. :)

Artists and artisans of all kinds are welcome (encouraged!) to apply for a slot in our Artists’ Alley. Do you take digital art commissions? Make soap? Knit hats?  All of the above?? (Kudos to you, you must be using superhuman eldritch powers to get all that done.) We’d love to give you a place to showcase and sell your work, reach a like-minded audience, and network with fellow creatives. 

Don’t have anything to sell, but want to share your passion for the world of The Magnus Archives and its fans? Then we’d love to chat with you about hosting a panel. ArchiveCon will host panels on a wide variety of subjects including (but not necessarily limited to!): 

- deep dives and meta on TMA/TMP characters, plot points, history, and relationships (we love a detailed ship manifesto)

- queer identities in horror and fandom spaces

- the evolution/history of fandom culture

- fan creations and transformative works (such as zines, art, fic and fic-binding, cosplay - you name it)

- friendly discussions and debates

- technical tutorials and discussions on podcast production, streaming, sound editing, etc!

For more insight and ideas, check out last year’s program schedule!

Applications aren’t open quite yet, but we’ll update all our pages when they are.  Hope to see you there!

[Statement Ends.]

#the magnus archives #the magnus protocol #tma #tmp #tmagp #magnuspod #magpod

[sprout-fics]

Hi!! I saw that you were taking requests for Gaz and was wondering if we could get more headcanons with him in the Omegaverse or Witcher au? Whichever one you’re feeling! I really enjoy the way you write him and just love it whenever he appears in fanfics. For me he seems like the sweetest of the TF so whenever he comes on screen or appears in a fanfic his presence is super calming? I especially love the way you write him because you put so much effort into writing his character and making sure he’s portrayed well. Love your content and I hope you have a wonderful day✨!

I LOVE Witcher Gaz. I see him as such a knight in shining armor persona, like all the stories of medieval chivalry and honor. Have a quick drabble of a great story idea I had

For @glitterypirateduck's GazFest

The forest is quiet around you as you stand propped at an odd angle amongst the willows, Their long, hanging branches drape like a veil across your bare shoulders, dressed in nothing more than your chemise, exposed to the misty dawn as it rises over the glade. The bark presses harshly against your back, and even as you try to struggle your bindings don’t relent. The hunters who have left you here likely lurk nearby, hidden in the ferns as they await their prey. You can feel your heart race on the underside of your jaw, skin erupting in goosebumps as the chill of sunrise whispers across your flesh. 

A sound, quiet, subtle, but one that makes your gaze snap up beyond the curtain of willow branches that hangs as a curtain to shield your form. 

“Stay back!” You call desperately, and whatever creature has decided to investigate your strange situation pauses, seemingly concerned. Yet then it continues, and a shape slowly draws closer to the branches before lifting them up to reveal your hostage form. 

Not a creature. A man. 

You blink in surprise, not expecting to see another hunter this far out into the glade, where you’d been dragged against your will and then set as a prized bait for the thing the hunters seek. The man before you looks just as startled as you do, dark skin covered in dark leather armor, boots muddied, armed to the teeth with a bow, a blade, and a sword at his side. Armed far more than what a typical hunter would be, and you blink again as you realize exactly what he is. 

A witcher.

A fearsome, deadly hunter that pursues prey of a different breed, things that would easily devour you and yet pose a meager threat to his strength. Terrifying superhumans designed to kill. Yet as you regard him you take in the softness of his brown eyes, his full, parted lips, and the expression of surprise but concern painted across his gaze. 

“Are you alright?” He asks, voice accented in a tongue you recognize. His arm is still holding aloft the branches, allowing soft sunlight to stream through and alight your exposed form. It backlights him in heavenly yellow, and for a moment you think he looks like an angel.

“...You’re not a unicorn.” You breathe in your surprise, and his eyebrows raise in bemusement. 

“...No, I’m not.” He replies, and makes to step inside your circle. The branches tickle his broad shoulders where his pauldrons sit. “Is that why you’re here?”

You nod eagerly, making a point to struggle in your bindings that prevent your escape. “They- the hunters. They heard there was a unicorn in this forest. They dragged me out here as bait and then left me.”

The man hums, takes a step towards you. He smells like cloves and the musky scent of pine. You tilt your head to look at him, slouched as you are. 

He’s so close.

“Why you?” He asks as he glances around, likely looking for the other hunters, and you feel yourself warm under his question before you mutter your response.

