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neo-nomatrix · 1 year

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(My) Nuisance

Hobie brown x reader

word count: 964

find the rest of the mini series here

synopsis: You thought you hated Hobie, but for some reason you’re starting to like him just as much as you like Spiderman.

a/n: (maybe too much) british slang used

You hate your next door neighbor. No, no you loathe your next door neighbor. You think he is the worst person to possibly exist. His stupid flat decorations, his loud punk-rock music blasting at unruly hours, the way he would come back to his flat at 4 am stomping his boots yelling with his friends about their latest anarchist protest. But you hate nothing more than the way he looks at you.

Everytime you try yelling at him he opens his door with the cheekiest grin on his face. While you’re standing there fuming he’s leaning against the door panel looking you up and down. The worst part is how much he tries to smooth talk you.

“I already told you how annoying your music is, no one wants to hear that at 3 am alright? Some of us have work in the morning,” you complain, smoke practically coming out of your ears.

“Oh c’mon love it’s not that bad. Don’t have to be such a tosser ‘bout it. It messes up that pretty face of yours,” he says.

“Are you daft? You’re the one keeping everyone up at night with your dumb guitar,” you roll your eyes.

“It’s not that big a deal sweetheart. Y’know i'm starting to think you’re making up rubbish just so you can talk to me more. I’ll admit it’s pretty cute but you could just ask me out,” he leans closer to your flushed face.

“I don’t fancy you if that’s what you mean,” you scoff.

“Not saying that. I’m saying if you wanna snog me so bad you could just say so,” he shrugs.

You could burst out laughing. Kiss him? That’s fucking hilarious.

“You’re joking right? i’d rather die.”

“I don’t believe in comedy, love,” he says.

“Of course you don’t,” you mumble as you storm off back to your door.

You’ve decided he is the worst person ever. He doesn’t deserve your efforts and time.

You set your keys down and fall into bed as you hear amp feedback and the sounds of Hobie strumming his guitar. You can’t help but roll your eyes. How could someone be so incompetent?

You reach your hand over to where the bed and the wall meet to grab your Spiderman plush. You hate to admit it because it’s kind of dumb but you’ve always loved spiderman. Ever since you were a little kid you collected posters, figures, pins, and merchandise having to do with the superhero. Even now, your walls are decorated in spiderman posters, you own spiderman clothing, and even printed your keys to have a blue and red spider web on them.

There was something so nostalgic to the vigilante and his style that you had to adorn your room with touches of blue and red. You thought spiderman was the embodiment of “cool.” From his suit to the way he acted around criminals to the electric guitar on his back. Sure, a guitar was the main thing you hated about Hobie but Spiderman did it better. He made it work in the way Hobie dreams of.

You wake up to the loudest knock on your front door you’ve ever heard. You immediately know it’s him. You try to ignore the blaring pounding coming from your door but it keeps going. You force yourself to get up and answer the door. You hope you can open it, yell at him, then go back to bed.

To your dismay the second you open the door Hobie places his hand on the top of the wood, stopping you from moving it anywhere else.

“What do you want this early?” you groan.

“It’s like 9 am, love. But anyway-” He cuts himself off before finishing his sentence. You’re too groggy to notice that he’s staring inside of your flat. His eyes search the walls and decor in front of him.

“So, I take it you like Spiderman?” He laughs.

“That’s none of your business,” you sigh, crossing your arms.

He pushes his way inside of your flat, moving around like he’s looking for buried treasure. He picks up memorabilia and smiles at them. He holds up a Spider-Punk figurine and turns towards you.

“Spider-Punk huh?”

“Don’t touch my stuff! You know this is technically breaking and entering,” you scold him, taking the figure out of his hand.

He puts his hands in his pockets and just smirks at you. That stupid smirk, displaying half of his teeth and perfectly showing his lip ring.

“What do you want from me, Hobie?” you question after placing the figure back on its stand.

“Jus- Just wanted to apologize for last night,” he starts.

“You mean this morning? We talked at 1 am, remember?” You say, passive aggressively.

“Right, whatever. You’re… You’re right,” he exhaled, “I shouldn’t be blasting my music that early. It’s inconsiderate and rude to the people in my vicinity,” he breathes.

In the time you’ve known him you don’t think you’ve ever heard him say sorry. You’re taken aback, did he really apologize? And did he sound genuinely sorry?

“Oh, oh uhm thanks,” you sat, still skeptical a camera crew would come out laughing saying this whole thing was a prank.

“I wanted to see if you maybe wanted to come to my show tonight? We could get dinner after or whatever you want,” He scratches the back of his neck, he’s nervous.

“I’d like that, I guess,” you reluctantly say.

“Wicked. Uhm, i’ll be leaving then. Sorry again,” he says. Shooting finger guns at you and making his way out the door.

You smile, maybe, just maybe, Hobies getting to you. As he’s leaving you could swear you see some blue and red material with spikes on it slipping out of his pocket.

#spiderman x y/n #spiderman atsv #spiderverse x reader #spiderman x reader #hobie brown #atsv hobie #hobie spiderverse #hobie x reader #spider punk #spiderpunk x reader #spiderpunk x y/n #marvel x reader #spiderman atsv x reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x y/n #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman x you

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robocops-a-christ-allegory · 1 year

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I am reading the new Jaime miniseries. Literally so mad Victoria Kord got introduced in there as Teds sister now my evil girlboss Ted for the movie theory has holes

#MAYBE ITS JUST WEIRD SYNERGY AND SHES STILL TED IN THE MOVIE-#MAYBE-#also yeah I like this miniseries so far but I’m still like Jaime adjacent #I’m really glad his sidecast are here but I’m annoyed about Ted being given a kinda mentor role #And not because He’s Taking It From My Guy #but like it does look like they’re setting something up so I’m not gonna judge yet. I just don’t want Jaime to get like #MCU Spiderman’d. I like everything else #oh I also don’t like the art but.#it’s mostly I think the artist pushes expressions in a weird uncanny way it’d be fine the faces are just often #very Strange #I think they’re trying to do manga faces in like American Superhero Comic Art Style #feels very 2000s

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dimepdf · 1 year

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★ 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇-𝐀, 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇-𝐀, 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐄. + 𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐎'𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀

masterlist. / taglist. / tip jar. synopsis. no matter how many times you try to convince yourself that Miguel is the bane of your existence, the way you react during training proves otherwise.

─── ☆ notes. i need fics of miguel being an absolute dick, like a petty bitch just for the hell of it i need more attitude yk? Like if that man isn't calling me a slut it ain't canon! | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍

─── ☆ length. 4.3k (33 min read).

─── ☆ genre and warnings. +18 nsfw under the cut. minors dni | no spoilers | smut, enemies to lovers, maybe mutual pining, fighting and violence, semi public sex, gym sex, mentions of abuse, size difference, pain kink, strength kink, degradation kink, manhandling, power play(?), begging, rough sex, cervix kissing, choking, fangs, biting, marking, cunnilingus, eye contact, hair pulling, creampie, open ended, not an taiyo fic without a few typos.

IF YOU ASKED any of the other Spider-men what they loved so much about being Spider-Man, their answers would all be the same, ranging from "the suit" to "the enhanced abilities." It was a no-brainer that being a superhero came with a few awesome perks.

Which was why your answer was just a bit confusing, "the combat." You would always smile, despite the many eyebrows raises and looks that convinced you you had to be some type of overcover masochist, especially since you would never really go into true detail about why.

Your reasoning behind putting on the mask was similar to all the others: another traumatized kid being thrown into a whole new reality that you never would have dreamed of being possible.

Sadly, you had been raised with the loss of most of your loved ones, and your family was in shambles from the abuse you would go through from them. It was the reason why it was difficult for you to grow up and make many friends, let alone navigate your abilities on your own accord, which was why it was a whole different ball game when you first joined the spider society.

When you first met Miguel O'Hara, you thought he was an overly intimidating man with an even more scary personality. Your aesthetics and morals would clash in the first few run-ins you would have with him.

In all honesty, you first thought him to be a massive dick who surprisingly needed more therapy than you did. From his bored expression to his unnerving glare, it was clear upon the first introduction that you two just would not get along.

Which was why the universe made him the only spider person willing and with enough free time to train you. It came as a surprise to you both, who are usually butting heads. Miguel was adamant about not wanting to waste his time training some little girl who didn't even know how to throw a punch.

With much shit-talking on your part and a lot of teasing claims of him being afraid that you were going to kick your ass, training had quite literally started in full swing.

It was probably a bad move on your part to push the buttons of the guy who was teaching you how to fight. Miguel was clear with his fight-style techniques. He was nimble with his limbs and swift on his feet. It was hard for anyone to get a hit on him, especially since he wasn't the type to hold back his punches.

His teaching style was the same: your sessions included throwing you around as if you were some ragdoll and picking you up as if you weighed nothing, just to slam you into the ground with full bruising force.

There would be some very rare occasions when you would manage to get the upper hand on him. Miguel was about a foot taller than you, not to mention how pathetically compressed you looked standing next to him. You learned that the only way you could manage to get the upper hand was by using your size difference to your advantage.

All the sessions you won were hosted by you managing to tangle yourself from his claws and climb his towering figure into a headlock, praying that you had enough strength in your legs to make him tap out.

"How is she not dead yet?" Miles would mutter, looking concerned, as he stood from the sidelines of the training room, watching one of your sessions, as the blonde by his side didn't even wince at the sound of Miguel untangling you from the headlock you had him in.

His arms moved faster than you could process as he managed to loosen your hold enough to slam the air from your lungs as you fell back facing against the mat so hard that even Miles was convinced he could feel the blow in the lower spine.

"I mean, at this point, I'm kind of convinced she’s turned into his personal punching bag." Miles strains to watch Miguel not even wipe a sweat as he sprung back on his feet. He stretched out his full body, towering over you, curled flat against the mat, trying to collect your breathing as well as your broken ego.

Gwen nodded in agreement. "I don't even know how someone could hit someone so...squishy? She’s just so cute." She muttered, watching with her arms crossed.

"This punching bag needs to learn that in the real world, people aren't going to go as easy on her just because she’s cute." Miguel, despite glaring at the two bystanders, leaned down and yanked you back onto your stumbling feet.

Your fingers combed through the matted curls now drenched in sweat away from your forehead, using your water break as the perfect excuse to help cover up the reaction to the sudden compliment that came from his lips and the way he had made you feel.

"And her being my personal punching bag is completely at her fault, if you want to learn how to fight, you have to learn how to take a few punches." You couldn't help but roll your eyes and wave your hand out in annoyance at another one of Miguel O’Hara’s famous lectures.

"I’m not a punching bag, did you not see the hold I had on him early?" You huffed, almost choking on your water, trying to protest. Gwen humored your claim, the blonde reaching out and rubbing your shoulder out of support as you continued with your defense. "Any tighter, and I would have easily snapped his neck."

Of course, Miguel only smirked as you continued grasping at straws at the point of trying to prove to your friends your improvement, his eyes flitting back and forth at the exchange, expressionless at the sight of you managing to still joke around as if you weren't about to pass out from fatigue at any second.

"And was that before or after the part where I kicked your ass, little girl?" He shot out, chipping away at the final lock that held back your annoyance, you hadn't even had time to process the insult before he bumped his shoulder into you on his way out of the training room.

His rude exit enticed a round of reactions from Miles and Gwen trying their awkward best to comfort the boiling pot of anger they saw written all over your face, rolling your eyes, you pushed past the two, not without grumbling a string of insults in Miguel’s name to the washrooms.

You blessed the spider lords for somehow having the ability to shower under running water, let alone the unexplainable strange amount of amenities that the spider society dimensions had.

Like a web shooter's wonderland, you quickly shed the sweating clothes you trained in and stepped foot into the cold cubicle shower booth, letting the water run for a bit until enough steam fogged clouded stepping under the stream. Even with the hot water splashing pressure against your aching muscles, no amount of water could manage to wash away the annoying feeling in your legs.

It was enough of a jab at your pride to even find Miguel attractive in the first place, and here your body was betraying you once more, begging, throbbing desperately for his every touch in its every form, and having the nerve to grow more intense during your training.

The feeling had yet to fully disappear the next day, even with your session starting off with you fueled from yesterday's comments. You tried pushing the feeling as you were just ready to have Miguel mutter another word insult with the ass kick you were ready to give him. It was the only possible explanation for why you were so jittery about getting to training on time.

