#i can treat this team right…PLEASE

[samarecharm]

FINALLY. GOLD EGGSTRA WORK BADGE !!!

[themyscirah]

Complaining abt Suicide Squad yet again but the fact that they have Waller exposing the alien community to space racist attacks and talking abt how she got to her position through deceit and being a terrible person and stuff is just. Ahsfiwueh JUST SAY YOU DONT KNOW WALLER.

Anyways literally the 3rd mission of the Squad ever (and the first framed as smth Waller picked and not orders from above) was the Squad discrediting and stopping a rogue vigilante who was only arresting POC and funneling white people into white supremacy groups (of which he was the most prominent member) in SUICIDE SQUAD #4. and it's explicitly framed as this mission being personal for Waller that she's hiding from the government bc its illegal like. Guys. Please why are we having her incite (space bc comics) racist attacks now

Also the whole "Amanda got her position through deceit and being a terrible person" NO. she KEPT her position through being shitty and playing complicated political games!!! She wasn't always that way like there is a difference and it is IMPORTANT ppl PLEASEEEE. In Secret Origins #14 we learn Amanda's backstory and she used to be a normal, caring person! Like even after she entered into working in government and politics she wasn't automatically morally bankrupt like please people. She was originally given control of the Squad by Reagan (*sigh* 80s comics...) to distract and get rid of her because she was so successful at pushing progressive social policy in Congress. Acting like she's this static pillar of evil is such a waste of her character and so fucking uninteresting and disrespectful to her arc it drives me MAD.

Like I am NOT saying Waller is all sunshine and rainbows, she fucking SUCKS (said w love <3) but like there's a human being there. It's a progression, she has a character arc like please, DC, please!!! They've fucked up Waller so bad and made her so opaque and uninteresting she can't even be the protagonist of her own story for fucks sake!

Like I don't know how many times I have to scream it until DC hears me or remembers but WALLER IS THE MAIN CHARACTER OF SUICIDE SQUAD. ITS HER BOOK. yet right now she's a cutout to be used as the villain wherever the writers please. Even in her book we get none of her perspective really displayed, no exploration of her thoughts with any kind of understanding of the role she traditionally has played and was made to play in the story.

[leafatlaw]

See I agree with like zero of what Kab was saying, but she did bring up an interesting point about who Zam considers “innocent” players. Because that’s been an issue I’ve had since the beginning with the new oath. Because morality is very complicated and I feel like in this case kab IS innocent because she didn’t go looking for the fight and lost two hearts to him. BUT it’s zams own positive relationship with derap that keeps him from being objective, which is a fatal flaw with the oath in the first place. If Zam cannot be objective about who is or isn’t innocent than the entire oath is useless. And worse it’s debatably impossible to say wether or not people are innocent or evil, because individual ideas of morality is just a subjective thing !!

Anyways this is basically all to say that Zams oath and ideas are fundamentally flawed and it’s a little worrying that he’s so set in these ideas that he refused to listen to Kab on this outright.

[shalom-iamcominghome]

I don't want to get too into this, but I feel like it's really telling seeing somebody say that they can't care about Israeli hostages because there are Palestinian hostages, including children (from what I know and last I checked... there are/were also Israeli child hostages)

Is it really that you can only hold support for one group at a time, or is it that you do not want to? Hostage situations are inherently wrong, but I find it interesting when people essentially permit it to happen if it's "worse" for one side. I want to emphasize: hostage situations are inherently wrong, even if you think one side is being "worse" about it. No matter the age, gender, or community they came from, I want civilians (especially civilians who had no involvement with conflicts) to be able to live and THRIVE. Anything less than that is appallingly horrific and unconscionable.

[what-even-is-thiss]

The reason people don’t want to work is that it’s just normal for them to be in bad work environments.

My issue with working at Walmart wasn’t the work itself I was doing. It was the circumstances around it. The concrete floor, lack of places to sit, having to put up with asshole customers, not getting time off for injuries, and bad pay.

If I had been given shock pads to stand on or a few chairs to rest on sometimes, if they paid me a livable amount of money and I was allowed to yell back at asshole customers, if they had given me any amount of training, I would happily work part time folding clothes all day and telling people where the swimsuit section is.

I’m a creative type. I’m a writer. I’m pretty smart, even. But if I could make a living folding shirts and listening to podcasts in one ear and helping people find the scented candles for 30 hours a week? I would. Leaves some mental space free for me to brainstorm. Lets me catch up on my reading with audiobooks.

But instead I was treated so badly by upper management and customers that I’m like legitimately a little frightened whenever I step into a Walmart now. And I only worked there for three months a few years ago.

I’m a good lower level worker. When I’m treated well. I like finishing tasks. I like being helpful. I like having some time to talk to coworkers and some time alone with my thoughts. I’m a frickin team player. And that’s how I was at my first job. I was treated well by my supervisor. I was trained. They were patient with me. I was so good at being low on the totem pole at that job because I was valued and felt like I was being listened to. I was able to sit still when there was nothing left to do which made it feel less bad when we were on a time crunch. I didn’t mind working hard at that job because it was fun even though I was doing all the low level stuff that the supervisors didn’t want do.

But at Walmart I was like that for all of two days. Then I figured out that nobody appreciated my work and if I worked in my normal people pleasing manner I’d kill myself because their standards were high and the rewards for meeting them were low.

So I slowed down. I started avoiding customers. I started taking a lot longer to get to my breaks and to come back from them. I became worse at my job because no matter how good I was at it there would be no reward, no appreciation, and I’d just be pushed further beyond my limits.

My only level of happiness from that job came from the people who were working with me. The old ladies and my department manager who made sure I wasn’t overextending myself. The one other young man working in the clothing department who always got sent with me to unload the heavy stuff and commiserated with me about the shoulder injuries, the hurting feet we were too young to have.

But none of that was enough to make me stay. We were constantly understaffed. I was constantly abused by customers and not able to do a thing about it. I was not paid much at all. So as soon as I had enough saved up for what I was trying to do and my last semester of college was about to start I handed in my two weeks.

I would have found a way to stay if I liked that job. If I liked that job I would’ve pushed myself to my mental limits to finish college and keep that job at the same time. Heck that job could’ve been a rest from college. A place to get away from it. But I hate that job so I got out as soon as I could.

I want to work. I want enough money to live sort of comfortably. I want to have some tasks to do to give my creativity a rest. I want to be a part of something. But the way that modern corporate run work environments are set up does not give me any of the things I actually want out of a job. And I think that’s the same for millions of people right now. A lot of people would happily spend their lives as a waitress or an Uber driver or a warehouse worker or a farmhand or any other “low skill” job you can possibly think of. But with the way the world works right now those jobs are absolutely miserable. It doesn’t have to be that way. I know because I’ve had a fulfilling part time minimum wage job that I looked forward to going to every week. A job where I was listened to and allowed to sit when I needed to. I miss that job. Especially now since I’ve realized that’s not the standard. It should be. People should look forward to going to work or at the very least not get mild ptsd whenever they set foot into a Walmart.

[thinkinonsense]

cw: face sitting, fingering, squirting, slight inspection kink

"c'mon sweets, let me get a good look atcha." logan's voice rang in your ears.

you had been so good for him all day. he asked for one day of relaxation before he had to go on another mission tomorrow with the team. so you made sure that he was well fed for the day, had a pack of cigars ready for him and a new bottle of whiskey in the kitchen.

the two of you spent the day in his room, lounging around in each others arms while he reads and you sit curled up next to him. after hours of you playing with his hair, he decided to treat you for the rest of the evening.

which brings the two of you to this moment where logan's got you bend over face down ass up and spread open for his viewing pleasure. it's obscene the position he has you in. folds spread and glistening in the low light of his bedroom. your sweet arousal holds him hostage.

"please, lo." you beg, arching back even more. "been good for you all day."

"i know you have, baby." he purrs rubbing the back of your thighs. "such a good girl for me."

those few words could've started a puddle underneath you. he's lapping up the slick running down your leg. running his hot tongue over the plush skin.

"prettiest fuckin' pussy i've ever seen." he groans, smacking your ass playfully.

logan adjusts himself under you, letting you sit on his face. he pushes you down on his awaiting tongue, lapping your arousal up like a thirsty dog.

"use my face, princess." logan pleads, holding you down on his face.

"d-don't wanna hurt you, lo." you whimper, feeling his nose bump your clit.

he chuckled before grinding you down harder and licking at your entrance. the second the muscle makes its way past your gummy wall, you can't help but start moving faster on his face, using his nose for your own pleasure.

"oh, f-fuck." you moan, lacing your fingers in his hair and tugging.

logan knew your cunt like the back of his hand. he spent time memorizing every little thing that made you fall apart.

"i'm so c-close!"

a loud squeal slips past your lips when his fingers replace his tongue. fast paced and rough, just the way you like it. filth pours from below, "practically swallowing my fingers, sweetheart."

right on the edge of pleasure, logan flicks his tongue over your bundle of nerves while he nudges your cervix. your hips have a mind of their own as the move across his face, searching for a euphoria that only logan can give you.

a sudden warmth floods your tummy in a way you've never felt before during sex.

"w-wait, lo!" you squeal, afraid of losing control of your own fluids. "need to s-stop!"

despite your words, your lower half only contradicted them. thighs wrapped nicely around logan's head while your nails scratch at his scalp. he's moaning into your cunt, already knowing what's coming.

"gonna- ah!"

a splash on slick covers logan's face, your thighs, and the sheets under you two. he couldn't believe his sweet girl could turn into a fucking fountain just from his fingers. this only further spurs logan on, needing to lick you clean. your thighs tremble and soft gasps pour from your glossy lips.

"need a break, baby." you whine, giving his hair a sharp touch to pull him off of you. or else he would be there all night.

"just a break." he says, moving you down to sit on his abs which only further overstimulates your soaked cunt. "cause i'm nowhere near done with you tonight."

[awarmbowlofhomemadesoup]

What I love about Dungeon Meshi is that it writes platonic relationships with the same weight romantic stories would normally be written.

The Character that Got Their Heart Broken Too Many Times

Humanity broke Laois' heart. This is taken advantage later on by the Wingled Lion, but I digress.

Laois got bullied in all-boys school to the point that he ran away to become a soldier. Heartbreak #1.

He got harrassed in the training camp to the point that he became a deserter. Heartbreak #2.

The combination of these events were so bad, his lack of basic self-care can be a sign of a depressive state. If Falin hadn't joined him, who knows what would've happened to him.

Laois was so happy when he became friends with Shuro and felt so betrayed when Toshiro said he couldn't stand him. Not exactly a heartbreak #3 but it hurt all the same. They got past it but Laois remembers.

And when Kabru, for once in his life, stopped playing poker and laid down his cards, Laois wasn't going to let his heart be hurt for the fourth time.

The biggest thing that stands out to me in this manner is how Kabru's blurted confession of wanting to be friends with Laois was treated as much as a big revelation as a romantic one. Because the weight of that confession is Kabru's character development.

The Character Whose Sincerity Doesn't Come Easy for Him

This guy grew up being infantilized and not taken seriously by the elves for being a short-lived race. So, he honed diplomacy as sharp as his assassin's blade.

He knows the right things to say and when to say them, making him well-liked by everyone (much to his team's chagrin over their loved ones). And yet his personal cause puts a distance between him and his trusted teammates (including his childhood friend).

To say his true feelings and thoughts would end up with long-lived races dismissing him for being unwise and irrational.

So he keeps his cards to himself and works with subtlety throughout the manga, until things got worse, and he couldn't make Laois stay.

And he was left with nothing but to be sincere.

Right from the start, he said he wanted the Touden siblings to be unmasked. But in the end, he unmasked himself, much to his horror.

Addition edit: Kabru has been keeping his cards close to himself for so long, I don't think he realized what he really feels until he blurted it out. He chased after Laois throughout the dungeon because Laois might defeat the mad sorcerer. But for a guy who wants to understand everyone, he never understands what he feels about Laois and what that feeling means until his brain catches up with his mouth.

After decking Laois for not believing him, Kabru elaborated in his confession. He has developed a platonic crush (plush for short) or desire to be friends with Laois because:

1. Kabru wants to understand how Laois could love the very thing Kabru hates. Hate is just another face of fear. We fear what we don't understand. To understand Laois is to understand monsters. I think Kabru finds it admirable that Laois could admire monsters when everyone just view them as a threat.

2. He wants Laois to care about the same thing he does, which is saving humanity. Laois and co. are willing to side with the demon to protect Marcille from the Canaries. By asking to be Laois friend, Kabru becomes Laois' link to humanity that whatever they would do from there with the demon, please don't forget how it might affect other people outside his friends. And by gods, this is important to Kabru's development because he has never asked for help for his cause nor asked anyone to care because he's too used to the self-serving nature of all races. And yet, he chose to believe in Laois. Because if Laois could go that for his sister and elven friend, what more if he could do the same for what Kabru cares the most?

However, it was only in the end that they were able to talk after things had settled down. And they are so different and so alike at the same time.

Source

In this scene, there are two differing thoughts:

Laois, who experienced social rejection growing up: Do you still mean it?

Kabru, who had to deal with those of higher power: Are you testing me?

But they're still thinking the same thing: Is this real?

Like, all of their motivations have the weight often molded into romantic plots in any other story. A character who got their heart broken too many times and another character whose honesty does not come easy for them. But it's not a romantic story, but a start of a beautiful friendship.

There are more examples out there, but this is what came to my mind. Feel free to add more.

[yourcutelittlegayfriend]

Imagine this

I've been reading some of this good fics about Yandere Batfam x neglected Reader and it got me thinking.

In some of this fic, usually it's Alfred that has given the reader some love and have not neglected the poor thing and I was like,

What if Reader is still neglected by the batfam but Alfred gave them enough love so much that reader just decided to stay just for Alfred and Reader really just treated Alfred as their real Father or Grandfather.

Where Reader just let go of any expectation from getting attention from the others and just strive to make Alfred proud and happy.

How the turns have table

Imagine reader walking pass the others not bothering to greet them as they look for Alfred instead and other stuff.

Dick seeing them practically skipping as they clutch on a medal hanging on their neck.

"Woah hey!-...um whatcha got-". He tries to say but doesn't get any answers because you were busy muttering to yourself 'I got first place! I have to show this to Alfred!' as you giggle while looking down at the medal and sprint away when you see a glimpse of the butler at the distance.

How instead of begging for the others to train you and become a vigilante, you ask Alfred to train you for self-defense (especially the stuff from his spy days).

Jason was the first to arrive at the manor when the team heard about some intruders getting in but halted when he sees you tying up the unconscious thugs on the floor.

"Hey Alfred is this right?". You didn't pay them any mind when some of them pile in as you pay attention to Alfred who was praising you and giving you more good defense tips while you and him pull the unconscious people out.

How you spend healthy family time with Alfred by helping him in cooking and chores that earns you some knowledge of the recipes from his famous dishes.

Tim was trying to grab a coffee when he sees you having a fun time with Alfred as you skillfully prepare for dinner and actually have good laughs with him.

"Okay, then after I fold this I should add some paprika, right?". You ask the butler as he smiles at you while sipping on the tea that you made for him.

"Yes, you're correct once again young miss/master". He said while humming after drinking the tea indicating how good it is.

Tim can practically see you lighting up as you cheered a 'yes!' from Alfred's confirmation.

How you revolved your time and passion to Alfred and actually deciding that only Alfred is the one you should waste your time on.

Damian wonders around the manor when you and him bump into one another.

"And what are YOU doing walking around MY Father's manor?". He asks while glaring at you.

you just sigh and turn while clutching away the art supplies you bought so you can paint in the garden with Alfred.

"Walking away from you that's what I'm doing". you tell him as you turn the other way not even bothering to argue with the boy anymore.

How you do well in your studies and aim to get a good degree/phd and act like a proper man/lady but not because you want to keep up to being a Wayne but to see Alfred's proud face as he watches you stand on the stage as you show him your diploma/degree certificate.

Bruce decided to take a walk from sitting down for too long when he walk pass a framed picture on the hallway near Alfred's room and double takes when he sees you and Alfred standing together with while you were wearing a toga and cap holding not just any graduation certificate but a college one as the both of you look so happy and him seeing Alfred having that loving and well pleased expression something he rarely sees from Alfred after becoming the crusading dark knight.

Looking at the date he couldn't believe that it has been more that a few years since the graduation happened.

All of the family who used to ignore you suddenly took a different turn and started to try and get your attention but they fail to see that you already moved on from them and only cared about the one person that have literally loved you from the beginning.

Bonus:

Imagine Thomas and Martha Wayne was mysteriously revived for a day and met the family but was deeply disappointed to the others and took a special liking to reader because Alfred has said many good things about them and them especially getting many good degrees something that the rest haven't gotten yet or never bothered to get (this is my hot take because my family are hellbent on us cousins to finish school) and you know for a fact that Alfred is really REALLY proud of the kid that he raised preciously

[cheriladycl01]

Fan Zone Fanatic - Lando Norris x Anxiety! Reader

Plot: You love taking the F1 bracelets off of fans because you will play with them whenever you get anxious and they are a source of comfort for you now.

(I literally do this with my bracelets lmao)

One thing you absolutely adored was fan interaction. As much as you got really anxious in large crowds with overstimulating sounds and smells, you loved helping give gifts to Lando and guide him to younger fans with caps pushed to the back and hold his own hand for comfort when he too got overwhelmed from the amount of people yelling his name.

Right now you were at the gates to the paddock and you were walking through hand in hand with Lando. When you saw a load of fans at the entrance.

“Lando! Lando”

“Come sign my helmet please”

“Lando I have something for you”

“Y/N”

Loads of voices came at one, you smile at Lando and nod your head over to the fans starting to drag him over to the fencing.