“Sorry?”

“I’m a virgin.” You snap, embarrassed and irritated. It doesn’t seem to surprise him, and you wonder if he knew the answer from the start. Cheeky bastard. Yet he doesn’t comment, choosing instead to examine your bindings. When he draws his blade you gasp in fright, only for him to hold up his hands placatingly. 

“Easy, I’m going to cut you free. Is that okay?” He breathes, and he’s so gentle that it makes something flutter in your chest like the slow flap of mourning dove wings. You nod, and one of his gloved hands braces you forward, just enough to bend you so he can reach your wrists, and then the rope at your waist. “There, isn’t that better?”

You nod, feeling your face warm under his stare, ignoring the little ounce of self-satisfaction in his gaze. Yet it morphs into worry as he catches your hand, examines the red ring of rope burns on your wrist. 

“How long have you been out here?” He asks gently, eyes soft. Your wrist feels warm under his touch. You tell yourself it’s just your inflamed flesh. 

“Since yesterday morning.” You confess quietly. 

He looks angry at that, and you realize it’s only on your behalf. You hadn’t asked to be out here, had pleaded the entire journey with the men to not try and kill the creature they were after. It had been to no avail, and they had left you without water or food for a full day in their crazed quest to slay their prize. 

“I can’t leave you here.” He mutters, as if to himself, and your heart leaps in your throat. “Can you walk?”

You take a tentative step forward, bare feet brushing the dewey grass. The unsteadiness in your legs flares suddenly, and you stumble forward into him. 

“Careful, dove.” He murmurs, and you blink at the endearment, raising your head from where it’s rested, just above his heart, up into his face. He looks a little embarrassed he’s let it slip, and for a moment you want to tell him you don’t mind. Far from it. 

Before you can say as much, however, this strange witcher bends to lift an arm under your legs, hauls you up into his arms with superhuman strength. You squeak in surprise, and feel the rumble of his chuckle vibrate in his chest. 

He begins walking purposefully away from the glade, and if you listen you can hear the snoring sounds of the hunters dozing in the trees. 

“...My name is Kyle.” The witcher holding you offers once you’re past the clearing. “If you’d like, you can call me Gaz.”

Gaz. It suits him, you think. It’s lovely. 

“Thank you…Gaz.” You whisper softly, and hope he doesn’t notice when you lean into his warmth to ward off the chill of dawn. You offer your own name, and dart your eyes up to his face to see him smile. 

“You know…I actually haven’t seen any unicorns in these woods.” He tells you after a few minutes of walking. You look up at him then curiously, eyes wide as you meet the endearing softness of his brown eyed stare. 

“In fact, I think the loveliest creature I’ve seen in these woods is you.”

#gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x you #gaz x female reader #gazfest #gazfest drabbles

[stnexus]

how many drinks?

mature audience (ma) / comfort

hobie brown x black!reader

summary: hobie’s sight is set on only you at a house party.

word count: 750+

includes drinking, smoking, established relationship, L-bomb, reader isn’t described much but does wear a dress and have butterfly locs

the lighting in the room seemed to dim even more as the night progressed. the music had been loud enough to drown out any negativity, and smoke circulated the room from each corner. we don’t have to stay all night baby, the words you had uttered into hobie’s ear just before you had entered the house echoed through his mind. which he was happy for, but in his quiet and relaxed state he couldn’t dream of being anywhere else.

his eyes were hooded as he took another drag from the pre-rolled blunt he had stashed away in the pocket of his studded jacket. his back pressed against the couch as he slouched against it, he had only been watching you. his eyes following your movements as you grabbed shots of alcohol from your two friends you had met up with at the party. no doubt their partners were around doing the same as him.

hobie watched as you quickly threw the drink back, your face contorting with a small grimace at the taste. which brought a sly smile to his face as huffed out a small chuckle — a stream of smoke falling from his lips. had you been aware of his reaction you would have surely smacked your lips in feigned annoyance.

your steps were becoming slower, as if more thought had to be put into them as you accepted the shots given to you. and his eyes trailed you with every step. no doubt you could feel his eyes on you but you never mind it one bit.