"It took you long enough." Was the first thing you heard Miguel announce throughout the empty room.

He wasn’t wearing his suit—neither of you did while training—instead, he was wearing dark gray sweatpants paired with some random dark red graphic shirt that fit him a bit too snuggly to leave room for imagination around his arms.

"Almost thought you were gonna skip out."

You were aware enough to spot this quick observation of your outfit as well. Keeping it casual and opting for better mobility, you shimmied yourself into plain Nike shorts that stopped higher up than you had expected them to on your thighs with a loose tank top that peeked out the straps of your sports bra.

Nothing about your clothes screamed attention grabbing—at least that's what you thought before you caught Miguel’s red-tinted stare on the way your shorts hugged your thighs.

He glanced away, muttering something in Spanish you couldn't quite translate the moment your fingers fidgeted with the bottom hems of the shorts, tugging them slightly more down while deciding to break the tense silence that had managed to sneak up on you. "So what are we doing today?"

"Huh, I’ve been thinking." He answered, followed by the clearing of his throat, "We try something a little different." You could never get used to the roughness of his voice or the way he spoke with so much arrogance that it reminded just about everyone that he thought he was better than just about everyone.

Even now that you stepped towards the middle of the mat, standing rigidly just a few paces away from him, you could tell from that stupid, cocky expression as he stood looking down at you that there was no possible way that he would ever see you as a real threat. "I want you to try to hit me."

Your brows creased together in confusion.

"What?" was all you asked, which seemed to be the wrong question to ask as Miguel stretched out a sigh from his mouth, his hands coming close to his to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"I said hit me." He speaks more slowly, making sure to mockingly over pronounce every symbol in every word as if you were a child. "Preferably soon and as hard as you can." A grimace finds itself twisting on your lips before you can even process your bubbling annoyance. Your body moved on autopilot because of your keen senses, jumping over the swing of his left leg with ease.

You couldn't say that swift grace stuck with your attempt at a counterattack. Bending your knee just enough to reach out and kick, you were only met with the bottom of your foot stomping flat against the floor mat and Miguel dodging your kick, standing just a few paces away. "Too predictable," he scolded in that annoyingly deep voice you hated oh so much and totally did not turn on you at all. You sprung yourself up by the heels of your feet and charged at him with full determination to land at least one punch on his stupidly chiseled, handsome face.

It had been your second mistake, giving him too much time to brace himself. Already regretting your emotionally impulsive start, resulting in the punch you swung being easily deflected by Miguel.

His hand wrapped entirely around your wrist, bending your arm almost out of your socket and kicking the back of your knee to the mat with his heel. You feel down to a kneel with a hissing pain in your arm threatening to get worse at any wrong twist.

"Lose that fucking attitude, or you’ll get sloppy." As if your body could radiate any more anger, you knew he was just trying to push your buttons, trying to throw you off your game with smack talk that was not working on you or anything.

"Again," he prompted, letting your arm go and stepping back, egging on another attack from you.

"Give me a damn minute." No matter how much you wanted to snap back at him with something snarky, you knew it would only prove his point entirely—not only that but also the fact that he was mentally hitting you in all the places that he knew counted the most to throw you off your game.

Biting back the insult you already had threatened to slip from your tongue instead of making a point by rolling your eyes as you stumbled back to your feet. Rolling your sore shoulder back as your eyes scan over his stance, trying to find the best opening for a better attack, you steady your breath and cloud your mind in thought. "You aren't going to get anywhere but dead standing around like that, you know."

So much for wanting to consider your options. Miguel took the first swing at you and was on the verge of kicking you on your ass if it weren't for your shoddy dodge.

"Didn't you just say I had to be less fucking predictable?" You snarled, lifting your foot with most of your weight pointed in the direction of his jaw. Surprisingly, the kick landed just not in the place you wanted it to; instead, Miguel’s arm blocked the blow, much to your annoyance.

"I also said—" All he was doing was using dodging moves on you, swiping your other foot from under you as he held the other one that you kicked up in his arm, resulting in you landing once again flat on your ass. "to lose that fucking attitude."

You had not gone down without a fight, twisting and kicking, trying to wrestle your limbs free by any means. Miguel had almost embarrassingly quickly ceased your squirming, his palm cuffing your arms and pressing hard against your chest as his other hand pressed tightly into your thighs, folding your legs in place under his hips.

The position was interesting, to say the least, but you still had some fight in you, wiggling against his grip with any strength you had left to break free. It was a useless battle, but the man had his grip around you tight as well as an overpowering size difference that blanketed your entire figure like one big rock.

And that's how you caught yourself in another web of misfortune. Your nerves are surging at the feeling of something—him brushing against your calf. Maybe it was all the adrenaline pumping through your veins or the fact that you were practically being manhandled so easily that did another thing to your body, or maybe it was just pure horny instability that your brain couldn't even process the lewd whine that tugged from your throat after the fact that it had happened.

Watching in pure horror as Miguel loomed on top of you, his mouth slightly agape as his chest heaved and his brows pulled together, the embarrassment from his confused, almost offended looking expression hit you fast. Here your body was betraying you once more, this time going absolutely haywire and melting like a stupid pile of putty at the fact that you were being body pressed against some mat with some guy's hard junk pressed into your leg.

You couldn't bear to even look him in the eye anymore, your head tilting to the side, pressing your cheek into the mat, and squeezing your eyes closed, not suddenly envying the spidermen with teleportation powers. "Fucking Christ, can you get off now?"

A beat of silence hovered between the small distance between you two, neither moving nor talking. It was starting to become unbearable how tightly Miguel had folded your legs against him, in the sense that you could already feel his body heat radiating. The close proximity did not help with how unbearably your heart was beating against your chest. "How do you manage after all of that to still have that shameless fucking attitude?"

You stilled at how his voice had managed to cut through your own thick cloud of betraying thoughts as well as the ringing in your eardrums. "Shameless? As if you don't have your dick pressed against me right now."

"By the sounds of it, you don't seem that bothered at all." Miguel taunted, You thought you were bound to die of embarrassment.

Yeah, this is how you went out—by dying from the sheer effect of your own extremely horny though—not some overpowered supervillain with a vendetta against you but Miguel O'Hara and his dick print.

You could already hear the new taunts that he would use against you, "Not even in your fucking dreams." being the only comeback that you could muster, your limbs tingling with slight pins and needles, threatening to go stiff under his unbound grasp.

"Oh, like you wouldn't love to," he sneered, shifting the weight from his hips flat against your thighs. "Probably thinking about me taking off these tight fucking shorts and having my way with you?" Your body reacted first to the accusation, cursing under your breath as you felt your second heartbeat flutter in between your legs.

His lingering stare hadn't helped one bit, and you watched from the sidelines as his eyes raked over your body with interest.

"I bet this was your plan the entire fucking time, huh?" He asked, leaning in as the distance dwindled until you could feel the brush of his breath against your face. "Put on some sweet naive act in front of everyone, knowing that you're getting yourself off on me throwing you around, touching yourself like some bitch in heat."

You hadn't bothered covering the whine that parted from your lips at the feeling of his erection slowly rutting against your thigh, the cocky smirk on his lips wanting you to melt away against the mat.

Miguel practically growled at the pathetic sounds that parted from your lips, tugging your legs apart to rut his hips down against your core. You shivered at the intrusion of his bulge pressed against your eagerness, the foreign feeling of him grinding against you left your thoughts in a dizzy fog.

"What? Can’t fucking speak now," he said as if he were dangling your most prized possession in front of your face, his fingers creeping into dangerous territory, making it a point for his fingertips to drag down your lower torso only to halt right above the elastic waistband of your shorts. "Go on, use your words."

"...fuck you."

The small amount of distance made the space between you two fall tensely thick, and the words spoken from your lips were different from the feelings that made your heart thud against your ribs. You weren't stupid, you knew Miguel could sense it, he could sense just about everything about your body from how close he kneeled on top of you.

Maybe that was why he had closed the distance so quickly after, letting the tight grip around your wrists give way to his hand finding a new objective, wrapping his fingers around your neck, not bothering to be gentle as he guided your lips towards his. The kiss was as rough as you had dreamed it to be. Eager for each other's kiss, you couldn't even process the noise that vibrated sharply from your throat before Miguel could pull away first, leaving you panting for more of his touch.

"First time I've ever seen you so quiet," his deep taunts were starting to grow unbearable, shifting your hips at the brush of his fangs against the jugular of your neck with every word, "who knew all you needed was some dick?" The harsh kisses he left trailing down to your collarbone made you feel like a hot, needy mess of putty. If it weren't for the tight grasp he had on your body, you were convinced that you would feel like you'd melt into some type of puddle. The growing frustration had only started to build up more as Miguel let go of your thighs, his hand trailing between your legs ruthlessly as the bud of his fingers rubbed against your clothed pussy.

As for why you shifted your hips up and let him impatiently tug and yank at the bow knotted around the waist of your shorts, breaking away from the red splotching light bruises already forming against your brown skin and wiggling you out of your shorts, Miguel thought it was quite the image, his eyes were fixated on the drooling sight of you under him, so vulnerable with your thighs hugging to your chest, spread open, revealing yourself in your pants.

All sanity was thrown out the window the moment he tugged you closer by your knees, your lower half lifted in his arms just enough for him to sit face to face with your cunt. His eyes darkened, his pupils blown as his tongue lapped over his lips, leaving you feeling restless. It was a slow and almost painful battle of trying to reach down and shove his face closer or buck your hips as his fingers sheathed and explored themselves against the fabric of your underwear.

As if Miguel could read your mind, his fingers hooked the fabric under the bend of his finger, followed by a quick tearing sound. "I’ll get you new ones," the comfort emitting a whine from your throat as you couldn't even scowl at him for ruining your underwear because you were too busy admiring the work his fingers were doing. Without warning, Miguel leans in closer, the warmth of his mouth almost sending you into a frenzy as his fingers spread open your lips, his lips sucking at your clitoral area, prompting you to let out a very lewd moan.

"Too loud," Miguel mumbled against your pussy, too busy webbed up in your own pleasure to even notice how every embarrassedly sloppy wet noise had seemed to perfectly echo throughout the empty room. You couldn't even explain the number of emotions that were flowing through you, from shame from being tongue fucked and fingered against the floor about the one man you hated so much to bashfulness from holding eye contact with him as he lay between your legs and ate your pussy like he was starving for you.

"I can't help it," you whined, shivering at the string of spit that contacted Miguel as he lifted his head in an idea. It took a second to process Miguel picking you up and turning you on your stomach, his hands guiding your hips up and stripping your torn panties down your legs to stuff them in your mouth.

Without a word, Miguel grabbed your ass with another hand, guiding your lower back into an arch as the other made small indents from his nail bearing into your cheeks as he spread them apart.

Before you could even feel embarrassed at the new position, he shoved his face between them, your moan being muffled by your makeshift cloth gag that worked a bit too well in lowering your whines as Miguel’s mouth sought his tongue out for your pussy once more.

"You're close I can smell it," you almost missed Miguel's groan over your building ecstasy, "just let it go, baby, let me take care of you. That's what you want, right?" His voice is drastically different from his usual rough, rude tone, softened to something of a coo that has managed to unknot your pleasure with his tongue. Your body tensed against his mouth for a moment as he had the nerve to suck his fingers clean. No grace period was given before he could lift you once more with a grunt, laying you flat on your back.

Slotting himself back between his legs, Miguel chuckled at the dazed look on your face. "It's alright, baby, I can take it from here." taking the balled up drool covered panties from your mouth and instead replaced them with his lips. The sensual change of pace wasn't enough to stop the shiver that rid your nerves of the feeling of his bare cock rutting against your slit, using his thumb to spread your lips apart to sink his tip inside of you with a low hiss against your mouth.

A gasp left yours as his girthy length intruded deeper inside of you, the burying stretch of his dick having your nails roughly grasping at the nape neck of his hair tugging a handful as his pace hadn't bothered to even get familiar already. Miguel’s hips weren't letting out as he fucked you almost animalistic against the floor. You were convinced he was trying to fuck you into the mat, to be one with the floor, which would perfectly explain the rough pace that left you breathless with each piston of his hips.

