#Azure Professionals

[qwikskills]

Why Azure Cloud Skills are Crucial in the Digital Age?

Azure Cloud skills are important in today's digital age as businesses move towards cloud technology. Azure, Microsoft's cloud computing platform, offers a range of cloud services, including compute, storage, networking, and analytics that businesses can use to modernize their infrastructure. , improve security and reduce costs.

Having Azure cloud skills can open doors for IT professionals and developers looking to pursue a career in cloud technology. Demand for Azure professionals is growing rapidly as more and more businesses adopt cloud technology. Azure offers a variety of certifications including Azure Administrator, Azure Developer, Azure Solution Architect, and more. that individuals can pursue to demonstrate expertise and advance their careers. Azure also provides a comprehensive set of tools and services for managing and monitoring cloud infrastructure, such as Azure Monitor, Azure Advisor, and Azure Security Center, that can help businesses improve performance, their overall reliability and security in the cloud.

In summary, Azure cloud skills are essential in today's digital age, as they provide IT professionals and developers with the knowledge and expertise to manage and monitor the facility. efficient cloud infrastructure. With the growing demand for Azure professionals, acquiring Azure certifications can provide significant benefits and open up exciting career opportunities. So start building your Azure cloud skills today to stay ahead of the competitive tech industry!

[spooky-month-archive]

hey ! sorry but i might sound like a nerd but in a live stream pelo said that patty will still be called patty ! like how rick’s real name is richard but every one else refers to him rick still, yk ? im not stopping u for this, u can still tag her as patricia azure !! (i js feel the need to say this, im sorry if im bothering u ☹️)

Hi, thanks for the ask!

Oh yeah, I kinda figured she'd still be referred to as Patty! I just like to tag posts with characters and their full names. The thing with Richard (Hedony) is that he also shares a name with Richard (Carmen's husband) hence why I tag Rick as Rick Hedony instead of Richard Hedony. Makes things a little less confusing. I'm doing a similar thing with Patty!

I know there aren't any other characters named Patty but again, it's for the sake of simplicity, plus I just like to tag things that way for whatever reason.

Similarly, if any other characters' full names are revealed I would change their tags! But Skid and Pump would be an exception. I dunno. it just feels wrong to refer to them as anything other than Skid and Pump

[chryzuree]

okay. au where azure’s a ghost / someone that’s trapped between two different times because his chrysi of his time died and his soul is instinctively looking for her. unfortunately, it found her in modern day, and now azure’s trapped in between times. also he might be dead. unsure.

ANYWAY, chrysi knows azure’s a ghost but she’s so weirded out by the fact that this ghost is acting like SHE’S the ghost. ???????????

[puspendratalks]

Boost Your Business with Expert MongoDB Development Services

businesses require robust and efficient database solutions to manage and scale their data effectively. MongoDB, a high-end open source database platform, has emerged as a leading choice for organizations seeking optimal performance and scalability. This article delves into the comprehensive services offered by brtechgeeks for MongoDB development, highlighting its key features, advantages, and why it's the preferred choice for modern businesses.

Technical Specifications

Database Type: NoSQL, document-oriented

Data Storage: BSON (Binary JSON)

Query Language: MongoDB Query Language (MQL)

Scalability: Horizontal scaling through sharding

Replication: Replica sets for high availability

Indexing: Supports various types of indexes, including single field, compound, geospatial, and text indexes

Aggregation: Powerful aggregation framework for data processing and analysis

Server Support: Cross-platform support for Windows, Linux, and macOS

Applications

MongoDB is versatile and can be utilized across various industries and applications:

E-commerce: Product catalogs, inventory management, and order processing

Finance: Real-time analytics, risk management, and fraud detection

Healthcare: Patient records, clinical data, and research databases

IoT: Device data storage, real-time processing, and analytics

Gaming: Player data, leaderboards, and in-game analytics

Benefits of Hiring brtechgeeks for MongoDB Development Services

Expertise in Ad hoc Queries: Our professionals possess extensive experience in handling ad hoc queries, ensuring flexible and dynamic data retrieval.

Enhanced Data Processing: Utilizing sharding and scalability techniques, we boost your data processing performance.

Improved Database Management: We enhance your database management system, ensuring efficient and effective data handling.

Complex Query Handling: By indexing on JSON data, we skillfully manage complex queries, improving performance and reliability.

24/7 Support: Our dedicated team works round the clock to provide optimum results and the best experience.

Request A Quote For MongoDB Development Services

Challenges and Limitations

While MongoDB offers numerous advantages, it also comes with certain challenges:

Data Modeling: Designing effective data models can be complex.

Memory Usage: MongoDB can be memory-intensive due to its in-memory data storage.

Security: Proper configuration is essential to ensure data security.

Latest Innovations

Recent advancements in MongoDB include:

MongoDB Atlas: A fully managed cloud database service

Multi-document ACID transactions: Ensuring data integrity across multiple documents

Enhanced Aggregation Framework: New operators and expressions for advanced data processing

Future Prospects

The future of MongoDB looks promising with continuous improvements and updates. Predictions include:

Increased Adoption: More businesses will adopt MongoDB for its scalability and performance.

Integration with AI and ML: Enhanced integration with artificial intelligence and machine learning for advanced analytics.

Improved Security Features: Continuous development of security features to protect data.

Comparative Analysis

Comparing MongoDB with other database technologies:

MongoDB vs. SQL Databases: MongoDB offers more flexibility with unstructured data compared to traditional SQL databases.

MongoDB vs. Cassandra: MongoDB provides a richer query language and better support for ad hoc queries than Cassandra.

MongoDB vs. Firebase: MongoDB offers better scalability and data modeling capabilities for complex applications.

User Guides or Tutorials

Setting Up MongoDB

Installation: Download and install MongoDB from the official website.

Configuration: Configure the MongoDB server settings.

Data Import: Import data using MongoDB's import tools.

Basic CRUD Operations

Create: Insert documents into a collection.

Read: Query documents using MQL.

Update: Modify existing documents.

Delete: Remove documents from a collection.

MongoDB stands out as a powerful, flexible, and scalable database solution, making it an excellent choice for businesses across various industries. By partnering with brtechgeeks, you can leverage expert MongoDB development services to enhance your data processing capabilities, ensure robust database management, and achieve optimal performance. Embrace MongoDB development to stay ahead in the competitive digital landscape.

For more information and to hire our MongoDB development services, visit us at brtechgeeks.

Related More Services

Website Design Services

Rapid Application Development

SaaS Software Services

About Us

BR TechGeeks was initiated in 2009 with a vision – to bring good technology and good relationships come together with collaboration. We are individuals with a passion for creativity and creativity makes us happy. We believe there is always a better way to bring your business online – whether it be a website or a mobile application. Not only do we stop there, we help get your business across to your customers. A creative use of technology can make complicated ideas more understandable and digital products

Contact Us

B-8 Basement, Sector- 2 Noida

U.P. India 201301

Call +91 7011 84 555 3

E-mail: info@brtechgeeks.com

[moreyeahs]

Tips to Choose the Best DevOps Consulting Services for Your Business

Find the best DevOps consulting services for your business with our helpful tips and recommendations. Elevate your operations and drive growth with MoreYeahs today. To know more checkout the PPT and visit: https://www.moreyeahs.com/services/cloud-computing/devops/

[integrative-systems]

How Microsoft Professional Services Transform Your Business?

Ever wondered why everyone’s buzzing about Microsoft professional services?

Well, you’re in for a treat!

Picture this: A world where your business thrives, all thanks to a suite of solutions tailored just for your business.

Sounds dreamy, right? But here’s the kicker – it’s not a dream. It’s what Microsoft offers, and they are pretty good at it!

Did you know that Microsoft’s ecosystem is like a Swiss Army knife for modern businesses? They’ve covered you, from Microsoft 365 consulting services to Dynamics, Azure, Power BI, and beyond.

One-stop solution to most of your modern business challenges.

And guess what? You’re at the heart of it all. Yes, you! Because Microsoft’s magic is all about making your business objectives come true.

But hold on, before we dive deep, let’s set the stage.

Why should you care about availing of professional Microsoft services right now? And how do these services transform your business?

Let’s embark on this insightful journey together!

The World of Microsoft Professional Services – What’s in it for You?

In a volatile business environment, composability is the key to winning. It empowers business leaders, like yourself, with the insights you need to make crucial decisions, get a better understanding of your customers, and embrace a more iterative process of working – says Gartner.

Professional Microsoft services are a blend of Consultation + Strategy + Execution.

No one understands your IT challenges and goals better than a team of seasoned Microsoft professional support experts and they very well know how to effectively translate them into solutions and achievements.

At first, they prioritize identifying your business challenges whether it is a software mess, sluggish systems, or data disasters. And they dig deep to analyze the root cause.

Once armed with insights, they march in to tackle the challenge, implementing curative and preventive measures, that restore your business order, optimizing your technology investments, and driving your business toward progress.

From enhancing collaboration to streamlining operations, Microsoft’s suite of professional services is designed to propel your businesses into the future.

But what makes this stand out?

Roping in dedicated Microsoft professional services partners like us, helps you enhance your team’s productivity and proficiency, maximize the results of these tools, reduce the hassle associated with software deployment, and prepare your team for future challenges.

Let’s unravel it further.

1. Microsoft’s Diverse Service Portfolio

Choices, choices everywhere! Microsoft’s service offerings are like a buffet, each more enticing than the last. And the beauty?

They cater to every business whim, ensuring you always have the right tool at your fingertips.

2. Microsoft 365 Services

Think of Microsoft 365 as your modern business’s backbone. It’s the glue that holds most of your operations together.

And with the right Microsoft 365 consulting services provider by your side, you get a tailored approach, strategic solutions, and maximum return on your investment.

3. Microsoft Azure – The Cloud Maestro

Azure isn’t just another cloud alternative; it’s a transformative force for your business regardless of its size. In a world where data stands supreme, Azure is the comprehensive cloud solution.

It provides unmatched flexibility, and scalability, with multi-layered security while dramatically reducing your upfront investment. It has the potential to transform your business now and in the future.

And Microsoft Azure professional services are the key to your modern-day cloud success.

4. Microsoft Dynamics – The Business Solutions Architect

Dynamics is where your business operations processes meet efficiency. It is a comprehensive solution combining CRM, ERP, and AI tools, in addition to productivity applications.

And the cherry on top? Microsoft Dynamics professional services ensure you harness its full potential.

Read More: https://www.integrativesystems.com/microsoft-professional-services/

[eduvatechdm]

“If you spend more on coffee than on IT security, you will be hacked.” 💻

[themanjeet]

Azure Certification Path: A Guide to Becoming an Azure Certified Professional

Microsoft Azure is a cloud computing platform that offers a wide range of services, including computing, storage, networking, databases, analytics, machine learning, and artificial intelligence.

https://medium.com/@rolandmack63/azure-certification-path-a-guide-to-becoming-an-azure-certified-professional-d633cfa84355

[lxndonorris]

home race - Oscar Piastri

Y/N x Oscar Piastri Theme: Smut (you've been warned) you're in a long-distance relationship with Oscar and surprise him at his "home race" x word count: 3250+ taglist: @game-set-canet open for requests :) EN: Another big piece and I hope you'll like it. My first time writing Oscar.

You sat in your living room, staring at your phone. The screen displayed a countdown timer you set months ago when you and Oscar, your boyfriend, decided you could handle a long-distance relationship.

Living in the United States while dating a Formula 1 driver based in Europe wasn't easy, but the two of you made it work. You spoke every day, sent each other thoughtful gifts, and cherished the moments you could spend together in person.

The countdown finally hit zero. It is time for your big surprise.

Oscar is in Monaco for the Grand Prix, and you planned to surprise him for months since the season started. You told him you wouldn't be able to make it due to work commitments, but in reality, you managed to arrange everything perfectly, with a little help from the Mclaren Team.