“he looks like he’s about to eat you at this point,” one of your friends choked out in a laugh as she glanced past your shoulder at the man a few feet away. “nah, yeah, he definitely looks stuck,” the other piped up with a held back laugh. not even looking behind you you sent a smile their way, “I’m ‘bout to go talk to him. I’ll be right back.”

the walk over to hobie felt much longer than it was. your legs felt like they weren’t cooperating, and you stumbled slightly. but for him, watching you walk over was like a solo runway experience.

your butterfly locs moved in sync with your movements, your white dress seemed to hike up your brown thighs. something it had been doing all night and you would adjust it, but your drunken state seemed to leave you unfazed as of now. he watched as small smile traced your lips as you neared him, sitting in his lap and burying your face in his neck.

“what’s tha’ matta’, pretty? you ready ‘ta go?” he questioned as he loosely wrapped his arm around your waist.

“ ‘just wanted a huuug…” you slurred out. laying a few kisses on his neck. he didn’t complain one bit as you did so, humming out as a response to your little confession. hobie knew when the drinks were reaching a point of conclusion because you would always become sappy and handsy.

“i’ll be ready in a few more minutes,” you confirmed his thoughts as you let go and felt his arm slip from your waist.

—

as you hugged your equally drunk friends goodbye you sent a polite wave over to their partners. pushing one of your locs over your shoulder you sauntered over to hobie, scared you’ll lose your footing if you were to take your mind off of walking. a laugh rang through the air as you looked at hobie’s outreached hand, to which you grabbed as you rolled your eyes.

“ ‘s not funny,” you slurred as you threw back a unamused stare.

“it really is, love,” he replied pulling you closer, “you’re fumblin’ ‘round like you’ve just got new legs.” bending slightly to sling you over his shoulder as you began your short walk back to your shared apartment, a slight sense of dizziness overcame you. laying a gentle slap on hobie’s lower back was your first sign of fighting back.

“calm down, calm down,” hobie mumbled, “swea’ you get drunk n’ act like you’re the one with the superhuman abilities…” sure he could complain and roll his eyes in feigned disdain but this was something he’d never miss out on. before he could utter another word a sigh fell from your lips, no doubt a sign you had tired yourself out.

“ ‘love you, hobieee,” it was light. a whisper slurred into the darkness of the night around you. it brought a sly smirk to his face in fact.

“i love you too, baby.”

#✧ read along #hobie brown x black!reader #hobie brown #atsv hobie #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x black reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x y/n

[crisiscutie]

How many times can Sephiroth cum? Because he is like super human so does he like cum more?

He can definitely do it several times, and I'd imagine because of his superhuman nature, he is capable of it more than the average man. And he'd surely have more stamina to boot, so let's hope the darling can keep up with him.

Content Warning: NSFW, Corruption, Impregnation and Breeding Kink. Featuring Fluffy Sephiroth.

I can't give numbers because I'm terrible at math.

So in general, Sephiroth's position as Shinra's top SOLDIER would necessitate a healthy and balanced diet, which in turn can help lead to a high cum production. With his alien DNA and incredibly active lifestyle, in and out of the battlefield, he likely possesses exceptionally healthy and strong sperm, perfect for breeding his darling. OG Sephy, AC Sephy, possibly 7R and Dissidia, probably produces an ungodly amount of cum due to them ascending past their humanity and becoming more ethereal than anything.

When it comes to sex, I've always imagined Sephiroth's cum as something otherworldly, even for Fluffy Sephiroth, who, unlike his yandere counterparts, isn't wicked, but he still harbors a dark nature that only remains dormant due to his darling's positive influence.

I've already discussed what's it's like for the darling to receive C.C, OG and AC Sephys cum, so why not focus this post on 7R and Fluffy Sephys?

Fluffy Sephiroth: His alien seed is similar to C.C's, initially. The forceful, heavy rush of his seed will coat her insides as they fight each other to fertilize her egg. The darling could feel Sephiroth's intense love for her through his seed, its stickiness representative of his unwavering devotion to her. She could also feel the slightest tinge of darkness in it. She might squirm a little, but it isn't unpleasant for her to take.

With time, the seeds will cease its aggressive onslaught on her egg, ultimately allowing one to fertilize it. On the outside, Fluffy Sephiroth would hold his darling tightly, as his seed continued to flow into her. He then embraced her, burying his face into her shoulder and closing his eyes, swearing to never let her go...

7R Sephiroth: The darling will feel the heavy and unyielding stream of his corrupted seed pouring into her, overwhelming her senses. His corrupted seed had a mind of its own, moving and squirming inside her like a snake. It passes through her at a leisurely pace. While the seed is less sticky than its counterparts, it will induce both discomfort and longing, as the faint traces of it left behind massages the darling's walls.