The graphically lewd sounds of your weak groans were nothing compared to the pornographic sound of your skin meeting his, your brain empty with nothing but greed, wanting to take everything and more of what Miguel was giving you. His fingers reach to unwrap your fingers tangled in his hair to intertwine them in his. "That's it, mama, that's it," he whispers against the shell of your ear, earning a whimpering reply from you, almost close to spilling the tears clouding your waterline.

Your mind couldn't process anything other than how good Miguel’s dick felt being shoved inside of you, his cock dragging against your tight, flustering walls with each shaky breath brushed against your ear. Your cunt seemed to react to Miguel’s lashes tickling against your neck as his eyes screwed tightly shut, muttering a string of compliments in his mother tongue.

You weren't lucky enough to be more stable, surprised that your throat hasn't gone horse with how ruined your vocal cords sounded in the pace of his pistoning hips. Only going up an octave higher as one of Miguel’s hands reaches down to pay attention to your clit, he doesn't stop even when your limbs start to tremble from your climax.

With one last hard thrust, he finally stills, your name being the only thing you could make out through his mumbling as his unfamiliar warm sensation welcomed itself inside of you.

Groaning right in your ear, he cums inside of you with his entire dead weight pressed against you, caging you against the floor. "Alright," Miguel sighs, settling on top of you once more with his arms holding himself just a few inches away from your face. "Again."

🔖 @adonis-is-dead-lmaoo @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @inumakiiz @iheartlinds @creamyarishi @marzipaanz

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#[ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ ★ — t.wrks. ]#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #spiderman smut #marvel #into the spider verse

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bleekay · 1 year

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i started this waaaaay back when i first binged miraculous ladybug. couldn't get over the dynamic of superhero duo who don't know each other's secret identities but do also know each other in their normal lives, and they're in love but they aren't but they are they just don't know it.

you know, i originally was spending so much time trying to think of sokka's alter ego, and i put grey wolf in as a filler but then i realized how Sokka it was. like this other dude in a costume introduces himself like "hey, I'm the Blue Spirit" and sokka who hasn't had time to process yet that he's a superhero and is indeed the worst at naming things, goes, "oh, Blue Spirit? Hi. I'm..... Grey.... Wolf." and then zuko would be like "You just used my name as a template! You just changed the color and the creature!!!" and sokka's like "Whaaaaat! Nooooo. No. I actually had this idea before you even said anything, which means actually you are the one copying me!" and zuko demands he change his name, think of something better, but the news is there so it's already circulating and people are saying what a nice pair they make

[id: digital fanart of Sokka and Zuko from Avatar the Last Airbender, split into two sections. The top section is a 4-panel comic, from an interview-style perspective asking questions individually of Sokka and Zuko, both wearing modern clothes. Panel 1 asks Sokka, “What do you think about Zuko?” He shrugs and looks away thoughtfully, answering, “Zuko? Hm. I don’t know him too well. I guess he’s pretty cool.” Panel 2 asks Zuko, “What do you think about Sokka?” He scratches at the back of his neck and looks away, blushing with a sheepish grin, and answers, ”Ah… He’s… he’s nice.” A little heart indicates his true feelings. Panel 3 asks Sokka, “What about the Blue Spirit?” Sokka clasps his face between his hands, eyes shiny and half-lidded, cheeks red, a squiggly smile on his face and hearts all around, and answers, “… LOML.” Panel 4 asks Zuko, “What about Grey Wolf?” Zuko’s face is stern, his hand balled in a fist, and he answers, “Annoying.” There’s two small captions on the bottom that read (he’s kidding) (… maybe). The bottom section is a depiction of Sokka and Zuko together as their alter egos, Grey Wolf and the Blue Spirit respectively. Grey Wolf has a wolf mask that covers the top half of his face, a skintight blue, grey, and white suit, with leather straps to hold weapons and white fur on his shoulders and wrists, as well as a fluffy tail. The Blue Spirit is in the canon mask, plus a skintight blue and black suit, with a sword strapped to his back. Grey Wolf has one arm around Blue Spirit’s back grabbing his shoulder, and his other hand is gently poking at the Blue Spirit’s cheek. Grey Wolf is grinning and has a little heart indicating he’s enjoying this. The Blue Spirit is standing with his arms crossed and a scribble indicating he’s annoyed. The background is a vague cityscape at sunset. end id]

#zukka #blee arts #sorry for the long post #i cant design a costume to save my life rip #but its more about the vibes anyway #theyre superheroes you get it

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on-leatheredwings · 3 months

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Co-Conspirator

Yandere! Bruce Wayne x Yandere! (Fem!) Reader

> romantic > summary: Ever since you asked him to help with your… reconnaissance, he’s been nothing but a great help. And judgment-free. Batman is as paranoid and insane as you are, and that is why he is quite possibly your best friend. > word count: 1285 > [ a/n: just something short, something cute, something for the Girls. i think mutually yandere relationships are a fun dynamic not very explored!!! Still, its pretty mild yandereism here. Trying to warm up to writing bitches who are Actual Freaks . uhhh lmk what you think. hope i communicated the reader's backstory well. the fact she's only a little crazy is amazing, all things considered. i'd love to make a whole fic of this but alas, i am Not Very Good At Plot]

You are dating Bruce Wayne. You bite your lip at the thought, hoping it disguises your shit-eating grin. You have been told you look like a total cheeseball when you daydream.

It’s a month-long relationship that’s still currently under the radar because you don’t have the luxury of a dual superhero-civilian persona. First, getting trapped in a pocket dimension for 10 years because something-something-Speedforce; next, being booted back into your home dimension and falling out the sky; then, wreaking havoc in Gotham City with your new, uncontrollable powers unmasked and in clear view of Gotham City choppers and news cameras… These things secretive identities do not make. No matter.

Hence why you tend to stay holed up in the Justice League’s Watchtower or your apartment, and rarely go out otherwise. But a month ago, you were bored. Neurotic. You decided to help your good buddy Batman. Fly to Gotham with your power and surprise him on patrol. And, well, you ended up saving Bruce Wayne (and hundreds of other socialites) after a three ton bowling ball careened into a gala at Wayne Tower, courtesy of the Riddler. Your telekinesis kept the whole building from collapsing. You guess that must’ve really turned Bruce Wayne on, because he was shortly afterwards chatting you up and won your phone number.

On your first date with Gotham’s Most Eligible Bachelor, you blurt out, flustering, that you don’t want to overshadow his charity and all the good work he’s doing. Bruce Wayne dating anyone makes headlines – let alone a superhero. Yes, yes. You simply didn’t want to cramp Bruce Wayne’s philanthropic style. It wasn’t that you were utterly unprepared to have that level of media scrutiny on you and were insecure about dating a man completely out of your league.

Bruce thanked you for your concern and then kissed you deeply, expertly, for your trouble.

You replay that night’s events in your head, and– goddamnit– cheeseball. You clear your throat and clear your mind.

“I think I’ll want a copy of his birth certificate from Gotham General.”

You glance at Batman, who is seated beside you, and see the corner of his lips quirk.

“Because you’re going to pull up his birth chart.” Batman knows astrology is an enduring interest of yours. You pout, pulling up Gotham General’s files and sifting through the database.

“... Maybe.”

You pause from your search on one of the Justice League’s supercomputers, sneaking a sheepish glance at your co-conspirator. Ever since you asked him to help with your… reconnaissance, he’s been nothing but a great help. And judgment-free. Batman is as paranoid and insane as you are, and that is why he is quite possibly your best friend.

You flush. “You know– I– Thanks, Bats. Really. I’m glad you aren’t acting all weird about this.”

Batman doesn’t say anything, but you know that he’s giving you his full attention.

“Like, I’m not a freak or anything. I just have to make sure I know what I’m getting into.” You puff your cheeks. “Know he’s… you know. Good.”

What a lie. You’re just scared and don’t want to get caught with your pants down. Despite being an actual living, breathing, metahuman and superhero… Bruce is the one with the power in this relationship. He’s… everything. Encapsulating. Towering. Anyone would want him. You think of the lingering looks very, very beautiful women give him. Everyone does want him.

You feel a pang of violent loathing and nausea that is tided over when Batman speaks.

“... I know plenty about Bruce Wayne. He’s… good.”

Your brows rise. You’ve only known the man for a few months but even you know that’s a glowing compliment coming from Batman. His highest praise on most people is usually neutral at best. “Hmm… okay.” You turn back to your work, laughing. “Well. I also just think he’s kind of interesting to learn about. What other celebrity has this much lore? The prodigal son… Prince of Gotham… Collector of orphans… Gotham’s Most Eligible Bachelor...”

You worry your lip, gnashing your teeth. Bachelor. That’s what everyone thinks he is, right? You blink and curiously turn to Batman, whose hands are flying across a keyboard, hard at work. You hope you’re not bothering him. W-well, he’d say if I were, right? you think.

“Is it weird if I put cameras in Wayne Manor?”

Batman stills and your throat dries. Damn.

“... Um… Too weird…?”

After a tentative silence, Batman responds.

“... No. You’re just covering your bases.”

Your cheeks fill with color as being vindicated – a view you don’t know makes his heart race marginally quicker.

“Yeah!” You cough, composing yourself. “I mean, yeah. You can learn a lot about someone from what they get up to when they think they’re alone.” You can also make sure they’re not bringing anyone home, but you keep that part to yourself.

“I could plant them, if you need. I have plenty made for this kind of surveillance.”

You’re smiling widely, wheeling your chair over to Batman’s side before you know it.

“... God. Batman, you magnificent mind, you. This is why we’re buddies.” You lean over and poke his chest cheekily, right on the bat emblem.

Bruce has to restrain himself from catching your hand on its retreat. Your poke burns a hole in his chest for minutes afterward, and he welcomes every second of it. He turns back to his computer screen, vainly attempting to not think about how much he wants to kiss you right now.

Perhaps Bruce should’ve simply asked you out as Batman. You spend much more time when he’s under the cowl than not. But frankly, you would’ve been too distracted during missions. Hell, he would’ve been too distracted. He already thinks of you all the time.

Your investigation into Bruce Wayne has tripped several of his alarms, even before you told him of it. Anyone making inquiries with this level of depth draws his attention. Nothing you’re looking is anything he’s averse to you knowing, so he’s allowed you to investigate him freely and without redirection. But of course, you don’t know that. The effort you’re making is… cute. The fact you don’t know that Batman is Bruce is cute. You think you have the upper hand. And that’s… cute.

Bruce doesn’t think too deeply about your stalking, even though he probably should. It’s probably evidence of an unstable individual. He’s sure ten years alone with no stimuli in a pocket dimension does things to a person. But who was he to judge? He’s violated the privacy and boundaries of everyone who affects his life in any important way. Nor does he claim to be a shining example of ideal mental health.

And at the end of the day, this situation is all under his control.

There is a small part of him that feels guilty for keeping his identity under wraps, but there’s a bigger part that’s amused. You don’t know that he’s had your birth certificate since the day after you met. You don’t know that there’s about twenty cameras working 24/7 in and out of your apartment. Or that he’s your new landlord. These are things he’ll tease you about once he confesses that he’s Batman. You’ve made him someone who likes to tease.

Still, Bruce remains hesitant about telling you. How would you react? Would you feel betrayed? Hurt? Dread floods his bloodstream, an effect only the most depraved individuals in his rogues gallery tend to have on him.

Would you leave him? Hate him?

His eyes skirt towards where you sit. You worry your lip, eyes glued to a plan of Wayne Manor, no doubt debating where you want him to place the cameras he’s offered. Tension leaves his shoulders, almost imperceptible.

Luckily, the chances of that seem slim.

#yandere batfam #yandere bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #yandere reader #bruce wayne #yandere batman #batman x reader #i have got to make everyone crazier #mine

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sirfrogsworth · 11 months

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These folks watched a whole ass movie not realizing the main character was transgender and it was a 2 second kiss between men that made them lose their ever-loving minds.

It's amazing to me that if it weren't for those 2 seconds, many of these folks would have given this movie a 4 or 5 star review. But two seconds of the most vanilla, non-sexy, yet genuine and loving kiss somehow ruined every moment of enjoyment the previous 90 minutes brought them.

Imagine if they realized the trans allegory. I wish I had a way to tell them. I wish I had a way to make them realize they related to a trans character. That they rooted for them. That they accidentally empathized with a trans story.

