#Blue/Red LED Display Watch

[arpicityandneed]

The King's Man

18+ f!reader. King!Bucky. Head Knight!Steve. dirty talk. bi!Bucky. bi!Steve. sequel to You, Me, and the King. Sir kink. switch!Steve. switch!Bucky.

You'd received word from your maid that the King and his Knight were waiting for you in the King's chambers but still, you didn't expect to walk in on this when you passed the royal guard on the way in.

Steve was fucking your husbands throat like he'd done so countless of times before. His sword was resting on the table and he was shirtless, his creamy flushed skin on display as he threw his head back- and expression of rapt pleasure on his handsome features as he found his release. James' lashes were wet as he swallowed every drop, but he was looking up at his Steven with such adoration you almost wanted to be jealous.

Only when the door clicked behind you did Steve acknowledge you. James finally let Steve's shaft go, nuzzling the vee of his hip and catching his breath.

"I won a wager." Steve explained with a grin, "He thought I wouldn't be able to wait until the physician's officially declared the pregnancy."

"But you did.. so this was your reward?" You murmured, your mouth dry and your cunt throbbing. Your heart pounded in your chest realizing you'd finally have them both the way you wanted for months now. What was once a strange kingdom full of enemies was made bearable by the love you'd found in your two men.

"No, the reward was you. I'm just helping him last long enough to thoroughly enjoy his reward." Your husband's voice was hoarse, but as he stood you saw just how much he'd enjoyed being used by Steve. His breeches did little to hide the large bulge of his arousal.

"Come here my sweet," Steve held his hand out for you, and you took it shyly but stepped into his space without fear. "I'll take good care of you, I promise." He murmured as he lifted your hand to his lips kissing your knuckles gently.

"I know." And you did, you trusted him with your life, and to finally be able to see him in all his glory was a treat in and of itself. His cock was thick even when soft and his body was covered in scars and marks of battle that made him all the more attractive to you.

James came to stand behind you, trapping you between them as he kissed your shoulder. You shivered remembering vividly how wide they'd been stretched over Steve's cock.

"My wife." James worked at untying the laces of your dress, Steve's possessive gaze keeping you locked in place.

When the dress fell down your body James sighed at your beauty before stepping back. That’s when you noticed the chair placed in direct viewing of the bed. A shiver went down your spine as you realized your King would be watching everything.

“Pants off James, I want to see you too.” Steve commanded with an ease that made your knees buckle, and your King obeyed with a pretty flush on his cheeks. You wanted to devour him and the new shyness you saw in his eyes.

“He’s so pretty..” the words slipped out before you could help it and Steve laughed, warm and rich. Your husband however didn’t say a word. He looked to Steve instead for guidance.

“James, what do you say?” Steve wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you closer, his naked body all hard lines and raw strength that made you melt against him.

“Thank you, love. You two—you’re beautiful together.” His voice was hushed and awed.

“Sit.” Steve murmured as he trailed his lips over your neck, his blue eyes clashing with James’ grey ones. When James obeyed, sitting with his thighs spread showing off just how eager he was, Steve smiled against your skin. “Good boy.”  James’ cock was leaking and flushed an angry red. But he made no move to touch himself without Steve’s permission.

“Now, I think I’ve waited long enough for this.” Steve led you to the bed and urged you to lay down, drinking in the sight of you bared for him with hungry eyes. “Let’s see if you’re ready for me, my queen.” Steve’s hand trailed up your thigh slow and possessive and you squeaked. Instantly he stopped and returned his gaze to yours.

“Just—just, y/n.” You mumbled shyly as you reached out to cup his jaw, not wanting to be anything but his lover in this moment.

“Y/n then.” Steve’s voice was thick with emotion as he kissed your palm. His hand resumed its path until he could cup your sex, his fingers growing slick as he played with your clit and fed one thick finger into you. You moaned softly and spread your thighs wider, eager and aching for your Knight.

“Not quite, think you need to give me one orgasm first.” Steve mused to himself as he lowered his mouth, hovering over where you needed him most. “Missed tasting you.”

“You spent two hours with her sitting on your face yesterday.” James snorted, unable to help himself as Steve glared at his King over his shoulder.

“Let’s say no cumming for a day since you want to be smart mouthed.” Steve smiled as James immediately flushed bright red and mumbled,

“Sorry, Sir.”

You whined for attention, squirming under Steve’s hold. “Shh, love. I’ve got you. I shouldn’t make you wait anymore should I?” Steve murmured gently with a crooked smile before latching onto your clit with single minded focus.

His fingers made a come hither motion, practiced and easy as he worked your body. It took everything you had not to scream—he always touched you just right.

“Jesus, James, she still tastes like you.” James made a strangled sound but wisely kept quiet, stretching you further and pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

All it took was one hard suck and you were flying, a million pieces of stardust as he groaned into your folds. You soaked his chin and fingers shamelessly. By the time you were back to the land of the living he was over you, gliding his cock through your slick folds and lubing up his shaft in your juices. Just tasting you was enough to make his cock hard as steel once more.

“You’re going to scream for me, and I don’t give a fuck who hears. Do you understand?” Steve was usually a gentle man, soft spoken with you and always so considerate. But the Steve on top of you was a barely contained animal. Wild eyed with a will strong enough to subdue even your King.

“Yes, Sir.” You knew it was the right answer when his pupils dilated, and he lined up his cock against your entrance that clenched around nothing—aching more than anything to be filled.

“That’s a good girl.” He kissed you as he pushed in, inch by inch. Steve’s shaft was thicker than your husbands and you cried out your legs wrapping around his waist as you pulled him deeper into you.

Greedy, that’s how Steve’s cock made you feel as it split you open.

“Fuck, James, you shouldn’t have let me have her.” Steve growled, his girth safely tucked inside your gummy walls so deep he could feel his cock when he pressed his hand into the softness of your belly. “I’m never going to get enough of her.” You were whimpering at every word. Just a prize to be passed back and forth between the only two men worthy of you, the thought made you clench down on Steve’s cock even tighter.

“You can speak, James.” Steve’s smug voice, his cock throbbing inside you as the leaking tip pressed a loving wet kiss to your cervix, it was all too much and he’d barely started moving yet.

“Can—" you’d never heard your husband’s voice so wrecked. “Can I come closer, Sir? I want to see.”

“You may. Hold her hand like a good little husband.” Steve ordered and within a few seconds you felt a warm hand slip into yours, James’ gaze heavy as a touch as he stared where you and Steve were joined.

“She’s barely able to take you.” Why did he sound so pleased? Why wasn’t Steve fucking you yet?

“Shh, pretty thing. I got you.” Steve cooed at you, cupping your breast in one hand and pinching your nipple lightly—groaning when it made your pussy flutter around his cock hungrily. “Just making sure there’s no pain.”

“None, promise, promise, just please!” You begged shamelessly, having waiting as long as he had to feel him.

“Please what?” That’s when you realized the game, he wanted you to say it. Scream your intentions like you had with your husband.

“I want you to fuck me!” You cried, tears gathering on your lashes in frustration.

“Not your husband?” Steve taunted as he gave your breast a squeeze.

You shook your head frantically, your bottom lip jutting out as you looked up at Steve. “Want you now,” you admitted honestly. James’ hands tightened in yours but he didn’t need to say a word as his cock leaked. “Waited, I was good, so good, want your cock Sir, please.”

“Good girl, my good girl.” Steve groaned and started fucking you slow and filthy, rolling his hips and staying mostly buried inside you as his fat cock hit every pleasurable spot with ease.

“You’re doing so good sweetheart, taking his cock isn’t easy.” You moaned at your husbands words, realizing exactly what he’d meant. He’d taken Steve’s cock before. But you couldn’t focus on anything other than Steve’s controlled thrusts. You knew he was holding back but it was already so much, your pussy gushing on his cock and making each thrust a little easier.

“More!” You begged, barely able to keep your eyes open as you tightened your legs around his waist. Steve grinned, feral and sharp.

“As you wish.”

Then all coherent thought was lost, Steve starting to fuck you in earnest until he was splitting you in two ruthlessly. James never let go of your hand and you were drowning in the pleasure you were given.

Steve’s cock squelched through your juices, your arousal coating his heavy balls as he fucked you hard and deep. He was a hurricane and all you could do was hold on for the ride. You free arm was thrown around his neck holding him close as you screamed out,

“Sir! Please, please, more!” You couldn’t stop yourself. Every thrust of his cock was melting your brain, and James’ encouraging words in your ear was only fanning the flames.

“You can take it can’t you my love? So good for us, you’ll have his baby next won’t you? I want to see it, our children playing together. Just gotta do what you did for me. Take all his cum right in your pretty little pussy again and again.” James was rambling, aching to touch his cock but too obedient to disobey Steve’s order not to cum.

“Fuck,” Steve was lost in your pussy. Couldn’t look away from your pussy sucking him in, like you couldn’t wait to milk him for his load.

“Want his babies, need it!” You squealed as Steve shifted the angle of his hips, hitting that perfect spot that made you see stars. If you’d been coherent you’d be able to see the toothy grin on Steve’s face.

“That’s it, make all your prettiest noises for me y/n. Feel so fucking tight love,” Steve groaned as he got close, his balls slapping against your ass with every thrust aching to fill you up. His thumb found your clit with practiced ease and with quick tight circles you were thrown off the edge without warning.

“’m not pulling out. You’re gonna take what I give you, when I want to give it.” It wasn’t a question and yet you nodded immediately, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you squirted, your arousal splashing out of you—Steve fucking you through your orgasm without mercy.

Only when he started to cum did he slow down, grinding in every spurt of seed into your pussy like he could force your body to accept his seed into your womb.

“Beautiful.” James murmured as he kissed your forehead, squeezing your hand and checking over your face. You were drifting—so safe and full of light you felt like you were floating.

Steve had to gently pry your legs off his waist before he could slowly separate himself from you, his copious amount of cum leaking out of your gaping hole in a lewd display that made Steve wish he had the stamina to fuck you again immediately.

“She’s still feeling it,” James murmured above your head as he looked to Steve, and if you strained you could focus on Steve’s reply.

“That’s alright, let her rest.” Steve whispered back, his thick fingers spreading your pussy lips wide so he could stare directly at your hole as it gushed and twitched.

But then he turned to his friend and grinned.

“Would you like sloppy seconds, my King?”

[republicsecurity]

Control Collar Deployment Protocol (Level 1 Enforcer)

0. Before Deployment

Before any Deployment verify SOP 11‑C clearance granted, it's usually granted but rare exceptions apply.

Check your suit’s holster for a sealed control‑collar case, should be part of standard suit check routine.

1. Assess & Approach

Position yourself one step behind and to the subject’s side.

Maintain eye contact; observe posture, hands, and escape routes.

2. Draw Collar

Pull the case latch on your armor suit.

Remove the control collar (folded, LEDs dark) and hold it ready at waist level.

3. Positioning the Collar

Expand the collar’s segmented hinge fully—ensure no obstruction.

Grip the outer shell firmly; LEDs is green.

4. Placement

Slide the open collar upward, keeping it just below the subject’s jawline.

Align the opening at the nape of the neck for fastest wrap‑around.

5. Gentle Seating

Push the collar closed onto the neck until the segments rest flush against skin. Closure mechanism can be felt.

6. Lock‑In Sequence

With gloved thumb, press the silver magnetic‑clamp button once. Collar only reacts to Enforcer Armor or ceremonial gloves. Activation with bare hand is not possible.

Watch for two-tone “click” and twin light flares—confirmation of full engagement.

7. Verify Engagement

Tug lightly on the outer shell; the collar must not shift.

HUD Sync come on. “Collar MK IV and its Serialnumber” is highlighted in your Heads‑Up Display.

Standard mode is Solid Red → Stun‑Hold. Collared subject can not move or yell. You can turn towards Solid Blue → Compliance Mode. Collar induces certain movement, eg, walking in direction given by the controlling suit.

8. Subject Monitoring

Read bio‑feedback metrics (heart rate, muscle tension, warnings) on HUD.

For Compliance Mode one Enforcer can monitor and control three subjects for their safety and wellbeing.

All Control Collar Actions are monitored and logged.

[sl-ut]

streamer!ellie hcs

been thinking about gamer!ellie williams x fem!reader a little too much lately so here are some random ass hcs

part two | part three

she's a pretty big streamer on twitch, plays a lot of different games but she particularly likes rpgs bc she thinks they're the most fun kinds of streams to watch

she plays gta online (on nopixel ofc) A LOT

her rp character is definitely like a druglord or something lol

speaking of, total stoner

she usually smokes right before her streams to help her settle down (she gets kinda nervous before her streams)

she's up front about her drug use (just weed don't worry) w her fans, but definitely doesn't wanna smoke on stream bc she knows there are younger viewers watching

she streams at night, probably around 8:30-9pm AT THE EARLIEST

has a boss set up. she has an extra room in her apartment for streaming, has lots of fun little figurines and posters of her fav games/movies/artists, led lights (always set to either blue or red), and custom display, keyboard, and headset

off-topic, but she'd also an astrophysics major and is on the DEANS LIST??? our girl is so casually smart and doesn't even try that hard like

she's such a nerd, always been a big star wars, harry potter, and lotr fan since she was a kid

she casually drops the gf bomb on stream one day and the internet just about blows up

lesbian twitter died a little that day

she's kinda secretive about it tho, didn't even really mean to mention her gf (she hadn't even asked her to be her gf yet and she already publicly announced that she was off the market)

for plot purposes, i've always really liked the idea that y/n is also a public figure? maybe she's a small actor/singer or an influencer or something

y/n texted her during the stream saying "u got something u wanna ask me???"

ellie was trying so hard to not turn red and end the stream

a few days later, everyone's fav lowkey singer/actor/influencer happens to soft launch her new gf (everyone was a little sus but no one really assumed that it was ellie bc why would it be??? they've literally never interacted on the internet before?)

except what they don't know is that ellie had been really high one night and decided to shoot her shot, sending a risky dm on insta and almost pissing herself when she saw that she had actually responded

begins talking about the relationship more on stream

doesn't reveal who her gf is for a while tho, but when she gets a text from y/n asking for her help for a sec she'll just tell her chat that she'll be back bc she needs to "go help the missus"

such a loser fr

finally hard launches on y/n's bday, posting a photodump from the past few months that they've been together

lesbian twitter died again

two of the hottest internet gays off the market? oh no

but everyone really loves it

ellie likes when she brings her snacks or a drink during the stream, inviting her to sit on her lap and chat for a bit while they're waiting to join a server or something

she bought an additional gaming laptop so y/n could stream with her sometimes

ellie does random super loser stuff when this happens, like if they're playing gta she's taking her on a long car ride around the city bc she's roleplaying as y/n's sugar daddy

loves using her platform to hype up her gf's work

always reposting new songs or casting announcements that her gf is involved in, and loves being her date to big press events

omg i might have to make a little modern!ellie fic bc i love this smmmm

[sethcertified]

「 SEVEN PLAYER GAME ! 」 . . . 📂

twelve. smau + written

⊹˚.⋆ starring . . . heeseung x male reader smau!

⊹˚.⋆ synopsis . . . A member of the prominent youtube group “ENHYPEN” accidentally donates a significant amount of money to a very well-known gaming creator sparking rumors and forced collaborations by their managements.

The rumors were true. Ni-ki’s parties were truly one of a kind.

The alcohol buzzed in your mouth as you sipped on the solo red cup in your grasp. Your nose scrunched a little as you swallowed the liquid down. Alcohol was never your forte. Yet here you were. The music boomed loudly in your ears, forming a headache. The energy was suffocating. How couldn’t it be though? This was a Ni-ki party— infamous in their intensity.

The lights were dim and multicolored, LEDs being the only lights in the house. Seductive reds, chaotic greens, and dreamy blues had turned the house into a club. That, along with the alcohol supplied. When you had entered the kitchen earlier on in the night, pushing past the flirting couples and the drink hoggers, there had been a large arrangement of jellow shots, bottles you couldn’t even name, and more red solo cups than you could count.

Everyone was caught up in the revelry, but your mind had been elsewhere for a while. You had done your cameo for Ni-ki’s vlog maybe 30 minutes ago, so you had taken it upon yourself to sit down on the couch and people watch. People you’ve only heard of through various social media platforms littered around the living room playing various drinking games, socializing, etc. However, none of them were of your concern. Only one person was, and he wasn’t even there.

Sipping on your drink once more, your eyes scanned the room for Heeseung. He was supposed to be here, yet he had been absent since the party started. You pushed yourself off the couch with annoyance. You did your cameo, and now you just wanted to hang out with a familiar face who wasn’t the star of the party— surrounded by people. Where was Heeseung?

Going up the stairs of the familiar house, you went to his door. Turning the doorknob, your entrance was rejected. The room was locked. Your fist pounded on the door as you yelled out, “Hee! Let me in!” An annoyed look was displayed upon your face, ready to get away from the scene downstairs.

Thankfully, the door was quick to open, and you smiled at the boy before you. His doe eyes were wide as you pushed past him, sitting upon his bed. It was comfy, and you let out a sigh of relief as you relaxed into the plush blanket laid out on-top of his comforter. “Y/N?” Hee asked as he shut the door. He locked it once more before crossing to sit with you. His eyes traced your appearance, catching sight of the cup in your hand, “Why aren’t you downstairs?” Heeseung smiled cheekily as he said this. He nodded his gaze down to your drink, obviously sensing you were just partying moments prior.

You sipped on your cup teasingly, a smile spread across your lips as you faced him, before replying with a shrug and a plain, “Too much for me. Plus, I wanted to see a familiar face that wasn’t flocked by more people than I can count.” Heeseung chuckled, his nose scrunching cutely, “Fair.”

You bumped your shoulder against his, “You? I was looking for you, you know.”

Heeseung coughed a little in shock. You were looking for him? He couldn’t help the giddy smile that spread across his face before looking away from you towards his gaming set up. “I’m on Fontaine.. I got a little too absorbed.” He said embarrassed, but the way your eyes lit up gave away how his answer seemed to please you. You jumped up and headed to his computer, seeing a shot of Furina speaking to the Traveler.

“It’s the best written region, so I don’t blame you.” You said as you leaned against his chair facing him, now turned away from the computer screen. You had a wide smile, and Heeseung stared at you with a glazed look in his gaze. Just like your streams, there you were smiling so delightfully over this game. Yet you weren’t a computer screen away, and Heeseung wasn’t hidden behind a username. He was here. In front of you. And you didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, you came to him. Him. Heeseung. Not even y/nsupremacy ever got this pleasure.

Heeseung had followed in your steps as he nodded, and stood in front of you. His eyes traced your face before flickering from your lips to your eyes. Your hair was styled nicely, sticking to your aesthetic but fitting the vibe of the party. It looked so soft. Heeseung couldn’t help the way he leaned in further towards you, almost wanting to plant himself close enough to feel it. Then his eyes drifted, you had two nice necklaces framing your neck. God, was your neck pretty. And your outfit? He always had admired your style, and it was true you always dressed well. Especially now. As his eyes lingered, he spoke softly, “Mhm… You look nice, by the way.”