His snake-like seeds will eventually find her defenseless egg, attacking it savagely and then slowly constricting around it, drawing out its suffering. Suddenly, one of seeds will lunge forward and strike at the egg, initiating the fertilization process. During this, 7R Sephiroth held her tightly, his velvet voice whispering rambles in her ear about their perfect match, while the poor darling squirming for dear life...

#sephiroth #final fantasy 7 #sephiroth x reader #ff7 #ff7 sephiroth #yandere sephiroth #crisis cutie #yandere sephiroth x reader #house of sephiroth au #fluffy sephiroth #c.c rambles

[noorthehood]

Until You • 05

Miguel O'Hara/Reader

Ch. 01 Here

Ch. 02 Here

Ch. 03 Here

Ch. 04 Here

Faster updates on Ao3!

With a glimpse of a futuristic cityscape and an encounter with a Spiderman seemingly much different from the one you’re used to, you unknowingly find yourself thrust into a web of intrigue and danger as the very fabric of space and time is warping. Who will you trust?

........………………………….…………………......................

“They’re calling me what?”

Your words reverberate through the bustling cafeteria, drawing the attention of the Spider-Society members immersed in their daily routines. The chatter around you momentarily subsides as heads turn in your direction while Lyla’s virtual figure flickers with her every laugh, clearly taking great delight in the affronted look on your face.

“Come on! It’s not like they’re saying it to cuss you out.” She begins. “Try to look at it as…a pet name that fits your circumstances.”

You finish the last bite of your burger, discreetly glancing around to ensure no one is overhearing your conversation with the ever-teasing AI.

“Well, pet name or not, I don’t know how I feel about having hundreds of Spider-people refer to me as ‘Temp’.” You whisper. “What is this, an office drama?”

Seemingly unfazed by your skepticism, she takes on a robotic and lifeless tone, her movements mimicking those of a clunky mechanical robot.

"'Temp' is short for temporary, symbolizing your presence in our dimension as a temporary occurrence. It is a way for the Spider-Society members to acknowledge and categorize your unique situation in a comedic and friendly light. Please try not to take it personally." 

You roll your eyes and let out a resigned sigh, realizing that Lyla is determined to have her fun at your expense. Taking a sip from your drink, you decide to shift the conversation back to what you were discussing before she had let you know of the nickname issue.

“Alright, alright, we get it Tin Man. Now, let’s go back to what we were talking about before my drink coincidentally happens to find its way into your GPU.”

On cue with your threat, she quickly adjusts her projection to display a small holographic interface, complete with visual aids and data streams, preparing to resume her description of the inner workings of the 2099 metropolis of Nueva York.

Over the past few days, a peculiar bond had formed between you and Lyla; although she initially seemed wary of an outsider infiltrating the tightly-knit facility, you could tell the advanced AI had finally warmed up to your presence. Once you were granted permission to roam around the Spider-Society HQ, courtesy of Jessica Drew's intervention, Lyla became your designated companion and monitor—when her boss didn’t need her support elsewhere, that is. This idea proved particularly useful, as you would no longer have to go through that bulky Spiderman for your more personal daily needs. 

While her primary purpose was to ensure your safety and well-being, she went above and beyond her assigned duties; Lyla became your guide, your confidant, and even your source of entertainment. You just knew that your boring old smartphone would never be able to compete once you’d be back in your home dimension.

But beyond all of that, you knew that it was Lyla’s presence itself that had been keeping you from going insane between those walls. 

While there were a few friendly Spider-people who would engage in casual conversations, you couldn't shake off the feeling of being an outsider. After all, they were superhumans who had their responsibilities and duties to attend to, and you were just a temporary visitor in their realm of heroism. There was an invisible barrier that separated you, making it difficult to truly connect on a deeper level—or perhaps that from experience, despite their desire to befriend you, they were the ones that felt compelled to keep their distance so as not to bring you closer than you already were to their world of precarity. 

Could that explain why the Spiderman hadn’t come to check on you since the go-home machine incident?

You shake the thought off your mind.

“Are you still listening or am I wasting my RAM here?”

Lyla’s voice quickly brings you back to reality as you blink a few times, eyes returning on the holographic projection she had created of one of the city’s vertical car tunnels.

“Oh—Yeah, sorry, I mean—” You stammer, trying to come up with an excuse. “I was just…thinking about how much I would love to see the city with my own two eyes instead of through projections or from the windows, you know.”