This was a beautiful movie. In every sense. I really hope between this and Spider-Verse, we can have a moratorium on every 3D animated movie using this style of character design.

It's time to let go of the rubber toy look.

I love Toy Story, but its success kind of doomed 3D animation to never take any risks. I thought maybe it was just a limitation of the medium, and perhaps it was for a time... but after seeing Love Death + Robots and Arcane...

I realized they can make 3D animation look however the hell they want now.

The rubber people were just risk avoidance.

"That's what people are used to and so we're sticking with it."

But the real beauty of Nimona was the story. I won't spoil it but the plot is pretty much, "If you get to know a trans person, you probably won't hate them anymore."

Not knowing any trans people is one of the biggest factors in anti-trans bigotry. And so this movie uses allegory to let an audience get to know a trans person. And you get to experience someone slowly start to understand what it is to be trans from an outside perspective.

It's sad that will probably be lost on those folks above because all they will remember is the kiss. Seriously, it was such a harmless, mundane, blink-and-you-miss-it kiss. But I'm hoping that others will take the lesson of this movie to heart. That you should get to know people before you judge them.

Part of me does wish we could tell trans stories without allegory. That we could just have overt trans characters. But I think this is the best representation possible right now.

It's crazy that Supergirl was one of the bravest shows as far as modern trans representation. It wasn't an edgy HBO drama trying to push boundaries. It was a family-friendly superhero show and they were just like, "Here is a transgender woman with superpowers and it's fine." And I loved that it was part of the character but it wasn't all the character was. Though I think they just missed the manufactured "moral panic" window where that choice would have been extremely controversial causing boycotts of Warner Bros. and whatnot.

My only complaint about Nimona was a small penis joke. It went by very quickly and many may even miss it. But I was surprised to see it in this movie in particular. Especially since those jokes can have collateral damage toward trans folks. With all of the positive messages, wasting a joke on body shaming was a tad disappointing. I mean, it was a fairly lighthearted "Is it cold in here?" joke. I don't want to make it sound worse than it was. But it still registered on my Richter scale of things that bother me.

Anyway, I wholeheartedly give Nimona a 5 out of 5. It helped me understand my friends on a deeper level and it was warm and funny and entertaining. There was a scene at the end that was so beautiful and heart-wrenching and I was crying my eyes out. The animation and the symbolism and the acting were just so perfect.

It's a shame Disney tried to kill this movie. But I am so glad it was allowed to exist despite that.

#long post #nimona #homophobia

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thealtoduck · 3 months

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Greedy

Peter Parker x Male Black Cat!Reader

Warnings: Smut, semi-angsty, top!Reader, bottom!Peter, unprotected sex, rough sex, anal sex, fingering, doggy style, spanking, you cry after sex, calling Peter a whore, slut, etc…

Male Black Cat!Reader: Masterlist

Summary: After a failed robbery you’re pissed of so Peter helps you release some frustration…

——

You shot your grappling hook and swung yourself to another building closely followed by Spider-Man. He’d been able to keep up with you a lot better than usual, having learned to avoid your regular tricks and traps.

”You’ve gotten better at this!” you called out to the superhero chasing you. You jumped the gap to another building. Suddenly a web caught your arm pulling it back making you lose balance and fall hitting the rooftop floor.

You felt a pain in your leg as you quickly tried standing back up. Spider-Man swung right over your head and landed in front of you. ”Or maybe you’ve just gotten slow” he teased, the two of you then engaged in combat.

You slashing at him with your claws and him doing his best to block and dodge your attacks. Once he went on the offensive you ducked his quick strong jabs. Spider-Man noticed the leg you fell on was shaky as you avoided his punches.

He used this to his advantage and did a sweep with his leg knocking you to the ground, it was usually by now you found some gadget or distraction to give yourself a chance to escape. Spider-Man quickly ran up to you and ripped your backpack from your back and quickly webbed one of your arms down keeping you in place.

”You can’t take that” you said losing the regular playfullness in your voice. ”I just did” Spider-Man said victoriously. He went for the zipper on the bag while muttering ”What did you even steal?”. You watched with a glare as Spider-Man brought out a set of files from your bag.

”Put that back” you demanded but he ignored you. He opened one of the files and stated ”It’s the layout of a prison” he then turned his gaze to you and asked ”Are you planning to break someone out?”. He continued looking through some other files as you desperately looked for a way to free yourself.

You heard sirens in the distance approaching and even though you couldn’t see his mouth you knew Spider-Man was smirking. ”Well looks like i finally caught you Cat, tell me how does it feel?”.

Then you found something. ”Oh Spider… when will you learn, you can’t cage the Black Cat” you said and threw one of your newer gadgets towards him, which he easily dodged out of the way for it as it hit the water tower behind him. ”You missed” Spider-Man said proudly, but as he noticed your facial expression he realised… you hadn’t missed.

Next thing he knew an explosion came and he was completely drenched in water and the water tower started collapsing on to him. The files you had collected were washed away spreading wet sheets of paper out all over the rooftop.

Spider-Man managed to catch the falling water tower as it landed on top of him. He then threw it to the side and turned to where you had been webbed finding only an empty spot with some left over webbing.

”Shit” he swore to himself. He tried to pick up some wet paper files but they fell apart almost instantly as he did. At least he had managed to foil your break out plans he thought to himself.

——

You grappled your way to your secret lair, an old storage unit your mom had used during her time as the Black Cat. You opened your door and walked inside seeing collections of jewelry and paintings, maps with marked out locations and all your tech stuff. You slammed the door behind you and ripped off your mask throwing it aside.

You walked up to your working bench and slammed your fists on the table, your one chance you could’ve had to free your mom from prison and that stupid arachnid boy had ruined everything.

You grabbed something random from the working bench and threw it across the room in a rage, making it smash against the wall…

——

You layed with crossed arms on your bed leaning against the headborard as Peter played video games on your flatscreen tv. Your dad was out of town for business so you and Peter decided to have a sleepover while he was gone.

You thought about canceling with Peter after last nights failed theft but you hoped his company might help cheer you up… so far it wasn’t working, you had a noticable scowl on your face and a clear lack of energy in your voice.

Peter had noticed but not pointed it out as he wasn’t completely sure you wanted to talk about it. Once he finished the level he put the controller aside and layed down next to you. He gently touched your arm and asked ”Y/n, are you okay?”

You turned to him with a distracted look and said simple ”Yeah” but then added a ”Just in a bad mood”. ”Do you want me to leave or something? I can give you space?” Peter asked sweetly, sitting up ready to leave if you wanted some alone time.

”No, stay, i like your company” you said but with more softness in your voice this time as you put your hand on top of his, giving it a light squeeze. ”Alright… is there anything i can do for you?” Peter asked generously. You stayed silent for a moment…

”Can i fuck you?…” you said a mix of coldness and longing in your voice. Peter was caught of guard making him silent, making you quickly add ”You really don’t have to if you don’t want to, i just- i just want some release… that’s all”.

Peter thought about it for a moment and asked curiously ”What did you have in mind?”. You stood up and said ”Come on” and led him out of your room, and down the hallway. You then opened the door to another room where Peter followed you inside.

It was a bigger room than yours, the first thing Peter noticed were the two glass doors along the left wall that opened to a balcony looking out over the other suburban houses. He looked around the room, along the walls were some really nice paintings, like straight out of a museum.

There were also some pictures of you as a child spread around the room, as well as a big family portrait hanging over the headboard of a large bed, a bed for two. This was you parents room.

You stood in front of the double bed and then explained in a darkened tone ”I want to take you like whore on my parents bed”. The request left Peter on mute, this was something new to him… having sex on your parents bed felt so inappropriate and lewd… and he was suprisingly really turned on by it.

”Look, like i said ”you really don’t have to if-” you said again but Peter interrupted saying ”Yeah, let’s do it”. You nodded and said ”Okay, get ready then, i’ll get the lube”. You said leaving and walking back to your room.

Peter slowly started udressing pulling of his shirt and pants, leaving him in socks and underwear. Peter moved on to the bed and tried to position himself in a sexy way, like he’d seen you do before.

When you came back inside you threw the bottle of lube on to the bed and tugged your own shirt off. You stood yourself on the edge of the bed and pulled Peter closer by his legs. Peter stood up on his knees and the two of you started hungrily making out.

You grabbed at Peter bulge feeling him getting hard in your hand, you then slipped in your hand inside his underwear and rubbed your hand along his cock with a firm grip of him. Peter let out a soft moan in your face as you did.

You then gently pushed Peter on to his back on the big bed and dragged his underwear down his legs and threw them on the floor. Peter was now naked in front of you apart from his white socks which you decided to leave on because you thought it made him look cute.

You unbuckled your belt and pulled you pants down and climbed onto the bed in between his legs. You opened the bottle of lube and poured some in your hand and spreading it on your fingers. You then lifted Peter’s spread legs revealing his tight hole that hadn’t been used in a while.

You mercilessly started shoving your first finger in to him making his mouth gape open. ”Fuck” Peter swore as you watched in satisfaction. You impatiently added another finger into him and then annother, pumping them in and out him loosening up his ass. Peter’s dick was now rockhard as you finger fucked him.

You then suddenly pulled out your fingers from him, wanting to get your hard manhood inside him. You flipped Peter on to his stomach giving you a full view of his bubble butt, you started teasing your length against his hole.

You squeezed Peter’s left cheek and gave it a light spank. ”You want my cock?” you asked as you kept teasing his awaiting heat. ”Yeah, i want it, please” Peter said almost begging. You spread his ass and pushed your hung cock in to his tight hole, making Peter whine beneath you.

You groaned feeling Peter’s tight walls around your manhood. ”Fuck Y/n, you’re so big” Peter moaned as you sheated yourself inside him. ”Bet you like that” you said grabbing his hips. Without giving Peter much time to adjust you started rolling your hips, your cock moving in and out of him.

”Taking it like a real slut” you said degradingly as Peter moaned in to the matress. You sped up your thrusts making the sound of skin slapping together sound out through the room, his ass kneading your cock like perfection. You moved your hands to Peter’s back pressing him onto the bed.

”Such a whore for my cock aren’t you?” you asked him as you roughly took his ass. But Peter was to blissed out to answer, you raised a hand and gave Peter’s right ass cheek a hard slap that echoed through the room. ”Aren’t you?” you repeated demandingly.

”Yes, i’m your whore” Peter let out through the ectasy he felt. You fucked yourself in to his heat agressively, using the rage you felt to fuck him like a bitch. His hole clenching around you making you groan loudly.

You bodies started getting sweaty from you intense fucking. Peter moaned loudly as you plowed in to him. ”You love when men fuck you full of their cum?” you asked in a rough tone as your big cock pushed against Peter’s prostate.

”Yes, i love being filled with cum!!!” Peter moaned loudly. If anyone was standing outside the bedroom door they would’ve definetely heard every single word. You laid down on to of Peter and took his hands that were gripping the bedsheets and held Peter down as you thrust wildly in to him.

Peter started getting close from the feeling of your cock fucking deeply in to his now loose open hole. ”I’m gonna cum” Peter whined through his moans. ”Cum then you little whore” you said grabbing Peter’s messy sweaty hair in your hand.

Peter’s length pressed down to the matress then started spilling his seed in to a puddle on the sheets. You thrusts started growing eratic and hungry as you chased your own release. ”Gonna fuck my whore full of cum” you growled to the tired out Peter beneath you.

”Yes fill me with your cum!” Peter gasped which was all you needed to hear as you delivered one last powerful thrust in to him and let your seed erupt deep inside Peter’s heat, filling him all the way up. His hole started leaking as soon as you pulled out of him.

You laid down beside Peter in exhaustion feeling cleansed of your anger. You looked to the side where spotted a picture on the nightside table, it was a picture of you as a kid and your mom before she got locked up. It made a new feeling bubble up inside you.

Sadness…

A tear started trickling down your cheek your cheek as you let out a small whimper. Peter heard and immediately turned to you. He noticed tears had started uncontrolably rolling down your cheeks.

”Y/n, are you okay? Did i do something wrong?” Peter quickly questioned. You shook your head and said ”No, i’m just emotional”. Peter looked conserned at you. ”Can you hold me?” you asked him through sniffs. ”Of course” Peter said and let you nuzzle your tear stained face in to his chest.

He didn’t really understand what was happening or what brought this on but he wrapped his arms around your body letting you cry. You calmed down after a while but you the two of you stayed cuddled together.

