#Blue/Red LED Display Watch

[wowtech2]

Gosasa Men's Lava Style Stainless Steel Watch Red Blue LED Digital Watch Black Bracelet 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?”

[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

[m1rotics]

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 🙏

[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!”

prev || masterlist || this is the end :). thank you for reading!!

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[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!

[amsgrey]

he just sounds like that

Kaz Brekker x Fem!reader (established relationship)

synopsis: Arrogance has no place on a job, but you let it lower your guard. You pay the price, but Kaz helps bring you back.

I kind of like merging Book/Show Kaz and trying to keep accurate to his mannerisms and humour etc so hopefully this is good. I came about this idea after thinking about this scene from TLOU and how Kaz most definitely had an asshole voice. Also, I will probably make a few parts/drabbles about Kaz x Inferni Reader, because I love Kaz no apologies.

Warnings: Mentions of Slavery, reader reliving her time as a slave (briefly), Mentions of scars of wrists from slavery chains etc, A fumbley understanding of the technology of the time and inferni powers (it's been so long since I read the books)

Getting split from the other crows was distressing, but there was nothing you could do about that now. You and Kaz just had to keep going, trying to work your way back to the rendezvous point.

"Tell me again why you thought this would work," You hissed to Kaz, who had been leading you in a circle for what felt like forever.

Kaz gave you an irritated glare, "It did work."

You scoffed, "Yeah, that's why we're lost in this saints forsaken mansion."

Kaz let out an exasperated sigh, "Are you done?"

You and Kaz had known each other for years, the entire time you'd known each other you bantered like this. Kaz would act all irritated and stern, but you knew he silently liked the way you could relieve tension and make even him crack a smile. As the only two Crows born and raised in the farmlands of Kerch, you shared a different connection. You had found each other before The Barrel knew Kaz as the force he was now. Kaz had saved you from Slavers and convinced you to join the Dregs, helping you find a life without fear.

Since then, you followed him through everything, which at this current moment, meant even through the merchant's maze of a mansion. Nina, Matthias and Wylan were somewhere outside, waiting for you, Kaz, Inej and Jesper to get what you were after and meet them. You wondered if they would be growing impatient yet, you were late, which almost never happened on a job with Kaz.

The job had started off as most others, breaking in was always the easy part. You had been privy to Kaz's plans, watching him study a map of the mansion for weeks before he committed to the job. He knew the place like the back of his hand, but he didn't know the extent of the new security measures the merch had introduced.

You and Jesper dawdled behind Inej and Kaz as they led the group through the halls. Occasionally Jesper would pause at a painting or display piece and make comments about its ugliness or stupidity.

The last painting he'd criticized was of an older man, dressed in a bright blue kefta with red embroidery. Jesper had caught your sleeve and pointed it out to you, "Looks like the merch has inferni ancestor."

You had screwed your nose up at the portrait, "I thought he was Kaelish?"

"He is," Kaz said, already at the end of the hall with Inej. He was waiting for the two of you to catch up, like a boy calling his dogs home.

Walking through the mansion felt surreal, mostly because you hadn't been to many places with such decadent displays of wealth. The four of you could move through the hallways unnoticed because the Merch and his family were out at the theatre - or whatever it was rich people did in Ketterdam on Sunday Nights. He had brought most of his guards and men with him, leaving the halls silent and unpatrolled. Kaz had called him an arrogant fool, to declare his mansion impenetrable and then take all his men out to prove it. There was no place able to keep out Dirtyhands, especially not when he had his crows by his side.

Thinking back on it you realized how you all had been too arrogant, thinking this job was in and out, easy. You'd let your guard down - something Kaz warned you to never do in this city - and now you were paying the price.

Everything went wrong when you and Kaz finally found what you were looking for - the merch's family jewel, a sapphire embedded in rich Kealish gold. You had easily broken through the fabrikator-made lock, it might have been made by a Grisha but it couldn't hold up against a Grisha. Especially not one who could melt metal with the same ease as cutting pastry. Kaz had reached for the jewels, as soon as he lifted it off the display the room filled with an ominous hum. Like the sound of a machine slowly whirring to life.

Kaz had pocketed the jewels, grabbing your forearm and tugging you along behind him as he went for the door Jesper and Inej were guarding. Before you could make it metal bars slid down over the doorway. You had tried to use your small science to melt the metal, even Jesper tried to budge it, but nothing worked. Kaz ordered Inej and Jesper to find their own way out as alarms chimed, directing you back through the room to another exit.

You had followed behind him willingly, knowing he knew the way around the mansion. You'd been irritated to learn how wrong you were, Kaz knew the layout of the mansion but the Merch had updated the floorplan. Clearly, another Fabrikator addition to hinder thieves.

"Wait," Kaz held up his hand and you barrelled straight into his back at the sudden halt, "Do you hear that?"

Footsteps.

"Back," Kaz whispered, ushering you back the way you had come.

You got to the end of the hall before you heard more bodies approaching, you were surrounded. Immediately you went to the window, trying to pull at the latch and open it. It didn't work, but you could see light dancing on the tree line.

"Kaz," You called, "Look."

You both squinted into the dark, trying to distinguish who it was in the woods. You saw the glint of steel, like someone was spinning a revolver.

"It's Jesper."

The footsteps were getting louder, there was no way you and Kaz could get out of this on your own.

"Step back," You struck your flint, the sparks allowing you to create a ball of flame. You concentrated it as small as it would allow, pressing your palms against the window until cracks started forming. After a few more seconds the pane shattered, sending the shards falling to the ground below. You were on the second floor, even if you wanted to jump there was no way you and Kaz would be able to land safely. You settled for sending up a burst of flames, Jesper and the others would be on the lookout for it, your SOS symbol.

"Stop!" Someone shouted and all hell broke loose.

You and Kaz fought well side by side, you both knew each other's moves, working in tandem to take down opponents. It looked like you might win for a little while, then a woman rounded the corner with her hands pressed together. Heartrender, you realized it too late.

You were woken suddenly, like your heart was all of a sudden coming back to life. You gasped and spluttered, lungs burning. Your hands were bound above your head, separated by a thick metal rod so that you couldn't summon. Already you could feel the ache in your shoulders, hanging from your arms was something you had been used to when you were a slave. Now, you had to fight back the panic that tried to grip your heart.

You struggled to find your footing for a moment, but eventually managed to stand up enough to take the strain off of your wrists.

Kaz.

Where was Kaz?

"Look, Brekker. Your girls fine."

You squinted to find where the voice was coming from, finding the source across the room. Kaz was standing opposite a burly man nearly a foot taller than him. Kaz's face was bloody and bruised, but he had murder in his eyes. You could see it, feel it, all the way across the room. You realized it wasn't just Kaz and the merchant; the other crows were there too. Inej held a blade against the heartrenders throat from earlier, who had both her hands held far apart to show her cooperation. Jesper was not too far away, his pistols in hand as he stared down a man who stood in between you and him.

What did I miss?

"No harm was done," The merchant continued, his voice thick with a Kaelish accent, "What do you say we part ways, unharmed."

Kaz's face didn't change, "Sure."

The Merchant frowned, a glimpse of fear breaking through his resolve, "I don't like your tone, boy."

"He always sounds like that," Jesper joked, glancing at you.

"He has an asshole voice," You agreed. Not two nights ago you and Jesper had been saying the same thing to Matthias at the Slat. You and Jesper enjoyed teasing the Fjerdan, especially regarding Kaz and his 'demjin' ways.

Kaz looked amused, he had the Merchant in the palm of his hand. "Go. Before I change my mind."

The Merchant almost tripped as he ran away, not even stopping for his Heartrender and right-hand man who followed behind him just as quick.

With the immediate threat gone, you felt your resolve begin to crumble. You had to get out of these chains. They would rub your wrists every time you moved, bringing you straight back to your past.

"Stop moving," An older woman had warned you, "It hurts less."

She was probably right, but you were too terrified to listen. Hours ago you were playing on your family's farm, but now you were chained to the roof in a dark, damp cellar. The chains were rusted and coarse, they rubbed the skin around your wrists raw, leaving cuts and grazes everywhere they pressed.

You were only eight, by far the youngest of all the slaves in the cellar. The chains they used to bind you didn't have cuffs, the slavers had just looped the links around your wrists and locked them tight. All you felt was the pain and the fear. All of this because you were Grisha? You only just learned of your power as an Inferni, how could you be worth anything?