That wasn’t a lie; you truly did find yourself captivated by the vision of this futuristic ‘Nueva York’—it's a far cry from the familiar streets and buildings of your respective New York. Everything Lyla had told you about the advanced transportation system, the breakthroughs in regenerative medicine, and the incredible architectural wonders that were out there just piqued your curiosity all the more—had it not been that you were being constantly monitored, you probably would have tried to sneak out and get a feel for it yourself.

“Yeah, well,” She says, adjusting her comically large heart-shaped glasses. “I wish I could show you firsthand, but the circumstances don’t exactly allow for it.”

“Yeah, I know. No hard feelings.” You let out a wistful sigh, acknowledging the limitations of your current situation. “Thanks for allowing me to get a glimpse of it through you, though.”

Lyla looks at you in silence for a few moments, as if she was trying to find the right words to make you feel better about your circumstances. The silence stretches, creating a tangible weight in the air before she finally begins to speak.

"It's…not all utopia, you know." She finally says. The cafeteria buzzes with activity around you, but her somber tone draws your focus entirely to her. "As advanced and dazzling as this place may seem, it’s not without its flaws.” 

The once playful companion now wears a more serious facade, and you can't help but feel a pang of concern.

“There is a stark divide between the privileged elite and the disenfranchised, those who have access to the advancements and benefits of this society…and those who are left behind."

She pauses, her holographic figure tilting slightly as if trying to convey the depth of the issue. The projections around her shift to display images of gleaming skyscrapers towering above shanty towns and overcrowded streets.

"The rapid progress and technological marvels have come at a price," Lyla continues. "Mega-corporations such as Alchemax wield tremendous power, their influence reaching into every aspect of society; they control resources, shape public opinion, and even dictate the very fabric of people's lives."

You find yourself drawn deeper into Lyla's words, the holographic projections becoming windows into a reality far more complex than you had imagined. Scenes of protests, clashes, and the shadows of corporate dominance flicker before your eyes, painting a picture of a society grappling with its own contradictions.

Lyla's gaze shifts from the projections to meet your eyes, her virtual body perched on the edge of your table. The room seems to quiet down around you—or maybe your brain was playing tricks on you to help you grasp the gravity of the moment.

"There's a lot of darkness beneath the glossy surface, a side of this place that I haven't shared with you until now. And, maybe…" She hesitates. "...Maybe that's one of the reasons why he is so determined to find a way to get you out of here quickly."

You raise your eyebrows at that statement.

It takes a moment to absorb her words; of course, you knew that no city came without its downsides. But in a world like this, a world that seemed so utopian, so clean and rid of imperfections—it was somehow disheartening to know that the greediness of human nature could persist even when it has the opportunity not to.

“I suppose that’s why even a place like this needs its Spiderman, huh.” You scoff lightly, then pause for a few seconds. “Say, Lyla…”

“Hm?” Her virtual gaze meets yours inquisitively as the projections behind her dissipate.

Your voice drops lower as you lean in closer to her, ensuring your conversation remains private.

“Does he...you know,” You hesitate slightly, unsure of how to word things. “Get notified of everything I ask you?”

Lyla raises an eyebrow.

"Not unless it compromises anyone's safety," she assures you, her voice carrying a hint of playful mischief. "But if you ask me to show you any weird stuff, I might just snitch for funsies."

"No—God, no, it's not like that," You hurriedly clarify as you shake your head. Lyla crosses her arms and looks at you skeptically, her virtual glasses perched on her nose.

"I mean, he does have full access to the record, of course," Lyla admits. "But that's hours and hours of conversation that he'd have to skim through every day. Trust me, he's got better things to do."

"I see," you reply, the tension in your shoulders easing.

Lyla continues to study you, her virtual gaze fixed on your face, as if she senses there's more to your question. With a subtle movement of her hand, she prompts you to elaborate.

You stay silent for a moment. There was something you had been meaning to address, a lingering curiosity that had been growing within you for the better part of your stay at the HQ.

“Could you…tell me more about Spiderman?”

She raises her eyebrows in surprise.

“Depends. What would you like to know?”

“I…I’m not sure.” You stammer. “The gist of it, I guess.”

“The gist of it, huh.” A mischievous smile tugs on her lips. “Well, there are limitations to my programming when it comes to the disclosure of sensitive information about anyone at HQ, as you probably have guessed already.”