“Thanks, I probably smell like booze and sweat though. Ruins the whole thing, huh?” You joked, still not the most responsive to his flirtations. It still felt awkward for you, knowing your history, but Heeseung only knew the tip of the iceberg. Since he clearly didn’t remember, you remarked in your head bitterly. Despite, trying to brush it off, it still hurt thinking about the past. You sighed as you glanced from the floor back up to Heeseung. His gaze was scarily intense, and his brows creased in frustration. Noticing you making eye contact with him, Heeseung shook his head as he leaned in, towering over you with an odd expression. “Not at all. Never.”

Your mouth opened to respond, yet nothing came out. Heeseung was usually rather.. awkward or even shy around you. Which made sense. How could he act suave when you very clearly didn’t like him in the slightest? Yet things had changed over the past couple of weeks. You seemed to tolerate him, at bare minimum. Enjoy his presence even. I mean, who calls every night, plays each other’s favorite video games, and stares at each other like that if they didn’t? So maybe that’s why he was behaving like this.

He fixated on you as he waited for you to say… well, anything. Your eyes, you hair, you. Anything to give away whatever was going on inside that head of yours. He frowned a little. Why were you so unresponsive all the time? It frustrated him. The progress gained from you hating him to those small moments between you two where you seem to return even an inkling of his feelings surely meant something, so why were you still keeping him at a distance? What were you hiding? What had you been hiding? Why didn’t you like him?

He closed his eyes as he thought. You came up to his room for a reason, right? The way you’re looking at him has to mean something. Surely, you don’t hate him anymore? Maybe he isn’t delusional. Maybe you wanted this even a little bit. Maybe this isn’t just for clout cause he made that stupid, stupid comment. His eyes flickered back to your lips before licking his own, testing something, “What would you do if I kissed you right now?”

“You— what??” You say shocked as you stumble back a little, yet your back hits against his gaming chair. Your chest heaved slightly as you processed his sudden words. “You’re gonna what?”

“Kiss you.” He said firmly.

“I.. well. I would—“ You paused as you stared back at him with wide eyes. Why was he asking that? You looked off to side before dragging your gaze to his shoes. Quietly, you whispered, “I guess, I would kiss you back.”

Heeseung’s brows furrowed slightly before he leaned down to brush his nose against yours. Not how he expected you to answer. He expected a dumb joke, a diversion, yet you answered him. “Promise?”

Despite the air catching in your lungs, you nodded as your eyes flickered to meet his lips, barely touching yours. “Promise.”

Heeseung smirked a little before sliding his lips against yours before a soft smile spread across his face, his teeth clashing against the soft surface of your lips. He hummed as his dreams came true. Months of fantasizing of feeling your lips finally coming true. The kiss, tentative and hesitant, a soft brush of your lips upon each other, ignited those feelings boxed away. Your hands grasped onto Heeseung’s broad shoulders as you couldn’t help the tears that spilt from your lips. They fell into the kiss, turning the sweet softness of it salty. Heeseung hummed as he tasted your tears, peaking his tongue out against the plush feel of your bottom lip. His eyes fluttered open as his hands caressed your face, “Why are you crying? Did you not like it? Did you not wanting to kiss me? Fuck, y/n.”

More streams poured from your eyes, but you smiled that charming, lopsided grin that made Heeseung’s knees weak. You moved your hands from his shoulders to wipe away your tears embarrassed— just like the first time you had kissed him. He still didn’t remember. Maybe you thought that sense of Deja Vu would hit. Heeseung’s hand, large and warm and cradling your cheek moved up and met yours. He cupped the hand that you had used to wipe your tears before kissing your cheek. “Why are you crying?” He asked again, softly. Begging, almost.

“You don’t remember,” you replied, “I do. I still do, and I always have. I can’t forget it. Even though it was so insanely long ago. I can’t. Yet you can.”

Heeseung held your hand tighter, “What? What did I do? Tell me, please.”

You laughed before glancing up, into those eyes that had taunted you for years. “Middle school, there was that party. You didn’t know me. I was the weird emo kid who played FNAF in the back? Ring a bell?”

Heeseung’s eyes went wide, “I do remember.” His eyes scanned your face, seeking the resemblance. It was your sister’s party. His older brother had been invited, but their parents were out of town, so he dragged Hee along. Heeseung hated it. All these kids he didn’t know, the smell, the noise. He just wanted to go him and play on his computer.

“I.. I had walked into that random room with the FNAF poster, and there you were.” He said breathlessly, “You were watching some anime, and I was so nervous. Yet you patted that spot next to you, and we sat and binged the whole series for like two hours!”

You nodded, “And?”

“And.. and,” he murmured as the pieces clicked in his head. “Our hands touched.”

“Yup, and you looked down, yelled I had cooties and ran away,” you remarked with a bitter laugh. “Then before I even knew it, I was the kid with gay cooties who no one wanted to be friends with in school.”

Heeseung gulped nervously, “I can’t believe I forgot that was you.” His eyes now looked sad and more doe-like than ever. That was you. Weird gay, FNAF kid was you.

You bit your lip before continuing, “I know you weren’t the ones spreading the rumors. I know you probably only told your bother or your friends, but they ended up spreading it. I was bullied relentlessly. It was awful. I ended up moving schools.” You sighed. “And it got worse. I.. I tried apologizing to you for fuck sakes! Remember that?”

Heeseung’s eyes almost popped out of his head. Behind the school. You stood shaking like a little lost puppy, playing with your sweater sleeves as you whimpered out that apology. He didn’t know his friends were there. He didn’t know that they had followed you. Yet they did, and that’s when they snuck on you two. Pushed you. Into Heeseung. And you two had kissed.

“You kissed me.” He said softly as his thumb rubbed your hand comfortingly. It was awful. Your lips were chapped. And the audience was no help. The little boys laughed as you pushed yourself off of Heeseung, and ran away crying. God, it was humiliating.

“Glad you remember now,” you remarked with an awkward chuckle. “Had to retell you my middle school nightmare for you to.”

Heeseung faltered, “So that’s why you hated me.” His brain was wrapping around the information, taking it in word after word.

“After first,” you started, “I didn’t blame you directly, but it was hard. I thought we could’ve been friends. And even though I knew it probably wasn’t you spreading those rumors, I was still wandering about it. That you made everyone hate me even more just cause I accidentally held your hand. I had no friends before then, and it just got worse after that. It’s why I started streaming in the first place— I just wanted friends. Luckily, it worked out after a couple years. Plus, I meet Lix and Chan.”

Heeseung nodded, “And I didn’t even recognize you.” He laughed in disbelief. How didn’t he recognize you? Yeah, you had moved schools, but he never even noticed.

“So when you hit on me about a year ago… I was pissed. I couldn’t help the resentment towards you that had built up. I thought you were doing it on purpose. To humiliate me all over again.” You told him honestly, ignoring the heavy feeling in your heart.

Heeseung immediately shook his head wildly, “No! No! Not at all! I thought you were so cool and beautiful and awesome and—“ Your hand cupped his mouth as you smiled up at him softly, “I know.”

“Now,” you finished with a little eye roll, “Not then. That’s why I avoided you. Hated you, even.”

“Cause of those rumors,” he said understandingly.

“And,” you said awkwardly, “You were kind of my gay awakening. That night in my room? I held your hand on purpose, and it backfired. Then that kiss? I liked it!”

“What?” Heeseung said with a boisterous laugh. “You were my gay awakening. When I found your streams? You changed my brain chemistry. Girls, girls, girls to just you.”

“So, I guess we’re even,” you said awkwardly. The conversation was bound to happen, yet you still hated it. Hated having to admit everything behind why you acted that way you did towards him. Heeseung nodded before he took his hand from your face, and moving it away. Then he hugged you. Strong, comfortingly. He hugged you. “I’m sorry.”

“I know. I’ve known that for a while.” You say teasingly. “I forgave you before I even knew I forgave you.”

Heeseung quirked his brows as he smiled, “What does that mean?”

“I think I always kinda held feelings for you even in my little ‘I hate Heeseung’ era.” You say embarrassed as you lean your forehead into Heeseung’s chest. “Chan and Felix called it.”

“Then you’re right— we’re even,” he said softly as he pressed a kiss to the center of your head. “Cause I’ve had feelings for you even when I felt like you hated me, and I never had a chance.”

“You had a chance,” you snickered. “Obviously, I let you kiss me.”

Heeseung rolled his eyes before tickling your sides, forcing you to burst out of his grasp in a fit of giggles. After pausing his touch against your sides, he ran his fingers through his hair, pushing his bangs back away from his forehead. “You did not make it obvious!”

“That’s cause you didn’t see my private Twitter!” You exclaimed with a joyous laugh. “Felix and Chan were dogging on me for them!”

Heeseung wrapped his arms back around you, “I’ll have to ask them about it sometime then.”

You huffed before letting yourself melt into his hold. It felt nice. Nice to admit your feelings. Nice to bury the past. Nice to be here. To be his.

“Does this mean I can hard launch us?” You said mischievously.

“Yeah.” Heeseung laughed before kissing you once again. With a joy that surged from his body to yours. You smiled harder than ever before backing away, “And I’ll let you meet my cats.”

“Yes!”

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[m1rotics]

under his thumb

wooyoung x reader

word count: 2k

Thinking about intoxication play with wooyoung... He spends the whole night refilling your cup, simple mixed drinks that weren't too strong turn into drinks strong every sip making your skin warm and your thoughts less coherent than before.

"here."

you don't even get out a reply as wooyoung shoves the drink in your hand. He's been doing it all night, pouring your drinks for you and stuffing them into your hands before you can think about it. If you could collect your thoughts, and truly think about his actions, you might've questioned them (you wouldn't have, everything wooyoung does is funner when you know nothing) There's a gentle buzzing in your ears, a steady thrum in your chest from the bass of the music, the blue led light makes it impossible to focus. You take a swig anyways, wooyoung watches you with a delighted grin.

It goes down smooth, burns like a bitch, but you're too caught up in wooyoung's gaze to care. His eyes are dark, mean— predatory, almost. Like he wants to chew you up and spit you out. A slight chill trickles down your spine. When you put the cup down, he leans in and licks off the excess that spilled on your chin. Slow, deliberate.

He pulls back with a grin.

his hand wraps around your wrist, "lets go sit."

Your eyes immediately fall to the cherry red of his lips, and his smile gets wider, canines now on display. Words die on your tongue, and you settle for a dumb nod. That you're pretty sure makes you look like a bobblehead. Luckily, he doesn't comment on it, opting to turn around and drag you to the living room couch. He weaves through the crowd with practiced ease, barely stopping for anything. You can only be thankful because you can barely keep yourself up.

He settles nicely on the couch, an arm strung over the back of it. His eyes are heavily lidded, tongue poking his cheek, an invitation. You crawl into his lap, leaning back into the firmness of his chest.

"finish your drink, baby,"

his voice is husky, deeper than before, but still holding that edge of playfulness. Though you think you hear a tinge of impatience. With a slow blink, you lift the cup back to your mouth, downing the rest of it. You sink back into him, dazed, suddenly too heavy to keep your head up. His hand rests on your thigh, his thumb languidly stroking your skin, just below the edge of your skirt. It's grounding, in a way, gives you something to latch onto, his touch holding you down in case you float away.

Then, something soft is pressing against the skin of your neck. It takes you a bit to recognize it as Wooyoung lips kissing your neck. Wooyoung nips at the soft skin, his tongue darting out to swipe over it. He kisses his way up the curve of your neck, and he playfully nips your earlobe.

"you okay, pretty girl?" He murmurs, still massaging the fat of your thighs. Your body feels so warm, gooey, like you've been sitting under the sun, your skin is tingling everywhere he touches it.

Your tongue is heavy in your mouth, but you think you manage out a yes because he doesn't pull away. His hands move up to grip your waist, snaking their way up your shirt. You're panting, heart pacing, and he hasn't even done anything.

"you'll put on a show for everyone, won't you, pretty?" He says, and you let out a whine, shifting in his lap and pushing back into his hard-on. His hands make it to your chest, and he kneads them through your bralette. He traces lazy circles over your nipples through the thin fabric. You arch your back, pressing your chest into his hands. It's so much, but not enough. He keeps a slow, steady pace, rolling your now hard nipples under the rough pad of his finger. Occasionally pinching them to feel you jolt and make you whine.

it's not enough, so you try to grind into the hardness that's pressed against your ass. His hands pull away to still your hips, you let out a displeased groan, fussy and impatient.

"Gonna turn you around," he murmurs, and you try to help but your limbs are listening to you anymore, so you end up letting him maneuver you until you're straddling his lap.

"there you go, pretty."

He purrs, honey-slow and sweet, melts over you like butter in a pan. Slippery and warm in your chest, dripping down to pool in your panties. You gasp when he trails a finger over your covered pussy, stopping to lightly stroke your clit.

"you're so wet, are you enjoying this, pretty?" He practically groans, "you like showing everyone how much of a slut you are, that you'd let me do whatever I want to you."

You whimper, pressing harder against his finger desperate for friction, for anything he's willing to give. And just like that he takes it away, your head falls forward, tears building up on your lash line, hot and big. They roll down your cheeks. You sniffle, hiccup, attempting to grind yourself against his hardness again.

"look at me," he says, but his hand is already under your chin, forcing you to make eye contact. He whines, needy, hips bucking into yours at the sight of you. More tears stream down your cheeks, and he moans, breathy. He crashes your mouths together, enveloping you in a hungry kiss. It's urgent and messy, spit beginning to spill down your chin. His mouth tastes like fruit punch and alcohol. Cloying. Addictive. His tongue sweeps over yours, presses into the soft inside of your cheek, drags over your molars. His hands fall to your hips, and you can't help but roll your hips into his.

Fortunately, he doesn't stop you this time. rather, his hips don't stop moving against yours, and the two of you grind together like a well oiled machine. You cant your hips forward to put more pressure on your aching clit, sobbing into his mouth when pleasure rushes through your body like lightning. It brings you an iota of satisfaction, and for a moment, you think that it's enough. You fervently work your hips, humping his clothed boner like a bitch in heat. Wooyoung's moaning in your ear, hushed and filled with need, tells you how beautiful you look. That it feels so good, that you're making him feel so good.

He looks fucked out, and he hasn't even taken his dick out. You'd laugh if you weren't just as desperate. His pupils blown with glassy, heavily lidded eyes. His bottom lip caught between his teeth, and sweat is glistening on his forehead and his chest exposed from his button up. (He doesn't button the first two like a slut.) A little black cross sits in the dip of his chest. You cry out, head falling forward to bury itself in the crook of his neck. He smells like sage and a hint of sweat. it's all encompassing, and it makes your brain woolly. You breathe it in by the lungful, like you can't get enough. Your hips don't stop moving, you can't stop.

You want more, you need more. You need him to give you more.

"wooyoung," you mumble into his skin, but he doesn't respond. You repeat it again, louder, and this time he hums in acknowledgement.

"More," is all you say. your words are slurred, tongue still not cooperating, but you're so pent up. You push through. But he doesn't budge, just squeezes your hips. Fucking tease. "Please, I need more. Can you give me more?"

Wooyoung shudders, another low whine, "say that again."

"wooyoung," you hiccup, "please, do something."

"there you go, ha — fuck, you sound so pretty when you beg, gonna give you want, baby."

He pulls his hips back to fumble with the button of his jeans. His hands are shaky, and it takes a few seconds of fiddling with it until he's finally tugging his fly down, and slipping down the waist band of his boxers. His cock is dripping, the tip shines with pre-cum, and beading at the slit. He's so hard, it's turning a light plum color. Tan and pretty, you would taste him if you weren't focused on getting off. Make him cum in your mouth, or your hand.

You pocket that thought for later.

He takes his cock in hand, and presses it against your pussy. He draws his hips back slowly, letting the tip dip into your cunt but not enough to sink in. The head nudges your clit, and you reach down to push him in, guide him to where you need him. He smacks your hand away with a swiftness. He does it a few more times, coating the underside of his dick in your slick. Your hips tremble and your cunt quivers around nothing, tears cling to your lashes.

It stings when he pushes in. A dull ache over shined by the pure relief. You feel so full, stuffed to the brim, and you let out a content sigh. People might be ogling you, probably have been the entire time. Silently watching, judging. Or maybe they're getting off to the free show. You don't really care, besides you can't tear your eyes away from wooyoung to check. His hands are planted on your hips, keeping you from moving. At first, you think he's waiting for you to get used to the stretch, but once you try to lift yourself up, his hands stay locked in place.

"woo, please," you murmur, pressing wet kisses to the side of his mouth. "Stop teasing."

He giggles, "but you're so cute when you beg."

"I've been so, so good, haven't i? Been the best girl, don't be mean." You mutter between peppering kisses to his cheek and jaw.

He gives a contemplative hum, "you have been very good to me today."

You want to nod, but you settle for sinking your teeth in the sensitive skin. His cock twitches, you can feel it, and you pray it enough to make him fuck you senseless.

And that's exactly what he does, his hands tighten their grip, lifting you up until barely the tip is in and then he's shoving you back down. It knocks the air out of you, leaves you shaking. You fall forward, chest to chest, hands balling up his shirt. He does it again, and again, and again until your eyes roll in the back of your head, breathless "ah ah ah" falling from your lips.

"is this what you wanted? to be fucked dumb?"

When did his voice get so low? You don't know, can barely think, but it rumbles through his chest, through your skin. Thick, sticky, molasses-smooth. Only moans slip past your lips, he takes that as an answer in itself.

His chuckles taper off into a moan.

"I know it is, silly girl. can't even speak, can you?" His words come out breathy, a whiny lilt to it. His own desperation seeping into his sentences. It oozes into his actions, too. Thrusting up into you as best as he can in this position, his fingers digging into your hips, bruising.

"woo, I'm gonna-" you warn.

He cuts you short, "it's okay, pretty girl, I got you. cum for me. Wanna feel it, wanna feel you squeeze my cock."

His fingers find your clit, and he rubs tight circles on the sensitive bud. Pleasure rips through you, arrow through the heart, sliced down the middle. White-hot and celestial. You choke out a sob, wrapping your arms around his neck. You're dizzy, babbling, whimpering in his ear. Wooyoung is no better off, grunting and whining, hips stuttering as he gets closer to orgasm himself.

"c'mon baby, I want you cum on me. You can do that, right? Please, I wanna feel you fall apart on my dick."

His words drag you closer to the edge, and you can feel it. Mind-numbing heat simmering in the pit your stomach. You can't think, so you can only mumble out incomplete sentences. Nonsensical strings of words spewing from your lips as he pushes you closer to climax. You cum with a harsh shudder, burying your teeth in his neck to muffle your moans. You think that's what thrusts him into his own orgasm because he unloads in you after a few more weak humps.

The two you sit there for a while, sweaty and trembling, until you've regained your breath and you're not lightheaded anymore. You lift your head to look at him, and he flashes you a crooked smile, "wanna get out of here?"