Soon enough the two of you fell asleep in the big bed holding each other closely all through the night.

#peter parker x male reader smut #peter parker x male reader #peter parker x male!reader #peter parker x male black cat reader #spider man x male reader #spiderman x male reader #spider-man x male reader #avengers x male reader #avengers x male!reader #mcu x male reader #x male reader smut #male reader #x male reader #x male!reader #male black cat reader #black cat!male reader #male black cat!reader

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catsvrsdogscatswin · 5 months

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I've had this thought swirling in the back of my head for a while, but it's finally congealed enough that I think I can make a coherent pitch, which is: I think RWBY's problems with the more vitriolic part of its fanbase partially stems from the fact that RWBY is a deconstruction that doesn't advertise it's a deconstruction.

RWBY's status as a deconstruction is pretty textbook. It takes apart standard fantasy, shounen, and anime tropes in order to analyze them and their deeper meaning and then reassembles them in new and interesting ways for the plot/characters/series. Thing is, it never says that outright in promotional material, which can lead to later outrage in fans.

See, unless their way of discovering new shows is to close their eyes and stab their finger at random, most people tend to choose series to watch/read based on expectations. Maybe a friend said they'll like it because it has [insert thing], maybe they read the summary and were intrigued, maybe they thought the poster/cover art was cool, whatever. These small pieces of information are generally enough for people to make a snap-judgment of the style and genre of the series, which they can then gauge against their personal tastes and decide whether or not they want to try.

Most of the time, this works just fine. Well-written deconstructions also generally give the viewers some warning/buildup before they take a hard swerve. See Madoka Magica: the magical girl paradigm is shaded by the possibility of death as soon as we're introduced to it, then there's an onscreen death with blood, and then a few episodes later we eventually realize the Faustian bargain of it all. Even innocent viewers who stumbled into watching it, unaware of the show's reputation, would go "Oh, wait, this is not going in the direction magical girl shows usually go" by a third of the way through.

The thing is, with RWBY, this does not happen unless you're paying a lot of attention and/or looking for it. And neither the cover art nor the summary nor, I believe, the fanbase gives a lot of warning about the swerves ahead.

In fact, RWBY initially bills itself as a pretty standard shounen anime. The main protagonist is hinted to have Special Powers and gets into the Magic Monster-Hunting School in the first episode, and the first two-and-a-half seasons are taken up by her and her friends' superhero-esque slice-of-life shenanigans as they thwart robberies and terrorist attacks and gear up for a tournament arc against the looming background of a larger conspiracy.

Then in the last half of the third season the villains' entire Rube Goldberg machine of a scheme snaps into completion and the plot twists so hard the entire genre takes a hard right. If you're used to character analysis and common anime tropes, this is not completely a surprise -up until this point, RWBY's character arcs and plot have been subtly traveling in non-traditional directions that hint of greater flexibility in genre treatment ahead- but if you're not... well.

Thing is, people watching RWBY up until this point have signed up for pretty standard shounen and they've been getting it, but the third season's ending smashes that all to bits. From then on out in RWBY, it's like they ordered fries and suddenly got a hamburger. It might be delicious; but it's not what they asked for, what they wanted, or what they paid for, and they are, justifiably, displeased.

So when the reasonable people either adjusted their expectations or sighed, shook their heads, and clicked back out (perhaps with a grumble and a scowl), the unreasonable people dug their heels in and began insisting that everybody was Getting The Show/Character Wrong and that CRWBY is ruining it, because the fact that RWBY's method of deconstruction is to put standard tropes in a blender and then arrange what's left in deceptive patterns means that said unreasonable viewers can scan the bare surface and argue that all the stereotypical stuff is clearly still under there, somewhere.

So they're continually trying to drag RWBY back to the tracks of a typical shounen anime series (it's closest relative), which creates a dissonance between the show they're watching and the show they think they're watching. They're trying to turn the hamburger back into fries, basically, except that doesn't work and just frustrates everyone involved, because you're trying to make RWBY into something that it's not. Hence, this attitude probably starting/fueling some of the more contentious statements in the fandom, i.e.:

"Ironwood was right the whole time" (in most action movies and shounen anime, allied military leaders are trustworthy beyond reproach)

"Adam's character was wasted" (we all know how much shounen loves their powerful warrior antiheroes)

"Ruby and the others are in the wrong about [insert thing]/or for doing [insert thing], and this is bad writing!" (shounen protagonists don't usually make more than One Very Big Mistake over the course of their entire careers, which is usually fixed/overcome/redeemed via an appropriately rigorous training arc)

And to be clear, there's nothing wrong with shounen tropes or shounen anime. They're wonderful storytelling devices in their own way and their own time: but if you want standard by-the-book shounen without any new and interesting concoctions, then RWBY is definitely not the show for you. And most people don't find that out until it's too late.

#RWBY #fandom #wonder how much hate I'm going to get for this one #ho-hum #Getting frustrated when a show doesn't perform to your expectations is normal and natural but that's no reason to be a dick about it

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nouearth · 11 months

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servicing justice: superman [1]

pairing ; kal-el / clark kent / superman x m!reader. fandom: ; dc, superman. word count ; 2144. series ; servicing justice. genre ; smut. rating ; m. warnings ; bigdick!superman. blowjob. gloryhole. handjob. mouth-fucking. oral (reader giving). sexworker!reader. note ; yeah, okay. maybe i've been watching too much of a certain video genre, ahem. but i hope you guys enjoy my first smut! it's been a WHILE since i've written one, so i know it's rusty, HAHA. looks-wise, i mostly had maws's superman in mind (because the art style is so good and so himbo), but feel free to imagine it with any superman!

it isn’t the most comfortable position to be in. you’ve been kneeling on the floor for quite some time now, waiting for your assigned client. your palms begin to sweat to a minimal but uncomfortable degree. did i fuck up already? you ask yourself as your mind clouds with questions, doubts, and even judgement regarding this new job.

“jesus, what did i get myself into…” you recall the long process it took for you to end up here. the intensive (and ridiculously long) process of reading and signing multiple forms and documents almost had you backing out of this opportunity. though looking back at it, it was understandable since it’s quite unheard of to be… a sex worker for superheroes.

for an incredible pay, your privacy will essentially be stripped away starting from today. all phone messages, calls, and social media activities will be monitored during your venture as a sex worker, and that post-graduate life was not going to pay itself. for the most part, so far everything seemed… great? being driven to work by a chauffeur, having your own personal room and health coverage provided, and most importantly… eating free lunch was not bad at all.

or maybe you’re just naïve.

all you had to do was kneel and suck a few superhumans off. as the newbie, you were told that you’ll be starting on gloryhole duty due to privacy reasons; at least until you built enough camaraderie. though, you didn’t even mind since there would certainly be less strain on your body.

you couldn’t help but snicker at the mere thought of an entire league of superheroes holding a meeting regarding this subject matter. especially since almost everyone in the world, including you, holds these superheroes in such high regard.

“meeting is adjourned until 9 am tomorrow! until then, please help yourself to some delicious food trucks from outer spac-“ your humorous imitation of a noble superhero is silenced when you hear the door opening. within your private booth, all that blocks you from meeting your approaching client is another door with a hole cut through.

your curiosity is piqued when you catch a sight of the man’s physique through the hole. plaid shirt and jeans aside, and assuming he had to underdress, he’s huge. maybe because you’re kneeling right now, or maybe it’s the fact that you’ve never been near a superhero before, but you couldn’t help but be in awe at the size of the man. your eyes complete a full body scan by the time he approaches the door and before you could say something, he does.

“sorry i was late-“ a gentle voice echoes behind the door. contrary to his soft voice, the man’s large hands work aggressively at his belt, unlooping the leather with impatience yet eagerness as he anticipates the mouth that’s been waiting for his arrival. “there was this whole thing with this cat in this tree and then this school bus got hijacked- not my best day, unfortunately.”

“i’m sorry to hear that. sounds like a stressful day, yeah?” your voice is compassionate. you felt bad for the unnamed superhero and a part of you wanted to continue the conversation further, but your job isn’t to listen to their feelings. it’s to pleasure.

“yeah…” a huge sigh of relief expels from the man’s dry throat when he pulls his pants down. frustration stains another one of your client’s sigh, clearly troubled by the restrictive fabric guarding his erection. you watch with parted lips as he couldn’t help but give himself a needy stroke through his tight briefs, fondling his balls then beelining his palm to the very plump tip of his cock. your own cock hardens at this scene, and you find yourself doing the very same. mimicking his impatient hand to tend to the sensitive pressure below, you tiptoe the fine line between frustration and pleasure as your tightening pants and briefs define what it means to be an absolute nuisance. “very stressful.”

it doesn’t take much time before you’re faceful of cock and somehow, you manage to salivate more than you did a minute ago. the man’s throbbing erection is brimmed with thick pre-cum, stress practically leaving his body with every drip. it’s a heavenly sight that’s enough to make you stick your tongue out just in time to catch the substance into your mouth, not wanting to waste a single drop. the salty taste always catches you off-guard yet at the same time, it puts you under a spell. a tantalizing spell that commands you to drag your warm tongue over and back the underside of his thick shaft, completely avoiding the plump glans to have his cock leak even more… stress.

the taste of his musk drives your palm further into your erection, palming at whatever you could as you preoccupy yourself with teasing the man. you almost felt bad for him. contrary to his build, his whimpers are… so small, so weak. you notice his hands grip over the top of the barrier, and it turns you on upon realizing how this supposed hero could become so fragile at the simple taunt of your tongue.

“please…” the superhero whimpers out, needlessly fucking the air in hopes of granting his cock some type of friction. you’re amazed, and a little proud, by how much pre-cum he’s been leaking by now, and it all goes right onto your tongue. the wet muscle follows the natural curve of his cock to meet up with the wet and plump head. his hips buckle into the barrier and feeling it shake, you keep him steady by wrapping your hand around his shaft. you’re addicted at this point. addicted to the salty taste of his pre-cum as your tongue licks and explores into the slit of his cock, while at the same time, your hand works at his large cock in slow, but steady strokes.

“oh christ-“ he breathes out, repeating the same two words under his shaky breath as you continue to pleasure him with your tongue and hand. after a few licks, you pull away to give your tongue a break. in doing so, your grip tightens around his shaft to pace your strokes quicker. when you find a moment where your wrist needs a break, you let your client catch his breath. his cock throbbing more and more with every passing second when your tongue and hand aren’t exploring him, and you bask in the sight of it. you believe you deserve a medal at this point. not for doing a great job (though, it doesn’t seem too far-fetched), but for having control. you haven’t even sucked him off yet, but you’re content on remaining just like this for a while longer. though, that wouldn’t be fair for the superhero.

before he could whimper out another plea, your warm mouth finally wraps around the head of his cock and your ears perk at the sound of his low moan almost instantly. your hand returns to its rightful position around the lower base of his penis as you cycle your tongue over the glans, satisfying your need to taste his musk once more. seconds later, your hand lets go when you push your head farther, taking in an inch more of the hero’s cock. your knees dig into the floor as you push your head more and more, stretching your mouth with his cock until you feel yourself gagging.

“fuck.” you sniffle out when you pull back. perhaps you were challenging yourself too hard. you think to yourself as you catch your breath, using the remaining moment to sloppily jerk him off with your saliva. part of you wanted to challenge yourself to deepthroat him, impress your client on the first day. but you already know you wouldn’t be able to take it… at least, for now.

“you could hurt someone with this, y’know?” for some reason, you thought you needed to crack a joke as if there was an awkward silence that needed to be filled. maybe you just wanted to hear him talk again. his voice is warm and inviting, somewhat fitting for a superhero or even a television host as the moment you hear his voice again, you felt safe.

“i have before- oh god.” you lube up his cock with your spit as you continue to jerk him off, refraining yourself from fucking his slit with your tongue again to concentrate on his words. “which is why i don’t do this much- sex and stuff… it’s all troublesome, really.”