You had your flights booked, your accommodation sorted, and a special pass that would allow you into the Mclaren motorhome, where Oscar would eventually be.

When you boarded your flight, you felt a mixture of excitement and nerves. You knew how much this surprise would mean to Oscar. The past few months have been challenging for him, dealing with the pressures of being a professional F! driver while missing you. You wanted to make this moment unforgettable.

After a long flight and a quick check-in at your hotel in Monaco, you head straight to the racetrack. You are wearing a Mclaren team hoodie, jeans, and a fitting cap, blending in with the team. You find your way to the motorhome and, with the help of a team member who is in on the surprise, get inside and wait for Oscar.

The atmosphere in Monaco is electric. The sun shines brightly over the azure waters of the Mediterranean, and the roar of engines echoes through the narrow streets of the city. The Monaco Grand Prix is one of the most prestigious races on the calendar, and the excitement is palpable.

The qualifying session just ends, and he pushes his car to the limit and secures second place on the grid. The team is ecstatic, and Oscar feels a rush of adrenaline as he climbs out of the car, waving to the cheering fans. 

Inside the motorhome, your heart races as you finally hear footsteps approaching. The door opens, and you turn around to see Oscar standing there, a look of shock and disbelief on his face.

"Y/N? Is that really you?" Oscar's voice trembles with emotion.

You smile, your eyes filling with tears.

"Surprise!"

Oscar closes the distance between you in an instant, wrapping you in a tight embrace. He buries his face in her hair, inhaling your familiar scent, and holds you as if he never wants to let go.

At the same time, the faint scent of him swirls around you, and with a deep breath, you take it in, closing your eyes for a second to relish in this moment.

"What are you doing here?" He murmurs, his voice choked with emotion. "I can't believe you're here."

"I wanted to be here for you, at your home race." You say softly. "I've missed you so much, Oscar Piastri Leclerc."

Both of you pull back slightly to look at each other, your eyes meeting with an intensity that speaks volumes. Oscar cups your face in his hands, his thumbs gently brushing away the tears that escape down your cheeks.

"I've missed you too, Y/N. More than you can imagine."

You kiss—a tender and passionate kiss that seems to make up for all the time you spent apart. 

When you finally break apart, Oscar can't stop smiling.

"You look amazing in that Mclaren gear," he says, his eyes roaming all over you as they sparkle with admiration.

You chuckle, feeling a warmth spread through you. "I have to show my support for my favorite driver."

As you stand facing each other, the air between you seems to be charged with electricity. You feel the tension and excitement from qualifying still radiating off Oscar. 

Tentatively, you reach out, letting your hand run across his firm chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heaving chest beneath your fingertips. His whole body is slightly tensed, still buzzing from the adrenaline rush.

Oscar's eyes soften as he looks at you, a smile spreading across his lips.

"It's so good to see you," he murmurs, his voice filled with awe.

You smile back, your gaze drifting over his racing suit. "You look so good in that green and yellow racing suit, Oscar. Really, you do. It suits you perfectly."

The special suit, designed to honor Senna, clings to his frame in all the right ways, accentuating his athletic build. The vibrant colors contrast beautifully with his complexion, making him look every bit the star he is.

Oscar chuckles, a hint of pride in his eyes. "Thanks. I didn't think I could pull off these colors, but hearing it from you makes me believe it."

Your fingers linger on his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breath. "I missed you so much," you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. 

As your hand continues to stroke his chest, you feel Oscar's hands move to your waist, his fingers lightly gripping the fabric of your jeans. He pulls you slightly closer; your bodies now mere inches apart. The intensity of his gaze makes your heart flutter.

"Do you have some free time?" You ask, your voice soft and teasing, eyes glimmering with anticipation.

Oscar smirks, a playful glint in his eyes. "For you? Always."

The corner of your mouth lifts in a smile, your hand moving up to his shoulder. "Good." You breathe deeply, feeling the tension between you increase even more. "Because I've been waiting for this moment for a long time."

Unable to resist any longer, you lean in and kiss him passionately. The moment your lips meet, Oscar melts into the kiss, his arms tightening around your waist. The warmth and familiarity of the embrace make everything else disappear, leaving just the two of you in your own private world.

As the kiss deepens, you steady yourself against his firm chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palm. His hum of approval sends a thrill through you, and you take your time, savoring the moment, relishing the closeness you missed for far too long.

With a teasing glint in your eye, you reach for the zipper of his racing suit. Slowly, you begin to unzip it, feeling the resistance of the fabric give way. Oscar's breath hitches as you draw the zipper down to his tummy, exposing his tight black fireproofs beneath.

You let your hands slip inside, and stroke his chest. "You look so good," you murmur, your hands resting on the exposed fabric. The smooth, taut material hugs his body, accentuating his toned muscles.

Oscar's eyes darken with desire as he looks at your hands running across his chest, a mixture of amusement and longing playing on his features. "You're making it very hard to concentrate," he says, his voice low and husky.

You chuckle softly, your fingers tracing patterns on his fireproofs. "Good," you whisper, leaning in for another kiss. 

This time, it is slower, more deliberate; each touch and caress a reminder of the desire crackling between you.

As your kisses grow more intense, you feel the heat rising between your bodies. Oscar's hands roam over your back, pulling you even closer, as if he can't bear to let you go.

With your hands still roaming over his chest, you draw a line down to his abs, feeling the firm muscles beneath your fingertips. Each touch elicits several low growls from deep inside his throat, the sound sending shivers down your spine. As you continue your exploration, Oscar leans his head back, his eyes closing as he savors the sensation.

You decide to take things a step further. 

"Let me help you." You breathe deeply, gently pushing the upper half of his suit off his shoulders. 

Oscar obliges, his breath hitching as you peel the fabric away, revealing more of his muscular torso. The sleeves hang down from his waist, the tight fireproofs beneath barely able to contain the immense tension building inside him.

His muscles bulge with each movement, with each breath he takes, the strain and excitement of the day evident in every contour of his body. You can't help but admire him, your hands now tracing the lines of his arms, feeling the strength beneath his skin.

Oscar opens his eyes and looks at you, his gaze filled with desire and affection. "You're driving me crazy," he growls, his voice rough with need.

You smile with a playful glint in your eye. "Flex for me." You reply, your fingers continuing their journey across his entire upper body.

With a mischievous grin, Oscar obliges again, flexing his arms and chest, showcasing the impressive muscles that have been honed through countless hours of training. The sight makes your heart skip a beat; a rush of admiration and desire floods through you.

"Like what you see?" he teases, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You bite your lip, trying to keep your composure as you let your hands roam over his flexed muscles. "You have no idea," you reply, your voice filled with genuine awe.

He chuckles, the sound low and rumbling from deep inside his chest. "I'm just glad you're here to see it."

One of your hands traces the contours of his biceps, feeling the power and strength beneath your fingers, while you let your other hand roam freely across his chest and even further down to his crotch.

You feel his hunger building up inside his pants; the fabric bulges just along his member tenting visibly. With two fingers, you trace the tangible outlines of his lust again and again, eliciting more and more deep growls from his throat.

Oscar is thoroughly enjoying himself, responding to your teasing with a mixture of laughter and passion. You see the gleam in his eyes, the way he savors every touch and caress. 

Then, with a bold move, you slip one of your hands underneath his fireproofs, feeling the intense heat of his skin radiating against your palm.

Oscar's breath hitches at the sensation, his eyes so dark with desire. With a swift motion, he swipes the Mclaren cap from your head and lets it drop to the floor. A playful chuckle escapes his lips as he leans in, capturing your mouth in a deep, fervent kiss.

The kiss is electric, filled with a hunger that threatens to consume you both—the long separation and the yearning that built up between you. Your fingers splay across his warm skin, feeling the hard lines of his muscles beneath your fingertips. 

Oscar's hands roam over your back again, pulling you closer, before he takes the lead, guiding you through the room and across a huge empty wall. Gently, your back meets the wall, steadying the two of you fully. 

You feel the rhythm of his heartbeat, fast and powerful, matching your own. The world around you seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you locked in your passionate embrace.

His hands are now all over your chest, his touch both soft and possessive. Each caress sends waves of electricity through you, making your pulse race as far as his race car.

Oscar's kisses trail down your neck, leaving a warm, tingling sensation in their wake. His lips are gentle yet insistent, making a path that sets your skin on fire. The sensation is almost overwhelming—a perfect blend of tenderness and desire that makes your heart swell with emotion.

Amidst your intimate moment, you take in Oscar's familiar scent, a comforting aroma that envelopes you in a sense of security and belonging—a mixture of his cologne, mingled with the faint trace of adrenaline from the day's events, and the subtle hint of his natural scent.

Breathing him in, you feel a wave of warmth wash over you, and his scent is like a familiar embrace, making it even harder to concentrate.

Now, his hands slide underneath your hoodie, his fingertips dancing across your skin. You shiver at the sensation, your body responding instinctively to his touch. The contrast of his warm hands against the cool evening air heightens your senses, making every touch feel even more intense.

"You're amazing." Oscar breathes against your neck, his voice rough with emotion. "I need you."

Your breath hitches, your hands grip his shoulders for support as you tilt your head back, giving him better access. "Oscar," you whisper, your voice trembling with a mixture of desire and affection.

His hands roam freely now, exploring every inch of your torso with a reverent touch. You feel the strength and control in his fingers, the way he holds you as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

You arch into his touch, your own hands exploring the hard planes of his back, feeling the tension in his muscles. The fabric of his fireproofs is smooth and cool against your palms, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from his body.

"Oscar." You murmur again, your voice barely audible as you revel in the sensations he is creating. "I need you, too."

He lifts his head, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that takes your breath away.

"I'm right here," he replies, his voice steady yet husky.

Licking your lips in anticipation, you let out a long, exhausted sigh. At the same time, you feel one of his hands make its way down your chest and right to your jeans. In one swift motion, he unbuttons it, just to make way for his hand to slip inside.

Your breath hitches right away as you feel his fingers tracing patterns in all the right places.

Even though it's hard to keep your composure, you manage to return the favor, letting one of your hands run down his back, along his spine, around his waist, and between his legs.

As you touch him, Oscar lets out a low, primal groan, the culmination of all the teasing and desire building up between them. His response sends a thrill through you, igniting a fire that burns hotter with each passing moment.

The tension is palpable; both of you are aching for a release, craving the other's touch.

Together, you help each other undress just enough to make it work. Panting and growling, he tugs at your jeans until they are sliding down to your ankles, so his hands stroke your thighs delicately.

Then, it's your turn to help him. Pulling at the suit clinging to his skin, the two of you manage to pull his length out of his pants, just for you to hold it and play with it.

Exhausted, Oscar leans in, kissing you passionately. You melt into him, offering yourself for what's to come next.

The moment he slides inside your body, it sparks a tingling sensation inside your stomach, and you let out a low grunt. Simultaneously, he moans right into your mouth, making it even harder to keep a straight face.

He is the first to take the lead again.

With your back against the wall, he begins to grind his hips against yours, rhythmically, sensually, and it is easy for you to catch up. The two of you move in sync with one another, letting out low growls, moans, and grunts.

Your hands wander all over his chest, stroking him through his firerpoofs. Oscar's breath comes in ragged gasps, his eyes dark with desire as he watches you. 

The sensation of your touch through the fabric sends waves of heat through him, encouraging him to increase the pace and strength of his thrusts. In return, he steadies himself against the wall behind you while his other hand lingers on your breasts.

Your movements are slow and deliberate; you are fully aware of his most sensitive spots, and you encourage him more and more. Pinching his nipples, tracing the tangible outlines of his abs, and feeling his muscles bulge harder and hader.

Panting and moaning, Oscar's body grows stiff and rigid; unable to contain himself, he bites his lower lip before he grunts angrily.