“Omg Y/N” one cries handing you a pretty generic McLaren hat, you take it to pass to Lando until she shakes her head.

“I want you to sign it! I’ve already got Landos” she smiles and you laugh, loving that people wanted your signature too.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to ruin it!” You smile kindly at her and she nods again. You sign it and then she pulls a clip of the friendship bracelets out.

“Please take one” she smiles and beofre you know it, you have loads of girls gifting you friendship bracelets off their bags.

Before you know it, you have all sorts of bracelets covering your arms.

There was mainly Lando and McLaren ones, but a few Chili or Enjoy the butterfly’s ones snuck their way onto your wrist that when you were showing Lando all of them once you got into the paddock he was laughing so hard.

“I think my fans love you more than they love me if I’m being honest, they’re always so sweet and respectful to you” he smiles as he shifts through the bracelets before he finds one with your name on it that he takes off your own wrists and places it on his own. “This one im keeping” he comments.

“I think I might head to the fanzone today, deck myself out in McLaren merch and just see what happens” you grin and he looks at you with a furrowed brow.

“Are you sure baby? I don’t think that’s a great idea, you’ve never experienced the fans without a barrier or anything …” he offers and you nod your head knowing what your getting yourself into.

“I know but I want to interact and I’m kind of obsessed with these bracelets now and I kind of want more of them!” You nod having made up your mind fully with a small smile matching it.

“Okay baby, but just keep one of the security with you. Just so they can help you out if needed. You don’t have to walk with them but just keep them close yeah? Take Dave, you like Dave right?” Lando says immediately concerned about you.

“I’ll take Dave just for you’re own piece of mind” you tease lightly nudging him before you take his team hat and grab one of his spare team tops.

“How do i look” you say with a twirl before ending with a hand in your hip.

“Beautiful” Lando mutters with heart eyes as he looks over at you.

Lando if he was being honest, never had it so good. You were literally perfect in his eyes. You treated him so well, and there wasn’t a singular moment he didn’t feel lucky to experience the weird and wonderful phenomena we call life.

“Stop it, you’re making me blush” you comment and he just laughs before kissing your cheek and sending you off.

“Don’t be gone too long okay! And check in with me! Please?” He asks.

“Ooooo wait can I buy some hats and get you to sign them please?!? I can hand them out in exchange for bracelets” you grin and before you know it you’ve got Lando signing as many hats as you could possibly fit in one bag.

He ended up signing 60 hats in the span of 20 minutes which is pretty impressive, considering he has to break to make out with you for 5 of those. Lando was an exceptionally clingy boyfriend.

Eventually you leave waving goodbye to him and smiling.

You walk out of the paddock entrance and around to the main gate. Where you’ve got the sunglasses and baseball cap on, it’s kind of hard to notice who you actually are so you were pretty confident that you could walk through pretty happily.

You noticed Dave, not too close and not too far. You walked into the fan zone seeing all the stools and shops with merch from different teams and the smell of the greasy hot dogs and chips.

You were just walking looking through one of the McLaren stands and about to pick up a Lando Norris t-shirt when a small tap was felt on your thigh. You turn round seeing a little girl, maybe 6 or 7.

“Hiya” you smile and the mum asks if you want to trade bracelets. You nod happily and show her your arms of the ones you had and she sees the LN4 one with his helmet design.

“Oh that’s a good one, Landos helmet” you grin and smile at her kindly taking it off your own wrist and putting it around hers.

“Woah you have so many” you laugh lightly seeing up to her elbows covered in them.

“Take two if you would like” the mum smiles and you nod.

“Why don’t you choose one for me, and then I’ll choose another one?” You ask the young girl and she nods excitedly looking over her arms before picking out a Max one.

“Max huh” you grin taking the MaxV33 off her and pulling it around your own wrist.

“I think I’ll take this one too, my goal today is to get one of every driver” you smile and she grins seeing you take the Zhou Guanyu one.

“I also have something I want to give you from Lando” you grin and she looks excited.

You pull out the signed hat and she squeals, looking over the signature.

“Thank you thank you thank you!” She grins and pulls you into a hug. You laugh back and go to offer the mum one, but she politely shakes her head.

“Keep them for the youngsters” she smiles and you nod. The little girl finally lets go and hands the old hat back to her mum before putting the new signed on.

“Awww look at that! You look so cool!” You exclaim and the girl giggles more.

You say goodbye and get back to shopping. You end up buying an overpriced Lando top despite you wearing official staff uniform as of right now and thank the very shocked worker who asks for you picture once you’ve payed. You offer her a hat but refuses as she got one earlier before her shift from the paddock entrance.

You head into the heart of the fanzone where the sims are and all the other interactive stuff they put on for the fans. You can hear music from the massive stage, which is slowly starting to fill up.

20 minutes until Ferrari on stage.

1 hour till McLaren on stage. You knew you were going to go there for the McLaren one.

“Y/N?” You hear from you far left and see 3 girls with two guys behind them.

You smile happily jog over to them.

“Hey!” You grin and one of the girls squeals.

“Do you want some of our bracelets we brought way to many!” The girls admit showing you their bags full of the beaded bracelets.

“How long did this take you guys! These are incredible” you smile looking at all the different colours and types and the fact some had crystals on them. And all the funny messages rather than drivers names.

“Oh it’s nothing, just something we like to do in our free time!” One of the girls nods.

“They’re lying it took them days to prepare these for the race” one of the guys admits and you nod knowing that was far more accurate.

“How many can I take?” You ask looking at them, it was strange because even though these girls looked in their teens and younger than you they were all a lot taller than you. Making you feel kind of strange looking upwards at almost all of them.

“As many as you want” you start to look through. You burst out laughing at one that says Muppet 1 and Muppet 2 in one of the girls bags.

“Can i take both and give one to Lando so we’re matching” and she nods enthusiastically at the thought of Lando himself having one of her bracelets.

“Omg yes! Please please! Do you erm speak to any of the other drivers?” She asks and you nod, you were close with loads of the drivers. Especially their girlfriend as you were a social floater, sometimes you went out shopping with Alexandra, Charles girlfriend. Or going for brunch with Carmen, golfing with Lily or out to dinner with Oscar and his Lily.

“I do, why do you want me to give something?” You ask politely and she nods handing you a T-shirt. You open it up to see a funny print of George Russell T-Posing.

“I’ll make sure when I get back to the paddock to give this to George” you smile and she thanks you profusely.

You got to the next girls bag and find a Yuki Tsunoda One, and a Lando one that was of his Miami win. It had a little palm tree dangly on it and you knew you just had to take it.

And in the last one you picked out a Charles Leclerc and Ferrari one.

“This may seem rude but I don’t want to trade to many bracelets off, I want to keep as many as possible but I have other gifts” you smile and pull 5 signed caps out the bag handing one to each of them.

“They’re signed by Lando” you smile and they all looked shocked and one almost starts to tear up.

“Can I hug you?” One of them asks before you nod and pull her into a hug. You get a group photo before they run off all having really happy faces.

This is why you were so happy to do this, just seeing that smile on random peoples faces knowing you’d made them feel like that was so rewarding.

You walk to the sim racers and see loads of people on them, trying to get in good laps. You were utterly hopeless on Landos at home so there was no way you were trying it here and making a fool out of yourself.

“Girlie! You want a bracelet!” A voice from behind you says and you turn to look.

A girl comes running up to you, showing the clip of beads in front of you.

The afternoon continued like that. You took bracelets and gave people hats in exchange for them. You were thankful nobody had posted the pictures you’d taken with them yet, so it still didn’t feel like you were having people actively come try and find you.

You make your way to the stage seeing it’s pretty empty now that Ferrari have gone and you stand right by the fence where Lando will be able to see you. There’s two guys in McLaren hats next to you, one in a Lando one and one in a Danny Ric one.

“Damn that’s some fossil merch” you joke and they turn to look at you seeing you’re get up. They laugh and nod explaining how they live McLaren but Danny is their driver.

“Who do you support?” One of them asks before his mate bursts out laughing.

“Dude that Lando’s girlfriend” the other one with the DR3 McLaren hat laughs. And you laugh with him before the guys fully takes a look over you and flushes Red.

“I’m so so sorry” he says.

“It’s fine, but of course my driver is Yuki Tsunoda” you tease and they both laugh. You have a nice conversation with them, you’d get Lando to sign their hats when he was on stage.

The guys were really nice, just asking you questions about the paddock on racing and how long you’d followed the sport and it was nice just talking.

However the more people started to fill up the more you got anxious. Unconsciously your hand started to fiddle with the bracelets, lightly snapping them against your skin or pushing the beads from one place to another. The feeling giving you a certain kind of comfort to stimulate you enough that it was a distraction from all the noise around you.

All of a sudden the music gets louder beofre Naomi Schiff comes out to introduce the drivers to the now packed in crowd.

“Hello, how are we all feeling out there? Little warm today isn’t it. We’ll all of you keep hydrated nearest water station is up to your right” she indicates.

“Now without further or do, let’s find your drivers. Here for McLaren, Oscar Piastri and LANDO NORRIS” she calls and both the papaya boys come jogging out onto the stage.

“Hello Lando, Hello Oscar, how are you guys today?” She asks and both of them nod.

“Yeah really good, it’s pretty warm but we’re excited to be here” Lando says and Oscar nods in agreement.

“Yes, I think I’ve drunk 3 big bottles of water and two cans of monster” Oscar jokes and everyone in the crowd laughs.

“Enjoy the summer break?” She asks and they both nod.

“Yeah I got to spend lots of time with my girlfriend in England, and we …” Oscar starts but is interrupted by Lando.

“Oooo girlfriend, your girlfriend” Lando teases making Oscar go bright red in embarrassment.

“Says you, you wouldn’t shut up about Y/N” Oscar pushes back making Lando just laugh. The boys beside you starts whopping and cheering your name trying to point you out and draw attention to the fact your here.

People start to catch on and help to point you out, making you duck your head down in embarrassment as you laugh.

“Oh look Lando we’ve got some fans calling your name over here, oh wait. Is that … Lando is that Y/N” she says holding her que cards above her head to stop the glare of the sun to her eyes so she can get s better look at you.

You smile and wave being very familiar with the woman.

“Oh you’re right, give it up for Landos girlfriend everyone” Naomi cheers and you blush.

“Hi baby” Lando smiles shyly waving at you making you wave back.

“Wait did you chance tops?” He laughs seeing you now in the Lando Norris official team t-shirt. You nod and he just laughs shaking his head.

Before you know it he’s jumped down and is coming over to you. He pulls you into a hug, before signing some stuff around you and going back up to where Oscar is.

“Well, what did you do over the summer. You and Y/N were very present online” she adds knowing you always loved to post online what you and Lando did as it served as memories to share with a wider community.

Also a lot of what you posted have the fans a fix of their delulu needs which you were always happy to do.

“We want to Boa Vista and then we saw Martin Garrix a good friend play in Ibiza, we saw some of the other drivers there too. Went to a Taylor Swift concert, went to Bali and now we’re back here and racing” he grins and you smile at the thought of the summer holidays with Lando.

“Awww well sounds like you had a lovely time and you’re nice and relaxed ready to get racing again. How does it feel knowing how close you are to a championship with Max?” She asks and he nods.

“Looking for a good result this weekend but with my lucky charm here I’m hoping for a win” he nods and after some more questions posed to Oscar and Lando people start to leave the minute they are off the stage.

You keep a hold on one of the bracelets going behind the stage to where Lando is waiting for you. Dave helps you get past the majority of the crowd who some ask for pictures with you and more bracelets are given to you.

You round the corner into the VIP second and a Lando immediately comes up to you wrapping you in a hug.

“That was nice seeing you it there, but I was terrified the whole time with how cramped in you all looked” he admits as he kisses your temple.

“Look how many bracelets I got! Oooo look I have one for you too, a matching one with me” you grin and hand him the muppet number 1 and show him your muppet number 2.

“These are brilliant. I’m happy you enjoyed yourself.” He smiles and walks you over to the car to take you to the paddock.

Going forward you actually wore those bracelets given to you all the time. You and Lando wore the muppet ones everyday but you would change up which ones you’d wear on your other wrist each day but you always made sure you had one especially when you knew it was going to be an anxiety filled day.

The fans would never know how much these bracelets meant to you but you were so thankful.

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[liliacamethyst]

Webs of Fate - Miguel O'Hara (Part II)

Sequel to Web of Secrets

Miguel O'Hara x SpiderSun Reader

words: 5.2K

warnings: secret pregnancy trope, swearing, angst, heartbreak, grumpy/sunshine, smut, time jumps, not really comic accurate (canon events), semi public piv, 18+

Part I Part II Part III Part IV

You are all back at the Spider-Verse Headquarters and the atmosphere is tense. Everyone is still high on adrenaline from the mission. You’re nursing a deep gash on your arm but your spirit is far from broken.

Miguel, however, seems to be on the verge of an explosion.

“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT OUT THERE SPIDER SUN?” he bursts out, his voice echoing through the HQ.

You're taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“That reckless behavior! You could have been killed!” he roars. “Why didn’t you retreat when you were injured?!”

“Because there were lives at stake! I can handle myself, Miguel!” you shout back.

“You think this is a game?! You think being part of this team is just for kicks?” Miguel’s face is red, his voice strained.

“Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare question my dedication!” you yell, your own anger now matching his.

The team is watching, shifting uncomfortably. Gwen looks at Jess, who shakes her head. The room is thick with tension.

Alright, if you are being honest with yourself, your recent actions in the field could definitely be classified as reckless. Perhaps even bordering on idiotic - not that you’d ever confess that in front of Miguel. You didn’t know where your mind went. Wait, no, scratch that. You knew precisely where your thoughts were, every mission since you discovered your pregnancy has been like this; your spider senses dulled, focus scattered to the wind, and reflexes that would’ve made a sloth proud.

And then there was this mission – your first one in quite a while alongside Miguel. He was bound to notice.

So you were fighting an Electro variant from an alternate universe, alongside Jess, Gwen, Ben and Miguel. The electric villain was throwing bolts of energy left and right and everyone was giving their all. You noticed a civilian trapped under some debris. You made a beeline for them, not thinking about anything else.

As you lifted the debris, an energy bolt flew straight for you. Usually, your Spider-Senses would have alerted you but not today. It hit you square in the back and sent you flying.

You hit a wall but ignored the pain as you scrambled back to your feet. A sharp ache spread across your arm but you gritted your teeth and kept fighting.

Miguel yelled, “What the hell are you doing?! Fall back!”

But you didn’t, you kept pushing forward.

He landed next to you, his eyes filled with anger and something else, maybe a hint of worry. He grabbed your waist to pull you back. But as another energy bolt was coming your way, you shoved him out of the path, taking the hit for the second time. So yeah, you could say that this mission wasn't exactly the shining star in your superhero career.

“ESTÚPIDA! So damn stupid. I won’t fucking watch someone throw their life away recklessly!” Miguel was now yelling loudly in oyur face for everyone in the HQ to hear.

“Oh, please. What’s it to you? Since when do you care, Miguel?!” you shout back, finally having enough of his insufferable attitude. “All this time, you’ve treated me like I’m dispensable. Like I don't matter! Well, guess what? I can fight, I can make decisions, and I don’t need you to approve them!”

“Don’t!” Miguel's voice cracks, and for a brief second, there’s a look of hurt on his face that surprises you. But his rage quickly replaces it. “I cannot do this anymore with you, ¿me entiendes?” he yells.

The room falls silent. Everyone’s gazes dart between you and Miguel. You can feel Gwen’s worried eyes on you, and Ben Riley. looks like he wants to intervene, but this moment is too charged.

You take a deep breath, tears welling up. “I can't do this anymore either,” you whisper.

“What?” Miguel's voice is barely audible.

“I can't keep fighting for a team where I’m not respected or trusted. Where you treat me constantly like a liability, like I am worth nothing to you,” you say, your voice steadier now.

“You don’t know what you are saying,” Miguel says, his tone slightly softening.

You turn around, your eyes welling up once again and open a portal to your universe. “I do, I quit” you say, your voice breaking.

You reach into your pocket and pull out your transdimensional gizmo, the small device that every Spider-person uses to travel across the multiverse. It's an intricate piece of technology, a blend of science and magic that fits in the palm of your hand.

You toss the device on the table in front of Miguel. It skids across the surface before coming to a stop right in front of him. He looks from the gizmo to you, his expression unreadable.

"Take it. We don’t need it anymore." You say defiantly, meeting his gaze.

Everyone knows the implication of you returning the gizmo. Without it, you're effectively stranded in your universe, unable to return to the society. This isn't a decision made lightly, it's a point of no return.

As you step through the portal, you glance back one last time. You see Miguel’s face, contorted in pain, but he doesn’t move, he doesn’t speak and he doesn't stop you.

Your heart is breaking, but you can’t stay here. Not when it’s this painful.

You turn away and head toward the portal room, with one hand lightly grazing your tummy. Gwen calls your name, but you don’t stop.

In the dim light of the room, the world seems to fade away as you lie there with Miguel on top of you. You are under him, breathless, your fingers running through his hair. His body pins you down in a tender, electrifying way, and you can feel the rhythm of his heart beating against yours.

His fangs graze the curve of your neck lightly, eliciting a shiver that runs through you. In response, he nuzzles into you, his breath warm against your skin.

"Ever think about what we're doing?" he asks in a whisper that vibrates against your neck.

"Constantly," you respond, your fingers tracing the curve of his broad shoulders, "but I don’t regret it, not a moment.”

He lifts his head, his red orbs searching yours. “Neither do I,” he says, his voice barely more than a whisper. His hand reaches up to trace the contour of your face.