The older woman tried to console you, doing her best to quell your tears and sobs, but even she knew the horrors that awaited you. The horrors you would spend years fighting to escape.

"Y/N," Kaz's voice was soft, he stood in front of you, supporting your weight as Jesper worked on freeing your hands from the chains. "Stay here."

You knew he was trying, you could see his own emotions clawing at him. It was one of the things that bound you and Kaz together, the demons of your past. You understood what it was like to fear touch and he understood what it was like to be betrayed. You helped each other, through the flashbacks and nightmares. You two didn't have anyone else, so you fought to have each other.

When Jesper finally broke through the chains, you lurched forward unexpectedly. Kaz held you tighter, trying to keep you upright even with his bad leg. You stood up, holding your hands out to balance yourself.

'I'm okay," You lied, trying to avoid Jesper and Inej's worried glances, "We should get out of here."

Back at the Slat, you sat staring at your cup of cocoa. Nina had made it for you as her way of trying to help, she could hear that your heartbeat hadn't stopped racing since leaving the job.

Jesper and Wylan had offered you gentle conversation, but you couldn't hold it for long. You had claimed you were tired, bidding your friends goodnight and climbing the stairs to your room. You didn't stop at your floor. Your feet carried you further up the steep stairs, stopping when you reached the attic which Kaz had converted into his own room. You didn't have to knock, you just opened the door and announced yourself.

Behind closed doors, Kaz was less concerned about keeping up his Dirtyhands persona. He smiled ever so slightly as you sat on his bed. A few months ago you had forced him to rearrange his room so that you could see him working while you lounged on his bed. You often ended up like this, watching him work after long days and taking comfort in each other's presence.

This time, Kaz wasn't concerned with his papers, he just looked at you, waiting for you to talk. You had talked Kaz through his own episodes many times, you never pushed him or asked him to move quicker than he was ready. For the first time, Kaz wanted to offer you the same comfort, but he wasn't sure if he could.

You were rubbing your wrists, stuck in your own memories of your time chained.

Kaz slowly joined you, giving you time to pull away. You glanced over at him, watching him as he slowly removed his gloves.

"Kaz-"

Kaz shook his head to silence you, continuing what he was doing. He placed his gloves neatly on the bedside table, turning to you. He reached out slowly and you let him. He gently pried your fingers away from your wrist, taking your hands in his own. He turned your palms up, his fingers slowly ghosting over the scars on your skin.

Kaz could feel the warmth of your skin through his fingertips. It helped him fight off the flashbacks, the warmth reminding him you were safe, healthy, alive.

Kaz's fingers traced over a scar on your right thumb. You couldn't help the small sigh that escaped your lips.

Kaz's head snapped up to look at you, fear filling his eyes.

"I'm okay," You meant it this time. The flashbacks were gone, locked in the vault in the back of your mind.

Kaz could tell that you meant it, see the anxiety leave your face. He drew his hands back, reaching for his gloves again. You smiled at him as he slipped his hands back into them, the leather bringing him the comfort he needed.

Kaz offered you a quiet apology.

"Kaz," You couldn't help the adoring smile on your face, "It's okay."

You knew Kaz could handle contact more when his gloves were on, so you gently took his hand. Kaz watched as you copied his movements from earlier, gently opening up his fingers. You slowly raised his hand, pressing a gentle kiss to his palm.

"I love you," You said, "Gloves and all."

Kaz smiled, a genuine smile that you only saw in the safety of these four walls.

He let out a quiet reply, "I love you too."

[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!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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

[engeorged]

Santa’s Otto

This is a sequel to Obi's Place and a prequel to Aster's Maze. Also now The Sugarman’s House

It’s been a while since I last posted, and a fair bit has happened with me and Aster, but that’s something that’s still developing. Being in a relationship with a magical being is not something that’s been mapped, outside of Greek fables, so we are still finding our way with it. Suffice to say we are both very happy and very together.  Both of us have grown quite a bit. Physically, mentally and spiritually shall we say. (And by that I mean quite a lot more physically than the other two). But I think that that's a story for another time. I want it to be mine for a little longer. 

Anyway, as Christmas is coming up, I thought I would tell you about an encounter I had, just a few months before meeting Aster. As it turned out, it wasn't actually me meeting a fae, but it definitely gave me some confirmation, and I think some of you will really enjoy this story! It’s about the time I met Santa in Germany. Yes, I know how that sounds, but you’re going to have to bear with me. 

I’d headed to Europe a few months earlier and was working my way through some possible sightings. I hadn’t seen or met another being like Obi yet, but I’d definitely picked up some promising clues. A few things which I thought were legit,  had led me to northern Germany where I immediately hit a dead end. German Christmas’ are some of the best in the world so I decided to stay a few weeks and have a break from the search. I’d been enjoying the sights of some famous local castle, and was feeling a bit hungry so I popped into a medium sized shopping mall I’d seen earlier and headed in. It was pretty quiet, which was strange considering it was the Saturday before Christmas but  as I was walking through looking for something to eat, my eye was drawn to an incredibly hot man doing some maintenance work. He was dressed in an overall but it was open all the way down to his waist, revealing an incredibly toned physique. His very worked on, defined abs were covered in a delightful amount of belly fur all the way up to his thick neck and he was very much my type. I paused for a moment to drink him in and watched as he heaved some large boxes as if they were nothing. He was maybe an inch taller than me with broad shoulders and a thick head of dark messy hair with a fade at the sides. His beautifully pale European skin along with his darker hair and smattering of freckles was very striking.  His face was covered in just the right amount of stubble to make him look rugged but not scruffy. But the crowning glory was his eyes! They were a vibrant pale blue that practically shone out from his face. As he turned and bent down to pick up the next box, I was surprised that his rounded meaty ass didn’t burst out of those overalls. They were unfortunately doing a good job at holding back all that muscle. I shook off my horny reverie and made a note to come back round after lunch to see if he was still there. Following my nose, I headed in the direction of food and found a little pop-up Christmas food court. I indulged in a few thick sausages and some delightful potato and apple cakes which were not bad at all. I took another couple of sausages to go and headed back the way I’d come, hoping to catch the hot maintenance guy again. 

I hung around near where I first saw him for a good twenty minutes before I heard a commotion a bit further down. I walked over to where the sound was coming from and saw the festive grotto. Santa had arrived for the Christmas display. Kids were clamouring round excitedly and as I watched I saw Santa make his way through the crowds. I was yet again surprised to see that this was not your average sad old failed actor, living out his last working years as the big red fat man for a few euros an hour. This guy was young and vibrant. His broad shoulders were straining the limits of the outfit, with the white fur trim (probably real, this is Europe after all!) curving round and showing off the enormous belly. At first I assumed it was padded but it definitely caught my eye. The guy was so clearly stacked that the belly looked almost comical. It was almost perfectly round and stuck out a good foot and a half from this guy's toned body. As I watched him moving around I started noticing that the belly wasn’t squishy like a pillow would have been. It had a certain heft to it that I was very familiar with. I moved forward to get a better look and saw a kid, who wasn’t paying attention, get under his feet, tripping him up. He fell backwards onto a small elf house and levelled it. As he fell, his red coat came undone and I got a good glimpse of the huge round furry belly that was contained underneath. It was a thing of beauty, rounded and perfectly formed. Covered in dark thick hair with a small and neat belly button. He quickly pulled himself up and closed the coat, laughing it off. As he adjusted his fake white beard I caught a glimpse of his piercing pale blue eyes. I’d seen them before.  Was the maintenance guy? What the fuck? I’d seen him an hour before and he was practically an underwear model. Either he’d got a Hollywood level makeup and prosthetic artist hidden round the back or there was something fishy going on. 

My mind was racing. If that belly was real, it had to have grown in less than an hour? Who was he? Was this guy somehow a Fae? A crazy thought passed through my mind, was this actually Santa? I know I’d chased round the world for less weird ideas but the idea that Santa might have been real, was still a bit out there, even for me. Also, more importantly, did I have a crush on Santa? 

I waited around till his shift ended. I couldn’t keep my eyes off this guy's belly. It was incredible. There was no flab or excess blubber, it looked like a solid mass of muscle over a huge sphere of gut. Well, like I was after Obi! I couldn’t lose this guy. This was the closest I’d come to answers in months. It was fascinating to watch him in action, the kids were captivated by him, and so were the parents. I couldn’t help but notice that he paid a fair bit of attention to some of the more hot dads, often touching them on the arm as he laughed at their bad jokes. 