"Fuck."

You revel in the power you have over him and the way he responds so intensely to your touch.

With each stroke, you feel him growing even more aroused, his body still tightening instinctively to your touch. His hands grip your breasts tighter, sending waves of pleasure through your entire body.

The two of you move as one; every thrust sends you closer and closer to the edge, and the way he grunts deeply tells you he feels the same.

As you lose yourself in the heat of the moment, you know there is no turning back. Your passion burns bright, consuming you both in a whirlwind of sensation and emotion.

With one final, heavy thrust, both of you let go of all that pressure and tension and scream out in ecstasy.

Several exhausted moans leave Oscar's lips, and he leans forward, grateful for the wall steadying him. At the same time, you lean your head back, moaning deeply.

You rest your head against his shoulder, swallowing hard. His body embraces yours right away; his firm shoulder is the perfect place right now.

Out of breath, the two of you barely regain your composure before you lock eyes again, both of you smiling contently.

"That was so good." He moans, exhausted, before he leans in, kissing you deeply.

"Oscar." You breathe into him, kissing him back.

After your passionate moment, you share another tender smile, your hearts still racing with the intensity of your connection. 

With gentle touches and soft kisses, you help each other get dressed again, your movements slow and deliberate again.

As you adjust the sleeves of his fireproofs, you look up at Oscar, your eyes filled with affection. "You were amazing today," you say, your voice filled with pride. "I am so proud of you."

Oscar smiles back, his expression softening. "I am so glad you are here." He replies, his voice tinged with gratitude.

As he begins to change into fresh clothes, you watch him closely, unable to tear your eyes away. 

Oscar moves with natural grace; every movement is fluid and confident. You can't help but admire the way his muscles shift beneath his skin as he removes his racing suit and tight firerpoofs.

He catches your gaze, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. Sensing your admiration, he makes a little show out of changing, exaggerating his movements slightly as he slips out of his fireproofs and into a fresh pair of underwear you hand him.

You laught at his antics, enjoining the playful side of him that he reserves just for you. As you pull on the pair of jeans and the Mclaren shirt, you feel a surge of affection for him, admiring the way he looks in the team gear.

"You look amazing." You say. "But then again, you always do."

Oscar grins, his eyes shining brightly. "I have to look my best, especially with you around." He replies, his tone teasing.

With a final adjustment to his shirt, Oscar turns to you, his expression softening. "Thank you for being here," he says, his voice sincere. 

You reach out and place your hand on his chest again, gently stroking him once more. "I'll always be here for you." You reply. "No matter what."

[amirasainz]

I was wondering if you could write a Pierre x reader where it’s kinda like your lance one where they’re having a photo shoot but things get spicy

Oh my god. It's been so long since I wrote an Amira Sainz story. I thought this was the perfect opportunity to write one again.

Guys, you can always send me requests for anything❤️

Enjoy reading and send some requests

-xoxo, Babygirl 💋

No Part 2

The Perfect Shot

The sun hung high in the sky, its golden rays shimmering off the azure waves surrounding the luxurious yacht. The gentle rocking of the boat created a soothing rhythm, the sound of laughter mingling with the soft lapping of water against the hull. Amira stood at the edge of the deck, the salty breeze playing with her long, dark hair. She wore a stunning black swimsuit that hugged her curves perfectly, accentuating her figure. The elegant jewellery she adorned sparkled like stars against her sun-kissed skin, while her high heels lent her an air of sophistication even on a yacht.

Pierre leaned against the railings, wearing nothing but stylish swimming trunks that showcased his athletic build. He adjusted his sleek sunglasses, his heart racing at the sight of Amira. They were friends, of course—he had spent many weekends with the Sainz family, enjoying their hospitality and bonding with Carlos. But today, it felt different; the atmosphere was charged with a tension that made Pierre’s palms sweat.

“Are you ready, Amira?” he called, a playful grin spreading across his face.

“Just a second!” she replied, turning to face him, the sunlight illuminating her face. “I want to make sure I look perfect for these shots!”

Pierre stepped closer, trying to keep his composure. “You already look perfect. You’re going to steal the spotlight, not just from the yacht but from the ocean itself.”

Amira blushed slightly, her cheeks tinged with pink as she adjusted the necklace around her neck. “Stop it, you’re making me nervous!” She giggled, brushing her hair behind her ear. “This is just a fun photoshoot, right?”

“Fun? Absolutely! But also a chance for me to get some incredible pictures of you,” Pierre teased, stepping back to take a mental snapshot of her. “Just think of it as practice for when you become a model.”

“Me? A model?” Amira laughed, tilting her head in disbelief. “I think I’d trip and fall before the camera even clicked!”

“Not with me around to catch you,” Pierre shot back, his heart skipping at the thought. “Besides, you’ll be too busy stunning everyone with that smile of yours.”

With a playful eye roll, Amira joined him on the deck. “Okay, let’s get started before I change my mind!”

The photographer, a well-known professional with a reputation for capturing breathtaking moments, was already set up with his camera, ready to catch every smile, laugh, and spontaneous moment. “Alright, you two! Let’s get some warm-up shots. Amira, why don’t you sit on Pierre’s lap for the first pose?”

Amira’s eyes widened, and she shot a glance at Pierre. He shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant despite the rapid beating of his heart. “It’ll be fun, I promise.”

With a hesitant smile, she sat down on his lap, her heart racing for entirely different reasons now. The warmth of Pierre’s body radiated against her, and she couldn’t help but notice how close they were. “Is this okay?” she asked, her voice a mix of excitement and nervousness.

“Perfect,” Pierre whispered, leaning in slightly so their faces were mere inches apart. “Just relax and have fun.”

As the camera clicked, Pierre wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her securely. “You know, you look absolutely stunning like this,” he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. “The sea has nothing on your beauty.”

Amira giggled, feeling a thrill from the compliment. “You’re just saying that to make me blush!”

“I would never lie about something so important,” he replied, his tone playful yet sincere. “Trust me, you’re the highlight of my day.”

As they posed, Amira felt more comfortable, her laughter mingling with Pierre’s teasing remarks. He whispered sweet nothings that made her heart flutter, each comment bringing them closer. “What if I told you I’d never want to take my eyes off you?” he murmured, leaning closer.

“Is that a line?” she asked, a teasing smile on her lips.

“Maybe it’s a promise,” he replied softly, his eyes sparkling behind the lenses of his sunglasses.

After a few more poses, the photographer suggested they change locations to the front of the yacht. “Let’s try a more dynamic shot! Amira, stand at the edge while Pierre holds your waist from behind.”

Amira moved to the edge, her heart pounding as Pierre stepped behind her. She felt his hands at her waist, grounding her, and the ocean breeze blew her hair back dramatically. “Are you scared?” he asked, his voice low, sending shivers down her spine.

“A little,” she admitted, glancing back at him. “But I feel safe with you.”

“Good,” he replied, leaning in closer, his lips almost brushing her ear. “Just remember to breathe. And if you fall, I’ll catch you.”

The photographer snapped away, capturing the moments of joy, laughter, and undeniable chemistry between them. As Amira leaned forward to pose, Pierre’s grip tightened, and he couldn’t resist whispering, “You know, if you keep looking that beautiful, I might just have to keep you on this yacht forever.”

“Is that so?” she teased, her heart racing. “And what would we do here? Just take photos all day?”

Pierre chuckled, his face lighting up. “Well, I can think of a few other things…” His voice trailed off, leaving the implication hanging in the air, thick with tension.

“Oh really? Like what?” Amira prompted, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“Like maybe having a little dance party on the deck, just us and the ocean,” he suggested, the playful glint in his eyes making her laugh. “Or a sunset picnic, where I can show you my cooking skills… or lack thereof.”

Amira’s laughter rang out, bright and genuine. “I’d love that, but we might need to stick to takeout unless you plan to burn the yacht down!”

“Touché! Let’s focus on the photoshoot for now,” Pierre said, laughing. “But remember, I have plenty of ideas.”

As they continued to pose, the sun began to set, casting a warm golden hue over everything. Pierre’s playful side came out as he tried to make Amira laugh in every shot, pulling funny faces and whispering the most ridiculous compliments. “You know, if you don’t stop being this cute, I might really fall for you,” he joked, though a part of him meant every word.

“Good luck with that! I’m pretty clumsy,” she replied, laughing as she adjusted her hair.

Pierre smirked, “Clumsy is charming! It’s like a bonus point in the dating world.”

“Oh really? Is that how it works?” Amira shot back, raising an eyebrow playfully.

“It’s my philosophy,” he said, “and I might just have to test it out someday.”

Amira felt a warmth spread through her at his words, a flutter of excitement dancing in her chest. “Maybe we should make a deal then,” she suggested, her eyes glinting mischievously.

“A deal?” Pierre raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

“Yes! If you can make me laugh in the next few poses, I’ll agree to a sunset picnic,” she said, her smile infectious.

“Challenge accepted!” he grinned. “You won’t know what hit you.”

With renewed energy, they continued posing. Pierre made silly faces, spun around, and even tried to dance, making Amira laugh uncontrollably. The photographer captured every moment, but it was the chemistry between them that truly shone through the lens.

Finally, the photographer suggested a final pose as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with streaks of pink and orange. “Let’s do something romantic. Amira, sit on the edge, and Pierre, come behind her again, but this time, wrap your arms around her waist and pull her close.”

Amira’s breath caught as she followed the direction. She perched on the edge of the yacht, feeling the cool breeze against her skin. Pierre stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, his chest pressed against her back. “You’re going to fall!” she teased, turning her head to look at him.

“I’ve got you, don’t worry,” he whispered, his breath tickling her neck. “Just hold on tight.”

As they posed, Pierre leaned closer, his lips almost grazing her skin. “You know, this moment is perfect,” he murmured, a seriousness replacing the playfulness. “I can’t imagine sharing it with anyone else.”

Amira felt a rush of heat flood her cheeks. “You’re making me blush again!”

“That’s my job,” Pierre said, a playful smirk on his face. “Now smile for the camera, beautiful.”

As the photographer captured the moment, Amira turned her head slightly, and their lips brushed ever so lightly. Both froze, the air thick with tension as their eyes met. Pierre’s heart raced, and he felt a rush of boldness. “Amira, I…”

Before he could finish, Amira interrupted, her voice barely a whisper. “Maybe we should focus on the photos…”

But Pierre couldn’t resist the urge. “What if I told you I really like you, Amira? Like, a lot,” he confessed, his voice low and sincere.

Her eyes widened, a mix of surprise and delight. “Really?” she asked, searching his face for sincerity.

“Absolutely. You’re amazing—funny, sweet, and beautiful. I can’t help it,” he admitted, his arms tightening around her as if to emphasize his words.

Amira felt a rush of warmth in her chest. “I had no idea you felt that

°••°°••°°••°°••°°••°°••°°••°°••°°••°°••°°••°

The conference room buzzed with energy as Carlos and Charles sat across from each other, going over strategy for the upcoming race. The air was thick with anticipation until Carlos's phone buzzed incessantly on the table.

“¿Qué demonios?!” Carlos exclaimed, his eyes widening as he glanced at the screen. Photos of Amira in her black swimsuit, giggling and wrapped in Pierre’s arms on the yacht, flooded his notifications.

“Carlos?” Charles asked, noticing the sudden shift in his friend’s demeanor.

Carlos stood up, pacing the room, his fists clenching. “¡Maldita sea! This is unacceptable!” he swore in Spanish, frustration boiling over. “What the hell was Pierre thinking?”

Charles, looking pale, muttered, “I didn’t know… I thought they were just friends…”

Carlos shot him a look, his protective instincts kicking in. “Just friends? Look at those pictures! He’s all over her!”

Charles buried his head in his hands, his world crumbling. “Oh my God, please, no... Amira, no,” he murmured, instinctively praying in Italian, “Per favore, proteggila!”