You nod faster than you've ever nodded in your life.

[miguelhugger2099]

Him and I (1/2)

Summary: You get thrown into another, another dimension while on a mission with Miguel. You end up meeting Miguel's variant where lingering feelings lie. Next Comic!Miguel x Reader x ATSV!Miguel, SMUT, PWP, Word Count: 6,808 CW: just a smidge of voyeurism

It was rough how you ended up here in another dimension and it wasn’t ideal either. Earlier, you were on a mission with Miguel and doing the usual of tracking and containing anomalies. However, this one was a little rough, giving both you and Miguel a hard time with how slippery it had been.  Arriving at the scene, Miguel quickly barked orders at you to scan the place to track and trace any possible disrupted canon events. While he went one way, you went the other and for a while, neither of you had been able to grab it. Until your watch pinged with a hologram of Miguel’s face calling to tell you he found the anomaly and was leading it towards you for some backup. Putting on your mask, you swung away on your webs to meet him halfway.

One thing led to another and both of you were hollering at each other different plans and strategies since this anomaly was somehow escaping every chance it got. Miguel grabbed on its neck and yanked it back which made it screech and slam him against a brick wall. He grunted and let go from the sheer force of it. The anomaly went head first for you to which you jumped on its back. Eventually, you held onto it and tried to use your watch to open a portal. The anomaly tried ripping you off it, scratching your watch and damaging the touch pad. Whatever number you tried putting in, was jumbled up and yet a portal opened up anyway. Time and space warped around you two, the wormhole trying to suck up anything. The anomaly then grabbed you and ripped you off its back, throwing you into the portal which shut right after you went through. So here you are, in a dimension that isn’t your New York, but it did look like a certain someone’s Nueva York. Tall buildings, hovercrafts and holographic billboards were plastered everywhere. You looked down at your watch and saw claw marks on the touchpad, small sparks of electricity fizzed out but it wasn’t too damaged, you decided. You weren’t glitching so you counted that as a win. You heard a familiar zip of web shooters being used from above. Tilting your head up, you saw the familiar red and mostly blue suit swinging by and ignoring you. You squinted at the figure leaving.

“Miguel…?” You whispered to yourself. Pushing the watch problem aside, you began following him, trying to catch up to him. “Miguel!” You called out through the whipping winds as you gained speed.

His figure thwipped around, seemingly trying to get you off his tail. You grew frustrated. Why was he just avoiding you? If he was here, that means the anomaly had gotten away and it’d be more work for both of you.

He then made a sharp turn around a tall building. You nearly passed it but you stopped yourself just in time to swivel your head around to see where he had gone. Your eyes honed in on his figure crawling up the side of the building and into an open window. With determination, you shot your web to the building and began crawling up. Once you made it to the damn near very top, you opened the window and crawled in. With your feet now planted on the floor, you took off your mask and looked around. It was a bedroom and a large one at that with a giant king sized bed and a giant set up where you assumed would display a holographic screen. You noted it was dark too with all the lights switched off and Miguel was nowhere to be seen. You were sure you saw him crawl in this room. You began walking around the room just to make sure, trying to find anything. When you didn’t–the lack of pictures was appalling– you made your way over to the bedroom door and took a peek outside of it. The hallways were just as dark, if not darker. You took a step out and squinted your eyes, hoping your vision would adjust to the lighting.

You heard a shift far in front of you and paused in your steps. You tried focusing on whatever was in front of you and that’s when you saw red eyes. You froze and held your breath while the eyes simply watched you, slightly moving as it seemingly saw you through the dark.

These eyes were familiar to you and so you dropped your guard. “Miguel…?” You called out again. “What the hell? I was right behind you! Did the anomaly throw you in here too?”

You tried approaching him but then backed up when he came closer as well, at a faster rate than you thought. Your gasped and your spider senses went haywire. With a bit of difficulty on your end, you looked up to see someone who wasn’t Miguel. Or you thought.

The man had Miguel’s scarlet orbs, but instead of brown hair he had dark red hair to match his eyes. Instead of brown skin, he had white skin. He had a similar face shape with the same sharp cheekbones and strong jawline but his face was a bit longer than that. You noticed a five o’clock shadow he might’ve been planning to shave off soon. His height was shorter than your Miguel but it was still tall enough to tower over you. His face was in a scowl, teeth bared and claws unsheathed, on guard for the danger that he decided you were. You took a glance down his chest, the spider emblem different than you remember–much sharper than your Miguel’s geometric shapes.

“Who…who are you?” You asked, taking a few steps back and this man following, his eyes never leaving yours. If you searched for a while longer, you would’ve seen a hint of disbelief and hidden fondness.

“Miguel O’Hara. Who are you?” He growled. You gulped flinching when your back hit the wall and his clawed hand struck the space by your head to cage you against him.

You stated your name with a shake of your voice. It seemed to anger him further.

“Don’t lie to me.” He grit his teeth, his lips curled to show his fangs.

“It–It’s not! I swear!” You insisted. “Listen, I can explain. I’m from another dimension. I–I’m part of this society full of other people like us—with spider powers. I got…blasted here by some villain when I was with you—or the variant you–but I’m not here to fight some more.” You sighed, hoping he could have some sense and maybe believe you.

Miguel’s eyes narrowed down at you to search and scan for just an ounce of lying in your tone but he found none. His facade cracked for a moment, almost melancholy and sad before hardening again. He separated from you, standing taller and retracting his talons back to his fingertips. You saw him hesitate to lift his hand up but he decided against it. “How did you get here?” He asked lowly.

You lifted your wrist to show your damaged watch. “It’s more or less a dimension hopping device,” You elaborated. Miguel attempted to slip it off your wrist but you stopped him. “I have to keep it on or else I’ll start glitching and–it hurts.” You laughed nervously a bit at the end. Miguel’s facial expression didn’t waver. He only held your wrist–gently at that– and turned it around to examine it.

“I can fix it.” He murmured nonchalantly with a raise of his reddish eyebrow. You sighed. Even in another dimension, Miguel is just as sure of himself. He looked up to meet your eyes, softer but still guarded. “If you’ll let me.”

You nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! Yes, please, of course. That’d be great. Thank you.” He let go of your hand and turned around to a space in his home where various inventions laid around and you followed suit with big eyes. “Woah… This is..cool.” You mumbled. Miguel looked over his shoulder as he walked, a ghost of a fond smile on his lips when you weren’t looking. Then suddenly, a bright yellow figure popped up. She was life sized with long white blonde hair in a side part with a white long dress.

“Welcome home, Miguel,” She placed her hands behind her back and gave him a dimpled smile. Her smile faltered when she saw you. “Is that–”

Miguel cut her off by introducing your name to her. “She’s from another dimension. That’s all, Lyla.” You couldn’t see Miguels face but you did see Lyla’s–which you were surprised at the stark difference. You saw her eyes glance at Miguel and then stand up a bit taller, her smile coming back. It was as if they had a mutual understanding.

“Of course, Miguel.” She closed her eyes and phased out again, leaving the two of you alone again. Miguel turned around to face you and gestured to a stool by a nearby table. You walked over and sat on it, Miguel grabbing another chair–and a toolbox it seemed–and placing himself beside you. He offered his hand and you gave it to him, your size difference being much clearer. Miguel took off his suit gloves which surprised you once more since your Miguel’s suit wasn’t necessarily standard fabric like this one. But since this one had claws too, the suit must also be made of some technology you’re not aware of.

Miguel took a look inside the damage the claws had done to the watch and began working on it silently. You took the time to notice his features and began comparing it to the other Miguel subconsciously.

The five o’clock shadow you had noticed before was also coming in red. It seemed like this version of Miguel leaned more into his Irish side. His hair was in a short side part, with his fringe falling on his forehead but he didn’t seem to pay any mind to it. The small glances he took at you made you see his eyes more clearly. They were the same red as your Miguel and equally as beautiful.

You pushed that thought away. It was strange to think that way about your boss’ variant, much less your boss himself. You admit he’s handsome–the two of them– and you could also tell that they knew that.

“Had enough staring?” He asked when you turn away to shake off your thoughts. If you didn’t know any better, it’d sound like he was teasing you.

“Have you?” You shot back. “I saw you staring too.”

“I was.” Miguel answered simply. He placed a screwdriver down, popping open the screen and examining it further. “Sorry about that. You…remind me of someone.”

The air had felt heavier. You had a gut feeling and you decided to see if you were right. “Did you know another me?”

Miguel nods, not looking up. “My own you, she passed,” He picks apart the device carefully, making sure to not damage it further. “Seeing you and sensing you…I was convinced you were some villain trying to haunt me. But I know now that it’s not true.” He says with little to no emotion. Maybe he was just hiding it under a facade. It wouldn’t be the first time you were on that end.

“I’m sorry,” You tried to apologize but he stood up, taking a piece of your watch with him.

“Nothing’s really damaged other than the screen. It shouldn’t be a problem to fix.” He says softly, and turns away to another side of the room. You purse your lips, deciding whether or not to play into his bad habits of closing off when he just opened up. You decided the former and asked another question.

“How long will it take?”

He pauses. “Do you hate it here already?”

“What?! No. No, of course not! I mean, I can't hate what I don’t know. Not to say I don’t know you. I know a Miguel just maybe you’re different. Which isn’t a bad thing but it’s just I can’t overstay–I need to go home because that would be invading your space.”

Miguel looks over at you and the corners of his lips are turned up. “I was joking.”

You stop your rambling and frown at him. “Your humor is bland.” Miguel laughs through his nose and shakes his head.

“You’re still the same…” He murmurs to himself. He shrugs off that thought, thinking it was disrespectful to the you that he once knew.

“It won’t take long,” He speaks to you. “I don’t have the exact materials as this but it’s still possible to make them. It should take a couple days. Maybe a little more or less a week.” He pulls up a holographic monitor and touches across the screen.

A week, you thought to yourself, at best. Miguel took another look around the damaged screen he’d plucked off your watch.

“Did I make this?” He looked over at you and you instinctively sat up straighter. “The other me.” He clarified.

“Well, yeah,” You shrugged on one side. “Made the blueprint and had Lyla help make it.”

“Lyla?” He hummed with a raise of his eyebrows. “Hm.” His jaw clenched, feeling a tinge of envy for his counterpart. He did dimensional travel and he had you around? It wasn’t fair. With a click of his tongue, he placed the screen back down and moved away from the table, opting out to type things you couldn’t see on another monitor.

You felt awkward sitting there with nothing to do so you stood up and looked around, keeping a respectful distance from Miguel and his things. You didn’t notice the way he stopped typing and admired you through the reflection of his monitor.

Same curve of your nose, shape of your jaw, same way your eyelashes fluttered. Miguel wished you were a ghost in that moment, maybe then he wouldn’t feel that agonizing itch to hold you again. “Do you…want a change of clothes?” He asked you, pulling you out of your bubble. “I have some of her things still here, lying around.” He offered, trying to appear nonchalant. You looked down at your spider suit. It was a bit dirtied from being thrown around so you could use a pair of comfortable clothes.

“Yeah. I mean, I don’t want to ruin her things or anything.”

Miguel shook his head and made his way out, ushering you to follow him. “I insist. I’d rather her things be used than lying around anyway.” You two had walked into his bedroom again. He opened his bottom drawer and pulled out some shirt and sweatpants. He held onto them a little longer before inhaling and passing them to you.

You looked at the clothes, noting how he looked at them “I really don’t have to wear them–”

“Please.” Miguel insisted. You blinked once and licked your lips, giving him time to make sure before you took it in your hands. You held it close to your chest.

“Bathroom?” You asked. He pointed down the hall and you followed, closing the door behind you and leaving Miguel alone with his thoughts. He rummaged through his drawer to find his own set of comfortable clothes outside his suit. He thought to himself, thinking about you and trying to find any differences. Your nose bridge was different but the tip of it was the same. Your hair texture was the same but you had a slightly different hue.

He didn’t know whether or not he wanted to help you. On one hand, you were the ghost of his past–the figure that taunted him of his failures as Miguel and as Spider-Man. But on the other hand, he missed you. All he ever wanted was to see you again and he wanted to selfishly keep seeing you. He sat at the edge of his bed, battling with his inner thoughts until he heard you come back.

Miguel looked up and got the wind knocked out of his chest. They fit you perfectly like you bought these yourself. You smiled awkwardly at him, thinking it was weird for him to see you in his dead girlfriend's clothes but he just nodded.

“Looks like it fits.” He choked out.

“They do. Thanks, again.” You smiled wearily. One week. He’d enjoy you for one week and maybe–just maybe– ask if you can come back.

Miguel didn't like the fact you offered to stay in his penthouse while he did his Spider-Man duties. Even more so when he knew you didn’t like sitting still either and only offered out of politeness. He guessed that if you were anything like him now, a being with super powers, it meant you also felt a responsibility to do something and help people. So, he invited you to join his patrols.

You declined at first. “I’ve already crashed your universe–”

“Would it kill you to just join me without being so high and mighty?” He asked with a pointed look knowing you were too nice for your own good even in his universe. You sighed through your nose and reluctantly agreed, still feeling awkward around him despite his not so stubble attempts to make you comfortable. Which was strange considering your initial hostile encounter.

For the next few days, it seemed patrolling was a nice bonding time for you two. Surprisingly, you worked well together like he knew just how you worked and acted accordingly. He knew once you spotted a small crime going on, he’d let you get the first punch in since you were a bit competitive. While swinging, he figured out you liked to hang in the air for a moment longer before using your webs again ao he swung at a distance while you could do your flips and jumps. For the entire week, you had forgotten you were technically stranded here but that fact didn’t seem to bother you.

Along with that, Miguel worked on fixing your watch, creating a small wristband that would delay your glitching while he took the device. Eventually, he did fix it and turned it brand new again. You were incredibly grateful and he just smiled softly at you through his shaded glasses. You slipped it on and was prepared to head home when he stopped you and asked if you’d like to go on a final patrol with him. You fiddled with your watch, debating but you did feel a small part of you not wanting to leave him, strangely enough. So, you went.

It had been late by the time you came back to his penthouse, opting to crawl through the window of his bedroom. The night was hotter than expected, both of you leaning on the wall to catch your breaths after ripping off your masks.

“Made sure no one followed?” You asked with a heavy sigh. Miguel propped himself off the wall and leaned over to glance outside the window beside you, his hand placed next to your head and his hand subconsciously held your hip, making you freeze. He didn’t seem to notice even as you stared shamelessly up at him. Miguel’s eyes were focused and sharp, a stark contrast to the way he squinted under his sunglasses during the daytime. His arm by your head flexed as he moved to keep himself steady but the hand on your hip was warm and comforting that left your heart fluttering. Sure, he was handsome–but you couldn’t, right? Right?

Miguel’s eyes found yours again and for a moment was confused why you seemed so stiff. You looked up at him with beady and bashful eyes that made his heart skip a beat. He instinctively looked down at your lips and back to your eyes, his hand moving up to your waist. He hunched over you, caging you to the wall and making you feel the heat radiating off his body. You stared straight even as he closed in on you by your ear, your heart pounding in your chest and down to your abdomen.

“If you want me to stop, I’ll stop.” He whispered by your ear, his thumbs by your waist caressed your hip bone, a subtle reminder of his sweetness underneath his rough exterior. Despite the short time spent together, he was sure you felt something for him after basically living with him. He was still at a distance but with your lack of reply, he took that as an answer and took a step back away from you.

Before he could, you grabbed onto his arms, keeping him in place and close to you. “No,” You said quickly. “No, don’t stop. Please.” You whispered, your heart hammering inside your chest.

Miguel came back to you, his arms securing himself around you, his own heartbeat increasing in speed. “Are you sure?” He asked softly.

You nodded. “Please.” You whispered again. Miguel took one arm off your waist to cup your cheek and tilt it up to face him. You felt heat crawl up to your cheeks meanwhile Miguel looked like he was about to take a bite of the forbidden fruit that was you. He was entranced and a little needy and eager to feel your lips on his again. Despite you being a different version of the one he knew–it was still you. Down to your hair, eyes and lips. Even the way your nose would scrunch in disgust and the way you walked and fiddled with your fingers. It was all still you. He wasn’t going to lose his chance.

So he kissed you.

He kissed you like a man starved, practically bending your back as he curled himself on top of you. You wrapped your arms around his neck to gain some stability while he pulled you close enough for you to go on your tiptoes. He tilted his head, deepening the kiss and his hand left your cheek to bend slightly to pick you up. You got the hint and wrapped your legs around him and Miguel pressed you up against the wall. His growing erection grinding slowly on your clothed heat, making the two of you moan.

Your fingers curled into his fiery hair just the way he liked and his hands grabbed at every piece of flesh he could squeeze in his palms. Miguel’s lips separated from yours, a string of saliva connecting the two of you until he brought his lips down to your neck. You leaned your head back on the wall while he worked his magic, licking and nipping at your flesh with care due to his fangs. You heard him moan, gripping you tighter as he tasted you and your breathing became heavier.

Miguel lifted you off the wall, hurrying towards his bedroom and plopping your body down on the plush, soft mattress. He took your thighs and separated them to see the wet patch seeping out your spider suit. You felt his talons gently probing your skin and his eyes met yours again as he paused.

You nodded once again and with new vigor, he took one clawed hand and slashed the bottom half of your suit apart along with your panties. You gasped.

“Miguel…!”

“I’ll get you ten shocking suits. Just let me have you.” He groaned and delved between your legs. He licked up a stripe and your breath hitched, your hands immediately finding his hair. Miguel felt himself strain in his own suit, bucking his hips pathetically against anything he could find while he ate you out. His tongue probed your entrance and his nose rubbed against your clit that made your arch your back and thrust yourself on his mouth. His fingers joined his mouth in pushing you to your limit, coaxing more moans and whimpers from your pouting lips.

You covered up your mouth with your hand, covering up your face in embarrassment. The sounds of Miguel slurping and licking up your essence made you so much more wet and weak. You squirm underneath his hands and Miguel growls, using his strength to keep your legs in place and apart while he indulges in the taste of you. His eyes are closed, salivating and devouring your juices with every lap of his tongue. His fingers spread your lips open, sliding one finger in and swirling his tongue in your pussy. You clench around his wet muscle and finger, feeling him smirk against you.

Miguel continues to ease his finger inside you, pumping it too slowly for your liking. You whined which made his cock twitch and you pleaded for more. Drunk on your sweetness, he complied and added a second finger, the stretch becoming evident. You arched your back off the bed and you felt Miguel's other hand caress your thigh comfortingly. His moans send vibrations to your clit and grind yourself desperately on him while squealing his name.

“Hmm–Fuck, Mi-ggy…” You whined, pressing your thighs around his head. You felt Miguel pause for a split second, the nickname you’ve given him had gone straight between his legs. He gained more confidence to please you, taking his fingers out to grab your breast and sucking on your clit. The sensation of him forcibly spreading you apart again and the combination of your nipple being tweaked pulled and his tongue made you feel shocks of electricity down your spine. You felt the pit of your abdomen growing with your upcoming climax and you started thrashing around as much as you could with Miguel holding you down.