A few hours later, I saw him waving goodbye to the children before disappearing behind the grotto. I followed him and waited till he was alone. I approached him quietly so he didn’t have time to bolt and tapped him on the shoulder. He jumped out of his skin and span round, yet again revealing his massive ball belly as his coat flapped open. I introduced myself and told him I’d enjoyed his performance. Fortunately, he spoke very good English and understood me. He cautiously introduced himself as Otto and shook my hand. He took his beard off and I saw his face up close. It was so odd to see such a handsome and chiselled face sporting such a huge gut but there they both were. I didn’t really know where to go from there so I simply came out with it. I saw him an hour earlier and he had no belly. Now here he was with a 150 lbs beer gut. What was the deal?  Was magic involved?

He stared at me for a little while, clearly weighing up what to say. I wasn’t sure if he was gonna bolt so I got myself ready for a chase, but suddenly he burst out with a hearty laugh and pulled me in for a hug. His belly pressing against me hit home how real it was. Our bellies pushed against each other with a satisfying thunk. As he pulled back he put his hands on either side of my belly and gave me a squeeze. As you know I’m not skinny myself, a few months of trying to eat myself into the same state as I was when Obi finished with me had added a few pounds to my bulk. Simply by touching me, Otto knew instantly that something magical had happened to me and asked me who I’d met. I told him about my encounter in the cafe and he nodded and smiled as if he understood. When I’d finished, he told me that my story was familiar and thanked me for telling it and turned to go. I reached out and grabbed his arm and asked him to tell me his story. He smiled and told me that it wasn’t going to be that simple. 

We chatted for a while and worked out the terms of our agreement. As is always the way with these magical types there was always some sort of bargain or deal to be had. He agreed to answer 5 questions but to answer the questions I would have to eat something of his choosing. Now I’m not able to eat the amount I did when Obi was around but I’m still an accomplished eater. I agreed to the terms and we headed to the Christmas food market. He found us a delightful booth made from wood, with garlands of holly and pine branches covering the roof and headed off for my first meal. He returned with three of the sausages I’d already eaten. They were so good I was happy and I set about eating them whilst he sat there with a smile on his face enjoying a large European litre of beer. I thought about my first question and went with it. ‘Are you Santa?’ He scratched at his stubble and smiled a wry grin. ‘No’ he said smugly and lumbered off to get my next meal. I was pissed that my question wasn’t quite right. I needed to ask something more open ended. I was still thinking about what to ask when he returned with a thick crepe, stuffed with cheese and bacon and covered in more cheese. I grabbed a wooden set of cutlery and started eating. 

As I finished, I began feeling a little full. Seven hot dogs, a pancake and some of those amazing apple potato fritters were heavy and not insignificant. I leant back and gave my belly a rub whilst I formulated my question. I needed a question that would make him give me more information than yes or no. I needed to find out if he was human and if not what he was. It came to me. ‘When did you first find you could grow an instant belly?’ His blue eyes twinkled, clearly impressed by my question. Draining the last dregs of his beer he leant back to match my position and began. 

‘I was just out of university and was back living with my parents. I’d decided by then that I wanted to do something practical and started training as an electrician. It was Christmas Eve and I’d been out with my friends and came home pretty drunk and I crashed. Now I was pretty into the gym at the time and I had a killer body. Well, I guess you'd have seen it if you caught me earlier? Anyway, I woke up Christmas morning with this thing pinning me down!’ He grabbed his belly and attempted to shake it but it didn’t really move. 

‘I had no idea what had happened and if I’m honest I sort of assumed it was the beer from the previous night. I thought I’d had an allergic reaction or something. Anyway, I went to the hospital to get checked out and they were baffled. No one could explain what had happened to me. With no answers I headed back to the gym and started training. I had 160 lbs to lose and I wanted it gone quickly. I hadn’t lost my muscle mass and so training was relatively easy. It took me 10 months in total but I managed it and got back into shape. I was maybe 20 lbs more than when I got the gut but it was all muscle mass so I was very much back in shape. I thought it was all behind me and then a few months later I woke up on Christmas morning yet again looking like I was pregnant with triplets. No one could tell me what had happened and so it all started again. Five years that happened for. Five years.’ 

I waited for more but that was all he was giving me. I went to ask another question and he stopped me and headed off. So he wasn’t a magical being. Something had happened to him? And why did it always happen on Christmas Day? What was the link?  He returned with a huge turkey sandwich, dripping with gravy and cranberry sauce, with a side of roast vegetables. Yet again I dove in, all the time formulating my next question. Something was not quite right here. How did he go from ballooning every Christmas Day to being able to do it seemingly at will, in an hour? I was missing something here? I had three questions left and I didn’t want to waste one of them. I finished the sandwich (best one I’ve ever had by the way) and posed my next question. ‘Did you find out why this happened to you?’ He smiled again and nodded. I instantly regretted my wording. I’d given him a yes or no question again. He paused and offered me a lifeline. ‘Ask me about him?’ He pointed at the mural painted on the ceiling above us of a jolly Santa riding his sleigh across the sky. 

That was all he was willing to give me and he left me to work on my fourth question. I needed to ask something about Father Christmas and how he was involved. So Father Christmas was real? My mind raced as I tried to get comfier in my chair. I was feeling the bloat now. The cheese in that pancake was sitting very heavily on my stomach. Otto returned with a bowl of steaming Christmas pudding. He’d brought me a whole one covered in custard that could have fed a family of six. I settled in to eat the fragrant dessert. I was struggling a bit now. It was a heavy thing to pack on top of what I’d already had. Otto was clearly enjoying watching me eat it though. He was on his fourth beer at this point and wasn’t really showing any signs of being drunk. Apparently Germans can really handle their beer. 

Finishing the pudding I dropped my spoon into the bowl. ‘Alright.’ I said, belching deeply under my breath. ‘You’ve just told me Santa is part of this. If Santa is real then he’s obviously some sort of magical being or fae. Here’s my question.’ I reached over and put my hand on the top of his massive belly shelf and patted it. ‘How does Santa give you this belly every Christmas Day?’ 

‘Now we’re getting somewhere!’ Otto added. He drained his beer again and I swore under my fingers I could feel his belly swelling a little bit more. ‘After year five of doctors and experts not knowing why I gained nearly 200 lbs every year, I started getting desperate. I did some research online and put some feelers out there. I wasn’t expecting to find the answers I found! Turns out there are loads of guys like me around the world and we all have several things in common. All of us are over 6 feet tall, and all of us are pretty into fitness or sports. Big solid strapping men. Not one of them knew what was happening to us. That was until I found a guy in Norway who has a theory. He told me this crazy story. He’d heard rumours of this happening for hundreds of years. There were some Norwegian folk tales of trolls who would trick mortal men into being their ‘Magebror’, literally translated as ‘belly brother’. The trolls would then go off and gorge themselves all night and the poor magebror would begin to get fatter and fatter until they would burst open. He thought that we were cursed by trolls and we should simply thank the gods we weren’t bursting open. Obviously I ignored him but the more research I did the more I found out that there were some truths in these myths. It wasn’t something he’d invented but a real fable that appeared in several different folk laws across Scandinavia. I got back in touch with him and he’d vanished, so I headed off to Norway to try and find him. It took me a while but eventually I did. And low and behold he was 6’6 and stacked but with a huge pot belly twice the size of mine. He told me he’d been investigating more and more and had uncovered the truth. It wasn’t trolls doing this to us, it was Father Christmas. I could have punched him in the face. I’d gone all this way only to find that the guy truly was mental. I didn’t even say goodbye. I headed straight back home, gave up the search and tried to lose the weight again before Christmas.’

‘Christmas Eve came and I couldn’t quite shake the idea that this guy had put in my head. I decided to sit up and see if I could stay awake to see what would happen. I nearly didn’t make it but as the clock struck midnight something changed in the house. I felt an electricity in the air and you can imagine my surprise when he landed with a thump in my fireplace. And he was not how I imagined him to look. In front of me was not a fat old man with a grey beard, but a total hunk. He was tall and muscled like I used to be. Clean shaved but with some incredible big dick energy. Like some sort of daddy stud. I don't quite remember fully but I think he did have some ram horns sprouting from his head but they might have been part of the costume? It was a lot anyway. He smiled as if he recognised me. We waited in silence for a few minutes. I was totally enthralled by how attractive he was. I almost didn’t want to ask my question. Eventually I managed to speak and asked why I was gaining weight every Christmas Day. He seemed all too pleased to tell me as he launched into the explanation. It was simple, he had a few billion homes to visit every year and in every country, there was a tradition to leave food out for him. He had to eat millions of cookies and mince pies and treats in just a few hours as he travelled. And so he used magic! He would choose a load of men, all who had the frame to handle the mass, and they would be his magebror. He’d learnt from the trolls how to do it. He would eat the food and they would get fat. I was simply one of a few hundred guys who would wake up with bellies packed full of treats every year so he could stay toned and handsome. And that's why I got fat every year!’