Fred, sitting at the head of the table, sighed heavily, clearly done with the chaos. “Calm down, Carlos! You’re acting like a child. We have a meeting!”

“Not until I deal with this,” Carlos shot back, determination etched on his face. “I’m going to strangle Pierre!”

“Calm down before you end up on the front page of the tabloids,” Fred replied, exasperated, rubbing his temples.

As Carlos continued to pace, Charles whispered a silent prayer for Amira’s safety and asked God to give him the chance to do a photoshoot with her next.

[qwikskills]

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[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: On Colour

Describing Colour in your Poetry and Stories

BLACK Shadow Black, Dusk, Midnight, Blackbird, Blackberry, Ebony, Black Honey, Darkness, Jet Black, Ink Black, Soot, Onyx, Licorice, Ivory Black, Pitch, Char, Gloom, Outer Space, Creosote Black, Melanite, Goth Black, Gunpowder

BLUE Blueberry, Sapphire Blue Metallic, Tiffany Blue (Pantone 1837), Cobalt Blue, Denim, Aquamarine, Turquoise, Sky Blue, Topaz, Ultramarine Blue, Azure, Cerulean, Oxford Blue, Periwinkle, Electric Blue, Baby Boy Blue, Pthalo Blue, Robin's Egg Blue, Persian Blue, Marino Blue, Prussian Blue

GREEN Leafy Green, Olive, Moss Green, Jade, Lime, Sour Apple Green, Emerald Green, Mint, Kiwi Green, Phthalo Green, Praying Mantis Green, Viridian, Greenback, Shamrock, Sap Green, Chartreuse, Sea Green, Pistachio, Teal, Bamboo, Sea Salt, Celadon Green, Celery, Asparagus Green, Fern Green, Neon Green, Jungle Green, Pear Green

ORANGE Pumpkin, Burnt Orange, Carrot, Sunset Orange, Tangerine, Persimmon, Salamander, Tennessee Orange (Pantone 151), Jack-o'-lantern Orange, Florida Orange, Summer Squash, Pale Daffodil, Smashed Pumpkin, Saffron, Autumn Orange, Macaroni and Cheese, Cadmium Orange

PINK Pink Flamingo, Neon Pink, Bubblegum Pink, Salmon, Peach, Fuscia, Cotton Candy Pink, Rose, Carnation, Thulian, Apricot, Atomic Pink, Barbie Pink, Hot Pink, Amaranth, Flushed, Glitter Pink

PURPLE Lavender, Purple Haze, Grape, Eggplant Purple, Plum, Violet, Orchid, Psychedelic Purple, Amethyst, Lilac, Boysenberry, Mulberry, Wisteria, Bruised Plum, Indigo, Mauve

RED Blood Red, Copper, Maroon, Strawberry, Watermelon Red, Crimson, Candy Apple Red, Tomato, Brick Red, Scarlet, Cardinal Red, Cherry, Ruby Red, Coral, Sunburn, Hot Lava, Cadmium Red, Auburn, Blush, Alizarin Crimson, Fire Engine Red, Raspberry, Vermillion, Lipstick, Burgundy, Magenta, English Vermilion, Mahogany

WHITE Dirty White, Albino, Chalk, Alabaster, Cotton, Titanium White, Vanilla, Bone White Egg Shell, Marshmallow, Ivory, Pearl White, Almond, Champagne, Blond, Cream, Milky White, Corn Silk, Bleach, Navajo White, Ghost White, Light, Cloud White

YELLOW Canary Yellow, Lemon, Banana, Egg Yolk Yellow, Mellow Yellow, Chanterelle, Mustard Yellow, Corn, Goldenrod, Amber, Pineapple, Metallic Gold, Cadmium Yellow, Wheat, Tuscan Sun, Butter, School Bus Yellow, Yellow Ochre, Citron, Dandelion

BROWN Mud Brown, Beaver, Caramel, Rust, Macaroon, Toasty Brown, Coffee, Sandy Tan, Cocoa, Honey, Chocolate, Burnt Sienna, Mocha, Seashell, Antique Brass, Bronze, Brown Sugar, Chestnut Brown, Taupe, Burnt Umber, Khaki, Dark Sienna, Light Chocolate, Sepia

GRAY Stone Gray, Ash, Metallic Silver, Platinum, Smoke, Concrete Gray, Mercury, Steel Gray, Mist, Titanium, Charcoal, Slate, Sterling Silver, Tungsten, Old Coin Gray, Iron Gray, Chrome, Magnesium, Overcast

MIXED Candy Cane (red and white), Zebra (black and white), Chameleon (many different colours), Ladybug (black and red), Wildfire (yellow, orange and red), Tiger (orange, black and white), Yellow Jacket (black and yellow), Christmas Lights (red, white and green), Rainbow (red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet), Black Pepper (black and gray), Leopard (spotted gold and black), Creamsicle (orange and white), Candy Corn (orange and white), Iceberg (a bluish gray), Marbled

COLOURS: Symbolisms, Associations & Psychological Effects

Black. Especially in Gothic literature from the West, a black colour choice often represents death, evil, grief, and depression. Associated with fear, the unknown and often has a negative connotation. Black clothes can make you look thinner. A black background severely diminishes the readability of most type. Often the go to colour for funerals and grieving. It symbolizes stability and power, which gives a sense of authority. Thus, the black colour often represents professionalism and expertise.

Blue. Has positive and negative connotations in colour psychology. Some writers may use blue to represent serenity and tranquility, instilling a scene with a calming effect. Blue can also signify sadness, melancholy, or isolation. People who find someone very loyal and faithful are often called "true blue". Blue is often considered to be more masculine which is why it is often the colour of choice when choosing a suit. Lighter blues are associated with tranquility, softness and healing. Darker blues are associated with power, knowledge and seriousness. Blue is actually shown to suppress appetites a bit. The colour blue symbolizes wisdom and hope. It’s the colour of peace and confidence. Blue has been shown to reduce blood pressure and pulse rate. It fosters serenity and a sense of belonging.

Green. The colour green often symbolizes rebirth, growth, peace, jealousy, and greed. Green colours may also represent spring and renewal. It is a colour that is very easy on the eyes. Dark green is often associated with ambition. Green suggests stability, safety and hope. At the same time, it may denote a lack of experience in a particular field. Green symbolizes peace, growth, and nature. It is the colour of success, promoting healing and tranquility.

Orange. The colour orange often represents energy, excitement, joy, and creativity. Since orange is the colour of fire, it may also symbolize heat. Since orange is not as aggressive as red, it can actually stimulate brain activity. It is very useful to catch someone's attention, which is why it's used a lot to advertise food and toys.

Pink. The colour pink symbolizes love, kindness, femininity, innocence, and playfulness. Certain shades of pink can limit aggression. Pink may be associated with unconditional love and caring.

Purple. Often associated with royalty, the colour purple symbolizes bravery, spirituality, and luxury. Light purple usually brings up romantic or nostalgic feelings; while a darker shade can make you feel gloomy or sad.

Red. The colour red symbolizes some of the most powerful human emotions, like passionate love or lust. On the other side of the spectrum, this warm colour is also the colour of blood, often symbolizing anger, danger, and violence. It stimulates the appetite. Red is an emotionally intense colour associated with energy, danger, anger, passion and determination. The symbolic meaning associated with the colour red is passion, excitement, and love. It’s the colour of urgency, power, and desire. Red is said to boost hunger and is believed to inspire confidence and excitement. This colour has also been found to increase blood pressure and heart rate.

White. This primary colour traditionally symbolizes innocence, peace, and cleanliness. In Western cultures, the colour white also represents purity and virginity, while it symbolizes mourning in some East Asian cultures. Usually has positive connotations when used and thought of as safe. Associated a lot with healing, simplicity and sterility, which is why it's used in hospitals and healing centers as much as it is. The symbolic meaning of the colour white is truth and sometimes even indifference. It encourages feelings of safety and cleanliness. Clean, white clothes and linens show sterility since stains are easily visible. That’s why doctors and nurses frequently wear white lab coats and scrubs.

Yellow. Writers may use the colour yellow to symbolize creativity, happiness, optimism, and warmth—think of a yellow ray of sunlight poking out from a dark cloud. A common negative connotation of the color yellow is cowardice, popularized by the phrase “yellow-bellied.” Warming effect which stimulates body and mind. Gold is associated with the highest of luxury. When bright yellow is used with black it's one of the easiest colour combinations to see from long distances; when uses with lighter colours it's not so easy to see. Yellow ribbons are worn as a symbol of hope and used quite often to welcome home loved ones. Yellow is the colour of warmth, kindness, and happiness. It’s often associated with optimism and well-being and promotes energy.

Brown. This warm, earthy brown colour may symbolize dependability, comfort, and a sense of being grounded. Brown is also a neutral colour, and writers may use it to represent dullness and predictability. Brown is a colour that is related to very grounded traits such as simplicity, practicality, common sense and hard work. Can also be associated with those that are frugal and not too flashy.

Gray. Lighter grays are often thought of as more feminine while darker grays more masculine. Gray is considered by many to be a neutral colour; the perfect balance between light and dark / good and evil. Pop up the lighter grays and add a little shine to it, and thought immediately turns to silver, which correlates to wealth.

Sources & related articles: 1 2 3 4 5 ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References

If these writing notes helped with your poem/story, please tag me. Or leave a link in the replies. I'd love to read them!

[pin-k-ink]

caught in between // grimmjow jeagerjaquez & ulquiorra schiffer (pt. 1)

tw ⇢ mentions of violence and injuries, mild objectification, manhandling, dirty talk, punishment sex, possessive!ulquiorra, anal fingering, squirting, clit play, teasing, vaginal fingering, power play

wc ⇢ 4.2k

part one | part two | part three

The door to your quarters burst open with staggering force, the towering figure of Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez filling the entrance. You startled, eyes widening at his battered state - teal hair disheveled, clothes rent in several places, a vicious sneer twisting his bloodied lips.

"You," he snarled, prowling forward like a panther cornering its prey. The sheer force of his reiatsu battered against you as killing intent rolled off him in waves. "Get over here. Now."

There was no room for argument or defiance, not when his azure gaze pierced you with such ferocious intensity. As Ulquiorra's fracción, you knew the precarious position tending to other Espada could put you in, but Grimmjow left no opportunity to refuse.

With rigid professionalism, you slowly approached him, making sure to keep a safe distance. He merely grunted, allowing you to carefully peel away the tattered remnants of his jacket to inspect the damage.

You worked in tense silence, acutely aware of Grimmjow's eyes boring into you as you cleaned and dressed the oozing lacerations crisscrossing his chiseled torso and arms. It wasn't until the last bandage was taped down that he finally spoke again in that deep, gravel-laced rumble.

"He really keeps you on a tight leash, doesn't he?" There was a taunting edge to Grimmjow's words. "That prissy Ulquiorra, always striding around like he owns you."

You froze, anxiety spiking as his large palm caged you against the wall, body thrumming with subdued power and promised violence. Grimmjow leaned in until his smirk filled your vision, near enough for you to smell the copper tang of blood on his heated breath.

"Tell me, pet..." His free hand drifted up to cup your jaw with deceptive tenderness, thumb brushing your lower lip. "You ever get tired of being someone's obedient little fracción? Always following orders like a good bitch in heat?"

Grimmjow's words had an undeniable effect as he crowded you against the wall, his larger frame radiating dangerous dominance. His thumb traced the seam of your lips with torturous leisure.

"I'll bet you're just aching for someone to put you in your place, remind you what you really are," he rumbled, azure gaze darkening with blatant promise. "A pretty little pet, made to obey."

His palm slid down, calloused fingers curling possessively around the column of your throat as he leaned in closer. You held perfectly still, equal parts intimidated and fascinated as his lips brushed the hypersensitive skin just below your ear.