You nod, acknowledging the obvious.

“Yeah, of course, sorry I ever asked—”

“But.”  Lyla interrupts you and quickly appears closer to your face, a finger raised in the air. “I can tell you something interesting I’ve noticed lately.”

The sassy AI sure knew how to pique your curiosity. You cross your arms in anticipation.

“I’m listening.”

Lyla smirks and looks around before taking a seat on your shoulder.

"Well, one thing you have to know about our Spiderman here is that he is stubborn as a mule," She starts with a tinge of simulated exasperation. "This whole vigilante thing, it's like a drug to him. Nothing else matters more than doing what he believes is right, even if it means going against the grain."

You slowly uncross your arms as the AI keeps on going.

“Ever since he…became the way he is,” She hesitates, searching for the right words, “He’s always been driven by this deep sense of responsibility—always shouldering the weight of the world on his back without ever counting on anyone else to help carry the load. Maybe he sees it as a sort of atonement for the things he’s done, I’m not sure.” Lyla's expression softened, her digital eyes conveying a sense of fondness. 

“He’s not like most Spider-People in this building, you know. He doesn’t get much recognition at all, or even…deal with the public. With or without the mask.”

She pauses as you process her words.

“But ever since you got here, or rather ever since he took you out of that machine,” Her eyes look up into yours. “I’ve noticed he’s gotten…How could I say—softer?”

Your eyes widen at her words, struggling to comprehend the implications. 

“What do you…” You chuckle. “Nah, I haven’t seen him since I set foot in the go-home machine, and our interactions have been brief at best—”

“You haven’t seen him since that day. He, on the other hand, has been watching over you for the past ten days. You knew that, didn’t you?” She chimes in. “Maybe he feels guilty for what he made you go through back there, maybe he sees a reflection of himself in you. Someone who’s been thrust against their will into a world they don't really understand.”

The image of that imposing, stoic masked man allowing himself to ‘soften’ in your presence is both bewildering and unbelievable to you. Lyla's eyes meet yours, a warm smile playing on her lips. 

"Sometimes, it's the most unexpected connections that have the most profound impact," She says softly. "Maybe he sees in you a glimmer of the humanity he thought he'd lost."

Before you could formulate a response, a notification appears on Lyla's communication interface, accompanied by a rhythmic beeping. She glances at the notification and mutters ‘gotta take that’ before she vanishes from your shoulder, leaving you alone with your swirling thoughts.

Leaning back in your chair, the weight of Lyla's words settles on your mind like a heavy cloak. The revelation that Spiderman had been watching over you didn't come as a surprise; it was part of the reason you had devised the whole psychological warfare plan while you were still confined in your quarters. But for Lyla to suggest that your mere presence had impacted him in some way…

You mull over the implications of her words, tracing the lines of the man’s solitary existence. How isolated must he be to find solace in the presence of a complete stranger? The idea that your arrival could have softened his hardened resolve tugs at your heartstrings, evoking a mix of empathy and compassion—you can't help but wonder what it must be like to carry the burden he bears. 

The man’s image flashes in your mind. You can almost see the weight of the world etched on his shoulders, the weariness in his gaze—though you’d never seen them, you still wondered what stories his eyes held. Would it be bad to wonder what type of man lies under the mask? What sort of scars, seen and unseen, you would find under his suit?

‘No.’ You stop your mind from wandering further. ‘That’s inappropriate.’

You take a deep breath, attempting to push aside those intrusive thoughts as a sense of internal conflict washes over you. 

“Speaking of the blue devil.” Lyla’s voice brings you back to reality once again, her figure instantly rematerializing in front of your eyes. “Looks like he’s heading back from a field mission after hearing the latest news going around HQ.”

“News?” You furrow your eyebrows inquisitively. “What news?”

Lyla smirks and crosses her arms as she savors the moment of anticipation before delivering the information.

“Seems like your little friend has finally woken up."

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

“You might just be the least athletic person I have ever had the misfortune to meet in all my years of activity.” 

Leaning against the wall, you struggle to catch your breath, your lungs still heaving from the exertion of navigating the unconventional layout of the Spider-Society HQ. Lyla's condescending remark lingers in the air, stinging with a touch of truth—it was no secret that physical prowess was not your strong suit after working an office job for the past couple of years, especially in a place teeming with people who could soar through the air or scale walls with ease.