"You know," you whisper, your hands continuing caressing his back, "I always wondered what it was like in your universe, in your time."

He shifts a little, propping himself up on one elbow as he looks down at you. His eyes, usually as unreadable, now seem to crack open; emotions swirl within them like stars.

"It was great, you know," his voice is gentle, each word enveloping you. "No, more than that – it was perfect," he corrects himself. His eyes never leave yours as he continues, "I had my Gabriella. Ah, you would have adored her." His voice softens to a mere whisper as if speaking her name too loudly might shatter the memory. "She was this incredible burst of life just like you. My own little sunshine. I didn’t know my heart could hold so much until she came into my life."

"The way she would throw her head back and laugh, it was like music. Her tiny hands – so soft and gentle. I remember how one of them always found mine, and the world felt... right." He continued, "I was never alone, never empty." He swallows hard, as if trying to keep the flood of emotions from washing over him.

You cup his cheek gently, smiling up at him. "You don't have to be alone, you know?"

He lets out a dry chuckle. “Sometimes it feels like there's no other option. It’s my fate."

“What scares you the most, Miguel?” you suddenly ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He hesitates. “To lose myself… to forget what it means to care for someone,” he finally confesses.

“You won’t,” you assure him, your thumb stroking his cheek. “Not if you don’t let yourself.”

“¿y tú?” His voice is husky. “What’s your biggest fear?”

“To be forgotten,” you whisper.

He lowers himself and presses his forehead against yours. “Imposible,” he breathes. “You’re the sun. No one forgets the sun.”  He pulls you closer, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, his arms tighten around you, pulling you closer until the world outside disappears.

Suddenly, his wrist console beeps, yanking him back to the present. "O’Hara, are you okay?" Lyla's voice echoes in the room, breaking the silence. He blinks, his gaze focusing on the holographic screen displaying the mission details in front of him. "Yeah, Lyla," he responds, his voice a bit hoarse. "Just remembered something," he murmurs, and refocuses on the screen before him.

Amidst the sea of codes and numbers, Miguel finds himself struggling to focus. His thoughts still are consumed by you, and a heavy realization crashes down upon him like a tidal wave - he’s lost you forever.

He always knew that this was how it was meant to be. This was the only logical conclusion, the inevitable outcome that he had tried so hard to deny. He was aware of the potential repercussions, the cosmic imbalance that could be brought about by your intertwining fates. 

Lyla had warned him multiple times, cautioned him against letting you close. But how could he have possibly resisted you? You, who shone brighter than the sun, who captured the hearts of everyone around with your aura and your kind soul. Your beauty was unparalleled, and your laughter had the power to fill a room, casting away shadows. He was a moth drawn to your flame, hopelessly captivated from the very first day he met you.

 But you were never meant to be his story, not the path his life was meant to tread. You belonged to another world, another universe.

"You're thinking about her, aren't you?" Lyla breaks the silence with her smooth, computerized voice. “No,” he interrupts her sharply, his voice a little too forceful.

But Lyla isn't easily deterred. "You know it was dangerous from the beginning, Miguel," Lyla continues. "Engaging with her like that...it could have caused irreparable damage to the multiverse."

"I know," he replies curtly.

Unyielding, Lyla continues, "This was never supposed to be a canon event. Her universe is not meant to mix with yours. It's fortunate that she left when she did. The damage could've been—"

“I KNOW!” Miguel suddenly erupts, his voice thundering through the room. He screams, his frustration boiling over, "¡Ya lo sé, Lyla! ¡Basta ya!" ("I already know, Lyla! Enough already!") With a loud grunt, he sweeps his arm across his desk, sending his keyboard, mug, and various other items crashing to the ground.

There is a deafening silence as Miguel breathes heavily, his chest heaving. His eyes are wide, his face is flushed and his fangs are bared. He never loses control, not like this.

Lyla, for once, remains silent.

3 months later…

Back in Nea Yorkey, Earth 586 , you are perched on the rooftop, absentmindedly rubbing your stomach. Time has passed since you left Nueva York and Miguel, but your feelings for him are still a tangled mess. Damn these pesky pregnancy hormones.

 For once, it’s pretty calm out there. No honking horns in traffic jams or the usual buzz of people everywhere. It’s like the city hit the pause button and honestly, it’s kind of nice. The streetlights are like tiny fairy lights all over, and the tall buildings around you feel like they’re keeping you company.

The cool breeze brushes against your face, and you can't help but be lost in your thoughts. Thoughts of him. The relentless flood of emotions is almost too much to handle.

The flashback hits you hard, placing you right back in Miguel's office late one evening. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, your backside planted firmly on his desk amidst strewn cables and metallic pieces and half-empty coffee mugs.

"Miguel, someone will catch us," you had warned, your breath hitching as he nipped at your skin, his hands deftly moving to undo your skintight suit. His hair was a little longer then, the ends tickling your forehead as he kissed you.

He had just chuckled, the sound deep and throaty, making your heart flutter. "They know better than to disturb me," he'd responded confidently, his lips trailing fiery kisses along your jawline.

Usually, Miguel was cautious about showing any sign of affection when others might be around, even if 'around' meant anywhere in the sprawling headquarters of the Spider Society. Yet, that night, he seemed to throw caution to the wind.

In his enclosed office, late into the evening, he let his guard down - a rarity. His lips were insistent against your skin, his touch setting you alight. You remember how the soft glow of the desk lamp had caught in his eyes, making them appear even more mesmerizing.

As he was holding your ass up steady and pounding into you, in a pace and fervor you never experienced before, you hear his communicator ring vibrating. You instinctively attempt to pull away, assuming he would answer the call, but he holds you tighter, his lips never leaving your skin.

His free hand pulls up a holographic screen,which flickered to life above the desk, revealing a slightly pixelated image of Jess. You panic for a moment, worried that she might see you in this intimate moment with Miguel, but he just shook his head slightly, reassuring you that she can't. He must have filtered the video feed on his end.

“Yes, Jess?” Miguel’s voice was steady, but his breath ghosted your neck in short spurts. He continued with his action, his thrusts a little slower but deep, nevertheless. You clamp your teeth down onto Miguel's shoulder in a desperate attempt to stifle the moans escaping your throat, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. You can barely contain yourself. Miguel's soft, amused chuckle vibrate through you as he wraps his arms around you protectively. Asshole.

“We’ve got an anomaly on Earth-4067, seems like a temporal rift,” Jess's voice came through the hologram.

“Have you tried the Q-particle stabilizer?” Miguel asks, his voice so casual it's almost disarming. His eyes meet yours, a playful glint in them.

“Yeah, but it didn’t work. The rift is actually growing,” Jess responds, the worry in her voice increasing. “What do you think we should do?”

“Alright, I want you to reconfigure the dimensional frequency to match the rift. Then patch the satellite feed through the Alchemax algorithm, reverse the temporal frequency by 4.7 hertz and use the resonance pulse to stabilize the rift,” Miguel articulates with authority as he continues to pick up his pace. You’re close to the edge, with the euphoria threatening to make you cry out. The sheer pleasure is now tinged with a faint edge of pain, and a wave of panic crashes over you. The thought of Jess possibly hearing you is nerve-wracking, and you’re now fighting to suppress your screams.

Your breathing becomes erratic as you whisper in a hoarse, needy voice, “Miguel, ‘m close."

"I know, mami. Come for me," he whispers back, his voice filled with a playful mischief that seems to defy the gravity of the situation. His hot breath against your ear sends shivers down your spine and the wave of pleasure crushes down on you.

“Miguel, are you sure about this? I mean, if something goes wrong…” Jess hesitates.

“I’m sure, Jess.” Thrust. “Do.” Another hard thrust. “it.” Miguel’s voice turns forceful.

“Okay, I trust you. But... are you alright? You sound kinda breathless,” Jess's suspicion returns.

“Oh, just...uh...running some diagnostics. It’s a bit stuffy in here,” Miguel replies with a smirk on his face, his fingers now gently brushing against your bare heated skin.

The rooftop is silent again, and you're still rubbing your belly, where the life you and Miguel created is growing. A bittersweet tear rolls down your cheek as you wish, not for the first time, that things could have been different.

You don’t know how long you are sitting there, taking in the city scene. But it was getting dark, when a familiar figure swings onto the rooftop. It's Gwen, carrying a small package in her hand. “Gwen? What brings you to Nea Yorkey?”

She walks up to you with a soft smile, "Do I need a reason to visit my favourite Spider-Ma? I've got something for you."

You raise an eyebrow as she hands you the package. As you unwrap it, you find a tiny Spider-Man hat, similar to the one Mayday usually wears. And to your surprise, there’s a tiny anarchy pin, attached to it.

"From the group," she says softly. She adds, pointing at the pin, "This bit here, that’s from Hobie." Of course it is.

You’re moved to tears as you hug the hat close. It's a simple gift, yet it means so much. You feel a lump in your throat, and Gwen steps forward, wrapping you in a warm, comforting hug.

"I...I miss all of you so much," you manage to whisper, your voice choked with emotion.

"We miss you too," Gwen replies, her voice equally soft.

You pull back, wiping your eyes. Gwen tries to lighten the mood, "So, any guesses on the gender? I bet it’s a boy."

You shrug, a small smile tugging at your lips, "I don't care what it's going to be. I just want them to be healthy."

Gwen grins, "Just remember, if it is a boy and he turns out to be a handful, you owe me a soda."

You both sit on the edge of the rooftop in a comfortable silence, legs swinging over the city, the conversation turns more serious.

"So," you venture, "how are things back at the Spider Society?"

Gwen’s expression turns contemplative. "It's been... strange since you left," she admits.

"Strange how?" you prod.

"Well, you know how Miguel was always a little on the, uh, grumpy side?" she says, making a grimace.

"You mean being a brooding fortress of doom and gloom?" you quip, and Gwen chuckles.

"Yeah, that. Well, he's gotten worse since you left. Like, way worse," Gwen's face turns somber as she continues. "He’s even more closed off than before. His temper’s shorter, he barely communicates, and he's been pushing everyone away. Miguel’s basically got everyone on lockdown. No unauthorized visits between universes. There’s this... I don’t know... this cloud hanging over him, you know?”

Your heart tightens as you take in her words. You had no idea that your departure had such an impact on him, or anyone for that matter.

“He doesn’t talk about it, but I think he misses you,” Gwen adds, looking directly into your eyes.

You are torn. Part of you wants to be angry at Miguel for how things went down, but another part aches for him.

Gwen nudges you. "Maybe he needs his sunshine back," she says with a gentle smile.

You sit in silence for a moment, the weight of Gwen’s words sinking in. “Don’t be silly. I was never his sunshine.”

4 months later…

Beneath the pale glow of hospital lights, pain and joy mingle in the delivery room. The grip you have on the sheets gets tighter as you push to usher your baby into the world. Your hair is sticking to your forehead, your breath comes in heaving gasps, exhaustion painting dark circles under your eyes.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to you, a portal flickers to life outside your window, and Gwen, Peter B., and Hobie emerge.

“Make way! The party has arrived!” Peter B. exclaims loudly.

“I don’t believe in parties.” Hobie says as he struts in, clad in his Spider suit with a leather jacket over it, pins and patches proudly displayed.

Gwen knocks at your door. The midwife, busy with you in the labor, answers.

“Uh, who are you?” the midwife asks, slightly agitated.

“We’re friends of hers,” Peter gestures towards you, “is it a good time?”

You hear their voices, but you cant muster up a response all you can do is scream and push.

“Blimey, I didn’t think it’d be like somethin’ outta Alien! You alright there, love?” Hobie’s eyes go wide, as he enters the room.

You can't help but laugh through the pain, "Oh, just peachy, thanks for asking."

Gwen steps forward, immediately grabbing your hand, her voice soothing, “Hey, you’re doing great. Is there anything we can do?”

“You could get Hobie out of here,” you jest, rolling your eyes, but your smile betrays your appreciation. Another loud scream follows.

“You got this, luv!” Hobie shouts. “Just imagine the bloody contractions as guitar riffs! You’re about to release the raddest album in history!”

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you hear the cries of your newborn baby.

“Congratulations, it's a boy!” the nurse announces, handing the baby to to you.

You can’t help but laugh. Gwen steps closer to the bed and takes a peek at the baby. Her eyes light up. “Told you, it’s a boy. He’s absolutely beautiful,” she whispers.

Hobie chimes in. “Alright, let’s get a proper look at the little bloke!” He leans in, and his face softens. "Oh, look at 'im!" Hobie exclaims in his thick British accent, peering at him. "Little blighter's a spitting image of 'is mum, ain't he?” No. You see it then, the dark eyes with a hint of red glow echo the intensity of his father's gaze, the dark chocolate hair and the sun kissed complexion. He looked undeniably just like Miguel. You cant help yourself but fall immediately in love with your and Miguel’s little boy.

As they prepare to leave, Gwen, Peter B., and Hobie each take turns holding Gabriel and whispering well-wishes to him. 

“I can’t thank you guys enough for being here,” you say, wiping away a tear.

Peter’s mask is off and he’s beaming. "We couldn't miss this for the multiverse!"

Gwen follows suit, "Yeah! Plus, Hobie wouldn't let us hear the end of it if we didn’t."

“We’re family,” Peter says firmly. “Across universes and timelines. We’re always here for each other.”

With that, the trio put on their masks and with another whoosh, they're gone.

1 year later...

One year has passed like a whirlwind. You've established a balance in your life. By day, you are a doting mother, and your world revolves around a little ball of energy named Gabriel. His laugh is the music that fuels your day, and his tiny hands holding yours make everything seem alright.

At night, though, you become someone else. Clad in a white suit adorned with golden sun patterns, you swing through the skyscrapers of Nea Yorkey as the Sun Spider. Your heart swells with pride, knowing that you’re keeping the streets and your little boy safe.

Your neighbor, Melissa, sometimes babysits Gabriel. She is a cheerful, quirky 19-year-old neighbor who dreams of becoming an Instagram influencer. You trust her (her career choice not so much) and, most importantly, Gabriel adores her.

Up until today, you believed that he hadn't inherited any powers. However, today was the first time he climbed up a wall and spun a web, without the aid of a web-slinger. It was the first time you witnessed him display such powers, and naturally, you were impressed. However, you also realized that being a mom would now involve dealing with a whole new set of challenges and responsibilities, making everyday life more exhausting than before. But you are up for the challenge;

Meanwhile, in the Spider Society’s HQ in Nueva York, Lyla’s holographic screen blinks red as she detects an anomaly in Earth 586 - your universe. She reports it to Miguel, who is still his grumpy self, seemingly even more irritable with each day passing.

“There’s a presence in Earth 586 that does not belong,” Lyla reports in her emotionless tone.

Miguel, sitting at his desk, sighs deeply. “Assemble the team. Pavitr, Lego Spider-Man, and... let’s bring in the newbie, Miles.”

Minutes later, the trio is briefed about the anomaly – a two-year-old child. They are to extract the child and bring it back.

Back in your universe, you're facing off against a notorious villain – The Shocker, who is on a rampage downtown. His high-frequency shock waves shake the very foundations of the buildings around you.

“Not tonight, Shocker,” you quip as you dodge a blast. “I’ve got a bedtime story to read!”

You're agile and sharp, but you can’t wait to get back home to Gabriel.

In your apartment, Melissa is on the couch, engrossed in her phone. She doesn't notice Pavitr slyly slipping into Gabriel's room. He can’t help but feel conflicted, seeing the innocent child asleep.

“This is the target?” Pavitr speaks in a hushed tone into his communicator. His voice is laced with doubt.

“Yes, proceed,” responds Miguel firmly.

Pavitr gently picks up Gabriel, cradling him in his arms. “Sorry, little guy,” he whispers and slips out.

Outside, they gather near the portal. Miles, who is visibly excited to be on his first mission, can sense the tension among the group.

“That was… too easy,” Pavitr murmurs, still holding the sleeping child.

Through the swirling portal, they make their way back to Nueva York.

Meanwhile, you web up The Shocker and leave him hanging for the police.

Back in the Spider Society's HQ in Nueva York, the team stands in a specialized containment room with the toddler still peacefully sleeping nestled in a makeshift bed of spider-web, completely oblivious to the attention he's attracting. One by one, members of the Spider Society trickle into the room, drawn by curiosity and concern.

Miles, who is new to the Spider Society, looks at the child with confusion. "I don't get it, what's so dangerous about a kid?" he asks.

Pavitr looks conflicted, “We have to determine where he came from and why he is considered an anomaly.”

Lego Spider-Man remains silent, trying to analyze the situation. He finally speaks up. "We should be cautious. Just because it's a child doesn't mean it's not potentially hazardous to the multiverse."

Miguel enters the room, his face cold and emotionless. He glances at the sleeping child, then at his team. “It doesn’t matter what it is. Anomalies threaten the balance of the multiverse. Every anomaly has to be returned to its home universe. That’s the rule.” he says sternly.

"But he's not an anomaly, boss," Jess adds, gazing fondly at the child. "He's a little boy."

Miguel’s gaze is unwavering, ignoring Jess. “Lyla? Whats the status?” 

Lyla's holographic form flickers into the room. "This entity possesses unknown powers," she declares, her voice ringing out with clinical detachment. "And according to my scans, it doesn't belong to any known universe. Therefore, it cannot be returned. It must be... eliminated."

Miles' eyes widen. “Wait, you mean…?” he can’t bring himself to finish the sentence.

Pavitr steps forward, his fists clenched. “We can’t just... There must be another way.”

Back in your universe, you swing closer to your apartment, but your spider-sense starts are tingling with a ferocity you’ve never experienced before. Your heart races, and you quicken your pace. Bursting through the window, you find Melissa still sitting on the couch, scrolling through her phone.