"I could show you what it's like," Grimmjow murmured, the rumbling timbre sending involuntary shivers down your spine. "Bein' owned by someone who isn't afraid to put a leash on you. Keep you nice and obedient like the bitch you want to be."

His teeth nipped at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, a sharp sting followed by the velvet swipe of his tongue. You couldn't stifle the soft gasp at the bold claim of dominance. In the next breath, Grimmjow sealed his lips over yours in a demanding kiss, all teeth and sin and smoldering want.

The temperature in the room dropped in an instant, a glacial wave of reiatsu crashing over you. Grimmjow's hands fisted in the fabric of your clothes as he whipped around with a feral snarl.

Framed in the open doorway stood Ulquiorra, emerald gaze piercing with frigid contemplation taking in the compromising scene. A hairline fracture marred the area beside the entrance where his bare hand was splayed against the wall.

"Grimmjow," he stated in that dispassionately even tone. "Remove your hands from my fracción this instant."

Grimmjow's expression sharpened into a taunting smirk, not an ounce of intimidation in the face of Ulquiorra's cold fury. His hands remained fisted in the fabric of your clothes, body angled in a clear statement of defiance and challenge.

"Your fracción, huh?" He drawled, giving you a deliberate onceover. "You sure 'bout that, Ulquiorra? Seems to me like your little pet has been dying for someone else to take her for a walk."

The temperature dropped several more degrees as Ulquiorra's reiatsu pulsed with the barest flickers of reined rage. You shrank back against the wall as the two Espada locked in a battle of sheer dominance.

"I won't repeat myself, Grimmjow," Ulquiorra intoned with chilling evenness. "Release her. Now."

The taller Arrancar barked out a harsh laugh. "Or what? You gonna make me?" His tongue traced the corner of his bloodied mouth as he deliberately crowded closer to you, body a mocking provocation. "Maybe I'm gettin' a little tired of you hoarding all the pretty pets for yourself, Ulquiorra."

His large palm cupped the back of your neck as he leaned in, lips brushing the delicate shell of your ear. "Maybe it's time I picked up a new bitch to train..."

The resounding boom of Ulquiorra's Sonido reverberated through the chamber. You flinched violently, held immobile by Grimmjow's iron grip as Ulquiorra now loomed mere inches away. The temperature had plummeted to arctic levels, his emerald stare lasering into you with an intensity you had never witnessed before turning that baleful promise of violence on Grimmjow.

"You will not lay another hand on what is mine, Grimmjow," Ulquiorra stated with soft, undeniable finality. "Unless you wish to have it removed permanently."

The two Espada stared each other down, locked in a battle of sheer dominance and unspoken challenge. Grimmjow's smirk stretched wider, downright feral as he made one last play.

"We'll see about that," he purred, blatantly pulling you flush against his chest as his hot tongue traced the racing pulse of your throat. "I always did love breaking in a new bitch..."

Ulquiorra remained utterly motionless, reiatsu thickening the air with an oppressive, arctic chill as he stared Grimmjow down. There was no outward shift in his stoic expression, but his emerald gaze glinted with a contemplative darkness that promised unimaginable consequences.

Grimmjow met that stare for a tense few heartbeats before throwing his head back with a scoff of dismissive amusement. With one last lingering look at you, he slowly freed his grip, calloused fingers trailing along your jawline.

"You just keep telling yourself that, Ulquiorra," he rumbled, pitched just loud enough to ensure his next words carried clearly. "But I'm going to make that pretty little fracción of yours scream for me soon enough. Gonna have her soaking my sheets, beggin' me to let her be my new obedient pet."

The faintest of smirks pulled at Grimmjow's split lips as he took a deliberate step back, allowing his heated leer to rake over your tense form once more. "I'll be sure to let you hear every desperate, needy sound she makes when I'm pounding into that-"

Whatever filthy promise he was about to make died on his tongue as Ulquiorra's frigid reiatsu spiked in a sweeping arc of murderous intent. Grimmjow's eyes cut towards the fourth Espada, a taunting grin splitting his face at provoking such a rare show of unrestrained fury.

With one final, mocking sweep of his gaze over you, the Sixth retreated towards the shattered entrance, movements rolling with barely leashed violence.

As the doorway fell ominously silent in Grimmjow's wake, you swallowed hard, pinned in place by the circling vortex of Ulquiorra's presence. His stare remained fixated on where the other Arrancar had disappeared, emerald irises glittering with quiet menace.

Ulquiorra's gaze bored into you with an intensity that rooted you in place long after Grimmjow's mocking footsteps faded. His reiatsu swirled in a maelstrom of icy displeasure and barely restrained violence. When he finally spoke, his tone was clipped and brooked no argument.

"Come."

He didn't wait for a response, pivoting on his heel and trusting you to fall into step behind him. You hastened to obey, trailing in his wake as he led you through the maze of corridors in tense silence. From your periphery, you stole glimpses of his ramrod straight back and the subtle flex of powerful shoulders beneath the white jacket.

At last, he ushered you through an unmarked door into his private quarters. The atmosphere was spartan and austere, not a single item out of place. Ulquiorra turned to face you, emerald stare piercing straight through you as he loosed the barest exhalation.

"Explain yourself." It was not a request.

You swallowed hard, trembling slightly under the full weight of his banked displeasure. "I-I was just following orders, treating Grimmjow's injuries as protocol..."

The faint twitch of his brow indicated he was unimpressed with your excuse. In three strides, he erased the space between you, artic eyes blazing as he caged you against the unforgiving wall. His palms slammed on either side of your head with enough force to make you flinch.

"You allowed him to touch what is mine," Ulquiorra stated, each word laced with a dangerous undercurrent. "To make lurid claims and disrespect the order I have established."

His body was a solid, unyielding line mere inches from yours, radiating an intensity that stole the breath from your lungs. You felt utterly pinned, ensnared by the scorching promise blazing in his gaze.

"You have been reminded of your place," he murmured in that low, even timbre that brooked no argument. "Now you shall receive...punishment."

You trembled under the full intensity of Ulquiorra's emerald glare, his reiatsu a suffocating vortex of arctic dominance.

"Strip," he commanded in a tone that brooked no argument.

Your breath hitched, caught between instinctive obedience and a tendril of hesitation. As his sole fracción, you knew all too well how possessive and territorial the cuatro Espada could be. But an intimate act like undressing before him felt...uncertain. You had always sensed an inexplicable connection, but your relationship existed in a careful imbalance, devoid of human constructs like romance.

Ulquiorra's eyes narrowed a fraction at your hesitation, jaw tightening imperceptibly. In two strides he closed the distance, hands shooting out to fist in the collar of your jacket. With one harsh yank, the sturdy fabric parted in a spray of buttons as he laid you bare from the waist up in a single, ruthless motion.

You gasped, instinctively trying to cover yourself, but he was uncompromising. His larger frame boxed you in, hands gripping your wrists to pin them against the wall above your head. His body was an unyielding line pressed against you as he wielded his considerable weight and strength to immobilize you completely.

"Do not test me, woman," Ulquiorra stated in a low rasp that contained no inflection...and every unspoken threat. "You forget your place far too easily."

His free hand scored down your front, blunt nails raking down the exposed skin of your breasts before continuing in one fluid motion. The remaining garments covering your frame parted like tissue paper in his wake, fluttering to pool at your feet in ruined tatters.

You stood utterly bared before him, pulse fluttering wildly in your throat as his hungry stare drank in every unveiled inch. Ulquiorra leaned in, lips a hairsbreadth from your ear, tone softened to a molten rasp.

"You. Are. Mine. This is merely a reminder..."

His muscled thighs forced your legs apart as one iron-cord arm wrapped around your waist, hauling your exposed body flush against his.

A breathless gasp tore from your throat at the feeling of his arousal, heavy and insistent against your core.

Your fingers dug into his shoulders, nails scraping against the smooth bone as he held you in a vice grip, preventing you from pulling away. Ulquiorra's palm slid across the swell of your hip, fingers digging in with bruising strength as he angled your hips up, grinding the bulge of his cock against your slit.

You let out a breathless, stuttered moan, arching instinctively as pleasure lanced through you, white-hot and searing. You felt him throb against your core, the sensation only heightening your own growing desire.

"It's my duty to remind you," Ulquiorra continued in a husky rasp as his free hand slid up, calloused fingers curling possessively around the curve of your breast. "To remind you exactly who you belong to..."

His thumb dragged across the taut bud of your nipple, drawing another involuntary moan from your lips. You were already slick and aching, the rough friction of his clothes against your sensitive flesh sending jolts of electric heat straight to your core.

"But you don’t deserve my cock," Ulquiorra continued with deceptive softness. His voice was a velvet-laced threat, every syllable laden with promise. "Not yet."

With a sharp motion, his large hand wrapped around the column of your throat, forcing your chin up and leaving you exposed. He squeezed, a subtle reminder of his unwavering dominance. Your pulse raced under the firm press of his palm, a dizzying cocktail of adrenaline and desire thrumming through your veins.

Ulquiorra's thumb pressed into the corner of your mouth, forcing your lips open as his eyes flashed with dark intent. His head tilted down, hovering close enough for his heated breath to fan over your lips as he murmured a single command.

"On the bed."

You didn't hesitate. The moment his hand left your throat, you scurried to obey, crawling across the stark white sheets. Your knees sank into the plush material, the smooth fabric a cool contrast against your flushed skin. Before you couldeven turn back to look at him, Ulquiorra's hand pressed down against the small of your back, forcing you forward onto the mattress.

"Present yourself."

That commanding rasp had you shivering, a visceral reaction to the unspoken demand. The air thickened with the crackling energy of his reiatsu, a silent reminder that you were entirely at his mercy. You knew better than to test him.

With your palms planted against the sheets, you arched your back, raising your ass high in a display of unspoken submission. You couldn't help the hot flush creeping down your neck and spreading across your cheeks at the lewdness of your position, but there was no denying the answering flood of heat between your thighs.

The bed shifted, a subtle creak as Ulquiorra joined you. Your entire body was strung tight, every nerve alight with a delicious tension at being so thoroughly under his control. You felt his presence, a magnetic pull, even before his warm palms slid along the backs of your thighs, mapping the soft skin.

"Do not move," Ulquiorra stated, each word laden with unmistakable promise. "Unless I instruct you otherwise."

His thumbs pressed into the seam of your legs, parting the sensitive folds of your pussy. The rush of cool air against your dampened slit drew a soft gasp, followed by an unbidden moan as his thumb traced up and down your dripping slit.

"How predictable," he murmured, tone dipping into that darkly amused purr that made your stomach twist with anticipation. "Already wet and wanting. You would present yourself so easily, offer your body up to the first one who asks?"

Ulquiorra's fingertips danced up and down your slit, painting the slick, velvety flesh with feather-light strokes. He dipped in ever so slightly, tracing the puffy outer lips of your entrance. "As if it doesn’t already belong to me…"

Your breath came out in shallow pants as he traced the edges of your dripping slit, not quite penetrating, but drawing forth the slick proof of your arousal. His thumb dipped in, gathering the moisture before circling the swollen bud of your clit.

Your fingers tightened into the sheets, fighting the urge to arch into the tantalizing pressure as he circled and stroked with torturous leisure. It was an effort not to squirm and buck against his hand, chasing the mounting pleasure.

"Be still," Ulquiorra warned.

There was a note of warning in his tone, a subtle reminder that your pleasure was entirely at his mercy. His fingers continued their slow, teasing exploration, spreading your folds with excruciating care.

"You should be grateful," he continued in a dark murmur. "Grateful that I am the one who chose you. That I have allowed you the honor of belonging to me."

His palm slid across the curve of your ass, leaving a trail of slick against your skin. "If I were anyone else, I would have already taken you by now. Pinned you down and forced myself inside you."