“Miggy! Fuck–Don’t stop!” As if he would ever, now that he’s tasted your delectable pussy. He only continued the same pace that had you squirming and chasing you high. His fingers teasing your nipples after every swirl of his tongue and the bubble pops inside you.

You scream his name into the air and grip on the sheets beside you while screwing your eyes shut. You humped on his eager mouth, drinking in whatever you gave him with a satisfied hum. He pressed closer to make sure he could lap up as much as he could but still, drips of you slid down his chin and around his lips. You mewled when the high finished and you were left with a sensitive pussy that he still made sure to clean you up with his mouth.

With hazy eyes, you stared at him still between your legs, watching with a smirk as you collected yourself. Miguel swirled his tongue around his lips to clean himself off and even used his hands to scoop up the parts he couldn’t reach to lick it off spotlessly, not a single ounce of your cum going to waste. It made you burn in embarrassment but also gaining a weak pulse to your twitching pussy.

He kneeled over you, drinking in your naked body from the flyaways in your hair to the way your legs shook after just orgasming. His stare was intense and it made you want to hide yourself from just how long he’d been looking at you for. You didn’t know it, but Miguel felt a twinge of heartache in his chest. He missed you–the other you dearly– and it felt strange that in a way you’re still here but different. He felt afraid that this might’ve been on impulse. You look like her, sound like her, but yet you haven’t experienced things with him like her. The you in front of him was, in a way, a whole different woman.

“Miguel?” You gently pulled him out of his mind. Oh, how your eyes still send his heart racing when he looks at you. Your eyes held concern and worry in them. Was he regretting it? Should you stop? It was the opposite. One look at you and Miguel’s worries had faded.

It’s still you down to your core. The one he had truly fallen in love with. In every lifetime and in every universe, he was meant to be beside you. He leaned in to nuzzle against the softness of your neck and pressed a lingering kiss to your jaw. “Nothing,” He eased your worries. “You’re just simply gorgeous.” He murmured and you felt a blush crawl up your neck.

Miguel made his way down your neck to your chest where he continued to leave kisses in his wake. His head of red hair curled slightly from the sweat that had built up between the two of you and it tickled you on his way down. Your bashful state was cut short when he flicked your nipple with his tongue and it made you whimper. Your mind had gone up in the clouds once more when he began suckling on the bud, the nerves of it sending signals to your pussy, making you wet again.

Miguel took a moment to rid himself of his own suit and underwear, returning to please your tender breasts. His knee had gone in between your thighs to push one leg away and his hand delved down to rub your swollen clit. His fingers rubbed in small circles that made you melt and lean your head back while his mouth continued its attack on gently biting your now hardened nipples. Your hands ran through his hair which encouraged him further and you both moaned in unison.

Miguel pulled away from your tits, a small smirk on his lips as he saw the bitemark around your bud beginning to form. His hand left your sopping cunt and licked off the sweet nectar that was you with a hum of his voice. The sight left you shivering and he leaned back down to kiss you, making you taste yourself. You mewled as he forced his tongue inside to find yours in a heated dance. Your eyes rolled back and you pressed your chest up which made him groan when he felt your hard nipples graze his skin.

You felt a blunt poke at your entrance and Miguel pulled away just enough for his forehead to be above yours. He looked into your eyes, another check to see if this is what you wanted–what you both wanted. You nodded again, firmly this time, and he didn’t need another second.

Miguel pushed his fat cockhead between your lips to coat his length before entering it inside you. You winced and Miguel buried himself in your neck, his hand on your hip, caressing you and encouraging you to hold onto him. You wrapped your arms around him as he pushed further inside you, his size being nothing you’ve experienced. “I know, I know,” He shushed you, kissing your neck to distract you. “Such a pretty girl. You can take it, sweetheart.”

You whimpered at his praise, digging your nails in his back that left red crescents behind, a faint click sounding out that neither of you heard when you bumped your hand on his shoulder. “Miguel…” You moaned, spreading your legs further apart while he shook, sliding himself inside you.

Miguel moaned your name back, finally pushing himself to the hilt and his balls slapping your cunt with a wet smack from the combination of your weeping core and his spit. You wiggled your hips at the snug fit and tried to get used to his size but he stopped you, hissing and digging his nails in your flesh to anchor himself from cumming immediately. He kissed your cheeks to ease you while he gently pulled in and out in small strokes.

“More….harder…” You mewled, your walls finally used to his girth and clamping down on his throbbing cock to suck him in deeper. Miguel grabbed your hips and lifted it up with his inhumane strength and began moving, his cock glistening with your slick when he pulled out and hearing it squelch inside your wet cunt when he pushed back in. Your nails scratched at his chest and he grabbed one of your hands to press a kiss to the inside of your wrist. “You’re driving me crazy,” Miguel moaned. “This cunt’s just been waiting to be fucked, huh?” He huffed, slowly gaining speed. When you didn’t respond, he slammed into you and made you scream from his tip hitting your sweet spot. “Yes!” You sobbed, feeling his hands push your legs up to your chest and hammered himself in your pussy. You wrapped your arms around him while he pounded into you, hiding yourself in his neck. The bed creaked below you two, sheets shuffling from the force of Miguel ravaging your body. Miguel rested his arm above your head and held onto your thigh, making sure you were spread open while he adjusted his position to be more comfortable while pistoning his throbbing cock. He let out small grunts and moans, nipping at your neck and being careful with his fangs. With his dick hitting a different spot, you wrapped your legs around his waist to push him deeper. It seemed like even with him stretching your walls and splitting you apart, it was never enough–you wanted more. In the pit of your stomach, you knew you needed to have something more. His fucking was still mind-blowing, his talons gently poking your plush thighs and balls slapping rhythmically to the sounds of your whimpers and cries, which he adored. “So pretty, you sing so pretty for me,” He murmured, choking on his own pleasure as he felt you gushing around him just from the sheer ecstasy that coursed through your veins. “So tight and so warm—oh, god–” He groaned, picking up pace that had you squealing and clenching around him. “Lemme fill this pretty pussy, hm? Can I? Hm?” He moaned, trailing his wet lips down your chest to latch onto your nippled again, His tongue flicking the perky nub and pulling it between his teeth.

“Yes, yes, yes–God, yes–please!” You wailed, your hands scratching his shoulder blades and digging into his skin for purchase while you bucked in time with his thrusting. You eyes rolled back then closing them to focus on the way his cockhead was slamming into your sweet spot at just the pace you liked. You felt Miguel suck on your nipple, switching to the other side to give it equal amounts of attention. You shuttered and cried his name, finally feeling the dam break inside you. “Miguel!” Your vision going white and the euphoria of it washing over your body while you felt your pussy cum all over his length and squeezing him. Miguel let out a guttural groan deep from his throat when he felt you cum and clamp around him. Your cum slicked his cock and pelvis, and he then went faster to reach his own orgasm. You thrashed under him, feeling incredibly sensitive while he kept slapping against your pussy and pounding inside your walls. You moaned that you were just too sensitive, tears collecting at your eyes from overstimulation. He let go of your nipple and kissed you quickly to stop your whining. He lifted his head to watch you squeeze your eyes shut, gripping onto him tightly and whimpering. His eyes were bewitched with the scene of your tits bouncing, bite marks littered across the plump flesh. His eyes scanning down to see your slick making a mess between your legs after cumming, the way small strings connected to his person. But the sight of his massive cock sliding easily inside your pussy, your folds welcoming him by wrapping around him–he snapped from within and came hard. Miguel quickly grabbed the sheets so his talons could rip through them instead of you, his body curling as he let out a final groan and his cock spurted his seed in you. He continued to pump his load, feeling his cock soften and twitch out the rest of himself in strings of salty cum–a white ring forming on the base of his dick. He huffed, shaking as he made sure all of his cum stayed inside you. When he pulled out, a small white string connected from his tip to your pussy, slipping apart when he was far away enough. He watched the mess between your legs for a moment, breathing heavily as his seed oozed out of your folds and his heart began to beat a little bit faster.

Miguel carefully lifted himself off the bed to go to the bathroom and returned with a towel to clean between your legs. He carefully wiped your clean, being extra careful around your abused pussy. He watched you to make sure you weren’t in any discomfort, but you nearly fell asleep with how gentle he was. Miguel tossed the soiled towel into his hamper and slid back into bed with you. He brought you into his chest while he laid on his back, and he brought his covers up to your chin. You wrapped yourself around him and he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, his hand running up and down your arm soothingly.

For a while, neither of you spoke, a strange comforting silence in the air. That is, until Miguel broke it.

“Miggy?” He asked. You grunted, still half-asleep and barely conscious.

“Sorry.” You mumbled, thinking it was rude of you to call him something so casually. Miguel huffed and looked down at you, his other hand petting your hair back.

“No, no. I didn’t mind. It was cute,” He smiled even if you couldn’t see it. “Do you…think you could stay?” He asked hesitantly.

His question made you wake up, the tone had gone a little serious but you knew what he meant. “I can’t,” You whispered and you felt his chest deflate. You felt horrible but you knew better than to stay in a dimension that wasn’t yours. “But…maybe I could come back?” You offered.

Miguel stiffened and you heard his heart beating faster. “Really?” You nodded and snuggled against his chest.

“I can’t stay but it’s not against the rules to visit other dimensions.”

Miguel scoffed at the mention of rules but if he got to see you again then that’s all that matters. “Will you go in the morning?” He asked, hoping you’d say no.

“I think I’ll stay a while.” You murmured sleepily and Miguel grinned to himself, letting you sleep peacefully in his arms.

While you had fallen asleep in the comforting arms of your boss’ variant, you failed to notice the shutter of your watch clicking off from a call.

Miguel O’Hara, leader of the Spider Society and the one who had been looking for you all this time, was sitting alone in his office panting heavily. Sweat accumulated on his forehead and thighs, a hue of crimson across his cheeks as he let go of his softening cock. Splatters of his cum, drenched his hand and desk and he groaned realizing what he had done.

He hadn’t meant to spy on you and your intimacy with whoever you wanted. He wasn’t expecting to hear from you after losing you on a mission, much less moaning his name. At first, he was relieved that you were alive and was about to speak until you squealed his name so sweetly. Miguel froze, wondering if you somehow got home and didn’t tell him. Whatever you did on your time was yours, but you were calling out to him. Eventually he learned it wasn’t him, but a different version. He debated whether to click out or not but some sick and twisted emotion inside him reveled in the way you begged and writhed underneath his variant.

Miguel had phased his hardening cock out of his suit and began pumping it slowly in time with his variants thrusts. He focused solely on you rather than the man that looked nothing like him. Another sick thought in his head wished his variant looked more like him, so he could imagine himself fucking you properly. Miguel made sure he was muted as he grunted and cursed under his breath, muttering praises to you in Spanish he knew you couldn’t hear. He made sure to edge himself, wanting to cum when he heard you scream his name. He bursted a fat load onto himself and the desk as you cried out your orgasm, watching you throw your head back and clutch onto his variant while you shook violently around his cock.

He grit his teeth, jealousy brewing in his heart at how hard you came. He could do better.

Once his mind had cleared up, he blushed heavily, shame overcoming his previous desires and covered his face. Despite being alone, he felt someone watching–which was hypocritical given what he had done. Before he ended the call, he traced your coordinates to find where you had been stranded all this time. Tomorrow, he’d find you and get you back.

A/N: i'm a proud lover of all versions of miguel !!!!! please be patient for part 2 🙏

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (Pt.82)

(Sneak Peek)(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: The first beach day of the season prompts both You and Tae to talk through some of your sadness. This time, you do something about it. "You’re so gentle. I don’t think you understand it.”

Tags: Trans! Tae, Dysphoria, talks of jealousy and love, top surgery/boob jobs, medical talk, talk of weight gain, body insecurity, body dysmorphia, boobs, fingering, mild dirty talk, voyeurism, Talks of depression, mention of seizures but no seizures today, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, talk of marriage and wedding rings, mentions of past physical abuse, mentions of ptsd, scars, this is the beach episode that all anime's have,

W/c: 16.0k

A/n: ahhhh here we are! i didn't expect the next part to take me this long- but i guess that's what happens when you try to go to a bts concert and go to college! this chapter is a bit heftier than usual! but that was because i couldn't shut up about tae (is anyone really suprised?) Please give me some love! The title of this chapter is Maraschino cherry

Previous part- Masterlist - First part

Hobi likes to pick the roses in the early morning, right as he has his first cup of coffee.

Someone else inside is getting you yours, or maybe you and Tae are changing for the pack's beach day. You both looked sleepy and draped all over each other when Hobi last saw you, trailing after Jin who was already griping about the UV index as Tae led you in the direction of the dressing room to pick out your bikini for the day.

His careful fingers are mindful of thorns as he snips them free of the bush. Noodle meows from around his ankles guarding the alpha’s coffee (and occasionally sneaking sips. Especially if Hobi's used half and half). His baby blue cup rests in the grass slightly overgrown because Hobi is ever mindful of the pollinators.

He has a few blooms in his hands, mainly the pink ones.

Hobi offers one to Noodle, crouching on creaky knees, letting the cat smell. Pushing his whiskers past the first row of petals. Purring loudly.  

“What do you say Nu? Should we head inside and see if the girls like them?”

The door creeks and Hobi's coffee cup dangles from one pinky, empty. Three brightly colored beach bags wait by the door almost stopping Hobi from being able to open it. They're already piled high with towels, chip bags, and enough sunscreen to cover a small parking lot. Your and Tae's dresses are draped over the back of the couch, colorful and long patchwork spilling half onto the floor. A river of multi-colored floral squares.

Hobi can be forgiven for not immediately realizing what he’s watching.

You’re up on the counter and the bikini you wear is small, a bit too small. The red string at the back is tied in a bow. One of Tae's hands tangles in it. Winding the red strand over her knuckles, back and forth between her fingers. Your bare back and your dimples are on display- distracting Hobi from what's going on at your front.

There’s just a lot of skin is all and not much clothes. Hobi can handle it. Like a gentleman. He restrains his imagination. Reminding himself that he's allowed to look, that he's not being creepy. But still- he's a little happy that Tae seems to be too busy whispering something to you from between your legs to notice Hobi's staring or else he'd surely surrender himself for a morning of teasing.

She's got one hand on your hip, digging into the alluring cleft where hip meets torso and the other at your front concealed by your bodies. Your scar shines silvery. Hobi hardly notices it.

You’d think he’d be used to it- you and Tae lounging around in little to nothing but you still take his breath away. Weather it's Tae's gauzy collection of night dresses, or your spread of mini sleep shorts- all of it tortures him (hobi is not alone in this, the rest of the pack commiserates on the daily about you and tae). But the mini bikini seems extra extra mini today. The thread-narrow straps and small red triangles do little to conceal your body and how it swells.

Your milk had tapered off after the first few weeks but the swelling has been slow to go. That coupled with a little bit of post-heat indulgence and doting has left your body round and supple in a way that the Alpha's just devour. Hobi knows you've complained more than once about the newfound back aches and he sympathizes he really does but-

But fuck.

You sort of look like something off the cover of one of those vintage Playboy magazines that Tae pretends she likes for 'aesthetic reasons'. Not that Hobi judges. Hobi understands why tae's a little obsessed with them. Your chest is sort of a wet dream.

The whole pack is alot obsessed with them.

Hobi thinks you're just kissing until You tip your head back and moan, and he almost trips over the corner of the carpet.

“Oh? You're-” Hobi's throat goes dry.

Tae picks her head up from where it was buried in your hair and laughs. Showing her canines, eyes bright and mischievous.

Her hand keeps moving between your thighs, when you try to close your legs, Tae's other hand grabs your knee, pushing them to stay open. She does it like she's hardly noticing you squirming away, hardly noticing your sudden shyness.

It's nothing Hobi hasn't seen before. This kind of thing is sort of routine for the pack (yesterday he found Jungkook and Yoongi fucking in the sunroom, and the morning before that hobi walked in on Jimin and namjoon having some sort of staring match as Jin showered both of them hard and pretending they weren't. And the day before that Tae had walked in on you and Hobi and Yoongi being…a little bit ridiculous on the front porch. Some all too public heavy petting that the pack alpha and pack omega would surely disapprove of.

It's not the first time hobi has kept your secrets.

The last time Hobi saw Tae finger you, you were at the kitchen table (three mornings ago) but Hobi can't say it's not a welcome surprise. Your squirming is all you can do to keep the pack's pawing at bay when you're like this.

Tae grins, Drinking in Hobi's blush like it's strawberry lemonade. She doesn’t slow her pace at all. Two fingers or three? Her hand works in between your tights as you sag against her front, boneless. Giving in to the fact that you have an audience and Tae doesn't have any plans of stopping. Her wrist crooks to find the angle that makes your toes curl and Hobi sees it on your face the moment she finds that little spot that makes you clench extra hard.

Upstairs, Jungkook laughs loudly. Someone or something crashes into a door or a wall hard enough to make the windows in the kitchen rattle. Probably Jimin and Jungkook chasing each other around, zoomies that are sure to get worse when you get to the beach.

“Guys” Jin’s stressed tone sounds from upstairs and Namjoon’s deep baritone says something in response. Too low to hear. Distracting the pack omega so that the pups can be pups.

Hobi smirks, kicking a hip up against the counter after refilling his coffee. Settling in to watch. The roses are forgotten about, discarded on the counter where they glimmer, going withy.

Hobi sips his coffee. Making eye contact with you over Tae's shoulder. And you blush furiously at the blatant way his eyes flicker from your face to your chest to between your legs.

"Do you-" you breathe heavily, cheek resting against Tae's arm, scrambling to paw at her hand when she crooks her fingers a little deeper, petting insistently in and in. Your bikini bottom is pushed to the side, leaving a little trickle of slick on the counter. The dewy and delicious parts of you are hardly hidden by Tae's wrist. A delighted growl-pur builds in hobi's chest at the sight.

"Do you have to watch?" Your voice goes breath as Tae changes the angle of her hand and you throw your head back, but Hobi doesn't even blink.

"I'm quite enjoying my view thank you very much." He teases.

Coming Saturday April 5th at 5pm EST (Time Zone Adjustments Below)

[the-fiction-witch]

You Don't Want To Marry Me... Do You?

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Oscar Tully (Age Up kinda sort of... post war) Couple - Oscar X Reader + Mentioned Lucerys x Reader Reader - Y/n Targaryen (Dark hair/ Purple Eyes) Rating - 12 Word Count - 3558

War was a complicated thing, not only the harshness of battle but also the complex political matters interwoven with every ally and enemy. But the battle was now over, and the war won. King Aegon the Third now sat on the throne with his queen. The war ended by simply two children swearing oaths they didn't understand. But the realm was once more at peace

Leaving the people of the kingdom to return to normality, and the lords to clean up the mess the war had left them in. One of these such messes was a marriage.