"Where is he? Where’s Gabriel?!" you shout, panic straining your voice.

Melissa's eyes go wide as she looks up from her phone. "What? He's in his room, sleeping," she says, but her voice falters when she sees the terror on your face.

You rush into Gabriel's room and find the crib empty. Your knees buckle, and a guttural scream escapes your lips. The room spins as you run back to the living room, grabbing Melissa by the shoulders.

"Did anyone come in? Did you see anything?!" you practically scream at her.

“I... I didn’t see anyone. I swear!” Melissa's voice shakes.

Your heart feels like it's tearing apart. You look around the room, desperate for any clue. You need to find your son, and something deep within you tells you that the Spider Society is where you need to go. You have to find a way to travel through the multiverse without a gizmo and the time is ticking. You have to find your son.

Back in the HQ in the midst of the tension-filled room, Gwen stands up, "Miguel, you can't be serious," she pleads, disbelief resonating in her voice. "We can't just... kill a baby.”

Miguel's eyes narrow. "Sometimes tough decisions have to be made for the greater good.”

Just then, little Gabriel wakes up. His big eyes wander curiously around the room, and he starts to make happy babbling sounds. Unfazed by his surroundings, he looks at each of the Spider-People with fascination.

As Peter B. is about to reach down to pick Gabriel up, the toddler crawls quickly over to Miguel. His little face lights up with the purest of smiles and he reaches his tiny arms towards Miguel as if trying to give him a hug.

The room seems to collectively hold its breath. Even Miguel seems taken aback.

Pavitr can't help it, “He seems to have taken a liking to you, boss.”

Gwen smiles, her eyes watering up. “See? Even this innocent soul can sense there’s still good in you.”

Tiny fingers grip at the fabric of Miguel's suit, baby Gabriel coos and giggles as he clambers up the towering figure. Planting tiny baby kisses on any part of Miguel he can reach, the toddler's joyous laughter rings in the silent room. "Vete, Vete." Miguel mutters. And despite Miguel's cold exterior, Gabriel is unphased, drawn to him as though an invisible bond exists between them.

Miguel looks frustrated and uncomfortable with the baby's affection. He awkwardly picks Gabriel up at arm’s length. But the little one is relentless, trying to cuddle into Miguel’s chest.

Annoyed, Miguel places Gabriel into a containment field made of energy beams, to keep him in place. The baby, though restrained, is still reaching out to Miguel with his tiny hands, cooing.

The room goes quiet again, and Gwen speaks, her voice soft.

“Look at him, Miguel. Please. You can’t tell me that this doesn’t affect you in any way.”

Miguel's face is tense, his jaw clenched. His eyes dart between Gwen and Gabriel. All eyes are directed towards Miguel. The room feels like it’s waiting for something to shatter.

“We do what needs to be done, no exceptions.”

Part III "Web of Shadow and Light"

a/n: Honestly, I can't begin to express how much your support and kind messages mean to me. I literally started crying when I saw how much love this story received. It means the world to me. Truly, thank you. I'd love to hear your thoughts, and if someone could give me a heads-up on whether the tag list functioned properly, that would be great. Also, apologies for any inconsistencies or logical errors regarding the multiverse or canon theory. I watched the movie but I'm not 100% sure of that's how it works.

Once again, I really do appreciate each and everyone of you. Please, don’t forget to take good care of yourselves and stay hydrated! ILYSM

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[prael]

Head-To-Head

Itzy Yuna & Artms/Loona Heejin x male reader smut [Commissioned fic]

Masterlist word count: 13,663 Kofi(donations/commissions)

There must be a reason. There's always a reason.

Yuna has this look in her eye when she's up to something, and she's always up to something.

She's the one who always has a plan to execute, a scheme to concoct, an idea to hatch. Everything usually aligns with a single, specific purpose: to be the best. To beat everyone at everything. It's why she's captain of the debate team and the track team. It's why she's the president of the student council. She's the type of person to do every possible extracurricular there is, and to dominate them all, no matter how small, no matter how seemingly irrelevant.

Though her every achievement is matched by another, and it eats at her like nothing else.

She's got this sweet smile, a gentle lilt to her voice, and the most charming laugh, but you've known her long enough to understand that none of it means she's on your side. Not always, anyway. Not until she's figured out what she wants. (You're not saying it's all fake. She is a sweet person, really. But there's something else behind her eyes that never disappears completely, no matter how hard she tries to cover it up.)

"Have you eaten today? You look a little pale," Yuna says, her brow furrowing with worry.

"I'm fine," you reply. "I had lunch. Just... a little tired."

"Are you sure? I don't want you to go hungry or overwork yourself. I'm sure it's tough being the principal's son. Are you eating your meals on time?"

Even for Yuna, this is a bit too much. A full-court press of concern, all focused on you. It feels like a trap. "Seriously, I'm okay. I'm just trying to work on a little project."

"Can I help?" She asks as she's already pulling her chair closer to you, so she's practically peering over your shoulder. "What are you working on?"

"It's not difficult. I'm fine. Thank you."

"Two minds are better than one," she playfully says as she leans in a little closer, her hair falling on your shoulder and touching your cheek. Then there's the smell, an expensive, intoxicating fragrance that sends a shiver down your spine and a warmth deep inside your gut.

"Yuna," you say, and even you're not quite sure if you're protesting or pleading. "I'm fine. You don't need to."

You feel her hand on your back. It's warm. Her thumb strokes back and forth. The pressure is gentle but persistent. "It's what friends are for, they help each other out," she says softly.

The touch is comforting, almost enough to make you melt right there on the spot. "I have to be able to do this alone. Thank you, really, thank you, but I'll be okay."

Her hand moves up, and now it's resting on the back of your neck. You can't help but tense up a little bit, and she must notice because her hand goes away.

"If you say so," Yuna says. "Then how about you let me buy you dinner later? It'll be my treat."

"No, no," you quickly reply. "You don't have to."

"Please, I insist. It'll make me feel better."

She's so convincing. That's the thing about Yuna. She has the kind of voice and manner that makes you believe whatever it is she's saying. You feel a strange sense of urgency, the way she says this, the way she's looking at you. You can't say no. "Okay. Thank you."

"See you after school." She stands up and walks out of the classroom.

That was weird. There's an explanation for it, but there's no way she could know, is there? She's always two steps ahead of everyone. How could she have found out about it when your father only told you the day before?

Your stomach growls.

Maybe you should have actually eaten lunch.

-

There are no classes at the moment, not with graduation right around the corner and the last of the finals coming to an end. You're sitting in the afternoon sun, enjoying the quiet before the evening rush. The breeze is cool and pleasant, and the grass is soft and plush. It's a good day to sit and relax.

There are not many people out in the courtyard, but you recognise the one that's been sitting out here almost as long as you have.

Heejin's sitting against a tree. Her hair is a little messy, as usual, but the soft breeze keeps it from being too unruly. Her clothes are a little loose as if she doesn't care about how she looks. She looks so peaceful, so tranquil, as she reads the book in her lap. She has her headphones on, listening to music and blocking out the rest of the world.

She's cute, you think.

You should probably stop staring.

(You're trying not to, you swear, but there's just something so... easy on the eyes, about Heejin.)

There's a sudden swirl of wind, a little stronger than before, that blows the trees. Leaves are swirling and fluttering, and the swaying of the branches breaks the shade that Heejin's tree provides. A ray of sunlight shines down on her, bright and beautiful. The glow makes her seem to shine, but she doesn't appreciate it, it blinds her for a moment, and you see the way her eyes narrow, and the annoyed look on her face.

It's enough to pull her out of her trance. Her gaze moves, and her eyes lock with yours. Her expression is flat and unamused. You can almost feel her judgement from here.

Oh. Yeah. Right. That's what you get for staring. You look away.

"Hey."

Oh no.

"Can we talk?"

You look up, and Heejin's standing over you. She's not smiling, but she's not frowning, either. Her face is neutral and expressionless, but you know it's because she doesn't have anything nice to say.

"Hi, uh," you nervously stammer. "What's up?"

She gestures at the space on the bench next to you. "Can I sit?"

"Go ahead." You slide a little bit to the side.

Heejin takes a seat. "I heard something from a friend, and I was wondering if it was true," she says. "I wanted to hear it from you directly, so I'm going to ask you."

"Yeah?"

Heejin looks at you straight on. She's not one to hold back. "Is your dad asking you to decide between me and Yuna for valedictorian?"

There it is. Confirmation of your suspicions. It makes little to no sense how it got out so quickly, or how it got out at all. The whole thing was meant to be a secret, after all. You hesitate to say anything.

She doesn't seem offended that you haven't answered. Instead, she says, "You don't have to tell me. I already know it's true."

You don't have an answer to that. Heejin is like this; one-sided conversations, like she has her own way of thinking about things. She's a bit blunt and brusque, and it's a bit jarring. It's the kind of honesty and openness that's a bit too raw to be considered polite.

"You don't seem very surprised," you finally reply.

Heejin gives you a shrug. "It's not surprising. The school's a bit of a mess. I'm not sure the principal has his shit together." She looks at you with a slight smirk. "No offence."

You let out a little chuckle. "Yeah. It's okay."

"Your dad's a little..." Heejin makes a vague gesture with her hand. "He's trying. He's trying to be a good principal, I can tell, but he's just a little, y'know, not great."

"I get it."

She lets out a soft laugh and shakes her head. "Well, he's your dad, I shouldn't shit talk him too much. But I mean, it's a pretty big deal that he's making his son pick between the top students. I think that's messed up, honestly."

"To be fair, there's no way to split the two of you," you try to explain. "You're putting up the exact same scores, all across the board. You're tied."

"Yeah. I know. I know." She leans back a bit on the bench and lets out a long sigh. "Yuna's tough to compete against. She always has her head in the game. She's got that look in her eye when she's on to you." Heejin looks at you. "You know what I mean, right?"

You nod your head in agreement. "I know."

"I've come to a conclusion: there's only one way to beat her. You know what I have to do, right?"

"...What?"

Heejin gives you a smirk and leans in. She rests her hand on your thigh. Your eyes go wide in shock, and she lets out a little giggle. "I have to convince you to let me be valedictorian." Her fingers squeeze the inside of your leg. "I can persuade you, right?"

Your hand snaps down to her wrist and holds her. "Heejin," you say, and your voice is a little shaky. "What are you—"

"Don't play dumb, I've seen the way you look at me," Heejin interrupts. "I see it, the way you're checking me out. I'm hot, right? You can say it, I don't mind."

She's such a straight shooter, there's no other way to describe her. There's no double entendre or sneaky little insinuation or subtle implication. It's just plain and simple. Heejin says exactly what she wants, no more, no less. There's something attractive about that. Something... exciting.

But this is a lot to process, especially when her hand's on your leg.

"I... um, I," you stutter. "I..."

"What the hell is this!?"

Oh no.

The voice makes the two of you jump a little. Yuna's marching up to the both of you, and she doesn't look happy. You let go of Heejin's hand, but it doesn't make much difference. Her hand's still on you, after all.

"Are you really stooping so low?" Yuna demands, pointing at Heejin.

"Talking to my friend? That's stooping low, now?" Heejin asks, raising an eyebrow. Her voice is casual and indifferent, almost as if she's goading her. "I can't talk to my friend anymore?"

"Get your hands off him, Heejin. It's not a good look." Yuna crosses her arms. "Don't you have any self-respect?"

Heejin lets go of your leg, but she's as unflustered as ever. "I was just talking to my friend. I can talk to him, can't I?"

"He has a lot on his mind. He doesn't need you distracting him."

Heejin rolls her eyes and starts on the defensive. "I wasn't doing anything like that." She stands up. "He has enough brains to think for himself." She looks at you, and there's a little smirk on her lips. "Right?"

You're about to reply, but Yuna steps between you and Heejin, the skirt resting on her wide hips in front of your face and blocking your view of Heejin. She's staring at Heejin. Her eyes are narrowed. "I don't know what you were doing, Heejin. But it wasn't just talking."

"I was giving him my suggestion," Heejin answers.

Yuna shakes her head. "He doesn't want your 'suggestions', whatever that is."

"He can speak for himself, y'know? He's a smart kid," Heejin says, a little more sharply. "If I wanted his attention, he'd give it to me. He knows what he wants. Don't you?" She asks, looking over at you with a little twinkle in her eye.

"I..." You swallow. It's a bit difficult to think when there's so much going on. "I..."

Heejin laughs a little at how you're a little lost for words. Yuna, though, is not nearly as amused. She steps closer to Heejin and leans in to say something. You don't hear what she's saying. It's too quiet for you to make it out. Heejin listens, and her smirk fades.

"Fine. Whatever," Heejin says. She walks away without a single glance at you.

"Wait," you say to her, standing up. You're about to follow her, but Yuna steps in the way again, and her expression makes you stop.

"What's wrong?" Yuna asks, blinking her wide, innocent eyes. "Is something the matter?"

"I was just gonna say goodbye," you reply. It seems silly to try to explain this, and Yuna is looking a bit impatient. You decide not to say more. "Never mind."

She smiles and links arms with you. She's a lot more close than she's usually been. She's pressed up to your side, her arm entwined with yours, her chest pressed up against your shoulder, soft and warm. You try to ignore it. You're trying not to read too much into things. But it's a little tough when Yuna's the one being affectionate like that. "I was thinking," she says, "we can grab some pizza for dinner if you don't mind."

You take a final glance at Heejin as she walks away. Her backpack is slung over one shoulder. Her headphones are back on. Her head is held high as she walks with a strut. Those long bare legs protrude from under her skirt.

Yuna pulls at you. "Come on."

-

Dinner is, well, dinner. You and Yuna talk, about the usual things. You both chat about what's next after graduation and then she tells you about her family and how her sister has been annoying her lately. You listen. You nod. You talk. You eat. You talk again. It's a little weird, but it's nice, and the pizza's great. You're grateful.

But you know it's all a game.

If Heejin knows the power you've been handed, then Yuna does, too. And if both of them know, then the only way to get ahead of each other is by being more persuasive. Heejin had a... direct method. Yuna, though, she's more subtle, but you're sure her intentions aren't any less self-centred.

She turns the conversation to questions, focusing on you, rather than her. She's batting her eyelashes as she asks you questions about the school, about your family, about your friends. It's all innocent enough, but you're not stupid. You've known Yuna long enough to understand how she's playing you. And she's good at it. It's almost too easy to fall under her spell, to fall for her charms. The way she leans closer to you. How her fingers run across your palm, tracing little circles. The way she laughs at all your jokes, even the ones you know are dumb. How her smile is always on her lips. How her eyes sparkle whenever she's listening. The way she tilts her head and pouts when she doesn't quite get something.

"You're so lucky to be the principal's son," she says as if it isn't an excuse to bring up the whole reason she's even sitting with you. "Must be fun having all the connections."

"It's not a big deal." You shrug. "He just treats me like a normal student." Mostly. "I don't get anything out of it. He's a little strict on me, honestly."

"I don't know, there must be some perks to it," Yuna insists. "I'd kill to be able to have that kind of privilege."

"Yeah? Like what?" you ask. You take another sip of your drink.

"I don't know." She runs a hand through her hair, brushing the strands out of her face, and lets out a little laugh. "You get to be first for everything, don't you?"

You shrug. "Not really."

"And you can probably flunk a class and just make your dad pass you anyway." She winks. "No?"

"Not how that works," you reply. You're getting the sense she's trying to work up to a point.

"Okay, maybe not, but there's got to be something good." She smiles. "You've got any secrets?"

You raise an eyebrow. "What kind of secrets?"

"Oh, come on," she playfully insists. "I bet your dad's told you all the juicy gossip about the teachers and staff, right? Or maybe even about students?"

You don't answer. She takes that as an affirmative.

"Oooh, you're holding out on me. I wanna know!" Yuna grabs your hands and leans closer to you. Her shirt hangs low on her neck, exposing a little more cleavage than you're comfortable seeing. "Tell me a secret. Something interesting."

"Like what?" you ask. You know you probably should lean away, but it feels a bit too rude to do that.

"Anything. Something fun." She squeezes your hand. "I promise I won't tell. Come on. Just between the two of us."

You feel like she's closing in on you. You can smell the faint scent of her perfume, just like earlier in the afternoon, and her eyes are twinkling, her lips pouting ever so slightly. The warmth of her skin against yours, the way her thumb is rubbing your palm. "Okay, fine." You look around, making sure no one else can hear. "The art teachers, she, uh..."

"Yeah?"

"She's getting a divorce, turns out she's into women."

"Oh my god." She blinks and covers her mouth in surprise. "No way."

"It's true," you say. "There's been a whole thing, her husband found out about an affair, it's all messy. Don't tell anyone, okay? I wasn't meant to tell."

"I won't," she says, a coy smile on her face. "Don't worry. I can keep secrets. Your secret's safe with me." She leans back, but her hand doesn't let go of yours. "But it's not just gossip, right? Does your dad ever, you know..." Her other hand joins her first, her palms rubbing your knuckles, her skin warm and soft against yours, her fingers stroking and massaging you. "Ask you for advice? Maybe you have some sway on how things get run at school, huh? I'm just curious, I swear."

It's an obvious question, and it's the kind that you expected she might try to ask, eventually. "Sometimes, yeah."

She nods. Her hands don't stop. They continue to caress and stroke, her touch gentle and comforting, but also firm, persistent, almost suggestive. The sensation makes you tingle a little, a little buzz running through your body. "That must be fun," she murmurs. "So has he asked for any advice lately?"

You know exactly what she wants, but she hasn't quite asked for it directly. You decide to tease her. "Yeah. I guess he's asked a bit recently."