A ragged moan slipped past your lips at the thought of being used so roughly. It was a perverse fantasy, one you had never dared imagine with him. You wanted to bury your face in the sheets, hide the shameful heat flooding your cheeks, but you dared not move.

Ulquiorra's thumb pressed into the puckered rosebud of your asshole, making you jerk at the unexpected sensation. He paused, letting the weight of his gaze settle on you, a subtle reminder of his unrelenting dominance.

"But I am not," he continued, the subtle note of amusement lacing his words. "I am not that beast, Grimmjow, who would simply take whatever he wants. I am not that lowly hollow, content to rut mindlessly and waste my seed on the next available female."

You shuddered, torn between the thrill of his words and the fear that he would leave you like this, a desperate, needy mess. Ulquiorra's free hand splayed across the small of your back, a heavy reminder of his presence.

"And neither are you." His tone softened, the faintest hint of approval coloring the deep rasp. "You will know my cock when I decide to give it to you."

His thumb continued its unhurried circle of your asshole, each pass dipping a little further, teasing the tight ring of muscle. You whimpered, torn between the dual sensations, both of which made your cunt clench with white-hot need. "Now, open yourself for me."

Ulquiorra's order had a sharp, authoritative edge that made you ache with arousal. The heat of his palm disappeared, the sudden loss of contact making you feel strangely exposed. Your fingers flexed in the sheets, hesitating for a moment.

"Wider. Expose yourself."

His words were a command, brooking no disobedience. You obeyed, shimmying your knees a little further apart, the movement causing your ass to spread wider. You had never been so lewdly displayed before, never felt so vulnerable.

The faintest exhalation reached your ears, a soft huff of breath that was the closest thing to a verbal acknowledgment from Ulquiorra. His palm trailed down the curve of your ass, tracing a path of fire in its wake. A tantalizing pause before you felt his finger brush against your folds.

"Good girl."

The praise sent a jolt straight through your core, the subtle warmth in his tone spurring you on. His finger slid along your slick folds, gathering the evidence of your desire before circling the puckered rosebud again. The slick pressure had you sucking in a sharp breath, hips twitching instinctively.

"Keep your hands on the bed," Ulquiorra warned. "Or I will tie them down and leave you aching and unsatisfied. Do not think I will tolerate such disobedience."

He emphasized his point with a deliberate swipe of his thumb along the sensitive seam, making your toes curl. You could do nothing but nod and sink further into the mattress, surrendering to his touch.

Ulquiorra resumed his unhurried exploration, dipping his index finger into the tight furl of your ass before circling it with tantalizing leisure. Your breath hitched as he repeated the motion, pressing his slickened finger just past the tight ring of muscle.

You were helpless to the moan that slipped out, a visceral reaction to the unfamiliar intrusion. A momentary pause, as if he was contemplating, then Ulquiorra slowly pressed forward, working his finger inside you.

A breathless moan tumbled past your lips, the slow stretch and burn sending a wave of pleasure-pain coursing through you. The sensation was unlike anything you had ever felt, the unfamiliar fullness drawing a choked gasp from your throat.

Ulquiorra didn't stop, his free hand splaying across your lower back as he worked his finger deeper. You shivered, feeling the weight of his gaze boring into you. There was an element of possession in his movements, his dominance a palpable force as he worked you open, claiming your body in a way you had never known.

"You would allow a beast like him to touch what is mine," Ulquiorra continued. His low tone was laced with subtle displeasure, each word a quiet statement of ownership. "Would you let him defile this beautiful body of yours?"

His finger pumped slowly, sliding deeper, working you open as he pressed his thumb against the puffy, pink lips of your cunt. The dual stimulation had you writhing, a whimper slipping from your lips as he stretched your ass.

"You're lucky I was the one to find you first," he murmured, tone edging towards dangerous. "Had any other male discovered you, they would have mounted you without question. You would have been nothing more than a hole for them to use."

You whimpered, equal parts humiliation and arousal at the image his words painted. His finger thrust forward with more force, making you gasp. You wanted to protest, deny the possibility that anyone else could possess you the way he did, but you knew better than to speak.

Ulquiorra withdrew, only to return with two fingers this time. The sudden increase had you crying out, hips twitching instinctively. You didn't dare move, knowing all too well the consequences. But it was a challenge to remain still when every inch of you ached for release.

"But not me. I am not a beast, woman." His tone had dipped, taking on a dangerous edge. "I will not debase myself by taking you so roughly, like some mindless animal. I am above that."

His fingers scissored and spread, working your ass with relentless precision. He didn't pause or hesitate, not even when you clenched down around him, a natural reaction to the overwhelming pleasure-pain.

Your eyes squeezed shut, unable to stop the whimper of want and desperation as he slid deeper, his knuckles bumping against the puckered ring of your ass. Every instinct told you to writhe and buck, to seek more friction, but you forced yourself to stay still.

Ulquiorra's palm slid down the curve of your ass, fingers tracing the seam of your leg, painting your skin with the evidence of your arousal. You couldn't hold back the moan as he traced your dripping slit, circling your clit with the barest of pressure.

"You are going to come for me," he stated. It was not a request, nor an offer. It was a command, spoken with absolute certainty. "And you are going to scream my name when you do."

There was no room for refusal. Ulquiorra's finger stroked your clit, rubbing slow, measured circles, all while continuing to pump his fingers into your ass. The dual sensations were too much. Your hips twitched and jerked, fighting the urge to buck wildly as heat coiled low in your stomach.

Your thighs trembled, every nerve singing, drawn impossibly tight. All it took was the slightest increase in pressure on your clit. Pleasure exploded, white-hot and blinding, coursing through you like a lightning strike. A powerful rush of hot liquid gushed from your pussy, soaking Ulquiorra's hand and the sheets beneath. The breath was knocked from your lungs as your entire body shook and convulsed.

A guttural cry was wrenched from your throat as you came, vision going white. All the while, Ulquiorra never paused or faltered, driving his fingers in a relentless rhythm. You were continuously wracked with waves of pleasure, the aftershocks rippling through you, spraying a stream of hot liquid with every pump of his fingers until it slowed down to a trickle.

By the time the last shuddering pulse subsided, you were gasping for air, head spinning with the force of your release. You could only collapse onto the mattress, a shivering, spent mess.

For a moment, the room was filled with nothing but your labored breaths. You lay sprawled across the soaked sheets, trembling as your body came down from the intense high.

A firm tug on your arm startled you, jerking you upright. Before you could fully register, Ulquiorra's warm palm gripped the back of your neck, fingers tangling in the sweat-dampened strands. He jerked you forward, pulling your mouth to his.

His lips crashed against yours in a demanding kiss. There was nothing tender or exploratory about it. It was a conquering, a claiming. The hard press of his lips bruised and battered as he devoured you.

It was all you could do to hold on. Your fingers clung to his shoulders, nails scraping against the fabric as his tongue pushed past the seam of your lips. A strangled moan was ripped from your throat, muffled by the ferocity of his kiss.

Ulquiorra was unforgiving. He swallowed every sound, claiming and dominating until the taste of copper bloomed on your tongue. When he finally pulled away, the look he leveled at you was pure, unadulterated ownership.

"It seems I was the one to make you soak my sheets," he murmured, his deep timbre roughened by a hint of emotion. His grip tightened, emerald irises boring into you. "Remember this."

With that, he released his grip, leaving you dazed and breathless. He didn't turn back, merely straightened his clothes and strode to the door, a silent dismissal. As the entrance swung shut behind him, the only thing left for you to do was sink into the damp sheets.

[buckets-and-trees]

Chosen, Part 1: Arrival

Characters/Pairings: eventual Bucky x curvy Millennial Female!Reader, Natasha Romanoff, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark Word Count: 3.4k Summary: After surviving three rounds of interviews, you have been invited for a full-day to tour and interview at the estate and headquarters that belong to the Winged Heritage Foundation.

SERIES Content Warnings: SOFT!DARK STORY, cult themes, explicit smut, dubious consent and enthusiastic consent, veiled truths, gaslighting

CHAPTER Content Warnings: none

Notes: I started writing this story with the intention for it to be a long one-shot, but after it shot past 18k, I realized I would need to break it up into installments, so ... expect sort of a slow burn for the plot? Installments will be posted on Mondays and Thursdays.

Shout outs to @stargazingfangirl18, @witchywithwhiskey, @biteofcherry, and @vonalyn for helping me get my ideas sorted out for this trip!

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You scroll through the note in your phone with questions to ask during a final interview as the car pulls off the interstate and starts down a country highway lined with trees.

At least you hope this is the final interview.

You had applied for a basic administrative assistant position with the Winged Heritage Foundation, but after your first interview you had been called by a recruitment officer and asked if you would consider a different position with the organization, one that hadn’t been posted publicly.

You still don’t know what the position is you’re being considered for, but after two more interviews, you had been notified that you were a finalist and invited to a full-day interview and tour of the Foundation’s headquarters – an estate outside of the city. They had even arranged for a professional car service to pick you up and take you there. The offices in the city, where your previous three interviews had taken place, evidently handles most of the business operations for the Foundation, and the estate is where the more focused work takes place.

You are naturally a bit nervous for a fourth - and full day - interview, but you feel you like your nerves are at a healthy level - present but not paralyzing, a small buzz that will keep you focused.

The car slows as it approaches a break in the trees, and your driver signals to turn. As you round the corner, your breath catches in your throat. A wrought-iron gate stretches across a wide driveway, its intricate scrollwork spelling out "Winged Heritage" in elegant script. The gate swings open silently as your car approaches, as if by magic.

The driveway stretches before you, a winding ribbon of pale gravel cutting through a verdant landscape that takes your breath away. Ancient oaks and maples line the drive, their branches reaching across to form a dappled canopy overhead. Bright morning sunlight filters through the leaves, casting dancing shadows on the ground.

As you travel deeper into the estate, meticulously manicured gardens unfold on either side. Vibrant flower beds burst with color - deep purple irises, sunny yellow daffodils, and blood-red roses. The gardens give way to rolling lawns of emerald green, dotted with sculpted topiaries in fantastical shapes.

As the car rounds another bend, a shimmering pond comes into view. Its surface is like polished glass, reflecting the azure sky and fluffy white clouds above. A family of swans glide gracefully across the water, their long necks arched in elegant curves. At the far end of the pond, a delicate bridge of white marble spans the narrowest point, its railings gilded with gold.

The driveway begins to climb a gentle slope, and as you crest the hill, your jaw drops at the sight before you. A magnificent mansion rises from the landscape, its pale stone walls glowing warmly in the morning sunlight. The architecture is a stunning blend of classical elegance, with graceful arches and intricate stonework that seems to ripple and dance as you approach.

The central facade is a masterpiece of symmetry, with wide steps leading up to a grand entrance flanked by towering columns. Ivy climbs the walls in artful patterns, as if guided by an invisible hand to accentuate the building's most beautiful features.

The car follows the curve of the driveway as it sweeps up to the grand entrance before coming to a stop. You take a deep breath, steadying yourself for what lies ahead. The driver opens your door, and you step out onto the gravel, the crunch beneath your feet grounding you in the moment.

A figure emerges from the ornate double doors at the top of the steps, and your heart skips a beat as you recognize her instantly. Natasha Romanoff, the Chief Recruitment Officer, descends the stairs with astonishing grace. Her vibrant red hair catches the sunlight, creating a halo effect that seems almost otherworldly. She's dressed in a sleek black pantsuit that exudes both professionalism and an air of mystery. As your eyes meet hers, you're struck by the intensity of her gaze - piercing green eyes that seem to look right through you.

As she draws closer, you notice a subtle smile playing at the corners of her mouth, a mix of confidence and what you suspect to be mischief. Over the course of your brief interactions up to this point, she had been nothing but professional, but you could feel some alluring pull or energy that seemed to run deep beneath the surface of her controlled demeanor. She had been present in your second interview, conducted the third with one of her associates, and had been the one to schedule you for this.