When the war was at its cusp, Daemon Targaryen needed to raise an army large enough to combat King’s Landing and the Hightowers. So he gathered the support of the Riverlands, Daemon needed their army in size and skill, and Oscar Tully needed to assert himself as Lord paramount before his lords to quell any uprising against him as he was the youngest of all lords in the Riverlands. And a deal was struck… Oscar Tully as lord paramount was the last Tully living, he would need a wife to keep his family line alive. So Daemon agreed that when the war was over… Oscar would get to have Y/n, Daemon's Eldest daughter as his bride.

Now war was won there were questions if the match would still go ahead, but he agreed for the sake of his oath.

Oscar sat alone in the great hall of Riverrun. He was nervous. He was about to meet his future wife for the first time and he was completely and utterly unsure of what to do. His blue eyes scanned over the room, it had been done up particularly nice this day for her arrival, the Tully sigil was proudly on display everywhere. And the room looked remarkably clean and tidy. He got up and began to pace, back and fourth in front of his chair.

What if she didn't like him, what if he didn't like her. They knew nothing of each other. They had never met, not once!

What he did know was this was the most nervous he had ever felt. And he didn't know why. Why was he so nervous about this woman, who was basically a total stranger to him.

The doors opening brought Oscar to a stop in his pacing. He turned around and stood straight, his hands clenched behind his back.

Lord Bigglestone hurried inside bowing "My lord Paramount."

He nodded and smiled at Bigglestone. "You may rise, what is it?"

"The Party from Dragonstone arrives at the gates, My Lord." He nodded,

Oscar’s heart jumped, he could feel it in his chest, banging away. He swallowed deeply to try and fight the sudden lump in his throat, "They are here? Right now?"

"Yes My Lord, your lady wife with them."

He nodded, his heart was now beating like a war drum in his chest. His hands were clenched so tightly that his knuckles were whitening, "Very well, take me to them."

Lord Bigglestone nodded and led Oscar through the castle to the courtyard, the drawbridge across the river bridge was lowered and a small carriage and four horses trotted slowly though,

Oscar’s heart in his mouth, his head filled with many conflicting emotions, was he excited? Nervous? Both?

The Carriage came fully beyond the bridge and stopped, the four guards dismounted their horses and opened the carriage door placing a set of steps below it. Five or six young women scuttered out in the familiar red and black dresses the servants of House Targaryen always seemed to wear.

Oscar found himself holding his breath. He watched the girls line up and bow to him, his eyes wandering to each one of them trying to figure out which one was his betrothed, his soon-to-be wife.

But that was soon answered as the final figure left the carriage. Princess Y/n Targaryen emerged. She wore knee-high black boots, stockings and several layers of dress most of which a dulled Targaryen red with Juliet sleeves. She wore a tight black valyrian steel corset as sort of a chestplate-like armour more than fashion. Long slightly curly dark hair pulled back by a tiara of the same valyrian steel as her corset. Pale skin, and the typical purple eyes.

His breath was taken from him. Oscar stood watching her step from the carriage as if in a daze. He couldn’t help staring, he had never seen such beauty. Not a single lady in the Riverlands or anywhere else was worthy to stand next to her, she was a sight beyond compare. He had to force his mouth closed as he realised he was gawping, her appearance was enough to send his heart into a frenzy.

She climbed down without assistance and walked to Oscar her hands clasped in front of her waist, she bowed.

He bowed in return, then looked up and cleared his throat. "It's- It's so good to finally meet you. My lady- princess. I mean."

"As it is grand to finally meet you, Lord Paramount. Now that we may celebrate peace and … oaths once sworn." Her tone was a little sharp, almost like she wasn't … thrilled,

He caught that edge in her tone. Her last words gave it away fully. She didn’t want this marriage. She didn’t want him. The thought stung, he wanted to make a good first impression, he wanted her to like him, but instead she looked like she’d rather be anywhere but here. He swallowed once more. "Y-yes. So we may," He let the silence hang awkwardly between them for a few moments. He wanted to say more but no words came. His feelings of excitement and nervousness had vanished, he was now feeling awkward and a mixture of disappointment and confusion. He was supposed to be married to her, how were they to last if she didn’t like him? His blue eyes lingered on her, he was at a loss again for words.

Bigglestone looked uncomfortable as they stood in silence, "Perhaps… Lord Tully the princess Y/n may like a tour and perhaps a history of Riverrun. As it is to be her new home?" Lord Bigglestone spoke up,

Oscar was glad to have Bigglestone break the awkward tension. He nodded, his eyes breaking away from hers and turning to Bigglestone. "Yes, Yes. Of course. We can tour Riverrun" he said, his voice a little shaky. He turned his head back to Y/n. "Would you care for a tour, my lady?"

"That is, agreeable." she nodded offering her arm,

He took her arm, holding onto it gently as he began to lead her around Riverrun. Bigglestone hung back, letting the couple have some space and privacy. The air between them was still somewhat tense, but Oscar was determined to try and talk. He wasn’t too good at it, but he had to try. "So… um… how was the journey from Kings Landing? Was it a long one?"

"It was quick. And Luckily Eventless…"

He nodded, taking note of the emphasis she put on the word eventless. The air hung awkwardly between them once again, before Oscar quickly spoke again. He didn’t want her feeling any more dislike towards him than she already did. "Have you ever been to a Riverlands before?" he asked, it was a weak question that he immediately wanted to take back but it was all that came to his mind,

"No."

He internally cursed himself. Small talk had never been his forte but it was never this hard. He wracked his brain, trying to think of something different to say and to prevent it going awkwardly silent again, "Ah, well this is my home, Riverrun. It sits across the Tumblestone which we can see there." He pointed out multiple other sights, including the godswood, the castle itself, the great hall, his high seat, his own solar. As he pointed out they got closer and closer to the great hall again. Oscar’s mind was working overtime to find something else to talk about, but every time he found something it didn’t come to him to ask. As they reached the great hall again right where they had began, "And this is the great hall…Again. Where we will no doubt spend much time together"

"… I see." Y/n nodded glancing around the room,

He watched her eyes wander about the room, a silence falling as she fixated on the window seats. was she just admiring the view? Was she wishing she was back in Kings landing? He didn’t know why but he had to keep talking so that the conversation didn’t end again "Beautiful view isn’t it?"

"Umm… grey," she said,

He tried to keep the surprise and confusion he felt from showing on his face. He’d never heard someone describe the riverlands like that. To most people it looked like a rich and beautiful place. He took a deep breath, choosing his words very carefully "Grey, princess?"

"Very grey, rainy and wet." she answered her eyes still on the window seats

He couldn’t help feel a bit offended by her description of his home. The riverlands were beautiful, sure it was muggy and wet at times but it was very green, the grey was just the rain passing through. He couldn’t understand why she was so… unenthusiastic about the land to be her home, her land as lady. “Well… there is a lot of rivers and rain. It’ll grow on you, I suppose” He knew what he had to ask, but he so desperately wanted to avoid it, and he felt a deep sense of dread as he said the dreaded question “If you don’t mind me asking… do you want to be here, my princess?”

"How so?" she asked leaving his arm to walk to a window seat, she sat herself down and let out a long sigh,

He followed her and didn’t sit down, standing in front of her as she sat looking out the window, “Well… you just… don’t seem to like the Riverlands that much, or me. You don’t seem to want to be here. You don’t want to marry me… do you?” he said, his voice was beginning to waver as he spoke,

"… I suppose I don't." she answered sadly, "Forgive me… I mean not to offend you or cause you distress. I have… rather felt disillusioned with most things of late."

His heart sunk at her words, she didn’t want to marry him. He had never felt such a wave of dejection hit him. But even amongst the pain and shock, he tried to keep calm and be reasonable. “I-I suppose I understand. You know, I didn’t want this either. I didn’t want to marry for politics.” he found the courage to sit beside her on the window seat,

"I must ask, why did you make this agreement with my father? Before the war? To what end was it? You'd never met me, we were at a fool's hope, the closest we may ever have gotten was if they happened to have placed our heads on nearby spikes when the war was over…"

He listened to her words, staring at the floor beside him. He took a shaky breath as he looked up to her, his eyes meeting hers. “It was necessary. In a time of such violence, such chaos. We all needed allies. Your father offered, I had to accept.”

Y/n nodded, "and I suppose being the last living Tully… may have spurred you somewhat? In need of heirs and all."

He nodded, his eyes still locked on hers as he spoke, “That was part of it… amongst other things. House Tully must go on. I-I know you didn’t want a betrothal before the war. But I thought at least, if it had to happen, perhaps after the war you may have been happy to. But… it doesn’t seem that’s the case”

"…It is not that I am unhappy with you Lord Tully. If I may be frank I know nothing of you, you have been kind and pleasant throughout our interactions today and I hold no grudge against you." she explained, "I… meerly am unhappy with the circumstances. My Father traded me away for an army only days after my betrothed was found dead. Watching my family be picked off one by one by this war… and now to watch my youngest brother take the crown. Even though I am my mother's eldest living child… which was her own claim to the throne that tossed us all to war in the first place. But no… I am not to be queen. But to be a lady to a noble house and the bride to a man I never met." she explained, "I suppose I should be happy, perhaps without your alliance with my father… I might have died… but that brings me little comfort,"

He listened intently as she spoke, he felt a pang of sympathy and understanding as he heard her words. He realised now that it wasn’t that she was unhappy with him. It was life that had given her grief. As she spoke he found himself scooting closer to her and, without thinking, slipped his hand in hers and squeezed it, to comfort her. “I get it…” He spoke, his voice sincere and compassionate, He looked at their hands for a moment, feeling her soft skin against his own, before looking back up at her. “You’ve lost your lover, your family, all in the space of just a few short years. Anyone would be unhappy and broken in those circumstances…”

Y/n squeezed his hand back,

He couldn’t help how good it felt to have her squeeze his hand. It made his heart skip a beat. The whole situation was strange, they were betrothed, but yet he barely knew her, he’d never met her for all he knew. Yet in just a few short minutes he was feeling a strange connection to her, as if he’d known her for years. He spoke softy as he looked into her eyes “This may sound silly… but I feel I know you. It’s like we’re old friends.”

"Perhaps… it is the endless trauma of war," she joked,

He couldn’t stop the soft laugh that escaped his lips at her comment, “Perhaps. It certainly makes you feel older than you rightfully are” His laughter died down, as his mind was filled with thoughts once more. Suddenly, he felt a strange and irrational urge. It’d he almost sounded out of place, considering the topic. “May I ask you a personal question?”

"Well… you are to be my husband. I suppose we should begin to be personal."

His heart skipped a beat as the thought he’d be her husband hit him again. He took a breath before asking his question “How did your lover die?… if you don’t mind me asking…”

"… He was eaten." she nodded, "…Attacked while flying his dragon, another dragon bit him and then he fell into the water. His body was so torn up barely more than shreds could ever be found…" she explained wiping a tear, "forgive me…"

He wanted to reply, but the words got caught in his throat, “That’s terrible… I-I’m so sorry”

Y/n sniffled and did her best to wipe away her tears "… I begged him not to go. But he insisted… I can't help feeling responsible… if I had perhaps convinced him to stay he'd… he'd still be here."

He squeezed her hand that was in his once again. It pained him to see her so upset and so sad. The image of her lover falling and being torn apart was stuck in his mind and he felt such sympathy for her. He swallowed and responded, his voice was gentle and comforting “It’s not your fault, you did nothing wrong” Without really thinking, he moved closer to her on the window seat. He turned so he was facing her directly, looking into her eyes as he spoke “It’s not your fault. He made his own decision to go into the fray, you tried to convince him not to, you tried your best to stop him”

"He always was my most foolish brother…"

His face filled with confusion at her words, “Brother? Your lover was your own brother? Your own blood?”

she nodded and cracked a small smile, "I am Targaryen… we didn't like it.. but… tradition."

He was stunned into silence as he stared at her for a few moments. He knew of the many traditions Targaryen’s held and of their incestual nature. But being confronted directly with it stunned him into momentary silence. His tongue finally became unglued, as he found his voice again. His words were gentle and sincere, almost like he was tip-toeing around a dangerous topic. “Did-Did that ever bother you? The… the incest…”

"at times, it was awkward of course. But… comforting someways, everyone knew one another so well that once coupling up began it sort of… just felt normal I suppose."

His face was still somewhat shocked, and slightly horrified at her words. But at the same time, he had to admit there was a certain logic to it. It certainly made marriages much easier when you’d known everyone all your life. He swallowed and spoke again, still keeping his tone soft and kind, “I suppose so… was this something you always knew you would have to do? Have a brother as a lover?”

"It was a… unspoken normality. That I would wed another Targaryen be it a brother, cousin, uncle…"

He tried to picture it in his mind, being told that he would have to marry and bed a family member. It was still as bizarre and disturbing a concept to him though. How could she be so casual about it? How could she not be in a state of shock and disgust from it all. He looked at her with slight bewilderment “And you… never really had a problem with it?”

"I suppose it was just normal… I felt strange about it but not like I could voice such feelings."

He nodded his head, he almost didn’t want to ask this next question, the answer to it might disturb him even more than he all ready was. But he had to ask, his mind would linger on it until he did, “Did you… love him? Your brother?”

"As a brother. Yes. As a lover… I… don't truly know."

He took a couple of moments, trying to understand what she said. He’d always heard that Targaryen’s loved their family too much, in the wrong ways. If it was true, it was true for her His brain was spinning but he couldn’t help ask his next question, “Have you…. Ever been with anyone then?”

"I… have." she admitted, Y/n didn't want to lie to Oscar even if she knew already he wasn't happy,

He felt his heart drop a little as she spoke. It surprised him a little to hear that she had had another lover. He had assumed she was as innocent, virginal and untouched as any highborn Lady would be. The news made him feel a pang of jealousy, even though there was no reason to be jealous. He spoke again, his voice was low and quiet, almost a whisper “Who?”

"Lucerys…" she admitted "We were betrothed so… I suppose we went as far as many betrothals go."

He felt that pang of betrayal and pain again as she spoke. The thought of her being intimate with another man pained him for some reason. He tried to reason in his mind why, he didn’t own her yet, he had no right to feel this way. He forced himself to say his response “How-… how intimate?”

"Kissing… touching… but my maidenhead is preserved, I promise you."

He was relieved by her words. He felt that pang of relief wash over him as she confirmed his fears were unfounded, she was still a maiden. He took a breath, “That is good… that is good…” He suddenly realised he may have sounded rather possessive, like he had some hold over her or her body. He quickly tried to backtrack and soften his words but he fumbled for a second. “I-I mean… I uh- was expecting you to be a maiden. But to know that no other man has… y’know… been with you. I-I’m somewhat happy” He said, his voice somewhat flustered as he spoke, he was cursing himself in his own mind. Why on earth did he sound so desperate?

“Thank you my Lord,” Y/n smiled and squeezed Oscars hand giving him a small peck on the cheek,

He felt his heart skip a beat as she squeezed his hand once more. He couldn’t stop the smile that formed on his lips when she kissed his cheek. He suddenly felt the urge to kiss her properly, to kiss her on the lips. He tried to force the thought from his mind, he wasn’t her husband yet. He felt his heart flutter more as she leaned her head on his shoulder. The urge to kiss her grew and he gently wrapped his arm around her, allowing her to lean comfortably against him. The feeling of her head on his shoulder made his skin feel warm and tingly

"No need for such formalities. Please, call me Oscar…"

"Are you sure my lord?"

He smiled down at her. She was still leaning on his shoulder and he felt his chest tighten as her soft hair brushed against his neck “Of course. We are betrothed after all. It’s a little silly for us to not be on first-name terms”

"As you request, Oscar."

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Rallying Speeches Part 2

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

“Jump signatures detected.”

Admiral Maddox Harcrow nodded to his crew and turned his attention to the forward monitors. One by one red icons began appearing opposite his fleet which displayed in blue.

The two fleets had been shadowing each other for weeks now until finally Harcrow had enough and ordered the Terran fleet to converge on the enemy fleet’s fuel depot. Situated on a moon in the Danar System, the depot at risk proved the perfect bait to draw out the enemy fleet and force them into an engagement.

“Count stands at thirty ships and counting.”

From the view screen the enemy fleet could be marked out by the bright blue spheres that appeared as their ships exited their jumps. One of the spheres was larger than the rest and Harcrow pointed towards it.

“Enhance image.”

The view screen enlarged that portion of space and the ship came into focus. Several of the bridge staff cast sidelong glances and Harcrow could hear the hushed gasps of several of them as the realization kicked in.

“The Tempest Scion.”

Harcrow said the name of the ship aloud to dismiss the air of confusion circling the bridge. He knew it would replace the confusion with a measured degree of fear but he needed his men focused rather than jumping at the unknown.

“Not pulling any punches this time are they?”

Harcrow looked over his shoulder to see his second in command standing behind him. Rear Admiral Terzo Nucci was one not to show concern openly, but Harcrow could sense his unease growing upon laying eyes upon that ship which had decimated an entire Terran fleet by itself. What’s more the number of enemy ship icons was continuing to rise. By Harcrow’s count they were well over a hundred ships now and still counting.

“Open a fleet wide channel.” Harcrow addressed his communications officer.

The crewman nodded and quickly relayed the orders to the radio operators who set about connecting to every ship in the gathered fleet.

“Brave sailors and marines of the 17th Fleet, this is Admiral Maddox Harcrow.”

“Our quarry of these last rotations now stands before us. They outnumber us now 3:1 and are being led by none other than the Tempest Scion itself.”

From the corner of his eye Harcrow could see a concerning look flash across Nucci’s face as he wondered if his commander had finally dropped off the deep end.

“Normally this show of force would kowtow any other foe into surrender; but we are made of sterner stuff, for we are the 17th fleet!”

Harcrow’s voice rose an octave as his chest swelled with pride.

“All this motley display of power shows is that our enemies are afraid! Afraid to face us without overwhelming numbers, afraid to face us unless led by their most powerful ship at the front, afraid to face us unless absolutely necessary!”

“They will throw themselves against us like rabid dogs in the vain hope of victory only to be greeted by the roar of our guns and the heat of our engines as our ships pass over their lifeless husks!”

From the view screen came flashing red lights as the scanners detected the enemy fleets cannons powering up. The bridge crew were torn between watching their Admiral and manning their stations. Unphased by this opening act, Harcrow seemed to only delight in it.

“See now! See their sense of tactics washed away by their desperate need for survival! Come, my brave sailors! This shall not be a battle of our peers, but a slaughter of our inferiors!”

“All weapons, FIRE!”

[republicsecurity]

Training Log, Subvocal Capture: Collar Edition

Flex fingers. Polymer gauntlet creaks like fresh snow. Collar’s alloy rim is a cold halo in my palm—weightless in the suit’s servos, but heavy in implication. LG44E watches me, chin level, pulse thrumming in my visor readout. Training dummy with a heartbeat.