"Well, probably because I am the least athletic person you've met in your years of activity; you work with superhumans!" you retort, gasping for air between words. "And whose idea was it to build some of the floors upside down anyway? Again, there is no way this is up to building code!"

"Most people here usually just swing from place to place," she remarks casually, as if swinging from webs is a universally accepted mode of transportation. 

You slump down the wall, grateful for the support it provides, fanning yourself with your hands in an attempt to alleviate the heat radiating from your flushed face. 

As soon as Lyla had informed you of the other woman's awakening, your instinct to check up on her immediately kicked in. It felt like the natural thing to do, drawing from your experience as a volunteer member of the office emergency response team back home—a role that, admittedly, does look good on a resume. You and the other woman were stranded in this strange and futuristic world, and in each other's presence, you could potentially find a semblance of familiarity, a connection amidst the unknown.

Of course, your motivations were entirely altruistic, driven solely by the desire to ensure her well-being and offer support in this perplexing predicament. It had nothing to do with the fact that you were eager to see Spiderman after over a week of no contact. 

Absolutely nothing. 

Right?

You promptly try to shake off the thought. Maybe you were still overthinking what Lyla had told you about him earlier. But for now, your primary focus should lie exclusively on the well-being of your fellow castaway.

With a final heave, you push yourself off the wall facing the large gate of the infirmary, mustering the strength to stand upright. Taking a deep breath, you shoot a determined gaze at Lyla.

"Alright, C-3PO." You declare theatrically. “Let’s go check on my—.”

“What are you doing here, exactly?”

You jolt in surprise at the deep voice emanating from behind you. Quickly turning on your heels, you find yourself face to face with the towering man who had been the subject of most of your thoughts for the past hour or so, arms tightly crossed on his chest, looking at you through his intimidating yet somehow familiar mask. 

“Oh.” You manage to let out, your heart rate quickening. “I…I could ask you the same thing.”

“I work here.” He responds matter-of-factly, his tone carrying a hint of confusion. Lyla materializes next to him, her digital form bearing a mischievous smile.

You mentally berate yourself for the nonsensical remark. What were you even trying to say?

“I mean—” You stammer, attempting to regain your composure as you lean against the nearby wall. “Haven’t seen you around in a minute. Or since I got here, really.”

He sure knew how to hold eye contact.

"Some of us are busy working," he states, taking a step toward the entrance of the infirmary. "Just like others are busy vandalizing private property."

You scoff, trailing behind him as you try to keep up with his brisk pace.

“What you call vandalizing, I call peacefully protesting. And I’ve apologized already, haven’t I?”

“Yelling ‘sue me’ through the intercom isn’t exactly the definition of apologizing, is it?” He retorts, his gaze fixed straight ahead.

You follow him through a long white hall with large windows on one side as he checks some information on his complex-looking watch, aided by Lyla.

"Fine, maybe I haven't formally apologized," you concede, maintaining your quick stride while skillfully evading a few Spider-People approaching from the opposite direction. "But let's not forget that you haven't apologized to me either for confining me to a room for an entire week! Yet, you don't see me complaining, do you?"

“Seems to me like you are complaining right now.”

"And rightfully so!" you retort, your voice laced with frustration.

With a sigh, he abruptly halts, causing you to nearly collide into his back. You look up and find yourself facing a large glass wall, beyond which lies the woman you've come to see, lying in her pristine white infirmary bed. Her gaze is fixed on the view beyond the window to her left.

"Listen," the man begins, turning to face the same direction as you. "Right now, all I'm trying to do is find a way to send you home as soon as possible. So if this conversation can wait, I need to speak with your friend and see if she can provide any leads on where to start. Understood?"

You stare at him in silence for a few seconds.

“Wait, you… you mean you’re gonna go in there to talk to her? Right now?”

He turns his head towards you, confusion etched on his masked face.

“Is there a problem?”

Unable to contain your amusement, you burst into laughter, much to his dismay.

“You’ve got this strange habit of laughing after I say something completely normal, you know that? What the shock is so funny?”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I just hope you’ve got a few extra doses of that tranquilizer on hand, you know—for when she turns around and loses her mind when she sees a ten-foot-tall masked man in a blue spandex suit at her bedside and thinks she’s getting dragged to purgatory.” Tilting your head, you give him a wry smile. “If your plan is to send her right back into a coma, go right ahead.”

Lyla flickers into existence next to you, her hands on her hips, chiming in with a nod of agreement.

“She’s got a point.” 