“yeah?” and just when you talked yourself out of challenging yourself, you feel the competitive spark ignite inside of you again. “well, i guess you just have to find the right one. could be anyone, even people you just met.” you try to play it nonchalantly, hoping that double-handing his wet cock would distract him.

he was beyond speechless at this point, moans drawn out by means of your sloppy strokes. you swear you can hear his heartbeat behind the barrier when you lean your head closer to suck him off again. you moan along with him, drawing out every breath of yours as you bob your head up and down, taking more of his cock every time you come down. your hand twists and strokes the remaining few inches that isn’t violated by your tongue and mouth, following your mouth like a reel as your intent to make him cum is fervent more than ever.

it hurts. your mouth hurts by how large your client is and tears brim in your eyes as you hold yourself back from gagging. but you don’t stop yourself because you’ll know it’ll be worth it. your endeavor to please him to the fullest has you drowning out his groans into white noise and you can barely register the fact that you’ve been on paused for a while now. you find yourself in a closer position than before, where your mouth is open, lips fully pressed around the carved hole as the superhero fucks into your mouth, fucks into your gags like you’re his personal flesh light. you didn’t care how dirty you looked, how you had saliva and spittle dripping out from the corners of your mouth and onto the floor. who would see? and you didn’t care that you were too preoccupied to touch your dick right now, because you know you’ll be thinking about this very moment for the rest of your life. and right now, you didn’t know if you wanted to be covered in his cum or to have your mouth be filled with it.

remaining in this position, you glance your teary eyes up at his grip over the barrier again. the strength in his grasp forms small cracks in the material of the barrier and that was the sign you knew you fulfilled your sense of purpose.

“christ, i’m going to come-“ your eyes shut again and you breathe through your noise, bracing for impact. he pushes his cock down your throat and hits that sore spot one last time before unloading his cum into your mouth with a stifled groan. warm, hot seed quickly fills you up and you pull your head back an inch to fully enclose your lips around his cock, ensuring none escape your lips.

in a heartbeat, you swallowed it all. his warm cum coats the back of your throat like medicine and you moan around his cock at the taste, intoxicated. you made sure to lick every inch of his cock clean, calmly slurping any saliva and cum that threatens to leave your mouth as you pull back up with a soft pop, swallowing the remaining remnants of his stress away.

“t-thank you. i needed that…” he pulls his softening cock out, careful in avoiding the hole as he was still sensitive. “did you need a tissue or anything? i think i have one somewhere…” you can hear him rummage through what you can only assume would be his bag and you find it charming, a quiet laugh leaving your swollen lips as you lean back onto your elbows to take a breather and stretch your legs out.

“no, no. i’m okay. i, uh, don’t think i wasted a drop.” you proudly brag, only for him to respond with a shy chuckle. you watch him tidy himself through the hole from a leaned back view, occasionally tilting your head in various angles to see if you could catch a glimpse on who the mysterious superhero is, but the barrier remains an obstruction to your view.

“well then, i… uh… thank you for your service.” he covers up the silence with another laugh and you join in, re-adjusting his pants and belt before turning his back towards you and heading out the booth. “i’ll try not to be late next time.”

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sariahsue · 5 months

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Wherefore Art Thou My(stery) Lady

When a failed attempt to let Chat Noir down easy ends with Ladybug learning his name, she does what any lovesick teenager would do: teases him mercilessly. (Season 2/3 era.)

Chapter One

It figures, Adrien thought, as Ladybug carried him to safety. It figured it would be a dog-themed akuma. And that it would find the only cat-themed superhero in the city, even though he wasn’t currently transformed. It figured he would have to be rescued, cradled bridal style, and that Ladybug would hug him so tightly that--

Nope. Akuma. Focus on the akuma that was currently tearing through the streets, barking at people until they literally froze in terror, digging holes a hundred feet deep, and probably chasing his own tail. Focus on the lurch in his stomach as they jumped from building to building, the honking of the cars stuck in traffic, the flash of the sun reflecting off skyscraper windows. Focus on anything except for how warm she was, how firmly she held him, how her lips--

Nope, nope, nope. The wind in his hair. Birds chirping in the distance. Anything.

Ladybug bounded gracefully over the Agreste mansion's protective outer wall and landed on the grass, held him for a few seconds longer than was necessary (he noticed with elation), and then carefully set him down.

“Well,” she said, her smile wide and bright. “Stay safe! I wouldn't want anything to happen to you!”

Adrien watched her until she was nothing more than a red speck, then raced out through the gate, so he could find somewhere to transform. Ladybug needed her partner.

---

The akuma was easy to defeat, after Ladybug called her Lucky Charm. It was a box of caramel chocolates. No, they didn't feed any to the dog. Caramels made a wonderful, sticky trap when they were all melted together. Who knew? His genius partner, naturally.

Chat Noir picked up the (sadly not heart-shaped, just plain old rectangular) empty box and brought it over to her. “Look at what I fetched for you.”

“Thanks, Dog Noir,” she said, reaching out a hand for it.

He stuck out his tongue, preparing to toss the red and black box back to her, before realizing he could get one more pun out of it. He held it with both hands and gently placed it into her outstretched palm. He didn't let go until he'd caught her eye and said, in very serious tones, “For you, My Lady. And may I say, you look very fetching.” The box slid out of his hands, and Ladybug's expression morphed into a frown.

Within moments, the victim was back to normal, the holes had been removed from the street, and Ladybug was staring him down.

“I've told you,” she said.

“You've told me lots of things, Bug. You're going to have to be more specific.” Though he was fairly certain he knew what she wanted to say. Another rejection.

“You aren't going to win me over.”

Being prepared didn’t soothe the disappointment. “Would you mind if I kept trying anyway?”

Ladybug's face softened, and her hand went to her earrings as they beeped a warning. Two more minutes. “Thank you for the compliment, but it's not going to work.” She didn't sound exasperated, just sad. “I have to go.”

“See you at patrol later?” he asked as she threw her yoyo.

“Of course,” she said. “Keep in mind what I said, though.”

How could he not? Chat Noir sighed loudly once she was out of sight.

He still had three and a half minutes before he transformed back. Enough time to get poor dog-man home before anyone noticed Adrien was missing.

---

Patrol that night started out more formally than it usually did, and he knew it was due to his earlier declarations. Ladybug kept her distance from him physically and emotionally, only speaking when it was necessary and staying two or three rooftops ahead of him. He wasn’t getting the feeling that she was mad. Her tone was kind. And she always checked to make sure he was keeping up, even stopping to wait when she needed to.

Maybe she just didn’t want to give him any false hope.

Over the course of the hour, he steadily creeped closer to her. By the time they had reached the Louvre, they were side by side like they normally were. So naturally, Chat Noir let his curiosity get the better of him and asked a question that had plagued him for months. “So what's my rival like?” he asked. “Is he as funny and as handsome as me?”

“How should I know?” she said. “I can hardly see your face.”

Surprised by her sudden teasing, he quickly offered, “I could change that.” Which of course, he realized as soon as the words were out of his mouth, was about the most unhelpful thing he could have said.

Ladybug scoffed and took off, leaving Chat Noir to figure out how to fix his latest mess-up. She didn't seem too averse to answering questions, so maybe all he had to do was try again?

He stayed level with her, but gave her some space, choosing to run across the rooftops on the other side of the street. Headlights created a glow beneath them, a river of light that cast her in a warm haze.

After a few minutes of silence, he tried again. “I'm very handsome,” he said, trying to play it off. “Would you believe me if I said I was a superhero by day and a supermodel by night?”

“Pfft. No.” She stopped on a wide balcony and smiled at him.

He leaned over the edge of the roof to look down at her. “Maybe I just play one on TV then.”

“Unlikely.” She threw her yoyo and zipped away.

“No, really, what's he look like?” he called after her. “You can tell me that much.” They usually ended their patrol near Collège Françoise Dupont, which was convenient for him. And ever since Alya had discovered the little tidbit about Ladybug's history textbook, he’d started to suspect that the ending location was more than just a convenience for her, too. She probably lived nearby. They landed on the school's roof at the same time, and he thought she would just take off after that question, but for the second time, she surprised him. She sat down and leaned back on the flat top of the building. To the civilians below, only her feet would be visible, dangling over the edge. Chat Noir stayed as close to her as he dared, sitting by her knees, close enough to touch her if he reached, and stared down at the school’s stairs beneath them.

Ladybug chewed her lip like she was thinking. Did that mean she was figuring out her answer? Or was she figuring out how to say no nicely?

“He looks... a little bit like you,” she said, letting her feet kick against the side of the building.

“What if he is me?” Chat Noir asked. He hesitated before scooting closer, not wanting to push her. If she ran off again, she'd probably just go home.

“But the chances of you being the same person are really slim.”

“So what does he look like then? White kid? Blonde?”

“Green eyes, too,” she said.

“So he’s probably me.”

“Will you stop?” She held both arms straight up above her and then let them fall wide to either side of her. “There’s thousands of people in Paris that fit that description. He’s not you.”

“You said it yourself. The chances are slim. But that implies there’s still a chance.”

Chat Noir was trying really hard to convince himself that he was just teasing her. There was no way he was lucky enough to really be the guy she liked, but his mind drifted back to earlier that afternoon. The way she had held him when he wasn’t transformed, smiled at him, made sure that he stayed safe. What if the boy she liked was Adrien Agreste?

What would it be like to walk hand-in-hand with her at school? Or have plans together on the weekend?

It would hurt more to hope if he turned out to be wrong, but he couldn't help himself. She made him hope like nothing and no one else in his life could.

“Would it be bad if we were the same person?” he asked after it was clear she wasn’t going to answer his last comment.

“Not bad,” she said. “Just weird. You’re really different.”

“I thought you said we were both devilishly handsome, amazing, with perfect comedic timing–”

Ladybug laughed and shoved him. “Perfect comedic timing? You?”

“As evidenced by your laughter right now.” He gestured to her. She looked over at him from where she was lying down.

Her smile was glowing, brighter than the cars passing them on the street. Brighter than the moon. “You’re both wonderful people, I’ll give you that. Sometimes dorky, but I’m happy to know both of you.”

Chat Noir felt his face going hot at the unexpected praise.

“And sure, you look kind of similar. There. Are you satisfied?”

“We go to the same school,” he blurted out. “What are my chances now?”

“Chat!” She bolted upright to face him, eyes wide. “You can't just give away information like that!”

“I didn't-”

“We go to the same school?” she shrieked.

“I don't know!”

“So what made you say that?”

“Well, I thought maybe–” There was no way out of the mess he’d just created. Ladybug was on her knees, both hands on the roof of his - probably their - school. “I... the textbook?” he finished timidly. Even if that had been a false lead, he’d effectively just told her which school he attended, and he wasn’t sure how she would take it.

“Alya!” Ladybug growled, rubbing the heel of her hand into her forehead. When she faced him again, there was a big red spot.

“So... you really do go to my school?” he asked, patting a patch of roof next to him.

“You... you've known this... Alya released that video ages ago. You knew we went to school together, and you haven't come looking for me?”

The fragility in her tone caught him off guard. “Of course not,'' he reassured. “What kind of privacy invader do you take me for? I ought to be offended!” (The irony of the statement wasn’t lost on him.)

Ladybug didn't laugh, just quietly said, “Thank you. We go to the same school. Huh.”

The crisis he’d unintentionally created seemed to have passed. Hope bubbled up again. Most kids their age had crushes on people from school. “My chances?”

“Are slightly increased, but I'm fairly certain you're two different people. In fact, I'm not even sure we've met at school. I would have remembered meeting someone as loud and obnoxious as you.”

“Unlikely,” he muttered, but it was quiet enough that she hadn't heard him. “So this guy, that may or not be me...”

“He's not you.”

“What do you like about him?” He acted so differently at school. He didn’t think she would recognize him. Would he recognize her description of him? Maybe she would let it slip that the boy she was crushing on was a celebrity or famous or something.

It was hard to ignore the niggling doubt that said raising his hopes would only hurt more later.

“You really want to do this to yourself?” she asked, echoing his thoughts.

At the very least, he’d learn more about his Lady. What had won her over so soundly? (Maybe he would have a better shot with her if he knew that.) “Sure.”

“He's kind,” she said immediately. “He's the type of person who would help someone out even if they hated him. When we first met he went out of his way to apologize to me for something that was my fault. And he has the most amazing amount of patience I've ever seen.” She smiled while Chat Noir frowned. That didn’t sound like him.

“I mean,” she continued, “he has enough patience to deal with C-- this student that no one likes. And he's just so gentle and sweet and... yeah.” She sighed. “That's why I like him.”