Assess & Approach. One pace to his oblique. My HUD traces escape vectors in faint red wireframe—comically useless; classroom walls, zero exits. Eye‑contact rule nonetheless. His pupils track the collar, not me. Good dog.

Draw Collar. Thumb the latch at my waist; carbon port opens like a stingray’s mouth. Collar unfolds, LEDs dark. Wrist display tags it: MK‑IV / SN‑X72M4C27 / STATUS: ARMED.

Positioning. Segment hinges breathe apart with a silvery hiss. No obstructions; green service LED blinks once—ready to bite.

Placement. Raise, slide, glide. Polymer pads kiss skin below his jaw. He stiffens as the joint clears his occipital ridge.

Gentle Seating. Press inward. Soft thunk—segments flush. I feel the resonance through my glove, like locking a railcar coupler.

Lock‑In. Silver button, thumb pressure. Twin micro‑flares spark left and right, two‑tone chirp in my audio feed. The collar contracts by two millimetres; LG44E’s swallow stalls halfway down his throat.

Verify. I tug. Zero give. HUD pings: LINK VERIFIED.

The UI blossoms: battery 98 %, vitals nominal, muscle‑tension curve spiking then settling. Default output RED – STUN‑HOLD flickers, waiting for a conscience that isn’t coming.

I toggle to BLUE – COMPLIANCE. Motors murmur. LG44E’s shoulders roll back, spine straightens, head pivots toward the northern wall—exactly where the courseware says a compliant detainee should orient.

There it is: the quiet hum of sovereignty. A feedback loop of authority routed through ceramic, alloy, and wet nervous tissue. My glove twitches a command—step forward. Collar relays, his legs obey. Another twitch—kneel. Servo whine, then knees to mat in perfect cadence.

It isn’t pleasure, I tell myself; it’s proof of system integrity. The MK‑IV does what it’s built to do: move muscle, still doubt. But a shadow of a smile ghosts across the corner of my HUD‑reflected lips. Not pleasure—feedback. Positive, precise, absolute.

LG44E’s heart rate steadies. Bio‑Vitals Array likes what it sees: compliance at ≤ 65 bpm. I log the metrics, flag the session complete.

Thumb‑press again—collar blooms open, LEDs wink out. Training manacles released, man inside left blinking, sweat‑slick but unharmed.

Systems checklist scrolls: Collar integrity 100 %. Cadet response within spec. Behavioral override latency 14 ms.

Inside the armour’s hush, I exhale. One more drill closer to graduation, one more proof that control—properly applied—is indistinguishable from peace. ***

LG44E — Neural Debrief Buffer (unfiltered stream)

Neck’s bare. Air‑con bites like January steel. UK90F circles—silent servo hiss, armor lacquer gleaming under institutional fluorescents. The collar in his gauntlet looks absurdly small, like a toy halo machined from night.

Heartbeat tags my eardrums. Stay still, keep breathing. Training drill, they said. Easy. Then the hinge flares wide and the thing is right there, cool polymer pads brushing skin below my jawline. Reflex: step back. Legs don’t. I told them to. Knees twitch but the rest is statue.

Soft pressure, a click—no pain, yet the world shrinks to a ring of alloy hugging my throat.

TWO‑TONE CONFIRMATION.

Double chirp vibrates skullbone; micro‑flares strobe at periphery. Something deep inside clutches—like the collar has found a loose thread in my spine and pulled.

Chest tightens. I can still breathe, but every swallow feels audited. Hudless—no helmet—so I can’t see what UK90F sees, but I feel it: a thin algorithmic hum skating my muscles.

First command lands like static in marrow. Shoulders snap back, spine locks straight. I didn’t move them. I felt them move. Delay maybe a quarter‑second between his intent and my body’s compliance—enough time to recognize the theft.

Step forward. My boots obey, soles slapping mat, knees articulating with hydraulic precision I never owned. Pulse spikes—collar compensates: a wash of tingling warmth in neck and shoulder, coaxing BPM back toward green.

Kneel. Quads fire autonomously, joints fold. From this angle I see reflection in the training room mirror: me, bald crown bowed, collar glowing calm blue at the larynx. Looks almost serene. Feels like a puppet whose strings hum with electricity.

I try to raise a hand—nothing. Fingers twitch inside gauntlets but forearm stays holstered at thigh plate. Command priority overrides voluntary motor plans; my own impulses relegated to background noise.

Strangest part isn’t terror—it’s clarity. Thought floats free when flesh is requisitioned. Like being spectator and exhibit simultaneously. UK90F logs vitals; I register the soft tap of his gloves on HUD keys somewhere above me.

Then release—silver latch, collar breathes open, gravity returns. Arms mine again, heavy, sweat‑slick inside poly‑mesh. I’m upright, but a phantom echo lingers: the afterimage of borrowed motion.

Conclusion: the MK‑IV doesn’t just restrain—it edits. Body as executable code, collar as root access. Training memo said “Compliance through technology.” Understatement. It’s compliance through repurposed will.

I flex fingers—still shaking. Not fear, exactly. More like awareness of permissions that can be revoked at the press of a thumb. And the knowledge that next time, the commands might not end at kneel.

[wearebarca]

1. Captured // Alexia Putellas x Original character

Part 1 part 2 part 3

synopsis: Rosalie has never stayed too long at the same place. When the opportunity of a lifetime presents itself critical moment in her life, the photographer decides to once again leave behind what she knows and joins the staff of Europe's best football team.

word count: 3,5K

18 + (eventually)

A/N: Hello, Spanish is from google translate so please be nice. French is my first language so all should be good on that part. Enjoy.

Her fingers were hovering over the multitudes of cameras lined up in the bookcase of her small living room. The balcony doors were opened and the cool night air filtered in the little apartment, along with the chants and cheers of the sea of supporters passing in the streets below. Nights like these had quickly become her favourite since moving to the heart of Barcelona. She would usually sit on the balcony and watch as the supporters would celebrate their club's win, filling the night air with happiness and excitement but tonight was slightly different though. An important match was currently being disputed at the Johan Cruyff Estadi, one that all the Barcelona Femini fans were looking forward to all year. El Classico was always an electric night and Rosalie had decided to experience this night out in the streets, instead of the comfort of her balcony chair.

Once out in the streets, She was immediately hit by a wave of excitement. She was instantly  swept in a sea of chanting people, all wearing jerseys and scarves with their team's logo. The crowd was so dense that all you could see were flashes of red and blue making the task of focusing on one subject a difficult one. She finally managed to exit the crowd and find a bench near a bus stop, high enough to have a clear view of the scene unfolding in front of her. This new vantage point allowed you to take numerous portraits of fans, capturing groups of friends in the middle of drunken laughs and barça chants. She instantly knew when the final whistle was blown and Barcelona had won the match. Excited screams could be heard all around and the ground was slightly shaking from the people jumping around in an ecstatic frenzy. Rosalie lowered her camera and took a moment to soak it all in. These were the moments that reminded her of why she had chosen sports photography as her career. This feeling of unity between fans, the shared excitement and hope as well as the solidarity displayed among the supporters even during darker times. Sports was something that brought people together, made them temporarily forget about their lives. She considered herself lucky to have a job that allowed her to capture such moments. 

Once back in the safety of her apartment, she plugged her camera to her computer and while the shots she took were transferring into her laptop. She pulled out the wine bottle that was already opened and sat on her couch. Next to her was a pile of clothes that consisted of her vintage oversized brown leather jacket, a tight black t-shirt and dark brown pleated pants. She had specifically picked out this outfit for her first day in her new job. Her camera bag sat next to the pile, only her laptop missing. Everything was ready, perfectly organized, almost obsessively. The stress of this new beginning was keeping her up which led the young woman to work on the shots she had taken during the night until she fell asleep in her living room. 

The drive to the training stadium wasn’t too long. She had left incredibly early to avoid traffic and ended up parking her car at the stadium and walking around the block. It wasn’t long until she stumbled upon a small cafe, not too far from the training center. The place looked cosy and inviting with all the plants and the picture frames. Upon a closer look, she noticed that they were all pictures of what she guest was regulars enjoying their coffees. The thought of so much history hanging on these walls made the French-Canadian smile as she went to stand in line to order. 

 Her Spanish was rather shaky which made the barista and the woman behind her chuckle lightly. But nonetheless she managed to order and pay without going completely red from embarrassment.  

“Americano para Rosalie” The french name sounds so foreign when spoken in the language and Rosalie almost felt bad for the barista and made a note to herself to use her spanish nickname when ordering in the future. 

 She picked up her coffee and as she was turning around to exit the small shop, her body collided with a solid one, making her spill half of her own coffee on herself. 

“oh Déu, ho sento, estàs bé?”

A tattooed had grabbed her elbow in an attempt to stabilize her, but the damage was done. The cup that was previously secured in her hand had spilled more than half of its content on her shirt and bag.  the tattooed woman turn to her partner “ Ingrid can you grab napkins please” 

She immediately took the napkins that were handed to her and started to dab at her bag in an attempt to prevent the liquid from seeping in and mess with her equipment. Busy trying to dry the coffee that had fallen on her work bag, Rosalie had failed to notice who exactly had bumped into her, but the names mentioned during her short encounter were oddly familiar. “ Are you ok? Did any get in your bag?” A tall dark haired woman was standing right in front of you with a worried smile and Rosalie could not believe her luck. She simply shook her head and smiled at the Norwegian while throwing the napkins away. 

“ I’m Ingrid, we’re very sorry about this, Maria’s a little clumsy.” She laughed at her own statement, knowing very well that “ a little” was a bit of an understatement. 

“ It’s ok, I can’t say that I was really looking where I was going” Rosalie said as she followed Ingrid outside the cafe to a small table near the entrance.  The Spanish woman exited the shop shortly after them with a tray with four cups of coffee. 

“ Asked the barista for your order, here you go.” The Spanish woman said with an apologetic smile on her lips. 

“ Thank you, you didn’t have to do that”

“ It was only fair since this one can’t be bothered to be aware of the world around her” she said, giving a playful glare to her partner. 

“ I’m Mapi, .” . 

“Oh I know who you are,” she said with a smile on her face. She wasn’t new to the football world, having played all the way to her college years. After graduation, she had gotten herself a job as an assistant photographer in  the  NWSL in America. She had travelled all around the United-States and became one of the best known sports photographers. Three years into the job, Rosalie received a call that would change her career forever.

Arsenal W.F.C was desperately looking to revamp its image and put the club on the map. Management had come across some of Rosalie’s dynamic shots and had contacted her to offer her a spot in the new media team that would follow the girls around during the season. Seeing this as the opportunity of a lifetime, she moved across the ocean. This was the opportunity of a lifetime and she absolutely loved it. She had built her strongest friendships over there, had fallen even more in love with job and football, but also experienced her most gut wrenching heartbreak. After her breakup, she had stayed with the team to finish her contract and then packed her flat without knowing what she would do next. She knew that going back toArsenal would not be a good idea since she would have to see the face of the woman that had broken her trust everyday, so she gave her notice and left a month to go hiking in Andalucia. It would be during this trip that she would get the call from FC Barcelona Femini. She would accept on the spot and after a quick apartment search she would have all her belongings shipped to her new address and fly straight to Barcelona, without anyone knowing about her new beginning. 

“ Sorry that came out a little strong,  I’m Rosalie Marineau, Barça’s new photographer.” She shook both their hands and started the few blocks walk towards the training facility.

“ Oh it is a pleasure to meet you, we were wondering when the new photographer would start. We were all excited after seeing some of your work with Arsenal, very impressive.” 

“Thank you so much but I should be the one who’s excited, it truly is an honour to work with such a strong and dedicated team Like Barça, I really can’t wait to start.” the woman said with a beaming smile. The walk back to the stadium was filled with conversation about the upcoming season, Rosalie's career and even strayed to her college football career. As the group reached the entrance of the training grounds, a voice made itself heard in the hallway. 

“ustedes chicas llegan tarde” A tall blond was leaning against the wall right next to the locker room door. She was wearing the gray half zip training shirt with matching shorts and her hair loose, fanning over her shoulders. Her arms were crossed, her boots in one hand and a stern expression was plastered on her face. In her mind, there was no way that this woman was not the captain of this team and indeed, a few moments later, Rosalie was standing face to face with Alexia Putellas. 

“ Quince minutos antes no significa tarde, Ale” The sigh that left the Catalonian’s lips was long and the look that came with the sound would make anyone shrink right on the spot. She propped herself up and with even sparing a glance in the direction of the photographer, she turned around and entered the locker room.��

“Maria, you might want to follow her, you don’t want her getting worse.” Ingrid said, pushing her girlfriend towards the same door the blond had previously disappeared in. The Spanish woman let out a sigh of her own before also disappearing into the room. “ Come with me, I’ll show you to the management's office.”

As Rosalie had predicted, her morning was all about paperwork officializing her new position as the head of the photography department. Ingrid ended up staying the whole time and even offered to show her to her new office. The office was located on the second floor of the building, which seemed a lot calmer than the lower level. Upon entering the office, Rosalie was surprised by how spacious the place was. The space was divided into two sections. The first had all the proper equipment at her disposal to hold photoshoots. Everything was brand new and of the highest quality, with some of the equipment still wrapped in their boxes. The second was closest to the windows, which gave a perfect view of the pitch, and was  half hidden behind screens to give the feeling of being in a completely different room. A desk with two large screens and a laptop launchpad, a comfortable looking chair and a small sofa occupied the space. 

A big smile was playing on Rosalie’s lips as she took in the space she would now work in. “ I hope you will feel right at home here.” Jonatan ​​Giràldez said as he came to stand beside the photographer. “ You can set up if you’d like, I’ll send someone to collect you so you can meet the team before lunch.” He said, once again extending his hand for her to shake. “ Welcome to the family, Senorita Marineau.” 

After a quick hug from Ingrid and a promise to talk more later, Rosalie pulled out her laptop and took a seat at her new desk. Looking out at the pitch she found the two women she was hoping to see. During her contract with Arsenal, she was asked to follow some of the players to the Lionesses camp to capture their journey. That’s where she had met her closest friends. When she met Keira Walsh, it was like something in the universe clicked. The rest of the England squad used to joke that the two of them were the same person but in different fonts, and they might as well have been right. The two women had the same awkward sense of humour and were able to guest what the other needed or wanted with having to express anything. 

Upon meeting the younger French-Canadian woman, Lucy Bronze had immediately felt a strong feeling of protectiveness. This feeling grew even more when one night the Canadian woman had shared with their small friend group that she wasn’t close to her family.  Maybe it was because she knew that the girl had nobody to count on, in England or even in her home country, but the woman started to treat the younger brunette like she was part of her family. She was like a big sister to Rosalie and loved the girl fiercely. The couple had become Rosalie’s family during her years in London, but the distance made it hard for them to see each other outside of camps. Still the girls kept in touch regularly and had facetime movie nights on a weekly basis. They were in fact the first ones Rosalie had told about her move, and she would be lying if one of the big reasons why she accepted so fast was because she knew her two best friends were playing for this team. 

Setting up her stuff wasn’t long. She had brought a few picture frames, mainly pictures of her, Lucy and Keira, of her, Beth, Viv, Leah and Lia, her closest Arsenal friends, that she put on her desk and plugged her camera and laptop to the screens. She still had about an hour and a half before lunch so she decided to finish editing the pictures from the night before. 

She knew someone was making their way towards her office just by the sound of football boots on the hard floors. Still, too engrossed in her work, Rosalie did not lift her head until a very familiar voice spoke. 

“You know, if you missed us this much, you could’ve called instead of stalking us all the way here.” She could recognize that strong northern accent anywhere. Leaning against her door frame, in the same training kit that Alexia was wearing, Lucy was smiling brightly at her friend. The smile on Rosalie’s face lit up the whole room and warmed up the English woman’s heart. It had been a while since she had seen her friend with a genuine smile on her face. She almost tumbled over trying to catch the smaller woman who had jumped in her arms. 

“Shouldn’t you be training?” A quick look behind her showed the pitch empty. 

“Everyone is in the gym, we figured we’d come get you to meet everyone now.” She said dragging the girl out of her office.

“Wait a minute,” she made a beeline to her office to grab the usb key containing the picture she wanted to give the media team and followed the woman out in the corridor. 

“How are you settling here? You know, we feel bad about not helping you move.” Rosalie understood perfectly well why Keira and Lucy weren’t able to come give her a hand. With the away games, training and media duty, the women were swarmed and didn’t get a minute to themselves. Still, the lack of extra pairs of arms and someone to push her meant that a lot of boxes remained untouched. 

“Don’t worry, I’m good.” She said with a small smile. By the look the older woman was giving her, Rosalie knew that her little lie didn’t go through. But Lucy chose to drop the subject knowing that pestering her friend was not the way to go in this situation. 

“I'll show you around the training center but first, everyone is in the gym so we can start there.” She said walking ahead of the brunette. “ The trainers wanted you to know that you have access to it whenever you want and if you'd like they can help you with your training.” 

“ What do you mean?” The French-Canadian was confused as she caught up with the taller woman. 

“ Well… when the news of your arrival came out, people started to ask questions. They found out who you were through management and they apparently told the girls to talk to us because we knew you.” Lucy said in an apologetic tone. She knew that even though her friend was well known in her field, she liked to keep her life private. “ We didn’t say much, don't worry, but we have some grade A stalkers in this team.” 

“ Oh mon dieu ,what did they find?” The brunette said, hiding her face behind her hands. She didn’t have anything crazy on her social media, but she did have a couple pictures from her college football career that looked a little weird along with some pictures of her races, triathlons and marathons that were surely not her best angles. 

“ Everything darling,” Lucy said laughing, “ They especially loved the beach pictures and the triathlon ones, you made quite the impression, Frenchy.” 

The girl could not be more mortified. Those pictures were not bad. In fact, she was quite proud of them, but it was the fact that the whole team had seen her in her bikini or dying during a race before actually meeting her. She simply wasn’t a fan of the fact that they knew so much already.  But then, it was only fair, she thought, since their whole lives were plastered in tabloïds and discussed in social media all the time. The difference was that the photographer had never been in their position.

Lucy chose this exact moment to open the door leading to the gym and Rosalie’s ears were instantly flooded with rapid spanish banter and that freshly cut grass smell that she loved. The room was extremely bright due to the fact that it had direct access to the pitch, which meant that a slight breeze from the outside kept the gym cool and fresh. Almost every station was occupied by players, sometimes alone, but mostly in pairs. The first one to notice their arrival was none other than Mapi, who was helping a certain captain keeping her balance on a platform. She waved excitedly which caused the blond to lose balance and almost fall to her face. The look she sent the Zaragozian would have scared anyone in their right mind. When she realized that her look didn’t get the reaction it deserved she turned her gaze to the source of her training partner’s distraction,  only to lock eyes with the photographer. 

The contact didn’t not last long since the commotion had caught everyone’s attention. They quickly formed a half circle around the girl, seemingly waiting for her to say a few words. 