"Welcome," Natasha says, her voice smooth as silk. "We're so pleased you could join us today." She extends her hand, and you shake it, noting the firmness of her grip.

"Thank you for having me," you reply, proud that your voice doesn't betray your nerves. "The estate is absolutely breathtaking."

Natasha's smile widens slightly. "It is, isn't it? We find that beauty inspires greatness. But come, let's not linger in the driveway. We have a full day and much to show you."

She gestures towards the entrance, and you fall into step beside her as you ascend the stone steps. The massive doors swing open silently, revealing a grand foyer that takes your breath away. The ceiling soars overhead, at least three stories, adorned with an intricate fresco depicting a beautiful sky, birds in flight, and towering trees, bringing the beauty of the grounds into this entry.

Natasha guides you through a doorway off to the side of the foyer, leading you into a small sitting room. The space is elegantly decorated with plush couches, rich mahogany furniture, and intricate paintings on the walls.

"Please, have a seat," Natasha gestures towards one of the couches as she takes a seat in an armchair across from you. You sink into the soft cushions, trying to take in everything at once - the opulence of the room, Natasha's presence, and her piercing gaze.

"First things first,” Natasha says, a professional smile on her face, “the nature of what goes on here is very sensitive and so I'll need you to sign this NDA before we continue." She hands you a stack of paperwork and a pen.

You quickly skim through the document before signing it, feeling slightly uneasy about signing something so quickly without fully understanding what the day ahead of you will entail. But your curiosity outweighs your hesitation and when Natasha takes back the signed document, she slides it into a briefcase by her side.

"Now that's out of the way," she says smoothly, "let me tell you more about our foundation."

She proceeds to give you an overview of the Winged Heritage Foundation – an overview of its history, mission, and values. It's all very intriguing and impressive - but although what she shares is engaging, outside of supporting initiatives identified as important to its founder and possibly something to do preservation of history or historical places and artifacts, you still feel you don’t have any clearer of an idea of what the Foundation’s actual purpose is. But since you have an entire day here, you don’t press the point now, assuming some part of the day will be dedicated to diving deeper into the work they do.

"But enough about us," Natasha says with another enigmatic smile. "Let's talk about what brought you here today."

She pulls out your resume from her briefcase and goes over your experience and qualifications with sharp attention to detail. She asks probing questions that make you feel like she's reading between the lines of your professional achievements.

"Impressive," she comments once she's finished going over your resume. "Your professional and personal character references also speak very highly of you."

Your brow furrows slightly. “Sorry,” you interject, “I don’t remember giving personal references?”

“No, you did not. But we do a lot of work on our end to vet candidates at this point for positions like this. Surely you understand.”

You nod slowly and train your face back into a smile. At least whatever homework they seem to have done on you came back with a positive result.

She leans forward slightly, and you can feel the intensity of her gaze. "We need someone who's truly suited for the responsibilities, but personnel fit is also incredibly important to us.”

“Of course,” you respond. “And what responsibilities exactly would you be looking for me to fulfill?”

Natasha presses her lips together and seems to scrutinize your face more closely. “You’re being considered for two opportunities. Until later in the day when I’ve made a determination on which I’ll recommend you for, I won’t be disclosing that information to you.”

“Oh,” you’re a little surprised at her directness, but you suppose her reason for withholding the information is logical.

“As the Chief Recruitment Officer, I’m very good at what I do, so I’ll know your future with us by the end of the day.”

Natasha rises from her chair with fluid grace. "Shall we begin the tour?" she asks, extending her hand to help you up. You take it, noting the surprising strength in her grip. “I'm eager to show you the wonders of our estate."

She seems to hold your hand longer than necessary, or maybe it’s just your nerves, maybe you looked unsteady standing up and she was only ensuring you were okay.

As you follow her out of the sitting room, you're once again struck by the grandeur of the foyer. Natasha notices your gaze lingering on the fresco above. "That was commissioned by our founder," she explains. "It's said to depict the view from the highest peak of a mountain range that no longer exists."

She leads you down a long corridor, its walls lined with portraits of distinguished-looking individuals. "Our benefactors and notable members throughout the years," Natasha explains. "Each one has contributed significantly to our mission."

The corridor opens into a vast library that takes your breath away. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves stretch as far as the eye can see, filled with leather-bound tomes. The air is heavy with the scent of old books and polished wood. Sunlight streams through tall windows, casting a warm glow over the room. The library is a bibliophile's dream, with rolling ladders affixed to the shelves, gorgeous wooden tables for spreading out books for research, and cozy reading nooks tucked into alcoves.

As you walk between the towering shelves, you notice that some of the books look ancient, their spines cracked and faded with age, some even appear to be bound in unfamiliar materials. Others appear to be in pristine condition, despite clearly being very old.

"Our collection is quite extensive," Natasha says, running her fingers along the spines of nearby books. "We have texts dating back centuries, some of which are the only surviving copies in the world."

"How do you preserve them so well?" you ask, unable to hide your fascination.

Natasha's lips curl into a mysterious smile. "We have our ways. Mostly it’s all down to our librarian Jarvis.”

She leads you through a set of double wooden doors at the other side of the library. Once you exit, Natasha leads you through a series of grand hallways, each more breathtaking than the last. The walls are adorned with tapestries and paintings that seem to come alive as you pass, their subjects' eyes following your movement. You could swear you see a figure in one portrait shift slightly, but when you look back, it's perfectly still.

"This wing houses our main offices and research facilities," Natasha explains as you walk. "We have state-of-the-art equipment for analyzing artifacts and documents, as well as a world-class conservation lab."

You pass by rooms filled with people working diligently at computers, their screens displaying what look like ancient texts and complex diagrams. In one room, you glimpse a team carefully examining what appears to be an old manuscript under specialized lighting.

As you continue down the hallway, you notice a door that seems different from the others. It's made of dark, heavy wood and adorned with intricate carvings. Unlike the other doors which are open or have glass panels, this one is firmly shut.

Natasha catches you looking at it. "That area is off-limits, I'm afraid. Some of our more... sensitive projects require absolute secrecy."

You nod but can't help feeling a prickle of curiosity. What could be behind that door that requires such concealment?

Natasha guides you to an elevator at the end of the hall. As you step inside, you notice there are more floors than you would have expected from the outside view of the mansion.

"We have quite extensive facilities underground," Natasha explains as she presses a button for one of the lower levels. "It allows us to maintain the historical integrity of the mansion's exterior while having all the modern amenities we need for our work."

The elevator descends smoothly, and when the doors open, you find yourself in a sleek, modern space that contrasts sharply with the ornate decor above. The walls are a pristine white, and the floors are polished concrete. The lighting is bright but not harsh, giving the space a clean, almost clinical feel.

Natasha leads you down a corridor lined with glass-walled rooms. In one, you see people in lab coats hunched over microscopes. In another, a group is gathered around a large touch screen, manipulating 3D models of what look like ancient artifacts.

"This is our primary research facility," Natasha says, leading you down a wide corridor. "We have some of the most advanced technology in the world at our disposal here."

As you walk, you pass by rooms with glass walls, allowing you to see inside. In one, you spot what looks like a holographic projection of a complex molecule rotating in mid-air. In another, a team of scientists in white lab coats huddle around a table, examining something you can't quite make out.

You pause for a moment, trying to take it all in. The contrast between the classical architecture upstairs and this futuristic facility is striking. "This is incredible," you say, unable to keep the awe from your voice. "I had no idea the Foundation had such advanced capabilities."

Natasha's lips curl into a satisfied smile. "We pride ourselves on being at the cutting edge of research and technology. It's essential for some of our work. We’re also one of the few science labs in the world that still is granted an affiliation with the nation of Wakanda."

As you continue down the corridor, you notice a few doors that aren't made of glass like the others. These are solid metal, with keycard readers and what look like biometric scanners next to them.

"What's behind those doors?" you ask, curiosity getting the better of you.

Natasha's expression doesn't change, but you sense a slight shift in her demeanor. "Those are our most sensitive research areas. Access is strictly limited to senior researchers and leadership."

As if orchestrated for this precise moment, the doors slide open, and two men emerge, engaged in a heated discussion. Or, rather, one of them is heated, and the other is shooting back casual, sarcastic comments.

Natasha clears her throat, “Gentlemen.”

They both stop.

“We have company,” she says, gesturing to you.

The two men turn to face you, and your jaw nearly drops as you instantly recognize them. Standing before you are none other than Tony Stark and Steve Rogers, two of the most famous figures in the world and certainly at the Foundation.

Tony Stark, looking every bit the billionaire genius he's known to be, is dressed in an impeccably tailored suit that probably costs more than your current yearly salary. His goatee is perfectly trimmed, and his hair is styled with just the right amount of casual messiness. There's a faint blue glow visible beneath his shirt - the arc reactor that's become his trademark.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Tony says, his eyes sparkling with curiosity and mischief. He steps forward, extending his hand. "Tony Stark. But you probably knew that already."

As you shake his hand, you can't help but feel a bit starstruck. Tony Stark's grip is brief but firm and confident, his smile charming yet slightly calculating as he sizes you up.

"And this strapping specimen of American values is Steve Rogers," Tony adds, gesturing to the man beside him.

Steve, standing tall and broad-shouldered, offers you a warm smile that seems to light up the room. He's dressed more casually than Tony in khakis and a fitted blue shirt that barely contains his muscular frame. His handshake is strong but gentle, and his blue eyes radiate sincerity.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Steve says, his voice deep and reassuring. "I hope you're enjoying your tour of our facilities."

You manage to find your voice, introducing yourself. “The tour has been nothing but fascinating and impressive so far,” you affirm.

Tony's eyes gleam with interest. "Oh, you’re the one they’ve been wooing, eh? I was sent no less than five reminders this morning that I was to be on my best behavior,” he discloses with a wink.

Natasha rolls her eyes, and you have the suspicion Steve only barely restrains himself from doing so.

"Anyway, welcome to the Foundation," Tony says.

"Stark is supposed to be one of our most valuable researchers," Natasha explains.

"Eh, that’s why you send Steve down to get me back in line when I’m pursuing tangential projects."

This time Steve does roll his eyes.

You can't help but chuckle at the banter between Tony and Steve. Their dynamic is exactly as you'd imagined from what you've seen in the media - Tony's quick wit and sarcasm playing off Steve's more serious demeanor.

"So, what do you think of our little operation so far?" Tony asks, gesturing broadly at the surrounding facility. "Pretty impressive, right?"

Before you can answer, Natasha interjects smoothly. "I'm sure our guest is finding everything quite fascinating, but we should continue the tour. I'm sure you both have important work to get back to."

Tony raises an eyebrow at Natasha, a silent exchange seeming to pass between them. "Right, right. Important work. Can't keep the world waiting, can we?" He turns back to you with a grin. "It was a pleasure meeting you. I’m sure we’ll be seeing you around."

“You’ll at the very least be seeing me,” Steve says. “I believe I’m scheduled to join you for lunch.”

“And I’m not invited?” Tony protests, but he sports an unrepentant grin rather than any genuine offense.

Steve puts a hand on Tony’s shoulder to steer him away, “You’re not the Executive Director of the Foundation, so, no.”

Tony shrugs out of his grip, “And remind me why that is?”

“‘All administrative, no science,’ as you aptly put it so many times when you remind me why you don’t want to listen to what I say.”

“Right,” Tony replies, but does fall into step with Steve heading down the corridor.

As they leave, you can't help but feel a mix of excitement and bewilderment. Meeting two such prominent figures so casually during your interview process only adds to the surreal nature of this experience.