So it wasn’t just me that had encountered these guys. This was finally some proof that what happened to me in that diner was real! The relief for me was immense. I wasn’t going mad. My mind was pulled back to earth as Otto stood to get my final meal. I had one more question. The one thing I didn’t know was how he could do it at will. He’d obviously found a way to control how and when he bulked up. And the intimate question, could he teach me how to do it?  He returned with the final meal. A huge ironic plate full of cookies. There were at least a dozen and they were big ones. He slapped them on the table next to a large jug of milk. Obediently and greedily I started eating them. Dipping them in the milk,I was determined to get through them. One by one I swallowed each one down. Adding to the knot of pressure in my already overpacked stomach. My belly was feeling every bite as it distended outwards. Finishing the cookies was tough but I still had a few litres of milk to chug. There was nothing for it but to go for it. Lifting the jug to my lips I poured the cool milk into my stuffed gut. It felt good and horrible at the same time. I could feel my belly actually swelling out and straining my taut T-shirt. As the last of the milk drained down my throat, I slammed the jug on the table. Out of breath I posed my final question. ‘How do you control it? How come you can make your belly swell out when you want it to? How can I do that?’

His eyes sparkled. ‘That was three questions!’ He laughed. He reached over and gave my belly a stroke. He was firm but it was the touch of someone who knew how to handle a distended gut. ‘You’ve done well though! I’ll answer them. When I caught Santa out that night, I was the first one. No one had tracked him down before and he was pleased with me. I don’t wanna kiss and tell but let’s just say I sat on Santa's lap and he gave me a gift! He gave me the same ability that he has. The weight of food he eats, I can manage myself. Meaning I can gain his weight at will, whenever I like.  Then all I have to do to get rid of it is touch a guy like he does and he becomes my magebror! I’m not magic so it’s not quite as strong as his abilities are. My magebrors are only temporary and one offs.’

I was so stuffed I didn’t quite pick up on what he was saying but I nodded anyway. That explained why he was touching the hot dads in the queue. The idea of a load of guys walking up tomorrow morning a few pounds heavier was kinda hot. To be honest, I was just relieved that I wasn’t imagining things. He helped me up out of the booth and we walked back through the mall. We chatted a bit more about my experience and some of the leads I’d found. All the while I was painfully aware of how full I was. I couldn’t stop belching as we walked, the movement dislodging the gas. As I walked, I kept one hand on the top of my gut, rubbing my bloated belly to try and ease the pressure. I’d not felt this stuffed for a while and it felt good. 

I walked him back to his truck and he jumped in. As he jumped up I realised he was back to his original toned and lean self. I pointed it out and he just smiled as he drove off. As I stood in the snow processing the information I’d just been given I was interrupted by a ping. I was confused until I realised my trousers had become loose. The ping was my top button from my jeans. I looked down to see my belly was twice the size as it was when I had finished eating. I realised that he’d touched me as he helped me out of the booth. I had become his magebror! My belly had to be close to the same size it was when Obi had his way with me. I smiled as I explored my swollen belly with my hands. Also, it wasn’t lost on me that I’d just had a conversation with someone who had fucked Santa. 

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[wtfyangjungwon]

DRUNK-DAZED

member : lee heeseung

au : vampire!heeseung x human!reader

genre : fluff, suggestive

a/n : here is part two of the enhypen 3yr anniversary!

summary : vampire heeseung gets drunk off the scent of his partner's blood after catching a whiff of the sweet scent. and he begs for a taste.

warnings : mentions of blood, biting, kissing, not proofread, begging , switch!heeseung

the sweet scent of blood wavered through heeseung's nose. he furrowed his eyebrows and looked around his apartment. his partner was at work so he shouldn't be smelling their blood.

keys jingle from the outside of his front door and it opens, heeseung moving his head to look. in the doorway, was you standing there, drenched in rain water and a patch of blood on the knee of your sweatpants.

" what happened?" heeseung got up from the couch quickly and moved towards your side. his doe eyes searching your face for any clues. you smiled softly at the worried boy. " i'm okay, hee. it started raining on my way home and i slipped on the wet concrete."

his lips turn into a pout and you couldn't help but place a gentle kiss on his lips. " i'm okay, i promise. " you whispered against his lips. heeseung nodded and pulled away from your body.

" let's get you some new clothes. you're soaking wet and you're bleeding so we need to clean up your knee. " heeseung grabbed your hand and led you to his room. he grabbed on of his hoodies and a pair of his boxers and handed them to you. " put these on. after you get changed, go to the kitchen. we need to clean your wound before it gets infected. " you nodded your head and he left the room to grab the first aid kit.

----

a couple minutes later, you walked out of his room and headed towards the kitchen. you saw heeseung making ramen for the two of you. he turned around once he heard your small footsteps along the wooden floor. he smiled at you and he grabbed the first aid kit off the counter and headed towards you.

" sit, baby. " heeseung gestures to the chair beside the table. you took a seat and watched him ad he got on his knees in front of you. you reached forward and placed a hand in his hair. heeseung looked up at you, his brown doe eyes , searching your face. " are you okay, hee? you look like you want something."

the smell of your blood was invading his nose. it was sweet to him. like chocolate was to you. it was like an addiction waiting to happen. heeseung wanted you in ways that he couldn't say. his face was heating up and his eyes were glistening a dark red.

when you saw this, you couldn't help but cup his face in your hands and bent your body closer. your face was inches apart and you could feel his breath on your skin. " whatever you want, take it. i trust you. "

that one sentence broke heeseung. he immediately got up and crashed his lips against yours. his hands roamed your body before one ends up on your neck. your sweet scent still invading his nose. his breath quickens as he heard your whimpers, and your hands gripping his shirt.

" can i please have a taste? i've been craving it since you walked through that door. please, baby? i'll be good. i won't play my games while you're here. i'll pay attention to you. please i just want a taste of you. " heeseung begged against your skin.

" go ahead sweet boy."

that drove him over the edge. you felt a stinging against your neck and your hand automatically went to his hair, gripping the dark blue almost black strands.

you felt his hot tongue press against the bite mark to soothe down whatever pain he may have caused you. heeseung pulled back to look at you.

your face was flushed red, your face glistening with sweat. your hair was partially dry from the rain. your chest was moving up and down as you were breathing heavily.

the sight alone was arousing and he bent down face to face with you. he leaned towards towards your face, blood on the corner of his lips and his fangs on display.

" now it's my turn to have my way with you. "

[mizunoyouni]

ੈ♡₊˚•. Pale Blue Melody

· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Pairing - Kamisato Ayato x fem! Reader

₊˚♡⋆˚ Summary - After months of hard work and endless meetings, you and Ayato finally find some quiet time to relax together over some tea and sweets; courtesy of Thoma. It's in that moment you are reminded what it is exactly about your husband that makes your heart swell.

.°˖✧˚ Content - 3.1k fluffy + flowery words, Reader is referred to as "wife" and "my lady" + established relationship. Suggestiveness towards the end, but nothing explicit. Thoma + Ayaka cameo/mentioned. Lots of teasing and banter.

"Let's see... sakura mochi, tricolour dango, berry mizu manjuu..."

Thoma listed each item as he carefully set the plates of food onto the low table in front of you with a smile on his lips. Spring had descended upon Inazuma, dusting the lands in soft pink petals while conducting a symphony of chirps and hums from the wildlife that served as your morning wake up call and nightly lullaby. But with a new season came new responsibilities and tasks to be fulfilled, and you soon found your daily schedule each day was packed tighter than the adorable bento boxes Thoma sent along with you for lunch in between your meetings.

Which had led you to the position you were in currently— sitting comfortably outside, enjoying the sunlight and perfect blue sky as Thoma set up a table full of sweets and refreshments before you. He kept insisting that you sit back and relax while he meticulously adjusted each plate, teacup, and napkin as if this occasion was something akin to his latest magnum opus. Such a display laid out on the veranda was something that had become an uncommon sight in the Kamisato estate, especially with the combined hectic schedules of both you and Ayato often keeping the two of you away from home for days and sometimes weeks at a time as you each tended to your own separate duties. In a way, you were like two birds leaving the nest early each morning to go their own way, only returning home in the dead of night for rest and a quick meal. And needless to say, the change of pace hadn't gone unnoticed by Thoma's watchful eyes.