"Oh, really?" She leans forward again, her lips just inches away from yours. "Like what?"

"About, uh, some stuff," you answer vaguely. You can't tell her exactly, you want to hear her ask it.

"Maybe I could help. Maybe we can talk about it and figure it out together." Her hand's moving up from yours and now she's stroking up your forearm, slowly rubbing it. Her touch feels so good, and her eyes are locked on yours, unblinking, her gaze focused solely on you. She bites her lip a little. "If he asked about something like... I don't know..."

You smile. She knows. And she's playing coy, pretending that she doesn't know what she wants. You can't let that stand. You can't let her get away with it. "Spit it out."

"Maybe..." Her eyes glance to the side. "...who to choose for valedictorian?"

It's about time she asks. "And what do you think?" you ask, a sly grin creeping up on you. "You got a suggestion?"

Yuna blushes a little and lets out a giggle. "Me."

"You?"

"Yeah. I think I'd be the best fit. Don't you?" She bats her eyelashes. "My scores are the best—

"—Joint best."

"And my extra-curricular; I have the most—"

"—Joint most."

"And I'm the president, captain, leader of—"

"—Joint leader, captain and president."

"Are you just gonna keep doing that?" Yuna pouts.

"Doing what?"

"Joint," she says, imitating you, her voice lowering. "Joint. Joint. Joint. I mean, yeah, I get it. But you can't say that Heejin is really better than me, is she?"

You shrug.

"Is she? I don't think she is. I know her grades are as good as mine, but she doesn't put in as much work as me. I've been putting my blood, sweat and tears into all these clubs, all the things I'm in. She's just... doing things because she has nothing better to do. I'm actually trying, I'm working so hard, and I know that's worth something." She gives you a look that's somehow innocent and imploring, while simultaneously persuasive. "I deserve to be valedictorian."

You're not going to argue with her, she does deserve it. They both do.

Yuna keeps going, "You can help me, you know. We're friends. I've always been nice to you, haven't I? Do this for me and I'll owe you. Big time. I mean it. I will be very, very, grateful."

She trying so desperately to entice you, and she's doing her very best. The way her eyes twinkle and flutter as she speaks to you. The way her voice goes a little high-pitched and squeaky, the way she pouts her lips and widens her eyes. She leans so far over the table that she hits her drink and sends it tumbling. The glass shatters as it hits the floor and the two of you flinch from the sound.

"Oh my god!" Yuna gasps. "I'm so sorry, oh my god!" She jumps off her chair. The staff are quickly making their way over, and Yuna immediately apologises to them, a look of utter embarrassment on her face. "I'm sorry, it was an accident!"

The staff wave it off and start to clean up. You offer to help, but they refuse, so instead, you think it best to pay and call an end to dinner.

"That's so embarrassing, oh my god," Yuna groans. She covers her face with her hands and shakes her head. "I'm such an idiot, I'm so sorry."

"Don't worry about it, it was an accident." You smile. The sun has almost set and the sky has turned a dusky orange and purple. The cool breeze in the evening air is pleasant and relaxing. You let out a sigh. You feel refreshed, and there's something to appreciate about the quiet. But the night's coming in, and you know you have to go back. "I'll walk you home," you offer.

Yuna smiles at you gratefully, and the two of you make the trip together.

-

The lady's dorms aren't far from your own. You're about to leave and head home when Yuna suddenly grabs you by the wrist. "Wait, don't go yet."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I just want to give you something before you go."

"Like what?" you ask. "I already owe you dinner, so..."

"No, no, don't worry about that. This is something different." Yuna steps close to you and wraps her arms around you. You tense up, unsure, but you let her embrace you, her arms around your waist and her hands against your back. "A hug."

"A hug?"

"Yup. A big hug." Yuna rests her chin against your chest, looking up at you. Her eyes are twinkling and her smile is sweet. She squeezes you tighter and leans into you. "For being a good friend. For listening to me talk about all the stupid things in my life. For coming out to dinner with me." Her hand rubs against your back. "And for being so nice."

"Um..." You're a little taken aback by this sudden act of kindness. You wrap your arms around her, too, hugging her back. You're not quite sure if this is a bit much. Yuna can be friendly, but this feels a little excessive, even for her. She's holding onto you, her body pressed up against yours, and it's making you a little uncomfortable. "Thanks. That's, uh, really nice. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Yuna murmurs and her voice is low and soft, her eyes staring right at yours, unblinking. Her body is so soft against yours, her skin feels smooth and warm, and her embrace feels like it's melting into your own. You can't help but notice her body, her curves, the way her hips and chest seem to press into you. It feels like she's trying to make you notice. "So... do you think you'll help me?"

"Help you?" you ask.

"About... y'know..." Yuna tilts her head a little and leans back to look up at you, but her hands stay firmly planted on your back. She smiles playfully. "The valedictorian thing?"

"I, um, I haven't really—"

"—thought about it? Yeah. Okay." She pouts. "Do you need more time?"

"Maybe," you admit. "I haven't really been—"

"—been thinking about it. I know." Yuna steps back and lets you go. She smiles at you again, but this time, it seems a bit more... sultry? Seductive? "Okay, fine. But you'll have my eternal gratitude if you help me, I swear."

She turns and skips into her building, and you stand there for a second, watching as the doors close behind her. Then, you turn and start walking back to your dorm. It's dark out and you have a long walk, so you decide to take the scenic route. You pass by the school fields, past the baseball and soccer grounds, and then you pass the gym and pool buildings. Finally, you cross the courtyard, heading for your dorm.

You're about halfway across when you notice a figure on the benches. The same figure as earlier.

"Aren't you cold?" you call out, walking up to Heejin. She's still in her uniform, but she doesn't seem to be wearing anything to protect her from the night chill. She's still sitting there, legs crossed and head resting on one hand.

She looks up at you as you approach. "A little, yeah."

"Why are you out here?"

"Why not?" She shrugs. "It's nice. Peaceful."

You can't argue with that. You look up at the night sky and take a deep breath, letting the cool air fill your lungs. The silence is nice. It feels like the world has stopped, the universe has paused to give you a moment of quiet. "You can still enjoy it while wearing a jacket, maybe a hoodie. Switch out that skirt for some sweats."

Heejin smiles. "You sound like my dad."

"I didn't know your dad was such a smart guy."

"He isn't," she jokes. She lets out a soft laugh, and then she looks back up at you. "So why are you out here?"

"Walking home. Passing by."

"Did she take you somewhere nice?" Heejin suddenly asks with a knowing smirk. There's no malice in her voice. If anything, she sounds amused.

"Dinner. Pizza."

"Sounds romantic," she remarks, with the tone of someone who means the exact opposite. "Did it work? Are you persuaded?" She leans back on the bench, stretching her arms out and spreading them wide across the back. Her position exposes more of her, the skirt rising higher. You can see the smooth curves of her legs, the muscles that have developed from years of track and dance. They look inviting.

"It was just dinner. We talked. That's all," you explain.

"Just talked," Heejin repeats. She's clearly sceptical. "Just talked," she repeats again, emphasising it.

"Just talked," you reaffirm.

"Sure. Fine," Heejin says with a playful roll of her eyes. She leans forward now, clasping her hands together and settling them between her bare knees. She leering at you, now. Her smirk is suggestive, even seductive. It feels like she's toying with you, almost mocking you. "What did she offer you?"

"Uh, nothing. Just that she would owe me one."

"Yeah, she would owe you one," Heejin drawls, nodding her head patronisingly. "Bet she said it with real suggestive eyes, too, and she touched you, maybe held your arm or something, right? Like, really obviously trying to imply she'll fuck you if you made her valedictorian?"

Your throat runs dry and Heejin just laughs to herself.

"At least I know what I'm up against," Heejin remarks. She stands up, slings her bag over her shoulder, and steps closer to you. She's looking straight at you. Her expression is stern, determined, and serious. Her eyes are narrowed and intense, staring into yours, penetrating through you. "Here's my counter-offer: I'll suck you off, right now. We'll go to your room, you sit down on the bed, take off your pants, I'll drop to my knees and blow you."

Holy shit, Heejin's really serious. She doesn't blink, her gaze remains focused on you.

"Then you pick me. You make me valedictorian."

You're silent. Speechless. There's no subtlety, no suggestion, no implication, no hinting. There's a credit to be given for honesty. You can respect the fact that she's not hiding what she wants, or trying to play games or manipulate you. It's refreshingly direct and simple. And yet, it's Heejin. The girl who quietly sits in class and aces every test. Who beats everyone's times in track. Who performs in competitions as a hobby. Everyone admires her. Everyone wants to be her friend. To have her say that, to offer that...

"You're blushing," Heejin says, smirking. She steps even closer, standing on her tip-toes, bringing her mouth closer to your ear, her hot breath hitting you and making you shiver. "Take me to your dorm," she whispers. "I'll make you cum until you can't even think anymore."

There's not an ounce of shame in her. Not the slightest hint of guilt. She's absolutely certain that she's in control and that you're weak and malleable, willing to succumb to her. She's got no doubt in her mind that she's completely dominating you, that she's utterly in charge.

-

Yuna throws herself onto her bed, feeling incredibly pleased with herself. Step one is complete. She picked out a cute outfit that looked innocent, but still enticing. She chose a restaurant that had a casual atmosphere, but still allowed them to sit and talk comfortably. She held his hand, she stared deeply into his eyes, she smiled at him and laughed at all his stupid jokes. And yes, it was embarrassing when she accidentally spilt her drink, but it worked out! He walked her home and gave her a hug, which was perfect. A perfect opportunity to tempt him with her body, and show off her curves. A preview of what he can have if he obeys. If he bends to her will.

Ryujin is listening to all the details of how Yuna thinks she has you wrapped around her little finger. Ryujin can't help but shake her head at her friend's naivety. Sure, maybe she got a few moments where she could entice you, but Ryujin knows you can't be won over by cheap tricks and flirtatious looks. What you need is someone more bold. Someone bolder, someone who will make the first move, and then take charge.

"...and then we hugged, and he was totally into me, I felt his heart beat faster, he was sooo excited," Yuna enthusiastically tells Ryujin. "And then he was just staring at me as I walked up the steps. He was, like, ogling my legs."

"Wow," Ryujin answers, with little enthusiasm. "Did he agree to make you valedictorian?"

"Kinda," Yuna answers. "Well, no. But he will. Trust me."

"You think that's enough? Empty promises and some light flirting?" Ryujin shakes her head and lets out a dismissive laugh. "Bare minimum."

"What? Do you want me to just ask him outright if he wants to bang? That's not how people work, they aren't direct like that," Yuna protests.

"You think Heejin is just gonna do the same? You think Heejin's gonna hold his hand and giggle at his shitty puns?"

"Yes," Yuna insists.

"Nope," Ryujin immediately corrects. "If she finds out that you took him out to dinner and tried to flirt with him, she's going to do something about it."

"Like what?"

"She's going to beat you. She's going to be bold, brash, and blunt, and she's going to seduce him so hard he doesn't have a choice," Ryujin confidently replies.

Yuna scoffs. "Yeah, right. Heejin's gonna seduce him? Please." She rolls her eyes and waves a dismissive hand. "She's pretty but there's no way she's going to throw herself at him."

Even as Yuna says it, the doubt creeps into her mind. Heejin did have her hand on your lap. And her legs... she wasn't exactly covering much. What if she takes it a step further? That uncertainty turns into something else, and Yuna starts to feel a little paranoid. "Oh my god," she says, a frown on her face, sitting up as if she's suddenly had a revelation. "So, hypothetically, maybe, just maybe, she somehow finds out that I went to dinner with him. Maybe, hypothetically, she decides to act, like, bold and seduce him."

Ryujin gives a long sigh and shakes her head. "That's exactly what she's gonna do. There's only one person on earth who cares about accolades as much as you, and that's Heejin. She's going to get what she wants, and that's graduation as valedictorian, even if she has to give up her dignity to do it." Ryujin tilts her head and adds, as if it were obvious, "You should be in his room right now."

"Fuck."

-

Yuna left the dorm immediately, and she is walking that same route you did just ten minutes earlier, her entire body charged with a sense of urgency, her heart pumping with nerves. She's trying to stay calm, but there's no way to not admit that this is, potentially, bad. Very bad.

The anxiety gnaws at her, and as she rushes through the darkness, she starts to wonder what Heejin might be doing right now, what she might say to him, and the kind of persuasion she might use. She doesn't trust Ryujin's words, no, but they keep echoing in her head.

'She's going to be bold, and brash, and blunt, and she's going to seduce him so hard he won't have a choice.'

The thought strikes her, the terrible feeling of just not knowing what's going on in your room. Yuna wants to bash down your door, throw herself in, and see for herself. It's driving her a little crazy.

Yuna takes a moment to process what this could mean for her, what could possibly be going on behind the walls, in the building ahead of her. She can't just walk in alone, no, it's the men's dorm. But... she overheard it once. A few guys were jealous that you had the solo dorm, the big room on the bottom floor at the end of the building. So she could probably work out which window is yours. Then, well, one look inside to see you relaxing, hopefully, alone...

Yuna steps off the path and begins to round the building. It's dark and quiet out, but that just makes her feel like it's even more indecent and dirty that she's finding excuses to spy on you. There are no lights on in the rooms above, it looks like everyone else in the building is either asleep or has gone out for the night. Your window, though, your room... there's definitely a light on.

She draws close, and when she rounds the corner, she peeks up. There's you, just standing in the room. Just the sight of you alone gives her relief.

Until the peeks a little further. Her eyes go wide and her breath catches in her throat.

It's Heejin.

She's on her knees, still wearing her uniform, but with the top few buttons popped, and her hair tied up in a ponytail. You're looking down at her, eyes fixed on hers. One hand's in her hair, your fingers running through it, stroking her hair. You look so pleased, so satisfied. So relaxed and comfortable.

Heejin's hands are on your hips, and Yuna notices her long, elegant fingers pressing into you. She looks so confident, so smug. So in control. So in charge. Yuna can feel the rage inside.

How could this be possible? This can't be happening. There's no way. There's no way.

Heejin grabs your hip and drags you closer, her other hand sliding up under your shirt. Her nails lightly scrape against your skin. She smiles when you flinch, and the expression on your face shows you're enjoying yourself.

Under her breath, Yuna mutters, "No fucking way. She's..."

She's sucking your cock.

Yuna stares. She stares and she can't stop. She can't tear her eyes away from the sight of Heejin, her lips around your length, taking you deep into her mouth. You're looking down at her, playing with her hair. The look of bliss on your face is impossible to ignore.

Heejin's skilled, Yuna realises with a growing sense of horror. She knows her way around it, with her lips circling the tip, tongue swirling and coating you in saliva, and her lips then easing your length further inside her. It's so fluid and smooth, and she's only using her mouth. How good must it feel?

She can imagine it. The hot, moist mouth on you, the soft, wet insides, the pressure of a mouth wrapping around you. The hum of approval as she continues to tease and play. The slurping and slobbering sounds. How it would look like her taking you deeper and deeper, her forehead touching the base, and how her throat would tighten around you.

Yuna feels her body ache. She's watching her position as valedictorian be sucked away down Heejin's throat. The girl whose a joint first, the same as her, is all but sealing her own victory with your climax. Her eyes are wide, staring at the scene in front of her, her fingers dug into the palm of her hand. This is absurd, impossible, unbelievable.

Heejin can't win like this. There's no way Heejin's better than her. Is she?

There's only one way she can stop it.

-

Heejin's sucking your brains out through your dick, making your spine tingle and your breath come in jagged and short gasps. It's nothing but pleasure for you. There are no thoughts, no conscious mind, just the sensation in your core.

Her mouth slides up and down, dragging up your shaft, her tongue sliding along it, licking and tasting the salty mixture of precum and spit. She draws her lips up your head, right to the tip, where she teases you with her tongue before plunging you back into the depths of her throat.

God, it feels amazing, every second of it. You can hear her gagging, choking, the sounds are so vivid and raw that you can't help but groan, tightening your grasp of her ponytail, just like she asked you to. She likes it. You can tell she likes it by the way she inhales every time you pull her close and shove yourself into her. Her nails dig into your ass, dragging you closer to her as you press up against the back of her throat, and she's showing no sign of relenting.

This can't last, though. This kind of sensation, the ecstasy and passion and tension, has a breaking point, and you know your orgasm is coming. Heejin does too, because her pace starts picking up, and her head bobs faster up and down your shaft, her throat choking on your head, her mouth so tight and warm around you.

You fight it, the urge, the need to finish. You want this to last forever, you want it to keep going, the feeling of her lips, her throat, the sloppy noises of her sucking you dry. But the orgasm is inevitable. Your hands instinctively drag her to you, and you can feel the tremble in your hips, the buildup in your balls and the tightness in your pelvis.

But it's all fucking ruined. A bang on the door.

"What the fuck is that?" Heejin asks, pulling you from her mouth with a sloppy 'pop'.

The bang on the door happens again, more frantic this time.

"The fuck do they think they're—" Heejin groans in frustration. She wipes the cum and spit from her lips and chin with the back of her arm. "You have to tell whoever that is to fuck off."

"I, uh, yeah." You pull up your boxers, leaving your trousers open, you prepare to peek your head around the door and let the asshole who's ruining the moment know to get lost. You pull it open to just a crack, enough to bark out a bunch of curses, but you're taken aback by what you see:

Yuna.

"Yuna?" You blink a few times, trying to make sure it's not some delusion. "Wh-what are you doing here?"

"I— uh," Yuna stutters, looking a bit uncomfortable. She takes a deep breath, composes herself, and looks you directly in the eye. "Can I come in? I need to talk to you."