She stared out over the lights of the city, but he was certain that she wasn't seeing a single building. Her face was peaceful and shining. It was a good look for her.

“Even if it turns out he's not me, he sounds like a nice guy.” He wasn't as great as Ladybug described, not nearly as kind or the well of unending patience, though that's what he tried to be like.

Then again, how many blond, green-eyed, white boys were there in the school? His chances had to be pretty good, didn't they?

“What makes you think he's not me? The personality difference?”

“I've seen you two in the same place at the same time.”

Chat Noir's heart sank. He shouldn't have gotten his hopes up. He knew he shouldn't have. And yet he had anyway. His ears drooped, and he grabbed his tail and started weaving it through his fingers, just to have something to do.

“Oh, Kitty.” Ladybug looked over at him. “I'm so sorry.”

“Maybe... maybe you just thought that you--”

“Please don't,” she said. “Please stop doing this.”

“But maybe you just thought--”

“Chat Noir!”

He turned to face her, slowly, deliberately. “I'm not giving up. If he's not me, I'm going to keep trying to win you away from him until you ask me to stop.”

Ladybug shut her eyes in defeat. “I should.”

But she didn’t, the hopeful piece of his heart whispered. He really wished it would shut up right now.

“Would it be easier for you if I did?”

“I–” What did he want? He felt at war with himself. Determination to keep going. But giving up might eventually make the pain of rejection stop.

She was looking at him with so much compassion and caring. The constant declarations annoyed her sometimes. He knew that. But she didn’t hold it against him and still asked if he was okay. Despite everything, he loved her. That was that. “I’d rather be able to express myself. But only if it doesn’t bother you.”

She shook her head, eyes down. “It’s fine.”

“Who is he?” he asked.

“I already told you, I can't tell you,” Ladybug said. “We can't know anything about each other. It's--”

“Then we can’t know for certain that he’s not me.” It was false hope at this point, but it was the only hope he had, so he clung to it. She'd seen them together. Maybe he had saved this guy’s life.

She stood. “I'm sorry, Chaton.” She zipped away without another word, up and over Marinette’s bakery and out of sight.

Chat Noir didn't feel much like being a superhero right now, but he didn't feel like going home so early either. He slowly climbed down the walls, detransformed, and trudged his way back to the mansion on foot, his hands in his pockets.

---

The next time he saw her was two nights later, their next patrol. She had arrived first, which was unusual, and was pacing at the top of Le Grand Paris, waiting for him. The sting of her rejection had been his companion for the past 48 hours, and it flared up a little when she turned her bright, blue eyes on him.

“Evening, My Lady,” he said, bowing elegantly. “I hope you've--”

“I have an idea.”

Chat Noir was still bent at the waist, and the grandeur of his gesture was broken by his sudden jerk upright. That sounded urgent. “What kind of idea?”

“Uh...” Ladybug didn't usually hesitate like that, and he realized that it probably hadn't been urgency in her voice, just anxiety. Ladybug kept going. “How I can prove you two aren't the same person without revealing anybody's name.”

“Oh.” Stellar way to start a patrol.

“Here's my plan. So after I went home the other day, I felt bad that you felt bad and then I had to figure something out, so that you could be happy again, and I promise I won't go looking for you.” Her words tumbled and tripped over themselves. “And I thought that it would probably be best if you could just stop thinking the way you were thinking, but no one’s identity will be compromised, and this is kind of dangerous if I’m wrong, but I’m not wrong, so if you don't want to do this it's fine, and of course you couldn't be the same two people, and--”

“Ladybug.” He hadn’t heard her babble like that for at least three months. Whatever her plan was, she was obviously presenting it to him against her better judgment. Her arms curled around herself, like she was terrified. Her hands were tight balls.

“I went through all of last year's yearbook. Are you in there?”

He nodded slowly, uncomprehending. “Yes?”

“I checked everyone, well, all the boys who look like the two of you. There's a bunch of people who match your general description, and none of them have the same initials. And no one has the same first initial as him, so I thought-- you could tell me what your first name starts with, and...”

And she could crush his heart once and for all when it didn’t match.

Or, his traitorous heart whispered. Or maybe…

“Don't worry about me,” he said, resigned. It was a silly hope. He would just go back to his original plan of winning her over.

Ladybug hugged herself tighter, fists clenched, staring at his shoulder. “Are you sure? Because we don't have to do this.”

He squared his shoulders to brace himself. “A.”

“A?”

He nodded.

“Your last name?”

“What do you need it for? You said no one else has the same first letter.” She didn't answer, and he couldn't tell if this was a good sign or a bad sign.

“Another A,” he said.

Aside from her fists loosening slightly, she gave no visible reaction, though he thought he heard her breathing pick up a little.

“Ladybug?”

“Ladybug has to go home now,” she whispered.

He blinked. “What about patrol?”

Without so much as a backward glance, she slipped over the side of the hotel. He watched as she skittered away over the rooftops and toward the direction of the school. What was that reaction? It looked bad. Those were bad feelings she was having. Did she leave so she wouldn’t have to hurt him again? Or some other reason?

Chat Noir finished the patrol route on his own, not sure if he should feel hopeful or despairing.

Ch 2

---

Author's note: Hello! Welcome to my Big Bang contribution! This story has seven chapters and will update every Saturday! Thank you to @toadashi who did some great artwork for it! To @cardiac-agreste for beta reading. To @jennagrinsoverml, for being so interested in this half-formed story that I eventually finished it. And to @mlbigbang for hosting this event!

Here is the artwork for this fic! :https://www.instagram.com/p/C1l539rowbO/?igsh=cmloaWRyaWVkdThv

#ml #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #ladynoir #fanfiction

208 notes · View notes

dawnisatotalqueen · 5 months

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one last try

pairing: donatello x reader

show: rottmnt

tags: fem reader, jealous donnie, wingman leo, rowdy reader

warnings: cursing (once), y/n used once, maybe ooc idk 😞

word count: 1326

Your hair was bleach blonde before you met them. You were trying to settle on a color, but you just couldn’t make up your mind. You thought about dying it your favorite color, then decided not to because what if it didn’t compliment you? That would be the absolute END OF THE WORLD.

But! Your mind was made for you after you had gone on one of your wannabe superhero escapades and met some… strange boys.

You could fight decently, and when you first saw them you definitely thought they were some sort of evil monsters from another planet that you’d have to somehow defeat, however you were pleasantly surprised to find that they were just teenage mutant boys! They were your age, too.

You helped them out with the villain they were tailing and ended up making friends with them! They told you about this lair they lived in that was inside the sewers and that you should visit. You promised you would, though you looked…

Different.. When you arrived. Your blonde hair was now purple. Everyone knew immediately what was going on, especially after how you acted when they first met you. Well… everyone except the one you wanted to notice. Donatello.

He immediately piqued your interest after you had realized they weren’t evil space aliens there to kill you. He was smart, witty, and had this whole bad boy persona that made him oh so attractive. It’s like he was made to be your kryptonite.

Though he didn’t seem to feel that way about you. Actually, all of his brothers couldn’t help but adore you. You were this loud, rowdy girl who was also super fun to talk to. Those were all of the reasons Donnie didn’t like you.

You irritated him so much that his entire body flared up, angry heat spreading across his face. You went on and on about things that happened at school, or at home, or with this girl who told you that your sense of style was bad. You were invading his life all the time, and he was sick of it. Who were you to barge in and talk to him and try to be his friend? The audacity!

Yeah. He hated you. Sadly, that was the exact opposite of how you felt about him.

You tried for a few months to charm him or to generally befriend him, but he shot down every attempt. He showed absolutely zero interest in you, and you were going to accept that.

Until Leo had an idea, which is what led you to now.

You had just walked into the lair, a nervous smile plastered on your face. “Hey guys!”

The boys all perked up, looking over at the door. “Yoo!! Y/N!! It’s so good to see you–” Mikey got up and grinned before freezing.

Raphael was second to get up. “Did you get here saf–” He paused.

Donnie barely spared you a glance before he did a double take. “What did you do to your hair?”

Your normally purple hair was blue. Blue like..

“You look great!”

Leonardo.

“Thanks! I really like how the color turned out.” You didn’t acknowledge Donnie or his question, skipping over to Leo and sitting next to him.

“Blue really suits you.” He wore a shit-eating grin as he watched his twin from the corner of his eye.

Leo had always known that Donnie liked you. He saw the smiles that Donnie hid, and the way that he would just.. Look at you. Really look at you. That’s why he jumped to action the moment you told him you were going to try to move on. He prompted one last try. One last shot at winning Donnie over. He had tried to give Donnie time to process his feelings for you, but he just wasn’t getting it, and it was hurting you.

“D’aww, thank you.” You put a hand on his arm, mentally gagging. “Wanna hang out in your room?”

“Definitely!” He stood up, holding out a hand that you took as you both went on your way to his room.

…

Donnie was fuming. He had no idea why, but he was fuming. He had always passed off you and Leo’s friendship as an annoyance. Two loud mouths put together. Annoying, but bearable. But this… Were you dating? You ignored him. You just walked right up to Leo, then walked right into his room! His bedroom. It’s not like you two didn’t hangout there alone before, but it was just.. Just weird now!

Why was this bothering him so much? He shouldn’t care what you were doing. He shouldn’t care that you dyed your hair.

Then it dawned on him. It hit him like an anvil, this realization that he was not ready for.

He liked you.

All those times he brushed you off and you irritated him, he was really flustered. His face getting hot from anger was him blushing. You made him blush. You invaded his life because he let you. You invaded his brain because he likes you.

He didn’t know what to do with this newfound crush. You were very possibly dating his brother, and he didn’t want to ruin your relationship just because he figured out his feelings too late. He screwed it up.

But.. there was something that lingered inside him, telling him that he shouldn’t be so sure that you were dating Leo. He just hoped that little voice was right.

The next time you found yourself alone with Donnie was that night, in the kitchen. You had decided to sleepover since you genuinely did go over to hangout with everyone, not just Leo in an attempt to make Donnie jealous.

After Donnie had passed up watching movies with you guys in favor of working on a project, you hadn’t seen him. You and Leo’s plot didn’t seem like it worked. He was the exact same Donnie, just kind of.. Avoiding you?

You ran out of your drink during the second movie and excused yourself to the kitchen to refill it. To your surprise, you ran into Donnie, who had gone to get some water.

“Oh, hey.” You tilted your head a little when he tensed, slowly turning to you.

“Ah… Hey.” He swallowed, looking back to his cup.

You walked over to the fridge, grabbing a soda can. “What have you been up to?” Your usually energetic demeanor had disappeared, and you spoke with a soft voice.

It bothered him. “Just this.. Thing.”

“Ah.” You nodded, taking a sip from your cup. It was silent for a minute, and just as you were about to leave, Donnie spoke.

“..Are you dating Leonardo?”

“W– what?” You coughed on your drink, nearly forgetting all about you and Leo’s plan. “Oh.” You swallowed. “No, we’re not.”

Donnie visibly relaxed, enough that even you noticed. “Oh.”

The two of you were silent again. “..Why did you change your hair?”

You looked at the can before setting it down, rubbing the back of your neck. “I uh.. I guess I just didn’t think purple suited me.”

Donnie stared at you, looking for something in your eyes before he casually stepped closer to you. “I think it suits you.”

You looked up, blinking at him. “R–really?”

Donnie nodded. “And uh, I think purple would like to.. Apologize.. For not treating you well in the past, and not realizing how much he– I mean it, cared.” His cheeks heated up, and he glanced to the side.

You stared at him before you smiled softly, pink dusting your cheeks. You giggled. “Well, I hope purple knows that it’s okay, and I still like it.”

He looked at you again, his lips twitching up into a smile. “Really?”

You moved your hand down, taking his cautiously. “Really.”

+ extra

You and Donnie walked hand in hand into the living room, the both of you blushing brightly.

Leo looked over before whistling. “Called it!”

a/n: would anyone want like a pt 2 of this at any point ??? lmk if soo... same w if u want a version of this with one of the other boys <3

#x reader #fanfiction #donnie x reader #donatello x reader #donnie #donatello #rottmnt donnie x reader #rottmnt donatello x reader #rottmnt x reader #tmnt x reader #platonic leo x reader #leonardo #leo #fem reader #y/n #donnie x y/n

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twomiddlefingersforthehaters · 6 months

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_Art Book of Naruto Uzumaki_ Part-5

もう単純に普段と違う絵が描けたのが楽しかった。こそれはもうほとんど、ナルトとサスケを描いた、というよりカエルとタカを描いて喜んでました。

This one was fun simply because I got to draw in a different style. It was great to depict Naruto and Sasuke, or I should say, toad and hawk.