Natasha gently touches your elbow and guides you away from the metal doors and continues down the corridor. "My apologies for that interruption," she says, though her tone suggests she's not entirely displeased. "Mr. Stark has a tendency to... make an impression."

You nod, still processing the encounter. "It's no problem at all. I'm just surprised to see them here. I knew they were involved with the Foundation, but I didn't realize they were so hands-on."

Natasha's lips curl into a knowing smile. "The Winged Heritage Foundation values the direct involvement of all its key members. You'll find that everyone here, regardless of their public status or their position in our organization, contributes actively to our mission.”

She leads you through more state-of-the-art laboratories and research facilities, each more impressive than the last, before returning to the elevator to bring you surface-level again.

As the elevator ascends, you find your mind racing with questions. The encounter with Stark and Rogers, the glimpses of cutting-edge technology, and the air of mystery surrounding certain areas of the facility have only heightened your curiosity about the true nature of the Winged Heritage Foundation is, showing you so much, but not truly illuminating any answers.  

NEXT PART: LUNCH

Welcome to the Winged Heritage Foundation, lovelies. This is only the beginning... Where will this day take you? And what is going on here?

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[mcdonaldsnumberone]

LOVE ME HARDER!

you swear your favorite color has nothing to do with kaiser. but unluckily for you, the boy’s fallen madly in love with you and has somehow convinced himself that he can connect the dots to make you fall madly in love with him. when you meet his flirting with a tough front though, kaiser has a secret weapon up his sleeve (or under his uniform collar).

gender neutral reader

content warning(s): reader’s favorite color is blue, kaiser’s tattoo isn’t super visible with his uniform in this fic

You loved blue.

You still do. And for the foreseeable future, you weren’t going to ever stop loving the color. It was a color so dear and special to you, and as much as you loved all the other colors, there was something indescribable about the blue hue.

It was everywhere. The color of the sky. The ocean. The small Google Docs icon while you scribbled down notes on your computer. A stray car in the distance while you crossed the road. It was the color of loyalty and knowledge, the cool tones even embodying the mystifying feeling of melancholy. And, if you allowed yourself to get a little pretentious and philosophical, probably the color of the universe. 

What a dignified color. You would never stop loving blue. Not ever. Certainly not now. And you would never extinguish your love of the color because of a man.

But boy, was someone making it difficult.

You always heard him before you saw him: the rumble of footsteps, Ness gushing incoherent praise, the shrill trill of German words hanging in the air. Like an overture before a grand opera, except those thirty seconds were the only prep time you’d get to turn on your heel and book it out of there if you didn’t want to say hello to your biggest headache.

“Oh, daaaarling! There you are! Hey- Don’t run away!”

An outstretched pair of arms materialized on either side of your body, and you let out a loud yelp before you were pulled backwards into a tight hug. You screeched like a feral cat, clawing helplessly at the air while a loud haughty laugh rang out against your eardrums.

It was only when you turned around that the sense of hearing gave out to the sense of sight. Beautiful strands of blond-blue hair swept across your eyes, the twinkle of his golden locks not too unlike the catlike gleam in his pupils. Speaking of his eyes, you hated the stupid bastard for how much blue he had on him and more importantly, how good it looked. Even the smug azure of his crinkled eyes made you stop breathing for just a split second, and your lips parted unconsciously as your hatred momentarily dissipated into wonder at the delicate hue.

“Staring at me? Awwwww, do you think I’m handsome? Of course you do. You wouldn't be so starstruck otherwise,” he chuckled. You instantly snapped out of your stupor, and you twisted your face into a disgusted frown.

“Take your hands off of me, you idiot,” you snarled. “I’m not in the mood to talk to you.”

“Oh? Perfect. I think that’s perfect timing to talk to you.” Kaiser kept one arm slung firmly over your shoulders, expertly placing himself at your side. You dug your heels into the ground and kept your place whenever he tried to edge you closer to his torso, egging you to relax into his touch. “Busy being a little color nerd again? I think it’s adorable that you’d pick your favorite color after me-”

“-I did not pick my favorite color after you,” you huffed. You crossed your arms, and you glared directly up at him (this time, you took extra care not to get lost in his eyes). “Do you really think I don’t have a personality or something? To pick a favorite color after a man?”

He shrugged. “Hey, I’m a pretty charming guy, if I do say so myself. Just now, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of me. I’d say I wear the color well. Say, if I swapped my red eyeliner out for a blue one, would that make you stare at me even more?”

You wanted to push him off, but you knew better than to engage a professional athlete in a half-wrestle-half-run-for-your-life-thing. “In your dreams. You’re an atrocious mix of colors.”

“Sure.” He easily brushed your words off. He broke out into his usual smug grin, chuckling at you as if he were a cat toying with a mouse. If he could, you swore that he’d gobble you up in one bite and leave no crumbs. “But I’d say blue is totally my color.”

Red hot annoyance flooded your body. This was so unlike you, to be moved to such anger that you’d be thinking of any color other than your favorite cyan hue, but something about this man made you want to beat him to a bloody pulp until he truly was nothing more than a mix of crimson and black and white broken bones. 

“Blue is MY color!” You grumbled. “I liked it even before I met you! Hell, I probably understand it better than you do! Dipping your hair in Kool-Aid and being born with blue eyes doesn’t automatically make blue your color! It’s my favorite color, and me liking it has nothing to do with you! Not everything revolves around you, Kaiser!”

You fumed at him, having blurted out all of the tension mounting inside of your chest. You stood there, wanting to claw off the weight of his arm across your shoulders. You wondered if Kaiser would yell back at you, if those beautiful sapphire eyes of his would narrow into small slits before he’d wind up for the pounce, if he truly would swallow you up into a void of blue nothingness just to prove you wrong.

But instead he threw his head back, and he laughed heartily.

“You’re too funny for your own good.” He pretended to wipe a tear from his eye with his other hand, and he barely held himself together long enough to look at you. “The world? Revolve around me? Maybe to all those other stupid commoners. Those brainless fools need a stunning star to guide them. To give them any purpose in life.”

You grimaced, skin crawling with disdain as he yanked you closer. His free hand caressed the outline of your cheeks and jaw, and you let out a small “eep!” as he hooked his fingers under your chin to gingerly lift your face to meet his. You held your breath as the German prodigy leaned in, until the silhouette of his peach-pink lips were much too close to your mouth for your liking.

“But, darling… Oh, my sweet, stupid darling…” His voice was far too smooth for your own liking. Like the lining of a regal blue mink-fur lined cape, the kind you’d see in a 1700s painting of a king, the edge you get from swallowing down a mouthful of ice water. He looked too pleased with himself, having you ensnared perfectly in his arms like this. The thick tension that hung between the two of you felt like poisoned honey, and he shook his head at you mockingly. “If anyone were to pay attention closely, they’d know that the script is much more different for you than it is for those everyday fools.”

“Don’t lump me in your weird fantasy.” You blinked at him defiantly. He pursed his lips slightly, but Kaiser didn’t waver even once. 

“All I want to say is that there’s nothing wrong in admiring beautiful things. If you like blue that much, nothing wrong with admiring the blue on me, is there? It’s unhealthy to deny yourself the things that you love so much.” He let you go finally, and you practically leapt out away from him. “If you don’t want to throw yourself at my feet and beg to play the role of my dedicated love interest, that’s fine too! Although, I don’t see why you wouldn’t want to. Anyone would be honored to have my attention the way you do.”

“You’re a self-centered prick. I don’t want to give you any more attention than what I’m already wasting on you.”

“That’s what I’m saying! If you let down your high walls and properly let yourself admire me for the beautiful, charming, handsome guy I am, then it wouldn’t be a waste of your time.” He expertly flicked his hair over his shoulder, winking at you as some of the strands tumbled down his collarbones and back. As atrocious of a haircut as it was, you did have to admit that the color of his weird gradient was very pleasing to your eyes.

But you’d rather eat knives than admit it out loud. 

“You’ll have to try harder than that. Anyone can dye hair,” you muttered, thoroughly unconvinced. “And before you ask, I’m not interested in staring at your eyes either. Blue eyes mean nothing to me. And I can always go buy color contacts off the internet and stare at those instead if I really want to.”

“Boo! That’s so boring! Wouldn’t you want a real living person? Someone with personality?” He pouted.

You rolled your own eyes. “Yeah. Someone that doesn’t have a stick stuck up their ass.”

Kaiser pressed his lips into a line, suddenly lost in heavy thought. He knew your patience was already running thin with him, and while it was frustrating that the typical antics he’d lavish onto his fans wasn’t netting him the reaction he wanted from you, it still thrilled him the same. You were so tough to crack! He knew deep down that you had some heart for him and that you loved admiring beautiful things! And was he not the most beautiful thing of them all? He was skilled, talented, the kind of guy anyone should be flattered to have. All he needed was to convince you with something unique, something that no other groupie or fan of his couldn’t have, and maybe that would be the key to luring you over.

To turn that burning red hatred of yours into a calm, placated blue interest.

“Well, what if I give you something truly special then? If I could show you something that you have to admit is beautiful, would you admire me then?” He offered tentatively. You sniffed, keeping your head held high, but he took your silence to mean that it wasn’t a complete refusal.

He broke out into the biggest grin you had ever seen. Your confidence wavered slightly at his smug smirk, and nervousness prickled over your skin. You held your breath as Kaiser slowly raised his hand to his neck. Two fingers hooked onto the golden collar of his Bastard Munchen uniform, which covered a generous portion of his neck.

He yanked down. 

A flash of deep, royal blue stunned your vision, and your eyes instinctively widened. Kaiser tilted his neck to the opposite side, making sure you could catch a proper glimpse at the part of his throat that was normally concealed by his uniform. You felt like something inside of your brain had violently hit the brakes the moment the color hit your eyes. 

Roses.

Beautiful, beautiful blue roses. 

You’re automatically entranced by them. They’re tattoos, each expertly painted on his skin with a careful hand. The black outline makes the rich hues pop even more against his body, and while you tiptoe forward to catch a better view, you can only make out the better part of one of the bigger roses. The rest are covered by his uniform, and you can see the hint of inked thorns traveling away from the flowers and towards his arm. 

Kaiser instantly caught the shift in energy from you. He wisely kept his mouth shut, but some prideful part of him was celebrating inwardly. He let you step closer to admire the handiwork on his body, your curiosity delighting him to no ends.

You wanted to touch them. To touch him. Oh, you could imagine the feeling of soft rose petals under your fingertips while you were utterly mesmerized by his tattoo, almost forgetting that it was just an inked drawing rather than real flowers.

“Well? Isn’t it lovely?” 

You flinched, snapping back to life. Dumbfounded, you were at a loss for words. It was completely unlike you to not have some kind of mean comeback to snark at him with, but the secret weapon Kaiser had on hand was too much. His tattoo had overwhelmed you in a heartbeat, the artistic touch only making you want to see it again.

But unfortunately for you, he adjusted his uniform back into its regular position with a cruel smile. “See? I knew you’d like it. Do you want to look at it again? Oh, I know you do. C’mon, tell me. Tell me you want to see it again. It’s not like I’m going to refuse.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, and very hesitantly, you swallowed back your pride. “Can… Can I see your tattoo again?”

“With pleasure, darling.” He cooed. He paused for a moment, and he pulled you closer towards him. You gulped nervously when he peered down at you, clearly savoring the victory he had earned by pulling wool (or in this case, a lovely tattoo) over your eyes. 

“But why don’t I take you to my room instead? I’ll take off my shirt for you. That way you can see the entire thing. And then you can fawn over me properly. You just said you wanted to see my tattoo again. Those pretty roses,” he leaned in, tempting you over and over with the fleeting memory, “Those pretty, pretty roses that are in your absolute favorite color.”

You were torn, and Kaiser reveled in that tormented expression of yours.

He held his hand out. “No need to be shy. Let me show you all sorts of beautiful blue things, my darling.”

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