"Oh, and I can't forget the butterfly pea tea!" The blond housekeeper proudly announced, grinning widely, and you couldn't help but smile along with his contagious happiness.

"It's the new trend in Inazuma City to serve this tea with edible flowers. I thought both my lady and my lord would enjoy it, seeing that you've both been working so hard recently," he explained, clearly invested in the beautiful blue beverage he presented to you in a dainty glass teacup.

And so continued his happy ramblings detailing the herbal properties of said beverage, his search for the specific tea, his failed attempts in brewing just the right shade of pale blue, and his long journey of seeking out the perfect pearly flowers that would adorn your cups of liquid sky. Part of you wanted to suggest that Thoma sell his tea adventure story to the Yae publishing house as an idea for a new light novel, but you decided against it for Thoma’s sake.

"Is that so? Well, I'm glad you're so enthusiastic about it. It seems almost like you've been planning this for weeks," you say, trying not to laugh at Thoma's slightly startled expression upon hearing your words. He was like a surprised puppy— his posture straightening up immediately, his eyes widening, and the tips of his ears turning the faintest shade of red at the realization that he had been caught.

"Ah, well, I just thought that ever since last month, the two of you haven’t been home very often! Even if you both insist that work comes first, sometimes you need a break!" came his hurried response as he shifted in his seat beside you, quickly placing the last of the flowers into your cup in a feeble attempt to distract your attention.

“So you have been planning this for weeks.”

The sound of amused chuckling caught the attention of the two of you, and you both turned to see Ayato in all his prim and proper attire approaching with a smirk gracing his lips as he overheard the admission.

"My lord!" Thoma quickly jumped to his feet and bowed in greeting while Ayato continued grinning at the housekeeper smugly. "I-I... suppose you could say that..."

"I see, so that’s why you kept asking about our weekly schedules lately. You were trying to squeeze in an afternoon tea break for us," you laughed along with your husband, who also found the situation to be quite entertaining in his eyes, much to the blond’s embarrassment.

“We must thank you for this fine arrangement,” Ayato smiled, taking his seat across from you at the low table. “Will you join us for a few bites before returning to your duties?”

Thoma shook his head, his face still tinged with the slightest bit of red. “I’m afraid not. I’m scheduled to accompany Lady Ayaka to Ritou later today, so I’ll need to leave soon in order to escort her there.”

“Ah, a pity, but duty calls. We won’t keep you any longer then.”

And with that, the blond head of your trustworthy housekeeper quickly disappeared from the veranda where you and Ayato comfortably sat in the cool shade of spring, basking in the fresh floral notes and sweet aroma of the generous foods laid out before you. Thoma had truly outdone himself this time, not only in the visual presentation of everything, but also in pairing such flavors together to ensure an enjoyable time leisurely snacking and chatting. It was commendable, the way he had brewed the tea to just the right shade of blue that it seemed to rival the tranquility of the calm blue sky, or the way he had prepared the sakura mochi and tricolour dango that left you wondering if in another life, was Thoma perhaps a sakura blossom spirit? Because how else was he able to capture that soft, delicate hue of pink?

“Quite the dependable housekeeper, isn’t he?” Ayato finally asked after a few moments of watching you observe the fruits of Thoma’s labor.

“He’s always been. Although, I think he’s surpassed any, if not all expectations at this point,” you say with a smile before you take a tiny sip of the pale blue tea that had captivated you from the moment Thoma poured the sparkling liquid into your cup.

“Oh, don’t fall for him now. I might have to fire him if he causes my wife to stray away from me.” There wasn’t a single hint of malice in Ayato’s voice as he teased you lightheartedly. After years of being married to the man, it was evident that he loved to gently poke fun and share hushed laughs with you, rain or shine.

“We both know the Kamisato estate would fall into ruins if anything happens to Thoma,” you quip back, trying to bite back a smile, although your attempt proved rather futile and Ayato was able to catch your wide smile while he leisurely chewed on a piece of sakura mochi.

“Hm… perhaps you’re right. He does end up taking on more responsibilities than your typical housekeeper,” he agrees, feigning deep thought over the topic before he quickly let it dissolve away like powdered sugar on his tongue. “But enough talk about our wonderful housekeeper. How have you been fairing lately? Any personal plans you have scheduled? I could use another self indulgent activity as a palate cleanser from my countless meetings, you know.”

“Sounds like you just want to skip out on meetings,” you point out and you watch in amusement as Ayato throws you a pout before returning to his plate of sweets.

“Would it be such a crime for me to want to spend time with my lovely wife?” came his witty response. His lavender eyes narrowed at you, practically daring you to throw another playful remark his way.

Relenting, you sigh in defeat, your smile still on your lips as you carefully observe the floating flowers in your teacup for a few moments. The slightly translucent petals shimmered and dipped below the surface, dancing in your cup as they performed a private show, just for you. And you had half the mind to just sit and admire its beauty, finding it almost too dazzling to waste on the arbitrary act of drinking.

“I suppose not,” you finally say while Ayato wears a look of triumph on his face. “But if you insist, then I’d like you to accompany me tomorrow as I shop for a new kimono for the Irodori Festival in a few weeks. I want to look my best standing next to you.”

To that, he slightly perked up, interested in your proposal. “Shopping for a new kimono? And you want me to come along?”

“Well, I wouldn’t dream of wearing one my husband finds unflattering,” you laugh, and his lips mirror the smile on your lips.

“We can’t have you wearing a kimono that doesn’t highlight your beauty, can we? I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I let that happen,” he chuckles.

“Hm, you’re almost making me feel like I’m a doll that's to be dressed up and made pretty by you.”

“Doll or not, you are my beautiful doll. And don’t take this as an empty act of lip service, but you could choose to wear a burlap sack and you would still be the most beautiful person I’ve ever laid my eyes on,” Ayato proclaimed proudly, leaning his face against the palm of his hand. If you looked closely, you could see the twinkling in his lavender eyes.

A stuttered breath left your lips as his honeyed words filled you with warmth— the same warmth that had enveloped all of Inazuma for the past month as the seasons shifted and the days grew longer. It’s the warmth that lives inside your chest, keeping you warm and wrapping you in a protective embrace during the nights when Ayato cannot return to your shared bed and lay next to you while you sleep. It’s warmth that gives you confidence and strength on days where it seems that all hope has been drained from your body, lifting up your spirits from the depths of despair. But most importantly, it’s the warmth that fuels your soul, touching your heart and painting it a brilliant blue— proof of your attachment to your other half.

You shake your head at his overly affectionate words, wondering when he found the time to practice such romantic lines in his head.

“And there you go again being so sickly sweet to me…” you mutter as you shake your head.

“As if you’d prefer any other treatment,” he says with a smirk, and his gloved hand holds out his teacup to yours in a mock toast, the dainty glass clinking against each other softly, singing of the bond between the two of you.

“You know me too well,” you admit, and his smirk only grows wider.

“And if I didn’t? The thought alone is too horrid to imagine.”

Ayato chuckles as you smile along with him in silent agreement, not having a single comment to dispute his word. And as a quiet, comfortable silence drapes over the two of you like a soft blanket, you think to yourself that there is hardly any other place in the world you’d like to be in. If only you could have more days like this— a lazy afternoon sipping on liquid sky, enveloped by the sweet aroma of spring, and kissed with honeyed words as they blossom from your husband’s lips. But alas, you knew that this peaceful moment would soon come to an end, as all things would, and your life would return to days consisting of endless meetings you would be stuck in, sleeping next to the ghost of your husband, and longing for spring to return once again. That is, at least until the end of this busy period.

“You know, I really love these back and forths we have,” Ayato finally says after a few moments in a noticeably softer tone. It was the voice he only used when he was alone with you, usually in the comfort of your shared bedroom, away from all eyes except for the moonlight peeking through the window as the only witness to your nightly conversations.

“Because nobody else dares to challenge your word?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as his attention turns to the butterfly pea tea in his teacup.

Swirling the shimmering blue liquid, his eyes darted to the surface of the drink, refusing to make eye contact with you. 