"Um, now's not a really good time." You glance over your shoulder, and you see Heejin perched on the edge of your bed. Her legs are crossed and her skirt is so far up her leg it's revealing the entirety of one thigh and just a little of her ass. She has her school shirt pulled a bit too low, giving an even better glimpse of her cleavage.

"It won't take a minute," Yuna quickly says. She tries to give you an imploring, and a pleading, look. "Please? I have an offer for you."

"Okay, um." You glance over your shoulder again. Heejin raises her eyebrows, looking amused. You bite your lip.

Yuna is staring at you with as much focus and persistence as she can muster. "I promise my offer is better than hers."

How the fuck do these girls seem to know everything? "Yuna—"

"I know she's in there, don't play dumb."

There's no denying it now, she knows.

"What the fuck are you doing in his room?" Yuna calls out to Heejin.

"Thought that was obvious," Heejin replies from behind you.

"You're—"

"Doing exactly what you wanted to do!" Heejin calls out to interrupt her.

Yuna goes quiet for a second, and then she holds out her hands. "Let me in."

"Yuna, listen, we're kinda in the middle of something," you protest.

"You were. You aren't anymore. I came along and now you have an offer to listen to, right? So let me in." Yuna is insistent. "Now."

You sigh and take a step back to let her pass.

She wastes no time. She walks right past you and into your room, heads straight for Heejin, and glares down at her. "So, is this how you planned to win? Sucking him off? A blowjob? Really?"

Heejin smirks and doesn't seem ashamed. If anything, it almost seems like a challenge.

"Okay. Whatever," Yuna goes on. "We're here now. We're all three together. And—" She turns her head and looks right at you. "—you're choosing one of us. Right here, right now." Yuna drops to her knees, her dark eyes locked onto yours as she pleads through them. She unbuttons her shirt completely and lets it fall off her arms. Underneath is a lingerie bra that holds her full breasts, its fabric thin and mostly see-through. "I'm better than her," she pleads.

There's no shame, no embarrassment. She's offering up her body in the name of competition. Her confidence has outpaced her modesty, and she doesn't care. Her body is on display, and she's daring you to look.

"Not really convincing enough," Heejin says dryly, leaning back, with one eyebrow raised.

You're still reeling—utterly astonished by this whole situation—by how absurd it's become. Everything is escalating so quickly, and your mind can barely keep up. These two beauties are squaring off against each other, a contest of sex to see who gets the status they crave. They both want the valedictorian position. Both students with the best grades and perfect attendance managed to find time to lead school societies and run after-school clubs.

Now, they've come to you for the deciding vote. They are both offering up their bodies, their most valuable assets, to earn it. A bit silly. A strange plan.

There's this mixture of amusement and disgust on Heejin's face as she looks over Yuna. This sort of derisive curl of her lip, combined with a half-hearted roll of her eyes. "Wasn't sure you had it in you, to be honest." She lays back against the bed, adjusting her skirt, letting the hem rise even higher on her legs. "Don't get me wrong, I always had you pegged as a bit of a slut."

Yuna just about manages not to show her outrage. "Yeah? You're the whore spreading her legs."

Heejin gives a small laugh, and again she shrugs and doesn't seem fazed. It's like she's unbothered by the insult like it's little more than a light breeze against her skin. "Just playing the game. Just like you, right?"

"This is crazy," you announce. "If the principal found out you're both in my room—"

"—this stays between the three of us," Heejin says, standing up.

"Yeah," Yuna echoes. She's still on her knees, the straps of her lingerie hanging from her shoulders, the shirt thrown on the floor, her plump breasts bare and exposed. "We don't tell anyone what happens here."

"Fuck," you breathe out. "You're serious."

Both girls nod.

They both want it, and they're prepared to do anything to get it. This rivalry is such a natural part of who they are, and who they've always been. How neither was able to stop the other or to find a better way to resolve things, is all connected back to what they must think is inevitable about themselves. They aren't friends, the two of them. Heejin and Yuna, they also aren't simply just competitors—rivals—those words don't go far enough, to explain their relationship. It's one of such dedication and passion, such pride and achievement, that to have someone matching every accomplishment, every grade, every victory, must drive them mad.

You remember watching a nature program once, something about wildlife, some documentary explaining how two aspiring leaders of a pride ended up locked in a rivalry. Though you can't quite remember all the details, something about a rift forming and how things had spiralled out of control between them. If only there was a way for them to live in harmony, some animal expert would have said at the end of the show, sadly shaking his head.

You look at the two of them. Harmony is a million miles away.

Yuna takes you by the hand, pulling your fingers and inviting you to touch her. Her hands guide yours, moving them over the curve of her breasts, and her soft, warm, skin. Her chest rises and falls steadily under your palm, and you caress her, touch her, cup her. You move one hand up, running over the length of her neck, up her jaw, to her cheeks and her ears. You brush her hair out of the way with your thumb, and she shifts forward. Her dark eyes are staring up at you, and you feel a shock run through your body.

"I swear I'm so much better than her," Yuna promises, in the quietest voice you've ever heard. It's soft, but there's also an intensity to it, a persistence like a raindrop hitting stone. "Trust me."

Pursed lips near the tip of your cock. Yuna's warm breath kisses the tip. She moves her tongue up, licking across your head. She's different to Heejin, more tentative, slower, and focused entirely on the feeling. Her touch is more gentle, less ferocious and domineering. When she takes you into her mouth, you can feel the sensation of her carefully tracing your length with the tip of her tongue, coiling you up inside, making you tingle, sparks coursing through your spine.

Yuna is watching you closely, her gaze not straying from your face for one second, as if she's so eager to see your reactions to her touch. Her gaze is focused, and intense, and she appears satisfied with how you're enjoying yourself. It feels incredible. Something about the eye contact, her attentive and focused style, and the way her lips glide up and down with pure reverence, is driving you crazy.

Heejin is behind you, trying to draw your attention. One of her arms wraps around your torso, her hand stroking across your front, exploring and exploring, her fingernails dragging over you in teasing lines. The heat of her breath hits your ear, hot enough to make you shiver, and you suddenly feel her bite your lobe. She knows where to attack, and she starts raining kisses along the side of your neck. Small nips and nibbles. Up to your jaw, tracing lines of heat along your skin. On your ear, her soft, red lips, suckling, her teeth leave little marks. When she sees your eyes are still on Yuna, a throaty, husky, disapproving purr in your ear. "Oh no you don't. Pay attention to me."

Her slender fingers tug at your jaw, turning you towards her. Kisses rain down on your mouth, not satisfied until her lips are plastered across yours. She strokes the tip of her tongue across your own, inviting you to taste, to explore. Her kiss makes you quiver inside, almost melting you, making every part of you tremble and weaken.

But it's when Yuna caresses you further, her hands finding your ass and grabbing tight, dragging your cock deep into her throat. The sound that erupts from you only spurs her on further.

You hear Heejin murmur quietly into your ear while running her hand through your hair, "Enjoying this?"

You swallow, taking a moment to compose yourself. You open your mouth to speak, only for your tongue to trip over an answer.

"I'm sure she's great and all," Heejin continues, "but you want the best, right?" She plants another kiss on your mouth, giving you a tempting taste, and keeping you close. "You must miss how much better I am."

Yuna's efforts begin to escalate, hearing the conversation continue. Determination has been written over her face. Now, however, her eyes dart up to glare at her competitor. It's cute, seeing how hard she's trying.

Heejin slips one of her hands under Yuna's cheek, her nails scratching lightly, scraping down her chin. She hooks them underneath and guides the girl's head, forcing Yuna's movement to stop. You can feel the subtle vibrations of Yuna letting out an annoyed groan.

"I bet you're not even close, are you? You can't cum from this, right?" Heejin's voice is soft and saccharine, dripping with mock sincerity.

"You're trying to piss her off," you point out.

"Good," Heejin drawls. "Does it piss her off, knowing that it's me who can finish the job?"

A frustrated Yuna ducks her head free from Heejin and takes you back into her mouth, starting anew, trying to prove something to someone. She's different now, you notice. Feistier, and more insistent. No more gentle, careful movements. She's moved on from worship, now charging through to ravish. She takes you hard, quickly, and thoroughly. There is an unrelenting pace to her. No patience, no playing, just the relentless need to do. She pulls and pushes, pressing and sucking, burying her nose at the base.

You wince at the heat, the slickness, how her tongue now massages you as her lips firmly embrace you. She's gripping hard at your ass, driving you onto her tongue. The warmth of her breath against your flesh is impossible to ignore. Hot breaths, soft and humid, leave goosebumps on your skin.

This new attitude has gotten the better of you. You can't help but give in. Threads of pleasure entwine up the length of your spine, each sharp twist of Yuna's mouth drawing the sweetest song out of you. Heejin has stolen your voice as a chorus is crawling up your throat, and you can barely hope to keep it down.

There's no stopping you, the finish is inevitable. You move to pull out, to stop yourself, yet Yuna swallows around you in response, taking you deeper into her waiting throat. Not a hint of an intention to let go. No, Yuna refuses to stop until you've emptied every single drop inside.

Heejin still won't relent, either. She kisses a constellation on your shoulder, up the side of your neck, her sweet caresses are lingering, teasing your flesh, dancing fingertips that burn in the best way. It doesn't do anything to soothe the tension inside.

You fill her mouth, flooding her with thick ropes. You can't imagine what it might feel like, all that hot fluid sliding down into her stomach. Once, then twice, then a third time, you spill inside, shuddering and groaning in release.

Yuna drags a heavy breath. It's not even over, as she's already trying to take you deeper. "Mm," Yuna moans, her voice trembling. She nuzzles forward, eagerly coaxing what's left, accepting the remaining throbs against her tongue, swallowing when she has to. You shiver at how she seems so hungry for every drop, her strength only seems to grow the more she drinks. She finally lets you out of her mouth with a pop and flashes a grin.

"So nice of her to finish what I started," Heejin quips and Yuna glares at her. "After I did all the work."

"Maybe you should've finished the job instead of talking shit," Yuna throws back.

Heejin tilts her head a little. "I have much better ideas. Want to see?" She smirks.

Heejin sits on the edge of your desk, reaching out to take your hand. She presses your palm to her chest, just above her breast, her uniform top exposing a tantalizing window of skin.

You look at her. Her eyes. The shape of her face, the sharp lines of her jaw, the elegant arch of her brows, the curve of her nose. The pretty rosy tint in her cheeks. Then her mouth. Her bitten lips, the long neck, the exposed part of her chest. Heejin knows how to pull you in.

Your mind is blank, just fixated on her, how gorgeous she looks. She's pulling open her shirt, unbuttoning it, unhooking her bra. She's undressing, putting herself on display, only for you. It's entrancing.

Her body is perfect, lean and toned, the sculpted muscle and firm curves making her look like a piece of art. Beautiful. Then her legs, perfect thighs, the muscles not too built, but trim and taut, soft to the touch.

She bunches her skirt at her waist, exposing her panties, those small scraps of silken fabric, almost see-through, the threads clinging to the contours of her hips and the mound between her legs. Heejin draws her hand there, exploring the smooth cloth, the delicate lingerie highlighting the body underneath.

She slips her thumb below the edge of the fabric, her fingers following, before she peels them down her legs, shuffling them past her thighs and her knees and kicking them off her feet. Her bare skin is tantalizing, her body like a vision of unknown riches. "Do you like what you see?" she asks, her voice pure silk.

"What the fuck?" It's Yuna's exclamation, and the shock inside it, which makes you tear your gaze away. She is sitting on the floor, in her dishevelled uniform, pieces of clothing half-unbuttoned and hanging off her. "Is there a limit? How far are you going to go?"

"I told you, I have ideas," Heejin emphasises the plurality. She's completely unabashed, and without hesitation, she pulls you by the scruff of your shirt, towards her. A handful of you, drawing you between her legs, and then laying her lips on your skin. Traces of kisses on your chest, the brush of her tongue, her lips, her teeth. Words spoken against your body with hot breath, "Don't mind her. Enjoy me, instead."

It's like being drawn into the ocean. Heejin is pulling you in. Her serenity becomes calming and comforting, and there's no way to escape the feeling. She locks her legs around your hips, her hands grasping and caressing you. Nails digging into your skin and trailing along it. Each pull and tug on you is possessive. You run your hands over her skin. Soft thigh, plump breast, toned waist. Each part is addictive, and you can't decide which to take. You caress her face, running your hand over her cheek, letting her dark eyes shine with affection as she smiles, lifting her head to steal a kiss.

Yuna, the frustrated voyeur, can only watch as you grind yourself against Heejin, rubbing yourself along the sodden line between her legs. With each pass, her fluids cover the tip, smearing them and soaking the end. Each roll gets harder to fight, your instincts telling you to rush the heat into something more.

"There we go," Heejin murmurs. "No need to rush. Take your time. Enjoy me," she insists, encouraging you, "and I can show you just how much I can please you."

Tender. Gentle. This isn't some quick fuck, this is Heejin spoiling you. Worship, desire, lust. Each glance into her eyes sends a bolt of thrill into your gut, and your length continues to swell. Your mind becomes more and more intoxicated with each fresh coat, your cock aching, slowly and frustratingly sinking into her. You hold her thighs, lift them, and drag her closer. She squeaks with your grip, her body shuddering with one steady breath. "Mm, yes," she groans.

"Take me," she begs, and it's a plea that you simply cannot resist. A shuddering sigh of her pleasure at last releases, her head tilting back in an agonising cry. You slide as deep as you can go. No. Deeper. Your pace is agonising. Too slow. Far, far too slow. You grind into her, taking every chance to relish how her body clenches around you.

You know why she's doing this. Why she wants you to focus on her and forget about the other girl in the room. Why she wants to convince you, with every stroke of your cock inside, that she's the one who deserves it most. Yuna might have made you climax, but Heejin? Heejin has you mesmerised. Every twitch of her inner walls against you feels exquisite. Addictive. You want nothing more than to plunge into her again and again, desperate to take it all, all the wet, wonderful friction. Your grip on her hips tightens, holding her close as your bodies collide.

Yuna lets out a sound of frustration and disappointment. Her lips hang parted, unable to believe what she's seeing, gazing on as you are slowly overtaken. The two of you panting. Squeaking gasps from Heejin. Your own groans and grunts. Yuna mutters something, glaring daggers into the pair of you, though her words don't fully register in your mind.

"Mmm..." Heejin breathes, and with another squeeze, she guides your hands up to her chest. You massage her breasts, tracing shapes around her nipples. Your fingers trail and play and press, cupping and squeezing and massaging. Heejin melts into you, gasping for air, her body tingling. She moans a long, languid sigh of bliss, then bites down on her bottom lip.

The motions are so languid, every instant stretching out forever. Heejin's petite body feels so tender beneath you, so pliable. Like it was designed to be adored. Your every thrust is answered by hers, your bodies coming together as one.

When Heejin's fingernails dig into your shoulder blades, urging you closer, you grab her face. You tilt it upward, toward you. Her dark brown eyes meet yours.

Then her body shivers, quakes, stiffens, and spasms. The tight, squeezing depths within her constrict, compressing you. She holds onto you even harder than before. Her teeth bite down on her lip. A yelp turns into a whimper, which turns into a silent cry until all the sensations inside seem to boil over. She writhes in orgasm, her body racked by waves of euphoria, unable to control her reaction. She clings tightly, and the waves of ecstasy ripple outwards, travelling throughout her entire frame. Even her voice is distorted. Her breath catches and she quivers, gasping loudly. She struggles, her grip on you tightening, her body twisting and contorting as she shakes violently.

And you would be excused for thinking that would be it. That her delicate little body could take no more.

But you would be wrong.

She's snaking her fingers into your hair, drawing you to her as she falls flat against the desk. You're over her now. You're fucking her, down against the wood of the desk, nails digging into her thighs. She writhes and whines beneath you, her pants unashamed and delightfully arousing, her red face begging for more.

She's beautiful. All long limbs, dark eyes, soft skin, the supple flesh yielding under your rough treatment.

"Give me everything you've got," she taunts, and she's about to say more, it's on the tip of her tongue, but when you hook her leg and pull it over your shoulder, it cuts off her next retort, and suddenly the only sounds in the room are those of pleasure.

Faster, harder. Heejin has shown off enough, flaunting the kind of sexual prowess you never expected from the quiet girl who always sat at the front of the class.

Then again, it's always the quiet ones...

Yuna's still here. Watching. Enthralled, but also furious. Her hands clutch her skirt, balling the fabric in her fists. She wants to march over to the two of you and kick Heejin aside. She wants to scream her frustrations and push the interloper out of the way. And she wants you to fuck her the same way you did Heejin, so you can compare and find her superior.

Her fists clench to leave bloody crescents in her palm, teeth grit hard and grind. It's not jealousy, Yuna would deny it. She's never been jealous of anything Heejin does or has, because Yuna's always had what she needs and then some. Except tonight.

"Fuck you both!" She declares, indignant, but the pair of you pay her no heed.

And that only infuriates Yuna more.

"I'll report the two of you. This is fucked up!"

Even as you pound her, Heejin has just enough presence to dismiss her with a laugh inter-laden into her moans. "Report yourself for sucking him off, too."

There's nothing else she can say, no barbed insults or derisive statements she can fling at either of you. So she grabs her shirt off the floor and leaves in a huff. The sound of the slamming door rings through the room, like the period to a sentence.

It just allows you and Heejin to go even harder.

Soon the world closes in around you. Only the thumping desk remains, only the frantic rhythm of your bodies pounding against each other, only her tiny moans, muffled into the crease of her elbow, only her clenching pussy as she convulses, trembling. Her tight, warm walls flutter as they enclose your cock, milking every inch, rippling in rhythmic spasms.