ナルトとサスケが対立していく本編の図式を、一枚の絵で表現したかったんです。共にお互いのことを良く分かっているので、刃を交わしながらも険しさは見せず、表情はむしろ冷静なくらい。ここでわざとらしく表情を露にしてしまったら、冷めてしまうと思うんです。感情を出さない、その静けさが逆に恐いかと。背景にも対立・対比を表現するために、"空と海”という2つのモチーフを入れ込みました。決して交わることのない緑と赤、空と海ですね。

I wanted to express the concept of the main storyline, where Naruto and Sasuke come into conflict, in a single image. Since they know each other so well, they aren't showing hostility even as they cross knives. They look rather calm. I thought that if I gave them obviously antagonistic expressions, it would come off as too deliberate. By hiding their feelings, I hoped the calm atmosphere would seem chilling. I put the two motifs of sky and sea in the background in order to express a sense of the characters' conflict and contrast. The green and red, and the sky and sea, represent things that never mix.

対称をイメージした構図で、ナルトがサスケの背中の上をぐるんと回っています。ふたりとも手足が同じ様なポーズになるようにして、背景に物を印で配置することで全体のバランスをとってます。さらにナルトの巻物が◯印になっていて ...そう、実は◯と×にもなっているんです(笑)。とにかく対称ということで、バランスをすごく意識して描きました。今見るとアニメの影響からか、絵柄が少し変わり始めてるんじゃないかな? 結構お気に入りの一枚です。

I wanted a sense of symmetry in this picture with Naruto rolling over Sasuke's back. I positioned these two with their arms and legs in similar stances, then I balanced the overall composition by putting two crossing scrolls in the background. Also, the scroll Naruto is holding forms a circle...yep, it's an X and an O (laugh). Basically, it was symmetry that kept me focused on the overall balance in this one. Looking at this picture now, it appears that my drawing style has changed a bit since then. Maybe I've been influenced by the anime? This is one I like a lot.

これは好きな絵ですね｡この構図も、左右対称を意識して描きました。鎖と紐... あと腕も対称なんです。こじんまりした絵になっちゃいそうだったので、マントで風を表現して動きを出しました。ナルトとサスケのからみ合っている手足がうまくいったかな、と。

This is one of my favorites. I focused on making a symmetrical composition here too. The symmetrical elements include the chain and the cord, and Naruto and Sasuke's arms. To keep the picture from looking cramped and static, I added the cloaks blowing in the wind. I think Naruto's and Sasuke's tangled limbs turned out nicely.

ジャンプの表紙に載った絵ですね。戦隊モノっぽいものを描いてくれって言われて。戦隊モノって見栄切るじゃないですか。決めポーズですね。で、サスケがキャラ的にそんなポーズをとるものか? と悩んだわけです。でもナルトはノリノリで、サクラも楽しそうにポーズをとっている。じゃあサスケは恥ずかしそうに･･･みたいな感じならOKかな、と。

This was on the front cover of Jump. I got a request to draw something like a superhero team for kids. Those heroes really strike great poses, don't they? This is Naruto, Sasuke and Sakura in hero poses. I wondered if Sasuke's personality would allow him to pose like that. But I knew Naruto would be willing to pose for sure, and so would Sakura, so I thought it'd be okay for Sasuke to strike a pose, if somewhat bashfully.

#masashi kishimoto #naruto #art book #Weekly Shonen Jump 2000 #Weekly Shonen Jump 2011 #sns #narusasu #sasunaru #my stuff

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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 6 months

Text

mr and mrs parker

pairing: peter parker x fem!reader

wc: 1.7K

warnings: none. clean as a whistle

summary: fury has assigned you and peter on an undercover mission. as a married couple. and the two of you haven’t even been on a first date yet. used prompts 3 and 7 from oblivious pining from @mangocherri

A/N: peter and reader are aged up to 21, but there’s nothing explicit happening.

masterlist / peter parker

“the both of you are going undercover at the event as a married couple. need these bugs to be planted where you deem fit. keep tabs on anyone suspicious, and stay lively and sober. be the happy couple.” fury left the tiny bugging devices and exited the room without further words.

you and peter stayed quiet while both of you sat at the giant conference table. two manilla envelopes were sitting in front of each of you with information on the targets and the object of the mission. along with the cover story, the both of you being the happy mr and mrs parker couple.

now there was a slight problem with the cover story, you were a married couple. not even a regular couple, just two friends/coworkers who have crushes on each other but are too chicken to do anything about it.

“ever been to an event like this?” peter asked. the first one to break the growing silence in the room.

you bent the corner of the folder, “uh, yeah. but only twice and both were in the shadow missions. being dressed as a waiter, passing through the crowd unnoticed. now i’m gonna be dressed nice and done up, eyes watching. still never used to that feeling.” hand leaving the card stock and falling into your lap. “you?” already knowing the answer.

he shook his head, “not my thing. usually, it’s spider-man coming in to save the day.”

“well,” you stood from your seat, “for the day we can pretend to be fancy people and a lovely couple.” hoping you didn’t show too much excitement for the last part.

“best day ever.” peter replied as he grabbed his papers, a nice red ghosting on his cheeks.

“excited?” natasha walked into your room and sat on the foot of your made bed.

you were sitting at your desk which was your temporary vanity for the time getting ready. tubes and powers, palettes and brushes were scattered over the surface, a task for future you to clean up. hair painstakingly styled from your usual combat sleek look, your arms getting their workout for the day.

you sighed at natasha’s question, “i feel sick,” grumbled as you looked for your blush. natasha just laughed at the comment, “that’s the butterflies, honey. your nervous cause of your partner. i’m sorry, husband.” she practically sang the word.

you dropped your voice, “no, it's not cause of peter. i’m just not used to being in an eye-catching position.” touching up your eye makeup for distraction.

“uh huh.” she didn’t sound convinced, “well, i’m sure my memory doesn’t fail me cause i swear, there was this girl a few months ago who came to me frantic about this crush she had on a bug superhero. but i guess i’m old since i’m in my late thirties.”

you dropped any brushes or makeup from your hand back to the table. a defeated sigh racking from your chest, “okay, yes, fine. it’s mostly cause of peter and how we’re probably gonna hold hands and maybe need to kiss or something. but there is a small part cause of the mission, that’s one hundred percent true.”

natasha stood from your bed and walked behind you, hands squeezing your shoulders, “you’re gonna do great, honey. you’re one of the youngest SHIELD agents, you know what you’re doing. and peter’s been getting better at undercover, there’s nothing to worry about. a simple bug and mingle.”

the two of you locked eyes in your mirror. natasha felt like an older sister hyping you up for your high school dance with a boy you liked, but in reality, it was an agent-to-agent pep talk for an undercover op with a web-crawling hero. tomato potato.

a gentle knock at the door stole the attention. you yelled for them to enter and peter poked his head around the gap, he sent a sheepish smile in greeting, and it made those flutters reappear.

“hi, sorry. don’t mean to bother-“ “your not a bother.” quickly interrupting peter. you ignore the look natasha sent you.

peter chuckled lightly, “thanks. uh, i was wondering if either of you could help with my bow tie? i can’t find anyone else in the tower and i wasn’t taught….” he trailed off while playing with the black fabric.

natasha patted your shoulders before moving away, “y/n can help. so i’m gonna head out and the two of you enjoy your date- sorry, mission.” leaving the both of you warm in the face and also giving peter a pat on his back before closing your door behind her. and then it was two.

you stood from your chair and made your way to peter. “sorry about her. loves messing with people.” rolling your lips and eyes shying away from peter’s pretty brown ones. again a light chuckle from him, “it’s- it’s fine. kinda used to that from my aunt.”

you nodded, “ready for tonight?” bouncing on the balls of your feet. you were still dressed in a loose shirt and shorts, planning to slip into your dress in a few minutes.

peter played with his bow tie, “physically just about. mentally… need a few more minutes to be thrown into the lion's den.” now you laughed as you plucked the fabric from him and stepped closer, “it’s not so much a lion's den, more like a… a monkey den.”

you popped peter’s stiff collar and slipped the fabric behind his neck, end pieces adjusted evenly. “what makes it a monkey’s den?” peter tilted his head back a little, chin almost hitting your forehead.

you spoke into his chest, fingers bending and twisting. “their all dressed in their monkey suits and throwing bullshit at each other. all they need is a couple of hung tires and boom, monkey den ala rich assholes.” pulling the finished bow tight.

you took a step back to admire your handiwork. peter dropped his head and his darting brown eyes made you part your lips subconsciously. peter swiped his hands down his pressed white button-up, “how- how do i look? like i’ll fight in?”

you let your eyes drift down his chest, the shirt loose enough that it wouldn’t strain when he moved his arms. the end of the shirt tucked into his black dress pants that were without a wrinkle and stopped just at his ankle. but when you went from toe to head, you only saw a boyish face with little bits of baby fat clinging to his cheeks. how he smiled awkwardly, teeth flashing white, his eyes nervous and almost blinking too many times.

“you won’t fit in.” saying the statement gently. peter deflated a bit, a crinkle in the middle of his brows. you gained that previous step back, right hand hesitantly falling over peter’s heart.

“but it’s best you don’t look like them. want you to stand out as your own.” boldly gazing into his eyes, letting your words melt into his brain for a moment before walking away. “now, uh, if you could just stay here so you could help with my dress that’d be great.”

“yeah! ye-yeah, can- can do that.” and you heard the heels of his sleek leather shoes click on your floor.

you grabbed the all-black gown from your closet and led into your connected bathroom. stripping off your casual comfy clothes, you held the dress to the floor and stepped in from the top to save your hair and makeup from friction. thick black straps sit on your shoulders and with a hand over your chest, you slide the door to shuffle back to the open space.

peter had his hands stuffed into his pockets and was leaning into your desk area, eyes taking in all the photos decorating your dirty mirror. he had a soft smile on his thin lips.

“a little help, spider boy.” sneaking up on him and not withholding the little giggle at seeing him startle in surprise. “thought you had a tingle for danger.”

“it’s called spider sense and you're not a danger, at least not to me.” you hummed as you turned your back to peter. you peeked a glance over your shoulder to see peter standing pretty close to your back, closer than would be normal to zip up a dress. he pulled both sides of the fabric tight then held them with one hand at the top of your back while his dominant hand tugged up the zipper slowly. you sucked in the sigh that wanted to escape at the feeling of peter’s touch and warmth, you kept your head forward and eyes focused on your messy bed.

peter stopped and you thought he was done but then his wrist skimmed across your neck and you couldn’t help the audible gasp. “sorry, didn’t want your hair getting caught.” his voice was low. “it’s okay.” almost breathless. “it’s- it’s beautiful. your hair and- and makeup. just not used to seeing you dressed up.”

a quick laugh, “yeah, definitely out of my comfort zone. but it’s- it’s not too bad. at least you're in the same boat, i’m- i’m guessing.” chiding yourself for the assumption, but peter quickly quelled the nerves, “definitely out of my zone. there, all done.”

turning to face peter you did the same actions as him earlier, looking down at your attire and smoothing your hands over invisible wrinkles. “not too much? not trying to draw attention.”

you waited to hear an answer but it never came. you looked away from the dress to see peter with wide eyes and a tight mouth. you stepped closer and pressed the back of your hand to his cheek and exposed forehead, “you okay?”

he mindlessly nodded, and you stepped away to look for your tiny heels. but stopped in your search at the crack of peter’s voice and the heart-racing words that left his mouth.

“what?” your own eyes blown large. peter scratched a hand on the back of his hair before shoving it into his pockets. he cleared his throat and looked directly at you while repeating, “you- you look beautiful. hard to not draw attention.” he cleared his throat again.

“uh, th- thanks, peter.”

“yeah… well i’m- im gonna wait outside. see- see you in a few minutes.” and he left before you could protest his absence.

#peter parker fic #peter parker x female reader #peter parker x you #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker fluff #peter parker x shield reader #spider man imagine #spider man fic #marvel x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel fluff #marvel imagine #marvel

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