“Truthfully, I’m not a man who is often denied what he wishes for,” he starts. “Even when I became the head of the Kamisato clan at a young age, hardly any of my servants ever told me ‘no.’ If anything, it was more pressure than I could imagine. Because even if I made a bad proposal, many wouldn’t even dare to advise against it.”

Slowly, he lifted his cup and took a sip of the tea, his eyes locked on you the whole time before his lips finally parted from the edge of his teacup and he set it back down gently on the table. 

“So you can imagine my delight to find a wife who can stand confidently beside me. I love that you are your own person. It’s what drew me to you, and I’ll never wish for that aspect of you to change.”

Ayato’s gloved hand found yours and he gently brought your knuckles to his smooth lips, kissing your hand slowly and you couldn’t help but feel your heart skip a beat when he playfully winked at you, clearly noticing how his words had affected you. Years of marriage to this man, and he always caused the butterflies in your stomach to flutter. It made you wonder if by the time the two of you had grown old and wrinkly, would he still be teasing you lovingly in such a lovesick manner?

A soft sigh escaped your lips as Ayato released your hand and chuckled softly at your sheepish expression from his sudden burst of flowery words that threatened to suffocate you. 

“Such sweet words from a man of such high position would cause any onlooker to doubt your image,” you say at last, trying desperately to direct his attention away from the bubbling feeling that was brewing in your chest. 

But to your dismay, his smile only grew as he leaned forward, looking mischievously at you with a smug expression gracing his features before he held your chin between his fingers. You knew that expression all too well— it was the same face he wore during hot pot nights right before he put in an odd array of ingredients, a misfortune that you and Thoma often found yourselves the victims of. Trouble was brewing, you were sure of it.

“And I’d think that if anyone heard of the words that leave your lips while we are in private, oh that would certainly stir up some gossip,” he purred.

“Ayato!” you blurt out and quickly swat his hand away, watching as he bathed in your startled expression as if it was his favorite pastime.

“Oh, don’t deny it, my love. You’re certainly no saint behind closed doors.”

You groan softly at your husband's antics and with shaky hands, you lift your teacup to your lips, desperately hoping a sip of the herbal tea would calm your beating heart and remedy the red that you were sure was dusting your face by now. 

“A-and neither are you. Considering the amount of filthy words that leave your mouth when we are behind said closed doors, the shrine maidens should wash your mouth out with holy water…” you say, willing your voice to remain calm in order to deny your husband of any teasing comments he might think up.

Nervously, you watch as he tilts his head in mock innocence, giving you an amused look that does all but scream that he is up to no good.

“And what of when I do not use words?”

You can hear his hearty laugh as you choke on your tea, spilling a few pale blue drops onto the table before you’re sent into a coughing fit, all red faced and short of breath from his relentless teasing and the bits of liquid sky entering your lungs. You swear your heart stutters, and you see stars for just a fraction of a second, before you resist the urge to reach over and shove more sakura mochi into your husband's mouth to put an end to his teasing barrage that threatened to plant a garden of flowers where your heart should be.

When you finally recover from your coughing spell, you shift your gaze from your teacup to Ayato’s smiling face. He’s resting his chin on his palm now, his pale blue hair framing his face nicely as it always does. His lavender eyes had been trained on you the whole time, watching you with soft admiration. His lips were no longer held in the smirk that was plastered on his face moments before, but rather, they were softly painted with a smile that reminded you of the first snow of winter— gentle, soft, and kind.

In the shade of the veranda, and in the warm spring afternoon, you wonder if maybe you were dreaming— dreaming of the man sitting in front of you, dreaming of the delicious sweets prepared for the two of you by your housekeeper, dreaming of the life you were currently living. And after a few more moments of staring into your husband’s eyes, you wonder what exactly it is about him that makes your heart beat out of tune, skipping around as if it were singing acapella despite the perfectly timed chords resonating inside you. You blink, and he flashes you a closed eyed smile, and suddenly, it hits you all at once. 

It’s the combination of the blue of your husband’s hair, the blue of the Inazuman sky, and the blue of your spilled tea that all string together to form that heart stopping pale blue melody that echoes in your head and guides your heart. It’s those blues that silently put you at ease whenever you feel restless, swaddling you like a child and rocking you back and forth comfortingly. And it’s the same blues that keep you company whenever you are away from Ayato, giving you ghostly kisses in his place until he can return to your side. It’s that specific shade of blue that you always look for in crowds, hoping to find his tall figure somewhere in the sea of faces. Blue— that’s the colour you’ve decided for your new kimono. It’s the colour of the skies that grace your beloved nation, the shade of your husband’s soft hair, the hue of your spilled tea, and the colour that has evidently painted your heart, signaling to anyone and everyone around you that you are a person deeply, helplessly in love.

Yes, that’s it. It’s that pale blue melody that sings of your love for Kamisato Ayato. To others, he is the Yashiro commissioner, or even simply a brother, or a lord, but to you, he is your husband, your lover, and the man who constantly threatens to drown you in his bed of soft blue flowers that he has molded perfectly to the shape of your body. And for better or for worse, you hope deep down inside that this pale blue melody never stops playing as long as you continue to breathe. Because it's one thing to hold your lover's heart close to yours, and other to have both of them beating to the same rhythm during every waking and dreaming moment.

୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ Author's note - Can you tell that I'm hopelessly in love with this man? My first fic, so I hope I've portrayed Ayato accurately... if not, then this is all just my silly little delusion.

[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.

[mew-ya]

hello everyone! i'm proud to share my halloween-themed fic for raven's (@swampstew) event, where writers all incorporated a costume + a character into a fic! at the end of the month on October 29th, there will be a vote to see who wins the costume contest! check out the other fics and get ready to vote when the time comes!

character: Charlotte Katakuri

warnings/notes: no warnings (SFW fic), so fluffy it hurts, non-gendered reader, gender neutral reader, reader is average human sized

length: 4,016 words

summary: Your employer, Charlotte Cracker, Minister of Biscuits, gives you a last-minute invite to the Charlotte family's yearly Halloween party. As a newer resident of Totto Land, you'd not yet been to one of the Charlotte family's reputed parties, so your curiosity led you to the foot of Whole Cake Island on the night of Halloween.

You’d heard the Charlotte family threw a party for every occasion. And based on your arrival at the foot of the great Whole Cake Island, Halloween was certainly no exception. Hosted by Big Mom herself, every candied and frosted structure was painstakingly decorated by Streusen and his team of chefs. The cakes lining the horizon were decorated in the colors black, orange, red. Creepily smiling bats, balloons in deep red, and cotton candy clouds of a deep blue filled the darkening sky, contrasted brightly against the orange sunset. Fake blood oozed from the frosted fences lining the cracker-laden paths that led you to the delicious town of Sweet City. The singing, dancing homies you’d grown accustomed to seeing were eerily silent, silence a rare and disturbing thing in the archipelago you’d come to reside in. You spotted a few homies who took the shape of gravestones, attracted by the only sound in the whole area beyond the plodding footsteps of other partygoers. The gravestone homies sang a dark dirge as they sullenly watched a shovel homie dig up a fresh grave. Even the juice river had been dyed red to look like blood, deep red reflecting on the horrible grins of the trees peering from the edge of the Seducing Woods.

Having once glimpsed the true darkness of Totto Land, you couldn’t help but wonder if its morbid, Halloween-themed makeover was the truest reflection of its nature. Memories flashed back to your initial arrival to the archipelago. You watched the man in front of you die as Big Mom’s Incarnation swiped the final months of his life as payment for his residency. Vivid memories of him collapsing to the floor with a final breath danced in your brain, followed by the hollow smile of the creature with its white glowing eyes. The creature you’d come to pay twice a year for your ability to live here.

You shuddered at the thought, shaking away the uncomfortable memories. You’d lived here for about 3 months, happily, but saw the hints of darkness creeping behind the picturesque frame of the candy-encrusted landscape…

--

Inside Whole Cake Chateau, the highest of extravagance was on full display. The smell as you stepped inside the massive cake building was perhaps the most memorable—powerful, luscious notes of candy corn, lollipops, gumdrops, marshmallow, chocolate all tickled your nose in unison yet each distinct. The large buffet table to your right was a mountain of confections modeled after zombie parts, skeletons, bat wings. The serving dishes were massive and well-stocked, an army of chefs and rook knights replacing every calorie taken from the table with finesse and speed. To your center, a red velvet chocolate fountain so large that it rivaled an Olympic swimming pool. Guests dotted every corner of the ballroom to your left, dressed from head-to-toe in expensive costumes of classic horror creatures, characters from the latest trends, jokes, and other displays of amazement and fantasy.