You need a moment. To take a breath, gather your thoughts. You're nearly spent, so you change your tact.

You pull her from the desk and turn her to its edge. "I like the way you think," she coos, then sprawls herself against it. Her chest pressed against the wood. Her cute little ass presented in all its glory, begging for attention. It fits into your palms like perfection. Each soft cheek moulds itself to you, filling up your grip perfectly. She squirms a bit, enticingly, pushing her hips backwards against you as if she's afraid you might lose interest.

You enter her once more.

A squeak leaves her lips. It's so adorable. Cute. But also hot as fuck.

Tight body, tight cunt. A tiny little thing, yet somehow able to withstand your assault. Her slender frame jolts with the impact of each thrust.

You slap against her flesh, sending ripples through her skin. Her cute butt. The arch of her back. You grab her there, at the waist—that slutty little waist—and hold onto her tightly while you sink inside. Over and over. Relentless.

She twists, her nails dragging across the desk's surface, scrambling for purchase. Her eyes roll back and her legs buckle, a hoarse wail breaking from her throat. She looks like she's possessed, her features drawn into an ecstatic rictus. She cries out as the sensations overwhelm her. You can feel it happening. Since her unravelling.

"Yes, fuck," Heejin sputters. "Give me what I want."

And you don't know exactly what she means by that. Is it your cock or is it the title, but who are you to complain?

Then it comes, rushing at you like a tidal wave. You fall down on top of her, her delicate body straining underneath you. "Cum," she whimpers.

So you pin her there, under you, and empty yourself inside her. Your whole body sings, shaking uncontrollably as you unload.

"How was it?" Heejin giggles. "To fuck the future valedictorian?" Asked with the confidence that it was a foregone conclusion.

-

Decision day comes. It's been two days since you finished inside Heejin as a form of agreement, and two days since you last spoke to Yuna. It's all hostile stares and annoyed mutterings.

You feel bad. The fact that this whole thing devolved into some sordid exchange of sexual favours really gnaws at you. It doesn't sit well. You knew Yuna liked you, she never kept it a secret. In fact, it's cute that she was trying so hard to impress you. It all felt a little earnest, compared to Heejin's ruthless manner.

You've woken this morning with a conclusion that is quite frankly the easy way out. Yuna hasn't tried to argue it, she just keeps her scowl and glares from afar, like you're the antichrist. Meanwhile, Heejin gives a satisfied smile whenever you look her way.

At least this madness will end. You'll see your father today, give him the decision, and forget all of this, or try your hardest to.

First, you need to get out of bed, though, throw off these duvet covers and stand. Stretching gives some relief to the back, and it perks you up. A shower, breakfast, and some coffee—the standard routine. After that, it's clean clothes and a walk to the office.

That's how it should be, anyway.

You're still in only your underwear when there's a knock on your door.

"Give me a minute! Hang on," you call.

The doorknob rattles but doesn't open. Then there's the hammering of a palm against the wood. Impatient. Persistent. Another rattle of the doorknob.

You concede. Wearing nothing more than your underwear, you poke your head around the door and peek out of the opening.

There, arms folded, impatient foot tapping the floor, is Yuna. "I need to talk to you," she says, brow furrowed and serious.

"What's—"

Yuna tries to push the door but your body is blocking it.

"Yuna, I need a minute to—"

"—we need to talk." Her tone is urgent and agitated. She's not angry, exactly.

You relent. This sounds important. Maybe you've misjudged things. "Okay, okay, come in."

"Finally," she sighs, stepping past you and heading straight for the chair by the desk.

As you shut the door, she turns her gaze onto you. The intensity of her eyes, the depth, like swirling galaxies within a cloudless night sky.

"Yuna... I didn't think you wanted to see me, not after everything that happened."

"Yeah, I've thought a lot about that actually," she tells you. Her eyes don't leave you, roaming across your body. "We both wanted the same thing, but Heejin got there first. Today's the day, isn't it? Decision day. Your dad's going to want an answer." She's wearing her uniform again, freshly pressed, the white blouse starched and stiff, the skirt just skimming her knees.

"I was going to head over soon, actually."

"So it's not too late?"

"Too late for?"

"One final twist." Yuna reaches up to loosen the tie of her blouse. One by one, she starts working her way through the buttons, popping each one through the buttonholes. "How about we revisit the competition?"

"You can't be serious?" You ask, but you watch as she slips the shirt off her arms. Then she's reaching to undo the catch of her bra—soft blue lace cupping her full breasts. She peels the cups down and flicks the bra aside, revealing her perfect chest.

"I'm deadly serious." Yuna stands.

The arousal rises in you quickly, and you can feel yourself getting hard. There's no hiding it, and Yuna notices immediately, a smirk breaking across her pretty face. Yuna takes the opportunity, steps closer, and plants a palm against your abdomen. She trails her fingers down to trace the outline of your cock against your boxers, the thin material not hiding anything. A small laugh.

"There we go, now you're paying attention." She wraps her fingers around you through the material. It's electrifying, having her touch you like this. Her hands are small and delicate, but her grip is firm. She moves her palm up and down, stroking you gently and enticing you.

Your breath catches in your throat, the tension growing as she plays with your dick. "Yuna..." you manage, your heart pounding, your palms clammy.

"Do you like that?" she teases, her thumb brushing across the tip of your head through the cloth.

All you can do is nod, your mind hazy with lust, your legs weak. She grins, a predatory twinkle in her eye. She moves forward, pushing you backwards onto the bed, your legs buckling under the surprise assault. You land flat on your back, and Yuna looks down at you.

"Can I be honest with you?" she asks as she pushes her fingers into the waistband of her skirt. She slips it down, revealing her matching blue panties.

"Yeah?" you reply, unable to keep your gaze off her body.

"I've always kinda had a thing for you," she admits, "and it's kind of annoying that it takes some stupid shit like this for me to say something. But I've also kinda hated that Heejin got a hold of you, like, in a weird way, she won because she was braver than me."

"Braver? What does that have to do with—"

"—she wasn't scared to let you fuck her," Yuna interrupts. She steps forward until she's standing above you. "Guess what?" Her question is rhetorical. She hooks her fingers into her underwear and slips them down her smooth thighs. "It's my turn."

She's beautiful. Flawless skin, toned muscles, and perfect curves. Every detail of her is meticulously crafted, like a sculpture by an old master. It's hard not to stare. Your eyes are fixed on hers as she crawls onto the bed. The mattress dips, and you shuffle up the sheets, unsure where to put yourself as she straddles you.

"Look all you want." Yuna lowers herself down. She places her palms against your chest, pinning you, and lowers down further. You feel a warm heat press itself against your groin. The wetness soaking into the fabric. She begins to slowly grind herself against you, rubbing herself against your erection. "Have I ever told you about my dance classes?" she asks with a smirk, her hips swaying back and forth. She grinds herself against you in a rhythmic, slow, pattern, and the sensation is so intense and pleasurable that you groan. "I'm really good with my hips. Really good."

Yuna keeps going, her body swaying and grinding, and your underwear grows wetter. It's torturously good, the friction from her pussy, the wet heat against your length. It's impressive to watch the way her body rolls, the precision, the control.

Eventually, she slows, smiling slyly. Her fingers trace their way down your abdomen, down your stomach, and hook into the waistband of your boxers. With a slight tug, she pulls them down, freeing your hardness from its confines. She leans forward again, positioning herself above you, ready to descend.

This feels a little unreal. You never expected it to happen, nor did you ever expect her to be this assertive. "Yuna..."

"Relax," she says, lowering herself. She holds you in place. "Honestly, even if you still choose Heejin later, I won't care. I just needed to do this."

Then she lets gravity drop her and there's a sudden pressure around your length, her warmth encasing you, her muscles wrapping around you. Her head tips back slightly and her expression softens as she exhales. The feeling is incredible, and your groans echo hers. The tightness around your cock, the warmth and moistness, and the sight of her perfect naked form on top of you.

Yuna wastes no time, she lifts herself, rolling her hips up, and then slides back down. Her breathing becomes louder, more ragged. You reach out to grab her, your hands instinctively moving to her sides to pull her down into you. She welcomes the grip, biting her lower lip as you pull her into you, her breath coming in quick bursts.

"Does that feel good?" she asks, her voice husky, her body rocking against you.

"It feels amazing," you reply, your hands roaming up to squeeze her breasts.

A soft laugh escapes her as she shifts her weight back and forth, riding you, controlling the rhythm and pace. She's practised and precise like every movement is part of a well-rehearsed routine. "Better than Heejin?" she asks.

"You're incredible," you gasp, grabbing her tighter. The words seem to spur her on further, and she picks up speed. Each movement sends a ripple of pleasure through your body. She's in complete control, dictating the pace, deciding how deep, how hard, and how fast. You've given yourself completely over to her, allowing her to use you as she wants, to ride you however she pleases.

"That's good," she hums, picking up her pace. "I'll do my best for you."

She shifts again, leaning back slightly, changing the angle. She bounces, her breasts swaying with every rise and fall. She has found the perfect spot. "Oh fuck yes!" you hiss, your hands grasping at her thighs and body arching upwards.

"Mmmm," she moans, picking up the tempo. She's riding you now, fast and hard, sweat forming on her brow. "Fuck!" Her curse is rare, strange coming from her mouth, but it's welcome, especially as it's followed by her panting harder.

The room is filled with the sounds of slapping skin and heavy breaths. The air is thick with the scent of sex. You're both sweating, grunting, panting.

As great of a spectacle, as breathtaking a sight, she is, it's a constant struggle. You get so close to bursting into her, only for her to feel it coming, take a moment of pause, slow to a grind and adjust her position again, denying you of an ending. She's teasing you, playing you, keeping you on edge.

You want nothing more than to throw her down, kneel behind her and rail her until you cum deep into her, to hold her tight while you fill her up. Yet, despite how easily you could, how simple it would be to move her and shove her to the bed and do whatever you wanted, you can't do it. Something about watching her is mesmerising, and you can't take your eyes away. You watch her move, how her muscles flex with each rock and roll, how her breasts jiggle and shake with each bounce, how her head tilts back, her eyelids flutter and how her teeth bite on her bottom lip. The sight is far too powerful, far too thrilling, to break away from.

It must be plastered all over your face, the need, because she says, "You can't cum inside, it's not safe, but," and she gives that wicked smile once again, "I have an idea." She drags herself off of you, and then she turns around and bends over, facing away from you, exposing herself, her pussy soaked and glistening. You get the picture.

Then she hits her own ass. An open-palmed slap right across it, making the supple flesh ripple, a red mark stinging bright on her otherwise pale complexion. "Like what you see?" Yuna coos.

"Absolutely," you reply.

She sways her hips side-to-side, a small enticement. "Good." She lowers her hips, settling her cheeks on either side of your cock. Her hand pulls you between them, and as she shakes her ass side to side, Yuna lets out a satisfied chuckle. Then she begins to move, back and forth, sliding you between her cheeks. She grips and squeezes you tightly, using her own ass as a toy.

There's something raw and dirty about it. The way she rubs you with her cheeks, squeezing and pressing you into the cleft between them. Her skin is smooth and silky, her ass perfectly round and perky. It's intoxicating—addictive. Every time she squeezes, you feel that build-up inside you grow hotter. A boiling sensation, searing through your veins. It feels so good, but it's still not enough. You want more.

Yuna knows this isn't enough, and there's only one thing you would wish for her to do next. She pushes her hand between her legs, taking hold of your shaft firmly. Then, slowly, deliberately, she spreads her buttocks with one hand while guiding you between them with the other. The anticipation builds until she finally presses your cockhead against her asshole.

It's tight. Very, very tight. There's some initial resistance as she tries to force herself down onto you, but she's patient. Slow. Inch by inch, she sinks downwards. Soon, the tip of your cock slips into her, causing her to groan in discomfort, biting down on her lip to keep quiet, but she refuses to stop.

You can only watch as she draws your cock into her ass, stretching and adjusting to fit. She gasps, her eyes wide, her expression contorted. She takes a moment to collect herself, before sinking even further, taking more of you into her ass. You marvel at how her tight hole stretches to accommodate you. You've never felt anything like this before; the tightness is unlike any other sensation.

As Yuna continues to sink down, she begins to shudder with pain and discomfort. She's struggling. You place your hand on her ass, rubbing and caressing it, encouraging her. Yuna lets out a long breath, her head hanging down, sweat dripping from her brow. You're barely halfway in but she's rocking her hips and groaning.

"I want you to cum inside," she whispers, her voice hoarse, almost desperate, looking over her shoulder. Her back is arched where her waist narrows, the definition in her muscles more pronounced from the effort.

"You sure?" you ask, gripping her hips tightly.

She nods frantically, her hair falling into her face. Her hands grip the bedsheets tightly. She pushes herself down, finding a rhythm, pushing and pulling. You help, using your grip to guide her, but you're careful not to hurt her. She starts to pick up speed, working herself up and down, taking more and more of you into her with each pass.

It's intense, watching her work, seeing her concentrate so hard. Eventually she relaxes, her body less tense. She's adjusted to the sensation now, getting used to having you buried in her, and she seems to enjoy it. You find yourself lost in the beauty of her body, her slim figure, her narrow waist, her taut ass and toned thighs, the way she moves with such purpose and grace. Even under stress, her poise shines through.

She begins to move faster, rocking her hips, pulling you deeper into her ass. Her movements become smoother and more fluid. Each time she sinks down onto you, she groans loudly. She's loving it, her eyes closed, her mouth open in strained pleasure. You hear her muttering things under her breath, like "Yes" and "fuck." Each time she says it, you can't help but smile. She's really enjoying herself. You love the sound of it.

Her walls cling to you tightly, her tight hole squeezing you firmly. Every time she rocks her hips, it sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, building, pulsing, and growing, until finally, your muscles clench. She grunts in exertion, her arms straining, her body trembling, and you grip her ass hard enough to mark her fair skin with fingerprints.

You hold her in place and you cum. Your dick spasms within her, filling her with hot liquid. You groan loudly as your hips buck wildly beneath her, spilling deep inside. The pleasure surges through every fibre of your being. When you're finally spent, you collapse back onto the bed. You're completely drained. Exhausted. You lie there, staring at the ceiling, your chest heaving, trying desperately to catch your breath.

Yuna is quick to join you, "That was so hot," she pants.

She doesn't say much else, catching her breath. While you're lost in the stars you're seeing, she rolls onto her side and brushes a stray hair from your face. It's affectionate and cute. Soft. Her dark eyes search yours and a playful smile appears on her lips. She reaches out to touch your cheek, tracing its curves before moving to stroke your chin.

"I meant it. I don't care if you still choose Heejin," she murmurs, the satisfaction evident in her voice. Her touch is light, tickling and tingling on your skin, like she's admiring a fine piece of art.

-

The question inevitably comes, with casual ease, the coffee mug halfway to your lips(where it pauses while you ponder). You take a sip, then place the cup down. A look into his eyes, and you give a simple answer.

"Good choice," he nods, offering no sincerity. Just a solemn acknowledgement. "Will be a nice ceremony. You should wear something smart." There's that nod again, dismissive. He puts his reading glasses on and peers back at his documents. More scribbles. As if the whole thing was nothing.

[divinesolas]

Plagued by you

r.q: requesting this please, alicent's daughter x jacaerys… and an angry confession.. "I burn for you." type ❤️😭 like he wants to her to come with him and be team black.

c.w: Otto doesn't go to Dragonstone you do; alicents daughter!reader, minor angst, dialogue heavy, reader “hates” jacaerys, hints of rhaelicent, not proofread

w.c: 1.6k (finally a shorter jace fic…)

a.n: anthony bridgerton ass confession lmaoo, hope you all enjoy :3

part two part three

You were currently pacing back and forth in the room rhaenyra allowed you to stay in on Dragonstone. You had come to see her, to ask her to declare for Aegon. She had obviously argued back and forth with you, up until nightfall where she said she would retreat for the night and the two of you could finish this tomorrow in the morning before you flew back in the morning. You argued that you would leave right then but only to find out that it had begun to storm so heavily. Realizing you would not be able to travel anywhere in this weather you reluctantly agreed and here you were.

In truth you did not want to come here. You had begged your mother to send someone else to anyone else but she was instant it be you. 

“Mother, why not send grandsire? He will be a much better negotiator than me.” she fiddles with your cloak, a far away look on her face before she moves to cup your face.

“Rhaenyra certainly likes you more than she likes him. She will treat you kindly.”

“She will say no mother you know this.” 

She lets out a trembled sigh and grips your face tightly in her hands and presses her forehead against yours “If not for his sake you must try, for me. For my sake I do not wish for this to go to. To see her harmed.” 

You've always known your mother has a very complicated relationship with rhaenyra if you can even call it that. She hated her, or at least that's what it seemed to be. 

She turns and grabs your bag before giving you a knowing look. 

“And I know you also have some unresolved things, do not deny it. I can recognize that look on your face. You must let these things go. Lest you end up like me.” 

You feel sick at the idea of Him. You hate jacaerys velaryon. Him and his stupid pride, his stupid face. His stupid everything. You have never hated anyone the way you hate him. You never understood how much a person could hate someone seemingly as much as your mother seemed to hate rhaenyra. The way she seemed to be all she could talk and even think about, going on endless rants to the point you felt you knew more about rhaenyra than your own mother. Until you met him. Now though you understood her completely, when you were no more than six jacaerys became the target of your anger.

Due to his torment of your twin brother aemond you quickly began to hate him. You would spend all your free time thinking of him and how to get back at him. The two of you always bickered and argued, when you would look over at him he was always already glaring at you. 