“ hola,” Rosalie wasn’t a shy person but she was definitely intimidated by the women in front of her. A smile from the couple that she had met in the morning was the little push she needed to continue. “ My name is Rosalie Marineau and I am Barça’s new head photographer. I am very excited to work with all of you. " she said smiling "Don’t worry, I’ll always get your best angle.” 

Smiles filled the room and everyone stepped forward to introduce themselves. The first to reach the woman was Mariona who shook her hand and welcomed her. Next were Patri and Pina who both looked like over excited children. They both gave the girl hugs and started to ask different questions only to be pulled away by Irene and Aitana. The taller woman had a warm smile and a very calm demeanor that instantly made Rosalie feel at ease with her. The smaller woman pulled her in a hug and asked her about her  move and how she was settling in this new city.  

A voice she knew all too well interrupted the conversation and arms wrapped around the photographer from behind. As soon as she smelled the familiar perfume, the Canadian spun around and wrapped her arms around her best friend. “ Hello Frenchy''

Keira didn’t let go of the woman and gave an apologetic smile to the two Spanish players who smiled and left, understanding that this was a private reunion. “ I had to fight Lucy to go get you but the old hag still has some spunk in her.” 

The comment made Rosalie laugh and pull away without letting go completely of her friend. At this moment, Lucy arrived next to the blond and gave her a small shove. “ I heard that.”

A few other players came to introduce themselves but Keira and Lucy stayed by the brunette’s side. When the last of the girls left, the photographer turned to her friends only to see them looking over her shoulders. 

“ Hola, I don’t think we have been introduced” 

The photographer turned around swiftly only to freeze on the spot at the woman before her. Words seemed to escape her as her lips parted but no words came out. Alexia Putellas was a woman with a commanding presence and piercing eyes. She towered over the photographer by a few inches  and even with a polite smile on her face, she held herself with a confidence that would make anyone shrink beside her. A sharp elbow in her ribs shook up the girl and prompted her to finally speak.

“ Oui, Bonjour mademoiselle,”

[izzabela]

There's a First Time for Everything - Lin Kuei Siblings x fem!reader (scenario fic)

in which Tomas, Kuai Liang, and Bi Han give you their first kiss

a/n: so an anonymous requested the Lin Kuei family trying pda/first kiss, but my tumblr buggin hella, so i can't find the actual anon request. IF YOU REQUESTED THIS TROPE PLEASE SEND A DM BECAUSE I WANT TO TELL YOU THAT YOU. ARE. SEEN. also big thanks to anon for being my first ever request.

ship[s]: kuai liang, tomas, bi han x fem!reader (separate)

warning(s): pre-betrayal, consider yourself an opp if you hate fluff

Kuai Liang

The winter festival near the Lin Kuei Palace had wrapped up, and everyone was gathering in the field for the final fireworks display provided by the village. While the many families, couples, and festival-goers were heading to the field, Kuai Liang was leading you somewhere else.

"By the elder gods," you managed to muster out your chattering teeth, "I'll turn into a popsicle up here!"

Kuai Liang turned back at you and saw you clutching onto the fur pelt he gave you to fight the freeze. He smiled sheepishly and went by your side, taking your shoulders with both hands and lead you up the path. His hands were warmer than usual, and you figured he turned his powers on for you.

"I'm sorry, my love, but we're almost there," he said apologetically, kissing your cheek, "Hold on for me just a little bit longer?"

You rolled your eyes, but gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, "If you say so, love."

You and Kuai Liang have been dating for a couple of weeks now, but it honestly looked like two high schoolers dating more than two adults. Being raised in the environment like the Lin Kuei already left little room for a personal life, let alone a girlfriend! Besides, as second-in-command to his brother, Bi Han, he had very little interaction with women. I mean, there was Frost? But she, like the other female initiates, were training equally as hard as the men.

Kuai Liang had the basics of intimacy and PDA: quick kisses on the cheek, forehead, and hand were the only weapons he had on him. It was cute to see him learn new things about casual intimacy displays of affection, and even cuter to see him flush bright red when he tried them out on you. What was coming next, though, was something you did not expect at all.

Kuai Liang had led you to a beautiful Chinese Pistache tree, covered in frost and snow, overlooking the entire village and the field where the fireworks were going to happen. The sun was still peeking beyond the horizon, ad you could see the light reflect off the frozen pieces of the tree, giving the tree a natural glimmer.

Underneath, there was a seat for the both of you, a pit for fire right in front. Kuai Liang used his magic to set it alight, the fire warming up for both of you. Although you were warmed by Kuai Liang's magic, love had overflowed your heart at the sentiment.

"Okay, this is pretty good," you smirked, turning to him and giving him a soft smile, "This is wonderful. Thank you."

He nodded and led you over to the seat before the fireworks started. As you two waited, you were talking about the amazing day spent: winning cheap festival prizes, trying all the food from the vendors, even talking about how you two saw members of his family around the festival. Your mindless chatter was interrupted when the first boom went off, signifying the fireworks had started.

With the sun's final remnants of brightness gone, the stars and explosives were the only light against the darkness of the sky. The night sky became a canvas for pretty hues of blue, white, purple, and other colors representing winter. The exploded in shapes of snowflakes, mittens, and other iconic images of winter. You watched the show with your mouth slightly open, in awe of the show.

"Beautiful.." you murmured quietly, "Don't you think so, Kuai Lia...ng?"

When you turned to Kuai Liang, all his focus was on you, not the light display. His eyes stared deep into yours, making you turn pink from all the attention. He looked... lost in your colored orbs, and he definitely did not want to be found

"Yes, it is indeed a beautiful display," he said, a warm smile on his face.

His hand reached for your cheek, stroking it lightly with his thumb. His other hand took the hand you rest in your lap, still trying to keep you warm. However, your heart's pace was going so fast it might have been your personal heat generator. You realized he was slowly leaning in, eyes half-lidded as he was getting closer and closer to your lips.

You closed your eyes and waited for him to close the gap. When he did, your heart exploded with its own fireworks. His lips were warm on yours, and the kiss was filled with desire and longing, as if he'd waited for this moment his entire life. You pulled him closer, your arms flinging over his shoulders, and his hand tilting your face to allow for more room to deepen the kiss. Both of you were fired up, and not due to the warmth Kuai Liang provided with his magic.

When Kuai Liang separated from you, his eyes were glossed with love and euphoria, finally kissing his girlfriend for real. Yours were too, although there was a bit of pride in them since Kuai Liang had initiated it first. You moved one of your hands to his cheek, mimicking the same thing he did to your face as you spoke.

"That was amazing, my love. Where did you learn to do that?" You asked.

He chuckles, a shit-eating grin on his face as he puffed his chest up with a bit of pride.

"The Lin Kuei's secrets are not meant to be shared, love."

You gently shoved his chest, huffing at his response. Although, you had your own arsenal of teasing jabs.

"Well, for a guy who grew up without interacting with women, you fared pretty well."

He tilted his head, this time a smirk of knowing on his face as he brought your face close to his once more.

"Get over here," he said as he closed the distance.

You had more jabs for him, but they were ineffective against this deadly finisher of a move. Still, your mouth welcomed his as you both connected once more, the firework show being nothing but background noise for your guys' moment.

=====================

Tomas

"Boy, were you hungry..." Tomas said wearily as he looked at the bill.

A little burp escaped your mouth, covering it with your hand and offering an "excuse me" to lighten the embarrassment. Regardless, he ruffled your hair and paid the bill without worry.

"I can't help but agree with the sentiment," Kitana said, "The food was indeed delicious."

You, Tomas, Kitana, and Raiden had finished dinner at Madam Bo's in Fengjian, a double date insinuated by Raiden. During a mission to Outworld, he had the courage to ask Kitana out to dinner. However, he was just a bit nervous dining alone with her, so he sent a letter to you and Tomas to come and ease his worries.

The entire night, the four of you enjoyed casual conversation and updated each other on the affairs of your lives. Kitana had been promoted to Supreme Commander of the Imperial Army, Raiden had become an elite monk, teacher, and member to the White Lotus, and Tomas shared updates on his brothers and the Lin Kuei (the updates he was allowed to share, anyways).

You, on the other hand, were a simple villager farmer in Fengjian, which translates to boring. As boring and plain as white rice.

Even so, Tomas made sure to make you feel included. He always mentioned the little anecdotes you told him, asked about your family, and even made sure you and Kitana had stuff to talk about. He knew you were intimidated by her aura, but by the end of the night, she was just another girl (only a princess-warrior to a semi-immortal race).

"You must write to me, my friend," Kitana addressed you as you walked out the restaurant, "It has been too long since another acquaintance as entered my life."

You blushed at her praise and honor, "Of course, your highness! I would love to write to you!"

You and Tomas bade farewell to the other couple, Raiden walking with Kitana before seeing her off to a nearby portal. Hand in hand, you two walked together and enjoyed the quiet night in Fengjian. The casual buzz of June-bugs, flutter of dragonflies, and the light breeze that shook the trees gently filled both of you with peace.

You clung onto Tomas's large arm, nuzzling your face into his beefy bicep. His walk becomes more stiff, this display of affection getting into his heart and head.

While Tomas may be the more affectionate one of his brothers, it still surprised you that things like this flustered him. To be fair, he grew up orphaned from his mother and sister. Thankfully, he was taken in by Kuai Liang and Bi Han, but learning the ways of assassins and growing up with brothers left him very little time to engage with others of the opposite sex.

When you and Tomas were out, PDA was as foreign to him as him growing up in the Lin Kuei. Of course, he welcomed all the innocent brushes of your hands, the little kisses you blew at him, even you holding his hand. It was cute watching him turn beet red, and you always imagined him going back to his home with a love-struck face.

As you two walked, you noted how Tomas was leading a little ways away from the village. Gone were the little wooden houses and loose streetlights, ahead of you two were fields of tall grass and fireflies. Just a bit more walking, and Tomas stopped in the middle of the path.

"Where to now, darling?" you asked.

He simply smiled and walked behind you, covering your eyes and began leading you. You were surprised, but you trusted him and allowed him to guide your body.

"Lin Kuei secrets, my dear. Allow me to escort you, though," he said cheekily.

You heard the brush of the tall grass and the slight mush of the dirt below you. From your ears, you could hear the soft rustle of a tree, and the gentle flow of a small stream. When Tomas's hands were moved, the sight left you breathless.

Madam Bo's teahouse stood at the center of the scene, the houses were lit up and you could see the figures of your people enjoying the evening. You noticed the tree and its long branches stooping over, and you look up to be greeted with the most beautiful Weeping Willow tree in your life. What made it better was the fireflies that blinked their lights, like a personal light display.

A huge, beaming smile was plastered on your face as you began dancing underneath the bugs, watching them scatter and blink. You swung your body around in twirls and pirouettes, enjoying the place Tomas set you up with. He, too, was enjoying the place he brought you. Watching you spin around in pure joy, he decided to join you. He took your hands and danced with you, accompanying you as your dance partner.

After on final spin, he made sure you faced him. With both of your hands in his, you had nowhere else to go or look. He let go from on of your hands and brought it up to the back of your head. He gently brought your forehead closer to him, and he leaned down just a bit to make sure his connected with yours. You could feel his exasperated breath on yours, and you realized there was something else coming after this.

"May I kiss you, darling?" he asked gently.

You nodded shyly and felt Tomas's lips attack yours. You knew that before Lin Kuei, he was a hunter, and his kiss was proof. Sure, this was his first, but there was a primal hunger in it, the urge to have you for himself. His hand down in your other hand moved to your back, pulling you closer to his chest. He dove deeper into your mouth, loving every taste of you.

When he parted from you, he looked breathless and exhausted, yet his eyes longed for more of you. He held back, though, and fixed your hair before resting his hands on your face.

"Did I do well, darling? Was it good for you?" He asked (a little too quickly).

You giggled and rubbed his face gently, "Of course! For someone like you, I'm surprised you pulled this off."

You laughed, but his pout took your joy away momentarily. You frowned a bit and sighed a bit, apologizing.

"I'm sorry, honey, I didn't mean to tease you too hard. I was just-." You were interrupted with another kiss from him.

You giggled and welcomed it, wrapping your arms around his shoulder as he wrapped his around your waist.

It seems that the "King of Smoke" is nothing but a puff in your arms.

=====================

Bi Han

You two walked side by side, silently strolling around the compound-palace as the snow fell. You two were the only ones up at this time of night, minus the guards up in the towers.

As grandmaster, Bi Han had very little time for personal matters. Other than his immediate family and his clan, he was so sure nothing would put him away from his goals. He grew up with the most pressure on his shoulders, reminded that his inheritance would be worth more than gold. Of course, that should have left him with practically zero percent chance of interacting with women- until he met you.

You and Bi Han have been dating for a couple of weeks now, and it has been nothing but enjoyable. Although gruff and strict, he did his best to reel it back for you, especially with your PDA and innocent intimacy. It felt surreal, different, but not unwelcome, and allowed you to do what you wanted with him.

Sometimes, when you held his hand, his magic would affect him and create a very thin barrier of frost in his hand. While it was chilly, he worked on it for you so that you could enjoy normal couple things. There were similar moments when you massaged his head while you two cuddled, any objects in his hand becoming frozen immediately. Sometimes, he worries in hurting you and always asked you if you were alright, even if you told him multiple times you were okay.

You concluded that any time you showed affection to him, his "embarrassment" would come through in the form of ice. It was cute, in a way- dare you say wholesome.

Anyways, as you two walked, you decided to sneakily link your hand with his. In surprise, Bi Han had frozen in place, looking at you with an incredulous look of bewilderment. You smiled at him and watched him turn away, but he couldn't hide the pink that colored the edge of his ear.

"You're blushing, my dear~" you teased, "Why won't you look at me?"

He huffed, "Your games are useless, woman. Let us keep walking."

You chuckled and let him lead the way, his hand in yours as he led you past a couple more corridors and hallways. You were a bit nervous, since these parts of the compound were alien to you.

"Where are we going, dear?" you asked nervously, "I have never seen these parts before..."

You didn't finish your sentence due to the sight in front of you. A beautiful Wisteria tree stood in the middle of a pond, and smooth stone seating was underneath. There was a walkway that lead to the seating, and beautiful flora and shrubbery lined the path. The snowfall added a fantastical touch, this entire hidden garden area something out of a movie.

"No one, besides my family and Tomas, has ever seen this part of the compound," Bi Han explained softly, the natural gruff of his voice still lingering, "This garden area was built for my mother per request of my father."

"It's so beautiful," you breathed, following the path and reaching for a flower, "How can you maintain the flowers life here?"

Bi Han sighs, a rare smile on his face, "I personally see the care to each of the flowers and greenery in here. I coat each one in a layer of frost for the especially colder seasons."

Bi Han follows you as you walked the path leading to the seating. He watches you gently touching each plant, smiling at how well taken care they were. It was a rare sense of softness Bi Han felt. He offers his arm to you and you link your arm in his, escorting you the rest of the way.

"Thank you, my dear, for showing me such vulnerability," you said whole-heartedly as you walked.

Bi Han looks at you and nods, a little smile on his face, "I believe you were deserving of such a place. You are always welcome in the Lin Kuei, especially here."

When you both reached the center, he sat down on one of the stone seats, to which you took the opportunity to surprise him and sit on his lap. Locking eyes with him, his turned wide before turning away, pink lining the edge of his ears once again.

"Enough of your surprises, woman," he huffed out. However, he gently snaked his arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

You smiled and held his face in your hands and gently moved his face to yours. You gave a quick kiss to his forehead, a form of "thank you" to him. You noted that his eyes held gentility, rare softness, and love for you. His eyes slowly closed as he leaned into you, one of his hands supporting your head.

By the elder gods, he was going to kiss you.

Closing your eyes, you felt the cryomancer's slightly chilled lips on yours. Despite this, you had never felt warmer. Bi Han kissed you with ferocity, afraid that your very being would dissipate if he let go of you or your lips for a split second. The grip around your waist tightened just a bit, and you allowed it by throwing your hands around his shoulders and pulling him even closer (if that was possible).

When Bi Han split from you, his gaze was kept on you, his hand moving from the back of your head to your face. He fixes your hair and cups your cheek, a soft smile on his face as he teases you.

"How was that for a first time?" he mocked you playfully.

Your voice dripped with teasing, "Good, I guess, for the grandmaster of the Lin Kuei."

You were taken by surprise when he kissed you again, a little rougher this time.

He didn't care though, if it meant having you for longer in the privacy of this garden, shrouded in frost and snow.

=====================

i read the original request multiple times to make sure i could ace this, and i hope you enjoyed anon. ONCE AGAIN THANK YOU SO MUCH ANON FOR BEING MY FIRST EVER REQUEST. PLEASE SEND ME A DM OR ANOTHER REQUEST SO I CAN SHOW MY OWN AFFECTIONS TO YOU.

okay enough glazing. thank you guys so much for reading and i'll see you all in the next fic!

[guardian-of-fun-times]

The soft crunch of snow beneath your boots filled the air as you made your way toward North’s workshop. The morning sunlight reflected off the frost-covered windows, making the entire building glisten like a treasure chest buried in an arctic dream. You adjusted the hem of your red velvet dress nervously, feeling the luxurious fabric sway with each step. The dress was fitted at the bodice, with intricate golden embroidery spiraling down like frost patterns on a windowpane. A delicate white blouse peeked out from beneath the sleeveless gown, its high lace collar and ruffled cuffs adding an elegant touch.

A gold sash trimmed with shimmering thread wrapped around my waist, cinching the dress perfectly. My pearl bracelets jingled softly as you shifted the cape draped over your shoulders — a deep crimson velvet lined with plush white fur. It flowed behind you like a regal train, brushing the snow-dusted ground.

On your head rested a golden flower crown adorned with tiny, frosted leaves, glimmering under the pale winter sun. A few pearl ornaments dangled from the crown, catching the light with every movement. You tucked a loose curl of hair behind one of your pointed elf ears, still adjusting to how Jack insisted on them for the “look.”

Your gloves, white as fresh snow, were embroidered with tiny golden stars at the cuffs, and the boots you wore matched perfectly — laced up the front with golden ribbon. You felt as if you'd walked straight out of one of North’s storybooks.

"Perfect for the occasion." Jack had said when he handed me the outfit the day before, his eyes glinting with devilry. I should have known better than to trust him.

As you stepped inside, the scent of pine and cinnamon wrapped around you like a warm hug. The workshop was bustling with activity, elves darting around with rolls of wrapping paper, and yetis carefully placing ornaments on towering Christmas trees. I spotted North near the center, his booming laughter echoing as he gave directions to his crew. Jack was nowhere in sight.

"Ah, there you are!" North greeted, his smile as bright as the twinkling lights above. "Jack said you'd be coming. He’s… somewhere. Likely up to no good." His chuckle hinted at an amused exasperation only someone used to Jack’s antics could muster.

You barely had time to respond when a familiar chill swept past you, and Jack materialized out of thin air, his signature smirk firmly in place. "You made it!" He exclaimed, his crystal blue eyes sparkling with rascality. "And look at you! Absolutely perfect!" He swung to lean on his staff, cocking his head to the side in admiration.