You recognized some of the partygoers, primarily from your work as a baker in the cracker bakery housed on Biscuits Island. Visitors from across the entire archipelago came to your workplace to place orders for customized cracker flooring—the area’s edible replacement for tile flooring. While most often you’d seen the Charlotte family’s aides and assistants placing orders at your workplace, some of them preferred to complete the work themselves. Charlotte Katakuri was one of them—an ominous figure he painted against the colorful showroom, tall, dark and quiet. But his attention to detail and patience with ordering the perfect set of cracker floors for each of his projects made you come to realize that there was more than meets the eye with him. He was a figure that intrigued you more than you’d care to admit, but you’d only ever seen him in a work setting. He was a person that you looked forward to seeing, though you held your feelings about him deep within—he seemed too perfect, too unobtainable.

Until today. The most extravagantly dressed you recognized as members of the Charlotte family, who were both the children of the land’s queen as well as its appointed politicians. Charlotte Smoothie stood out immediately, tall as ever, effervescent in a red and blue princely outfit, epaulets encrusted with rhinestones and a beautifully detailed sword laying at her hip, her hair in a low ponytail like a fairytale prince. Charlotte Compote was next to her in a vampiress costume, signature bowl hat filled with a deep red liquid like blood, hair adorned in a slick black wig, fangs poking from red lips, and a beautiful blood red gown, and they appeared to be discussing the décor in detail. Young children in a rainbow assortment of costumes swarmed around their feet, and given their appearances, you could only assume those were younger Charlotte children as they ran in circles at Compote’s feet. From a distance, you spotted a tall figure dressed as Frankenstein’s Monster chatting with a woman dressed as the Bride of Frankenstein, though most of their outfits were obscured by the crowd.

As you approached Compote, another regular of your cracker establishment, you heard Smoothie call out: “Katakuri!” and the Frankenstein’s Monster turned his head. You immediately saw that Katakuri’s skin was painted a pale green that made his pink hair, irises, and tattoo pop in contrast. Steel bolts were attached to each side of his head, and his mouth was covered, as usual, by a scarf, although this one was tattered and worn to fit the outfit. Before she could say anymore, Katakuri was there, crouching down and saying something to the children with a gentle, yet stern look in the eyes peering above his tattered scarf. The way they stopped and listened to him so intently was telling of their respect for him—could these be his own children? Ah, well. After he spoke to them, they became quiet and orderly, walking single file towards the pink candy spiral staircase leading up to the second floor. The woman dressed as his bride showed up behind him, cooing, “Oh Katakuri—you’re always so good with them.” With a nod of acknowledgement, he stood back up silently, and noticed you standing 15 feet from them, staring directly at him. He looked at you up and down, and blinked.

“You’re the one from Cracker’s bakery,” he uttered at you with the gentlest hint of a furrow in his brow. The woman dressed as Frankenstein’s Bride next to him grimaced, the wrinkles in her face scrunching to her brow as she failed to hide her frustration. You felt an ounce of hostility from her, and wondered if she had somehow noticed your fascination with Katakuri…

You nodded coyly in response and approached the group of large individuals, but before you could try to politely continue the conversation, you felt a smack on the flat of your back. A large figure leaned in next to you, grin penetrating a hole in the side of your face. “You made it! I’m so glad,” Cracker exclaimed a little too loudly in your ear.

Smoothie groaned, “speak of the devil…” and Cracker gave her a smirk as he acknowledged his siblings standing before him in a circle on the ballroom floor. You noticed Cracker wore a bordering childish lion costume with a mane created from craft paper. Compared to the other costumes, it didn’t make sense to you until you saw him later on in the evening next to the rest of the Wizard of Oz cast…Mont-d’Or in a scarecrow costume, Moscato in a tin man costume, and Poire in an adorable and well-crafted Dorothy costume. You had learned their names because they all stood together in a line to be judged at the costume contest you watched later in the evening.

The siblings bantered around you, discussing each others’ outfits, nearly forgetting you standing there, small in stature and already quiet to begin with. You craned your neck to follow the conversation going on in the air above you.

It struck you as a bit odd that Cracker invited you, one of many employees of his, to this party. There was no one else from your workplace you recognized. On top of that, the Charlotte family all in a single room was a party entirely on its own, without any need for additional guests. This party appeared to be much the same, thick with Charlotte blood, common folk mostly appearing in (Halloween-themed) serving garb, some friends and in-laws dotted between the unusual shapes and sizes of the Charlottes.

--

You mostly enjoyed yourself throughout the party, learning everyone’s names and becoming more familiar with Cracker’s close siblings. The woman Katakuri was with was named Brulee, though you spent most of the night averting your eyes from them, feeling awkward for having ever had a crush on him. Of course he had a wife, or a girlfriend, or whoever she was.

Instead, you paid attention to the costume contest put on by Perosperos and Charlotte Linlin. The contest’s comically large scroll full of rules that’d been penned throughout the years of their lives together as siblings was read through at the very beginning like a very boring educational speech. Poire explained to you that it basically boiled down to: “make your costume yourself, don’t use devil fruits, and anyone discovered cheating on either of those rules would be banned from participating in the costume contest forever.” After learning that, your eyes opened to the absolute craftsmanship of this family’s dedicated costumers. Even the worst costumes such as Cracker’s childish lion seemed less bad after considering the amount of work he had spent at a craft table, hot gluing whiskers to his hand-sewn furry hood.

You had come wearing a mummy costume, but it was store bought and nothing special. Just something cobbled together last minute in preparation for the party, so you had no reason to enter the contest.

There was no real prize beyond the ability to brag—but bragging rights were an incredibly important prize to the Charlottes, and doubly so when a party was involved. Even a cool woman such as Smoothie was swayed by its power, giving her all to craft the most beautifully detailed prince costume this year in the hopes of winning. A teenaged girl named Flampe was swarmed with chess knights all dressed up in the theme of her costume: a musician with all of her adoring fans. You weren’t really sure what popstar she was supposed to be—her skin was painted like a skeleton, hair curled densely, a large crown upon her head, heart shaped sunglasses resting on her head with an orange feather boa around her shoulders. She held a green guitar shaped like a shark that she never actually tried to play. Given how nearly everyone in the room watched her entrance and participation on the stage, you guessed it was someone famous.

Later on in the event, you noted that Katakuri and Brulee joined as a team with their matching Frankenstein and Bride of Frankenstein outfits. You wouldn’t have pegged Katakuri as the type to want bragging rights for anything, but the crowd’s response to them was incredible—for Katakuri in particular. Oven noticed your surprise. He leaned down to you and explained, “he’s been voted the most popular brother, after all. He’s cool, perfect, and utterly undefeated in battle.”

In the end, the costume contest voting boiled down into a popularity contest, as things so often do within the family’s politics. Charlotte Linlin, dressed in the most expensive and extravagant Queen costume, sat at the large chair behind the judge’s table and laughed her signature “mama-mama” when she counted the results. Flampe’s skeleton musician-themed group was the winner and she accepted the honor with the smallest amount of grace, followed by Katakuri and Brulee’s Frankenstein pair in second.

--

The party came to a close, its music dying down, the youngest children all retired to bed or gone home. You’d been invited upstairs into one of the many candy-rococo rooms in the upper echelons of the Whole Cake Chateau by Cracker, and sat on the floor with a grouping of older Charlottes and friends sitting in a circle, all laughing and chatting. Katakuri and the woman he was with were there.

You’d chosen dare. A bottle was spun in the middle of the group. Whoever it landed on would be the second player of 7 Minutes in Heaven—a game typically played by hormone-ridden teens looking to make out in a closet. But you were adults, joking around. You’d been recruited as the first player in a game of 7 Minutes in Heaven, which made you feel a bit uncomfortable—this was a party your boss invited you to, after all. You weren't usually a dare person either, but you’d never gotten to play spin the bottle growing up, so you figured why not. The gentle haze of an alcoholic beverage helped, too.

The bottle stopped. Of all the people in the circle, it pointed at Charlotte Katakuri. Brulee looked uncomfortable, but didn’t say anything—why would a married couple play this game? You thought to yourself. But in the single night you knew him, Perosperos was the one making up the rules, and he was a stickler for those.  You decided not to protest. Maybe you’d stand silently in the closet for 7 minutes with the perfectly terrifying Katakuri as he gazed down upon you in the darkness.