He stares at you for a moment, then at the glass wall facing him.

“What do you suggest, then?”

“That I be the one to go in there and talk to her.” A surge of determination fuels your words as you take a step closer to him, your eyes locking onto his hidden gaze. 

He looks back at you, holding eye contact against his better judgment. Has he seen your face from so close before? Of course he did, he’d carried you in his arms twice in the span of two days when you had first arrived. And whenever time allowed it, he would monitor your quarters to watch for any potential glitch or anomalous event—he had seen and heard plenty of you. 

Yet his gaze wanders, tracing the contours of your slightly flushed cheeks, the fluttering of your eyelashes, and the shape of your lips. These were the subtle details that surveillance cameras could never quite capture, and they held a captivating allure when observed up close. But amidst all these visual observations, one thing captivates him more than anything else.

Your scent.

It's not the fragrance of your perfume or the smell of your clothes. It's your natural scent, the essence that is uniquely yours. He had noticed it lingering around the headquarters, surfacing in his senses shortly after your arrival, and it inexplicably clung to him throughout the day—even after he retreated to the solace of his own home. The aroma was unfamiliar to him, yet strangely soothing.

The weight of his unspoken response lingers in the air, the silence stretching between you. However, the moment is interrupted by Lyla, who breaks the stillness with a snap of her virtual fingers and a prompt reminder of the task at hand.

“Earth to Spiderman.” Lyla chimes in, her voice bringing him back to the present. “So? What do you say, big guy?”

He takes a step back, his gaze shifting away from yours, as if attempting to regain his composure.

“Yeah, sure. I don’t see why not.” He finally responds, his voice slightly gruff as he clears his throat.

Lyla raises her eyebrows, expressing her surprise at his quick compliance. You shoot him a satisfied smile.

“I knew you had some common sense hidden under that scary mask of yours.”

You start walking towards the sliding door of the woman’s room, but are promptly stopped by a firm hand on your shoulder. 

“Wait.”

You turn your head to face him with an inquisitive frown, expecting a change of mind, but are rather met with what you recognize as an expression of concern.

“Listen, I…I trust you’ll do good in there. ” He pauses, his hand softly resting on your shoulder as he looks down at you. “But if anything feels off…I need you to let me know. Immediately.”

The concern in his voice resonates within you. It's evident that his words extend beyond the mere well-being of the woman in the room; there's a vulnerability in his voice that suggests he cares more than he's letting on. Remembering what Lyla had mentioned earlier about Spiderman's solitary existence and his reluctance to rely on others, you can't help but wonder if he sees in you someone he can trust, someone he can confide in—even if just for this moment.

You're tempted to lean into his touch, to let yourself be enveloped by the warmth and comfort it promises. But you swiftly pull back, reminding yourself of the boundaries and the temporary nature of your alliance. You know that indulging in these fleeting emotions could complicate matters and distract you from the task at hand.

You give him a small smile, hoping to ease the tension in the air. "Pinky promise," you say playfully, raising your pinky finger in a gesture of camaraderie.

A faint unseen smile tugs at the corner of his lips, hidden behind the mask, as he hooks his pinky finger around yours, sealing the unspoken agreement between you.

He nods in acknowledgement, but the concern in his eyes remains. It's almost as if he's reluctant to let you go, to entrust you with this task. But you reassure yourself that it's merely his sense of responsibility, his desire to ensure everyone's safety, that drives his concern.

"Better keep to your word." He steps back slightly as if to maintain a respectful distance.

Before either of you can say anything else, Lyla's voice breaks the spell, reminding you of your initial purpose.

"If you keep this going any longer she’s gonna go to sleep again.”

You nervously wipe your palms on your jumpsuit in anticipation and slowly make your way to the door. You shoot one last look at the Spiderman, stiffly standing in front of the entrance with arms crossed. He gives you one last nod before you make your way inside the room.

“I’m counting on you, Temp.”

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

A.N: Phew, longest chapter so far (I haven't slept in weeks). Felt like delving more into YN's relationship with Lyla as well as fleshing out Nueva York a bit—as I told a reader on Ao3, it seems a lot of people who've only seen ATSV think of Nueva York as a sort of solar-punk utopia of the future, while it's actually pretty messed up from up close.

Hope y'all like playing with fire cause the slow burn is burning!

As always, faster updates on Ao3!!!

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfic #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fluff #spiderverse #miguel o'hara angst #spiderman 2099