You glimpsed down at your outfit, then back at him. "What is this all for?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.

Jack only grinned wider. "You'll see."

He led you further into the workshop, weaving between workbenches and stacks of presents. You noticed the elves were unusually giggly, whispering and pointing as we passed. Suspicion started to creep in, but Jack’s enthusiasm was contagious, and you found yourself relaxing despite your better judgment.

Finally, we reached a clearing near the center of the workshop, where a large circle of garland and fairy lights had been arranged. Suspended above it was the most elaborate display of mistletoe I had ever seen. There were at least twenty sprigs, all hanging at different heights, with tiny bells attached that jingled softly as they swayed.

"Jack..." You said slowly, crossing your arms. "What is this?"

He tried to look innocent — unsuccessfully. "Oh, just a little festive fun. You know, holiday spirit and all that."

Before you could respond, a troublesome gust of wind swept through the room, pushing you gently but firmly under the mistletoe. Jack followed; hands clasped behind his back as he hovered just close enough to make your cheeks flush a soft rose.

"Jack!" You scoffed, glancing around. The elves were peeking out from behind corners, barely containing their laughter, and even North was watching from a distance, shaking his head with a grin.

"Relax." Jack said, his voice low and teasing. "It's just a harmless tradition. Besides, it’s not my fault the mistletoe decided to… encourage things."

You peeked up, realizing the mistletoe was now glowing faintly. Jack’s magic, no doubt.

"Encourage things?" You repeated, your tone incredulous.

He shrugged, leaning in just enough to make your heart race. "Well, you’re here, I’m here, and the mistletoe has already made up its mind. Might as well not disappoint it."

The room erupted in laughter and cheers as Jack pressed a quick, playful kiss to my lips, his breath cool against your skin. Your face burned, and you swatted at him in embarrassment, but he only laughed, his joy as bright as the frost-covered decorations around us.

"You're impossible!" You muttered, though you couldn't stop the smile tugging at your lips.

"And you love it!" He shot back, winking before taking your hand. "Now, come on. I’ve got more surprises waiting. Just… maybe watch out for any more mistletoe. You never know where it might show up."

As Jack led you away, the air behind us shimmered faintly, and a warm golden glow filled the workshop. I turned just in time to see Toothiana fluttering in, her iridescent wings catching the light like the finest stained glass.

"Jack!" She scolded as she landed beside North, crossing her arms and fixing him with a pointed stare. "What did you do this time?"

North laughed heartily. "You just missed it, Tooth! Mistletoe mayhem, as always. Jack’s specialty!"

Toothiana rolled her eyes but smiled at me warmly. "You look absolutely lovely, dear." She said, admiring the outfit that Jack had recommended. "Very festive!"

Before you could thank her, the ground trembled slightly, and the sound of hopping echoed through the workshop. Bunny appeared next, his boomerangs strapped to his back and a wreath slung over one arm.

"What's all this racket about?" He inquired, his thick Australian accent cutting through the noise of the workshop. Then his eyes landed on me and Jack. "Ah, let me guess — Frostbite’s up to no good again."

"You know it!" Jack said proudly.

"Figures..." Bunny smirked, rolling his eyes then handing you a small box. "Merry Christmas, mate. Thought you’d like this."

The room was quickly filling with the Guardians. Sandy floated in, sprinkling golden sand that turned into sparkling ornaments mid-air, and even Pitch Black made a rare appearance, staying toward the shadows but nodding in greeting.

The warmth of their presence filled the workshop, and you couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed with joy. Christmas was truly a time of togetherness, and even Jack’s pranks couldn’t dampen the magic of the day.

[tremendouscreationperson]

Bucky x Reader Imagine

He had decided to take himself to a museum that was unlike any others he had been to. He goes to the 'twist' museum early, hoping that there would be less visitors and he was correct.

At the front desk the elderly lady squints her eyes at him and asks "single ticket?" He nods and she goes "most of the illusions need two." Oh. Bucky spends a second working out if it is worth just going in and watching others or if that is creepy and he should leave when she continues on. "But that's okay.. Y/N!"

You walk around the corner, dressed in the same uniform as the older lady except... Well the uniform looks good on you. His eyes scan you (as they would anyone else, as he was trained) and he finds you strikingly attractive.

"Yeah Linda?" You smiled sweetly at the lady, eyes flickering between the two.

"Are you able to help this gentleman through the museum? He's by himself."

You nod, suspicion laced in your slight frown. "Okay, but you'll let me know if you need me back yeah?"

You and Bucky slowly walk through the entrance and through the "no colour" segment. "You're lucky because you don't have to read the info. They use lights that cancel eachother out and display this yellow hue- oh sorry unless you wanted to read the signs."

Bucky shakes his head looking down at his red shirt which was now a monotone yellow, like his jeans and skin. You were dosed in the same yellow but still breathtaking. "I won't say no to a guided tour." He tries to joke.

You smile and lead him to the one zone where one of the four lights turns off - bringing back colour to the world. "Where's your phone?" He hands it over wordlessly. "Right, c'mon handsome give me a smile, in three, two-"

The light turned off and you took a few photos, he didn't really smile for them but that was up to him. You revealed one of the photos and showed that behind him was an array of 'balloons' (they were fake but they looked the part) some of which now had colour to them like his face and shoulders. The rest were blank and yellow.

You were about to lead him away when he stopped you. "Do you not want a photo?"

No of course you don't want a photo, you don't need one, you're here all the time. But his eyes - which you knew to be blue - were gazing into your soul and he adopted a shy smirk. "I guess we could update the website." You stood waiting for him to take the photo smiling and then sticking your tongue out.

Bucky and you walked for ages throughout the museum. It was a brilliant little pop up thing and he really enjoyed the illusions. There was a photo of strawberries he was convinced was red but you told him it was the way his mind worked. He knew they were red in real life when in this picture they were gray-scale. There was another picture on the wall that you had to wear different colours glasses to see the images underneath. Red was his favourite and blue was yours. A lot of not straight looking lines and rulers underneath them sparked a debate between the two of you. Rooms that shone with thousands of colours making you look angelic. Rooms that housed a series of tubes and when one put their head through it, inside was thousands of mirrors. Thousands of himself reflected against the led lights and on the other end you were there laughing at his reaction. You were the prettiest kaleidescope. There was a room where if you stood in one place and he the other you looked humongous and he was tiny (that might've been his favourite photo merely because he looked minuscule). And a room where if you sat on the floor and he stood ten feet forward he could pat your head and it looked like you were tiny sitting on a chair. The "most hi-tech part of the museum" was ball with a chair in. You told him to sit still and pressed a button and the ball lit up snapping photos from every angle. The photos collected to make a 3D image of himself. It turned in a circle but never looked like it was the back of him. His face was always pronounced and always facing forward. He made you do one too. Now you passed that part there were more electronic screens with illusions, a room for sound illusions and more "wonky rooms".

You were heading towards the gift shop and exit when you spoke a small "thank you. Sorry you had to put up with me, Linda is always trying to set me up but this has actually been enjoyable." You blushed. "I only mean sometimes people are weird. And you haven't been. And I'm rambling."

Bucky nodded along, wondering how many people you had to walk through this museum. He doubted it was a lot, but he still felt a strange pang of jealousy. "I hope it's not too weird to ask for your number - I have a few nice pics of you on here." He raised his phone, which had gotten more use in the past hour than it had in the past month. "For your website, of course."

You took his phone with ease and put your number into it. "I have some nice photos of you too, merely for your enjoyment."

You both chuckle and slowly part ways wishing you didn't have to.

.

.

When Bucky showed Steve the photos the other man teased him about looking happy and he was right. Bucky was actually smiling in these photos but it wasnt a wonder as to why.. not when someone so pretty was holding the camera.

.

.

A week later you texted him, unexpectedly.

Y/N: hope you don't mind... I might've used a photo of us on the website

Bucky: What one?

Y/N: the one where I'm massive and you're baby

Bucky: I love that one

Y/N: yeah, I think it's cute

Y/N: but I just wanted to let ya know, yakno?

Bucky: Thank you.

.

.

A week later he texted you, unexpectedly.

Bucky: Saw this and thought of you. (With an attachment of a magic eye poster)

Y/N: omg I love those, but I can hardly ever see them!!!!

Bucky: You work in an illusion museum!

Y/N: ik, it's heartbreaking!

.

.

Y/N: I'm not a massive creep

Bucky: Go on

Y/N: turn to the right

Bucky looked up from his spot in the park. He came here a lot, sitting on the same bench, just to be alone.

There you were. Standing smiling at him with a small wave. You were wearing jeans and a white button up shirt, your hair was tied up neatly and you had sunglasses on.

"hey!" You smirked, taking a seat next to him.

"hi." He replied, still in shock. "How you been?"

"Alright, just came from an interview." You raised your crossed fingers. "Here's hoping."

"You didn't like the museum?"

"I loved it but it's only a pop up." You took the sunglasses off. "It'll be ending next week."

That was a shame. "Where was your interview?"

"The Smithsonian." You folded your legs. "I know I know, one museum to another, what a party animal I am."

He and you fell into an easy conversation which lasted all night. You only stopped because your stomach growled and you sheepishly asked if he was hungry. He would follow you anywhere so of course he was hungry.

[domxmarvel]

Amethyst

Masterlist

Order: 5 

Large lavender Frappuccino with a churro

Vil x Female!Reader-princess reader

As a princess it was your duty to put your kingdom above anything else,which also meant putting your happiness second. But you weren't willing to do that,you weren't willing to live in misery for the rest of your life. That's what led you here,standing at Vil's door. This was the last night you could see him and you didn't want to waste a minute of it,although the thought of never seeing him again made you unable to move. Suddenly the door opened and you stood there face to face with Vil,you could see that his eyes were red and puffy. He quickly pulled you in before you could ask. 

“Vil” 

“Don't,I don't wanna talk about it. I just want you for one more night” He kissed you,your hands cupping his cheeks and feeling his tears hitting your skin. 

"Vil,please take me one last time” He pulled you to his bed,not taking his hands off you. He had undressed you plenty of times so he was capable of doing it without pulling away from your lips. His hands were all over your body like had never touched you before,and you couldn't blame him. His movements were rough,his hands gripped you so tightly leaving his hand prints on your skin. 

“Y/N” He leaned in his lips close to your ear “You’re mine,he’ll never have you”

“Vil” You could feel your eyes water and seconds later you were crying.

“Y/N,did I-I’m sorry I”

“Vil,I want to stay here. I don’t want to leave you” You couldn’t stop crying as he held you close “I know we can’t change anything but please don’t let me think about it for tonight”

“Tonight you won’t think about anything else,I promise” He laid you back down on his bed,trailing kisses as his thrusts started getting more and more intense. 

“Vil”

***

Happiest day wasn’t what you would’ve called it,you were stuck in a room with the one person you couldn’t even stand to look at. In a few moments you would be tied to him until your last breath,your brain was racing trying to think about anything to do to stop this. There was a knock at the door which snapped you out of your thoughts and you rushed to open the door. There stood a maid who you didn’t recognize,mostly due to her face veil which only left her amethyst colored eyes on display. She was holding a tray with a bottle of wine and two glasses. You moved to let her in,she was quiet as she poured one glass and handed it over to him before pouring another and handing it to you.

“Thank you” He hand chugged the whole glass before you even fully wrapped your hand around yours. You didn’t lift your glass as you watched him choke his face turning blue before he fell to the ground. This was over,you turned back. “You look really beautiful like that”

“I won’t let anyone else have you,much less someone who doesn’t deserve you” His hands landed on your hips,pulling you towards him.

“I love you,Vil”

“I love you too” 

[ravenna-reid]

Whiskey, Sultry Tunes & Vigilantes

JASON TODD x JAZZ CLUB SINGER READER

Jason just needs to go to the most famous Jazz club in Gotham to gather intel then quickly leave, but a certain singer makes him stay longer than he anticipated... No warnings <3

I actually rlly like this one so pls lmk if you do too!

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A magnetic violet blanketed the room from the lights that constantly streamed inside of the club, setting a soft, sensual mood. Guests sat before the stage, a few residing along the quiet bar. Subtle discussions and the clinks of scotch and wine glasses simmered in the air, along with the melancholic yet powerful tune that came from the band and their instruments. The sombre cello, the soulful piano, the triumphant trumpet.

And the famous Jazz singer of the club.

The Blue Room’s jewel. 

Sparkling diamonds hung from your ears and adorned your neck. Glistening eyeshadow, slick eyeliner and plump lips. A black silk dress hugged at your body and draped down to the floor, gloves the same colour running up above your elbows complimenting your dress. The wig you wore looked unbelievably real, the cherry red catching glints of the deep purple from the stage lights above as you sung the sultry tune. Men from across the city always came to watch you sing. Voice sweet like honey, smooth like whiskey, strong like thunder. All eyes were trained on you, and people either wanted to be you, or be with you. There was no inbetween.

Jason had merely heard the gossip about the Blue Room. About its perfect blues music and its reputation for the best served scotch and wine.

He’d also heard about the alluring singer that sang there almost every night.

But not being a fan of crowds or anywhere where parties were often thrown, he never went. Until tonight.

“And you’re sure Black Mask and Penguin are conspiring together in the private booths at this club?”

Dick had asked Jason earlier that week as they both went over their limited evidence on the case in the Batcave. 

“No, that’s why I’m going to go investigate.” Jason answered without looking up from the papers sprawled out in front of him. 

“It’d be a shame if it were true,” Dick sighed, “I love that place.”

“Of course you do.” Jason shook his head.

“Can I come?”

“No.”

Leaving the bustling alleyway behind as he entered the club, the atmosphere around him immediately shifted. The rhythm and blues that so often enveloped the club filled his senses instantly. The smell of alcohol and cigarettes, the LED lights that set the mood for the performance, the sound of the band…

And her. 

One gloved hand holding her microphone, the other gently stretching out to the crowd as she lulled them with her song. Her voice, her words, her eyes…

A softness painted her expression, mixed with subtle confidence and a magnifying aura. Elegance. Strength. Heartbreak.

So much emotion in just one song. So much emotion lacing her angelic voice. 

Jason was irrevocably drawn to you. 

The sudden sound of bellowing laughter from a table in front of him drew Jason back into reality. And he was soon reminded that he was there for work, not for entertainment. 

Blood rushing and heart racing – which was actually ridiculous – Jason ignored you and turned down the side of the bar to the more secluded part of the club. Round, mahogany tables that were much larger than the ones before the stage were occupied by couples. The music became more drowned out at that end of the club, more suitable for those who were wanting a romantic date night. Further down though, along the wall and past the bar sat the four private booths. Two were open; a lit bulb in the centre and purple velvet couches on display. But the other two had their curtains drawn.

As Jason crept towards one of the closed booths, his ears fought to listen to your voice. His legs fought to drag him back to the stage. His eyes fought to steal glances of you. Coming to a halt at the first booth, he ripped the curtain back. Two lovers, one on the other's lap, immediately look up at Jason, mortification frozen on their faces. 

“Sorry, wrong booth.” He quickly said before hastily drawing the curtain closed. His cheeks became a rose red as he moved to the next booth. 

Green eyes, so horrifically mesmerised, found their way back to you again as he searched for your figure through the crowd, his eyes following your voice. It was coming to the end of the song, and just as you were hitting the high note, a silence fell over the room as people listened. Giving a subtle shake of his head, he pulled himself back together.

“Come on, Jason.”

Jason was just about to draw the curtain to the second booth open when –

Ears straining to re-hear what he thought he heard, Jason let go of the curtain and looked to his side. Muffled yells could be heard. Past the bar and bathrooms down a dimly lit corridor. A man in an ivory tuxedo, obviously custom made, gripped at the collar of a man in black before him. The man he was grabbing looked fearful as he desperately tried to talk his way out of the situation. But the man in the tuxedo was past practical discussions. He wanted something. And he didn’t want to have to wait any longer. Cheeks a violent red and the hair he had left a dishevelled mess, he finally let go of the man. 

Thunderous applause caught Jason completely off guard as his focus shifted back to you. 

You gave a small, polite bow to the audience, and when you looked back up out into the crowd, your smile instantly gleamed brighter than the lights and jewels that surrounded you. You took the air from Jason’s lungs. 

The band members behind you nodded their heads in appreciation to the crowd. Whistles filled the air alongside the applause. Someone threw a daisy onto the stage. Jason scoffed.

Daisies aren’t nearly pretty enough for her.

Looking back down the corridor to see what the men were doing now, his heart sank when he found they were gone. 

“Shit.”

Ignoring his desire to look back at you one last time, worried you were finished for the night, Jason began down the corridor. Once he reached the end, there were two doors. One that he was sure led to the back of the building where the dumpsters and connecting alleyways sat. Another, however, looked like a small office. Thankfully, the door was slightly open. Jason peered through it to find the one who was just abused by the man in the tuxedo sitting at the desk, head in his hands. Stacks of paper were his only company, alongside framed pictures, certificates and awards for his business, posters of famous singers, and a shimmering gold plaque.

A plaque that read his name.

Jason took a mental note, but his eyes wandered as he wondered where the man in the ivory tuxedo went.

The man in black was sudden in his movement, sending a spike of anxiety through Jason’s chest. He quickly stood from his desk and went through another door in his office; a door that led to the dressing rooms. As Jason listened, he assumed the man was talking to and preparing the other singers that would soon take your place for the remainder of the night. Taking his chance, Jason quickly crept into his office and grabbed a few notes, envelopes, and folders from his desk. Slipping them into his jacket, he was gone in a blink of an eye as the man made his way back into the room. 

But performers were beginning to fill the back area, and Jason had to quickly leave. Walking back down where he came, he opened the back door and stepped outside.

The warm breeze instantly brushed through his raven black hair and against his skin. The dark, Gotham night sky stared down at him from above. Distant sounds of traffic filled the air. It was in no way better than the atmosphere inside of that club, but it was familiar. Comforting. 

Securing the documents he had obtained in the inner pockets of his jacket, Jason was ready to leave until something caught his eye. 

Silky gloved hands ran up and down your arms. Soft cherry red curls swayed against the skin of your back in the wind. 

Jason couldn’t believe it. It was you. It was actually you.

Your eyes were trained on the night sky above, searching for the stars that hid behind the clouds, and although Jason couldn't see your face, he could imagine the serene expression that was painted across it. 

What were you doing out here?

It didn’t matter. What mattered was that he got to see you one last time before he left. And suddenly all thoughts and questions centering around the man in black and the man in the ivory tuxedo vanished like mist.

He soon realised you hadn’t heard him come outside. He continued standing nimbly behind you. Fiddling with his fingers and feet rooted in the ground like trees. Heart beating faster than a hiccup. 

Say something. Say something. Say something. Say something.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone you know.”

Voice so soft, so gentle. You looked over your shoulder up at Jason, your eyes catching the light from the street lamp beside him.

Jason’s breath hitched.

Shit.

Part Two Soon