Words were exchanged, and you were both sent to the closet for 7 minutes of heaven.

You entered the dark closet, shuffling in and out of a multitude of large dresses belonging to Charlotte Linlin, the fabric nearly engulfing you. The door shut behind you both, and a voice rang out, “timer starts now! Don’t get too naughty, you two!” followed by Brulee’s audible groan.

You heard Katakuri audibly gulp above you. The feelings of shock and nervousness had blinded you to his expressions, so now that you were smashed together in the dark, you had absolutely no read on him whatsoever.

So you quietly asked, “Katakuri…?”

“Yes,” he answered.

“Why did you—aren’t you married? Isn’t this weird?” but you were interrupted by a large gloved hand on your shoulder, sending a wave of nervousness in a whirlwind through your body.

“I am not married,” he responded, simply.

You gulped, biting your lip.

“But, Brulee…?” you responded in your head, but the words didn’t come out. Somehow, he heard you anyway.

“Brulee is my sister. She likes scary movies a lot, so we dressed up for the contest.” He changed the subject. “I think your costume is nice,” he gestured, withdrawing his hand on your shoulder to touch the fabric with a respectful tap of his finger, unable to point in the darkness.

“Wait, then whose kids were—well...Okay. Thank you,” and you laughed a little as you went along with him. “If you’re wondering, I didn’t make it. The mummy wraps came pre-stained.”

“Oh?”

“I didn’t know you guys had all these rules. Hell, I didn’t even know there was a contest. I just grabbed something from one of the shops last minute. You did such a great job on your costume, I feel embarrassed for you to even have to look at me! Cracker didn’t even tell me about this party until the day before.”

Katakuri sighed. “Sorry.”

“What’re you apologizing for?”

“He invited you because of me.”

You didn’t understand what he meant. Katakuri continued.

“I…mentioned you once...” That revelation piqued your interest. He talked about you? Why?

Katakuri shifted his weight from one foot to another, causing some of the dresses around you to move. “Because I thought you were…cute.” The words choked out of him, you could almost feel the heat of his blushing cheeks radiating from above you as he spoke. He cleared his throat.

“Let’s talk about something else.”

An awkward silence filled the closet—he’d stunned you twice in a row, first with the truth about his relationship status, and second, that he’d requited your attraction. What to do?

Katakuri cleared his throat again, uncomfortable and trapped in a closet with his head nearly touching the ceiling, stuffed awkwardly against the shelf with the person he’d just admitted he liked. You wanted to respect his request to drop the subject, so you didn’t push it.

Following his earlier lead, you offered a compliment. “I like your costume too.” You lightly touched the thick canvas fabric of his baggy pants where they tucked into his heavy platform boots, outlining a patch stitched with wide embroidery thread. “You really made all this yourself?”

The leg under your hand shifted in its pants as Katakuri kneeled before you, pushing Big Mom’s hanging clothes surrounding you out of the way by sheer size of his frame. A protective arm rested on the floor next to you, and he uttered, “Yes. The rules are very explicit. You can incorporate basic, store-bought items such as shirts, pants, but they must be modified in some tangible way.”

“Is it okay if I touch?” you asked, not wanting to be too presumptuous. You continued, “I didn’t have much of a chance to look at your costume too closely, but it must be good if you won second place.”

“I worked hard on it, but I am not sure it was deserving of second place. You’re welcome to touch it.” The air felt less thick between you as the awkwardness simmered into a cool comfort.

You explored the details of his costume in the darkness, your hands small against the 16’ man’s frame. The large arm resting on the ground next to you was adorned in the sleeve of a thick blazer, artificially weathered by his own hands, its threads exposed and rough with rips and tears near the seams. Thickly woven patches were sewn into his entire suit using embroidery thread. The blazer was opened at the center to reveal his shirtless chest, and although you couldn’t feel it, you remembered how his skin had been carefully painted green around the pink tattoos, and how the juxtaposition of those two colors created such a bright and engaging contrast on his skin.

“Did you sew the patches with a machine? The detailing feels so even,” you asked as you felt the perfectly squared stitching, betraying the imperfect nature of the Frankenstein Monster.

“I sewed all of the modifications by hand, though the jacket and pants were something I had already owned. Have a couple of injuries on my fingers to prove it.” Katakuri replied as he twisted his wrist, opening his palm next to you.

“You? Injuries? One of your brothers told me you were undefeated. To think you’d been bested by a needle and thread…” Reaching down to his hand, you ran yours against his palm to the ends of his fingertips. He let out the lightest flinch when your hand pressed against a small needle injury at the end of his pointer finger.

“How the mighty fall,” he answered with a spark of amusement.

Resolving not to waste this private moment, he made a move.

Katakuri wrapped his hand around yours, and with the softest motion, pulled you in towards his body as he leaned his head down. You were close enough to him to feel the warmth radiating from his core. You swore you smelled a hint of fried dough. The ruggedly tattered scarf wrapped around his lower face tickled your skin as electricity grew between you and the seconds stretched into what felt like minutes. You were so close that you felt his breath on your nose, but the scarf stayed put as a barrier between you. You looked into the eyes you couldn’t see in the darkness, and yearned for the touch of his lips against yours.

Both yourself and Katakuri imagined the feel of each others’ lips pressed against skin, the taste, the touch, the smell—although you had no idea what his mouth looked like. He always covered it, so your imagination ran wild in the dark. You kissed the scarred and torn lips of the face you imagined in your head, then you kissed a mouth with sharp teeth so pointed that your own lips were cut in the process. Maybe he had big cute buck teeth under there that stuck through a pair of swollen lips. You kissed that too. Your imagination ran through the possibilities like a rolodex, and each was good, wonderous, and electric.

Meanwhile, Katakuri’s rolodex of imagined scenarios was not so idyllic. He imagined the multitude of ways in which you’d reject him, how you’d take his scarf from him and embarrass him, how you’d reveal the secret of his mouth to the entire world, painting a target on the backs of all his siblings. He remembered all of his past relationship failures, and most of all, he remembered the great bloody wound across his sister Brulee’s face as he stood there powerlessly. He froze.

The hesitation began to hang thick in the air like a fog, and you were nearly able to feel the discomfort circulating from his body. You weren’t sure what changed. Time had been dilating and you wondered how much longer the 7 minutes would last.

You took your chance.

You grasped his hand which held yours so gently but stiffly, and pulled it close enough to plant a sweet kiss upon the top of his painted knuckle. Underneath your lips, his body notably relaxed. The gesture brought him back to reality.

Katakuri’s eyes glinted with the color of the future, where he saw the moment the door opened to light, just moments away. In a flash, he pulled your hand through his scarf to his lips and returned the kiss so quickly that you could hardly process what might be under there by feel. He then stood straight up and gave you both a once over that lasted no more than a single second, any hair or mummy wrapping out of place put in its proper configuration by the quickest swipe of his finger. As if nothing had happened.

The door opened.

His siblings joked, poked, prodded, and laughed at what they thought may or may not had happened between the two of you. He spent the rest of the night avoiding your eyes, as if nothing had happened. Eventually, his siblings dropped the subject. Deep down, they were rooting for Katakuri—most of the older Charlotte children had already been married, through virtue (or iniquity) of arranged marriage. But perhaps the strongest and most perfect Charlotte, intentionally held from the world of political marriage, would be allowed to pick his own partner.

The party moved on. Other games were played, other topics broached, other siblings bullied and jested and the family was having a great time. Katakuri thought he’d gotten away with keeping up his perfect illusion that he’d kept his distance during the closet game, but sometime later, his eyes widened at you like plates, face turning red under his scarf, burning through the green face paint. He observed his hand and saw a hardly noticeable kiss mark on his knuckle. It’s already too late, he thought to himself.

Seconds later, Cracker’s burst of laughter turned the entire room to your face.

“Hold on, hold on! Your lips are GREEN!”

“GREEN?!”

“What did those two get up to…?”

“Katakuri! You DOG!”

Brulee looked concerned and attempted to play interference by standing between you and Katakuri to block the line of sight. She’d grown to be very protective of him, knowing that his hidden heart was kind and undeserving of the expectations those had thrust upon him. While she knew he was truly not the perfect being the world had decided him to be, she would do anything to help him protect that because it is what he had chose.

Despite Brulee getting in the center of it, the chatter raged on, the rumors spread, and you gained some kind of reputation. Your eyes met Katakuri’s as he leaned over Brulee to look at you. You furrowed your brows at each other.

The start of a beautiful relationship…