You were more than relieved he and his family were leaving after the incident at driftmark, but there was a part of you that when your days dragged on you began to miss him. Tormenting him of course there was no way you actually wished to spend time with him, there was no way…. Definitely not.

You haven't seen him during your time here. You would think he would be in the room where you were negotiating but he was nowhere to be seen. You did not want to ask about him, though the question has been on the tip of your tongue.

Suddenly there was some aggressive knocking on your door and you froze, turning towards it holding your breath. “Who is it?” there's no answer but you know exactly who it is and hesitant for a moment contemplating if you should even let him in. You end up swiftly making your way towards the door and opening it just a bit, planning on telling him to just go away but before you can say anything he's pushing his way into the room storming past you with an angry look on his way. You lean against the door to support yourself as you feel lightheaded just looking at him. 

“You are an absolutely ridiculous woman.” you do not speak, unable to, only able to watch as he runs his hand through his curls and paces in the room just as you had been. “Do you only wish to torment me?”

“I am here for my brother-” “You should not have come.” there's a venom in his voice and he does not even look at you. You find yourself growing more annoyed at him. “I do not care what you think. I would be gone by now if your mother had not been so stubborn-” he turns to look at you and makes his way to stand right in front of you, barely any space between the two of you. “Jacaerys…” “you do not want your brother to sit the throne.” it was true, as much as you tolerated your brother, the thought of him sitting on the throne disgusted you. He would not be a good king, “you know not of what i believe.” “I know this is true, you shouldn't lie to me.” 

“You act as if you know me.”

He scoffs, turning his head away from you for a moment before looking you dead in the eyes, so close you can feel his breath on your face. “I don't know you? I know that you hate the summer because you get too hot in your long dresses, i know you love whenever the chefs make cake and you would sneak into the kitchen to grab a slice, i know you despise your mothers perfume because it hurts your nose but you could never tell her such a thing because it brings her comfort,” he pauses for a moment moving somehow even closer to you, pressing his forehead against yours and closing his eyes, “i know when you are lying you scrunch up your nose,” he moves his head to your neck and takes a deep breath of your scent before lifting his head back up and his forehead is against yours once more. “And worst of all I know you desire me as I do you.” 

You shake your head as you suppress a whimper from your neck, “no,,,” “you will not deny it. You will not deny something I know to be true with every bone in my body with every drop of blood in my body.”  

With a long silence between you, neither of you saying a word he pushes away from you and goes back to standing where he was, that angry look back on his face. “You must go.” you look outside and notice that the storm has since stopped, your brain is currently running a mile a minute barely able to think. “I shall head back to the keep-” “that is not far enough!” 

He grips his head in frustration as he begins to pace once more, “you could travel to dorne, to essos to bravos and it would not be far enough to free me from this torment you have put me through, For the thoughts of you that plague my mind to cease to exist. Even after I pass I am sure when I am faded to nothing but bones and ashes the picture of you will be laced where my heart should be.” 

He quickly moves back over to you and cups your face once more bringing himself so explicitly close to you he should be kissing you. The way you two are pressed against each other is more intimate than a kiss, more romantic than any confession. You lose yourself in the heat of the moment, unable to control yourself for a while. You want to kiss him, you want him to kiss you. Before you regain the small sense of control you have to push him away from you shaking your head. “I must go home, my mother-” “Stay here. Stay with me.” He stares into you a way nobody else ever has, like he's truly trying to see you and not the facade you put on for everyone else. “My mind, body and soul yearns and burns for you uncontrollably and now that you stand in front of me I cannot take it.” He takes your hand and presses it against his heart where you can feel it being erratically as yours was as well. “Tell me you do not want me and I shall turn my back and allow you to leave. But do not beg me to watch you as I fear my heart cannot take it.” 

He takes another step closer to you and does not break eye contact with you. “Tell me you do not desire me and tell me at once my love, my heart please you must.” 

You shake your head as tears begin to form in your eyes, “I cannot.” “then stay.” you angle your head and kiss him, praying that through your actions he can too understand that you indeed burn for him the way he burns for you. You decide in the moment to say fuck it. Fuck your mother, fuck your brother, fuck the crown and screw everyone and everything else that is not him because you hate him so much that he has fully consumed every part of you like a parasite. Yet you have done the same to him. 

[adelheidvonschicksal]

Nsfw scenarios/hcs for the LADS boys with their MC in ABO!AU (Idl if I wrote this right 😅) please? Like how they marked their mates, how they treated their mates during the rut and heat, etc.

+ Omegaverse, sexual content, alpha boys/omega reader, female reader

General

9/10 possessiveness level

Xavier is the most possessive of the main boys and gets jealous the easiest. He may seem calm about other alphas standing a little too close or talking a little too long to his mate, but the tension in the air is thick and unpleasant. There's a specific eery calmness to his face and falsely polite tone to his voice when he happens to cut into the conversation. He always wants to know the topic of conversation when you talk to anyone who has his suspicion. Xavier suddenly gets a little needier than usual, always trying to figure out a way to draw your attention back to himself. Or, purposely sliding an arm around your waist and holding you close in a silent hint that whoever is talking to you should back off, or he will drop his head against your shoulder, saying he’s tired, and asking you to hurry up so you can go home together,  he emphasizes. His last resort isn't pretty. 

While calm, he has a little of a competitive streak with others, whether that means scoring higher in your hunter team battles or building the largest snowman together. He is competitive for your attention against those he thinks are interested in you; and when he has you alone, he insists on scenting you or mating you. You better be prepared to hide large bite marks or hickeys by the time he’s done claiming you.

Protective Level: 6/10

Xavier has no problem with you running about your daily life. He has confidence that you’re strong and don’t necessarily need much protection. He only insists on coming with for two things: (one) if he’s jealous of the person you’re meeting or (two) if you’re going somewhere to fight on your own.

As long as he’s around, he’s confident that things will work out fine. However, he gets extremely protective when you’re hurt, asking for you to stay behind him, rushing ahead to be the vanguard, and trying to take on the brunt of everything himself. And if you get hurt being rash, prepare for him to be upset with you and insist that you allow him to protect you more.

Scenting

Scent: Fresh Linen

Xavier smells good, but there isn’t something to pinpoint about his scent that is unique to him. Simply put, he smells clean, like freshly dried laundry with a touch of lavender.

Xavier loves covering you in his scent, cuddling and sleeping with you until you’re no longer entirely sure what your scent smells like not mixed with his. He scents your things, like your plushies, before you even need to ask. 

He likes to tease you, asking if you want him to scent his hoodies even more since you take them so much, and he’s always happy to oblige. His first instinct to calm you down consists of three options: scenting, cuddles, and food, in that order.

Mating

Xavier already likes to mate with his partner a lot, like a constant rut minus the attitude that comes with it; always wrapping his arms around you, nudging the back of your neck, and lightly coercing the situation to where he wants it to end up whenever the opportunity shows itself.

In a rut, he’s twice as easy to rile up and much more direct about wanting to be alone with you, wanting to hold you and shove his head into the divot of your neck, and audibly inhaling your scent. You can already feel him against you in more ways than one.

He doesn’t waste his time trying to play games with you during this time, choosing to show you exactly how much he wants you before taking charge. You’re burnt out by his energy when you’re used to him napping right after a round or two. This time he isn’t letting up, but he promises that he’ll treat you so well, promises that he’ll get you there twice in exchange for letting him have one more time, as if you're aren't already overstimulated with jellied legs.

He asks if you're already tired. He'll let you sleep but can he at least squeeze and kiss you while he uses his hand. He promises to clean his mess if it gets on you. He'll be good, he swears, and he's so puppy eyed that you let him.

When he finally is tired, he’ll fall asleep while inside you. His knot stopped swelling a long time ago, but he enjoys your warmth around him as he nuzzles the back of your head.

Xavier does his best to tend to his mate when they’re in heat. He’ll get warm compresses and try his best to cook for you (most likely failing) and offer to nap with you when you’re in pain. He’ll let you use him how you want as long as it makes you feel better, whether that’s using his hands, mouth, or knotting you.

There’s a small bit of worry from him, with the way he asks,

“Where do you need it?” “Like this?” “Are you sure you only want my fingers? It’s okay to ask for more.” “Open your legs wider. You don’t have to be embarrassed. It's only me." "Next time, I'll let you take care of me, deal?

You’re so cute like this, needing and wanting him, but he hates how it causes you pain.

General

3/10 possessiveness level

Rafayel tends to have confidence that he can have you before anyone else, trusting your judgment to take care of yourself. He also has pretty high esteem of himself when it comes to the social world. A few properly chosen words is usually enough to get any seducer to back off. Rafayel can’t believe someone else could possibly think they’d have a chance with you when you have him.

As repentance, he wants you to do things for him after little incidents like that. It’s so exhausting chasing lesser alphas off, after all. Whether he’s serious or not when he says he could use some affection after his omega so cruelly ignored him for another alpha remains to be determined.

If there ever is a time where he feels insecure or jealous, he isn’t above trying to cut off someone’s relationship with you. If it comes to threats so be it, but it will end. It doesn’t matter if it’s from your side or the pursuer. It’s an ultimatum, either him or the other person, but not both.

He has a bigger concern about you not needing or growing bored of him than falling in love with someone else. Otherwise, he tends to have faith in you.

Protectiveness Level: 8/10

Rafayel knows you’re strong. Trust him—a twisted arm and playfights abound—he knows. But you are also bulledheaded and naïve. He worries you might end up getting yourself injured; or worse, killed.

So, he’s observant as always, watching for any suspicious activities with the people you’re around, whether warranted or not. He wouldn’t just do that for anyone, only for his precious mate and also for his precious peace of mind. He tends to operate from the background to not be too overbearing, but he doesn’t mind being the one to step in—to get hurt—if it means keeping you safe.

Scenting

Scent: Beach Sand with a Hint of Citrus

Rafayel smells of white beach sand and tropical fruit. He smells like the first hint of salt air and the ocean breeze and mineral. It reminds you of family vacations and old memories. He insists most Lemurians have scents like these, but his is special! It's the only one that mixes so lovely with yours.

He does scent you when you ask, but he requests that you do the same. It’d be much better for you to scent each other. He loves to tease you when you ask him to scent things for you.

“If you like it so much maybe I should make it into a perfume.” But he’d hate it if you actually agree. “Wait, let’s not be too hasty. A perfume really can’t compete with the natural source.”

Mating

Rafayel dislikes his mating cycle only because he dislikes losing his sense of control over himself. But when you’re there, with your scent clouding his mind, it’s all bets off. He’s so needy and HAS to have you. He feels like he’ll die if he isn’t burying himself in your scent, your presence, in you. He needs to feel your hands on him and isn’t below demeaning himself or being more forceful than usual to get it.

He’ll constantly seek you out, calling you late at night. He has nothing to say. He just needed to hear your voice, just keep breathing for him, he’s almost there. He needs you to come over to his place right now. It’s all your fault he’s burning like this. You need to get there immediately and take responsibility before he goes insane. He's already dizzy and his hand isn’t cutting it anymore.

In person, he grabs your hand, and the look in his eyes is begging in place of his mouth that’s too heavy with pants to talk straight as he savors your touch, desperate and gluttonous. 

“Right there...don't make me beg…just a little bit longer.” “I need to feel you. There. You feel incredible.” “If you want my knot, you can have it. Say you want it for me, and I’ll give it to you. Say it.”

When it’s your turn to go manic, he’s going to have his revenge for all the bullying and petting you did while he was rutting. He’s going to coo and fawn over how much you need him, and make you ask him nicely for his touch, but he’ll always give in to his little mate. He knows what’ll make you feel good, and he’s going to give it to you in due time. He thinks you look so pretty when you’re about to cum, covered in sweat, body tensing, the shallow, quick breaths.

“I wish I could paint you like this, but I don’t want to look away.” “Do you really want me to breed you that bad? Don’t say you didn’t ask for it.”

Rafayel is going to make sure you have an easy time, clearing out your schedule for you and letting you stay in the studio with him. Thomas' calls are going to go unanswered for a while.

General

6/10 possessiveness level

Zayne is able to get jealous; however, he isn’t one to distrust you. It’s other people he doesn’t trust. He’ll drop hints he doesn’t like something you’re doing, a sarcastic jab here, a polite warning there, and even a “you should be careful of the company you keep.”. He always introduces himself as your mate to ensure there are no misconceptions about your relationship with him.

Zayne occasionally has to remind you that he’s your partner especially when you insist on teasing him and being a brat, poking at that jealous side of his to rile him up. It doesn’t take long for you to get the idea after having him between your legs. It’s really more of a funny thing, seeing him possessive, because he becomes a lot more short-tempered but absolutely refuses to admit he’s being possessive.

However, he calms relatively easy with some reassurance, and he doesn’t care as much if someone likes you after he knows you have zero interest in them. It’s more of an annoyance than something for him to fear.

Protectiveness Level: 10/10

Zayne is always so worried about you. He always has to tell you to be careful, to watch where you’re stepping so you don’t trip, to not drink too much without him there to take you home, and to watch for injuries. It might be a bit of his doctor attitude coming out, but it’s so much worse when it comes to you. You know no one else who adds the weather of the city you’re in to confirm you’re okay.

He’s also protective of your mental wellbeing; he tends to be the rock you rely on. If someone is bothering you, you can tell him, and he’ll be sure to handle the issue immediately.

Scenting

Scent: Bamboo Forest

Zayne smells like bamboo forests, a mix of floral and earthy. It kind of reminds you of him, calm and quiet but strong and solid like the earth. Fresh, green, and slightly woody. It smells like nature.

He scents you when you ask, and he quietly scents you when he wants, always overthinking if it’s something you want him to do or appropriate at a given point in time. It doesn’t take long for him to become better at knowing when you want it, when to leave something with his scent for you when you’re upset, and when to simply cradle you against him. His mood improves exponentially whenever you shove your face into his chest and mumble about how good he smells.

Zayne loves the way you smell. It’s a familiar and comforting thing to have your scent greeting him after a hard day at work. It lets him know you’re doing okay, and he gets worried whenever your scent is off. He can usually tell the slightest changes of your mood, and it makes him agitated whenever you try to pretend you’re fine when he can clearly tell different from smell alone.

Mating

Zayne tries his best to control himself and avoid you during his ruts. The last thing he wants to do is hurt you, which leads him to being too restrained whenever he’s with you to the point where you can tell he’s not handling himself well.

It’s going to take a few times to convince him that you can handle it, that he can let go and give you everything before he finally allows himself to dive into his hormones, throw you against the bed, and kiss you hard. It's almost like a completely different side of him. Sure, he could always be dominant in the bedroom but there was always a control to it. Instead, he's instinctive, running off the rush of endorphins to reach the peak he desperately wants to tumble over, harsh and tunnel visioned as he chases the sensation of you clamping down around his knot.

“Hold it there, we’re almost there. You can handle it.” “Let me have you a few more times. Then, you can rest.” “Good girl. You’re doing so well. So good to me.”

During your time, he is meticulous. Zayne knows you almost as well as you know yourself, knows what sweets you like to eat, what positions make you the most comfortable, and tips on how to keep yourself together.

That only works so long, however, and soon he takes a more hands on approach in helping you through your heat cycle. His fingers curled up inside you, pushing that sweet springy spot inside you that has your juices pouring over his palm. He shushes you as you beg for him to give you more and more, to please stop this edging and fuck you already.

He promises he’ll make it good, but he has to slowly work you up first, so you won’t get overstimulated. Then, he’ll give you what you want until you pass out.

“Hold still, or do you want me to stop?” “Does it feel that good? I’ll be sure to remember that for next time.” “See what happens when you follow directions?” “You’ll have your reward soon. Which do you prefer to have—my fingers or my knot?”

Zayne also takes special care of you no matter the situation, making sure to wipe you off and hold a warm rag to your swollen and puffy cunt as he makes out with you. He scents you heavily afterward and lets you fall asleep against him until it all starts over again.

[cutielando]

Okay I have a request. Lando with his long time girlfriend and when Oscar joins the team they warn him to stay away from Lando’s drivers room after a race because him and reader love to ‘celebrate’ no matter the result of the race. And Oscar finds out the hard way. But McLaren are like use to it. 🤭🧡

Please and thank you.

poor oscar | l.n.

my masterlist

In all fairness, Oscar had been well warned about Lando and his girlfriend’s antics post-races. Given that the walls in the motorhome were very thin, as Oscar had stated previously, the team felt like they should let Oscar know what he was in for.

He hadn’t quite taken to heart what he had been told. He had been thinking to himself, how bad can it actually be? And oh boy, it was bad.

You and Lando had made a pact from the beginning of your relationship and when you started coming to all of his races that you would do something to celebrate his every race outcome, no matter how good or bad. You vowed to see every race as something positive and take something from each one.

The McLaren team had become accustomed to your shenanigans, knowing not to go anywhere near Lando’s driver room in the hours after the race. They had come to learn to stay away the hard way, if you know what I mean.

And yet, Oscar chose to ignore them. Why? He didn’t even know.

Maybe it was just pure curiosity, maybe it was ignorance, one could only make suppositions. 

If he had managed not to hear anything that even remotely resembled the warnings he had been given up until that moment, he was in for a treat this time.

You had attended the Miami GP with Lando, catching a break from your studies and having promised him that he wouldn’t have to go to a race alone after failing to attend Japan. And imagine the joy you had felt once Lando had taken the checkered flag in P1. Scratch that, imagine what was going through your mind about the celebrations you were about to have with Lando as soon as he came back to the motorhome ;).

Your boyfriend had been thinking the exact same way, trying to make his way back to the hospitality as soon as he possibly could, but still politely stopping for interviews and photos or autographs.

But once he finally reached his room and saw you waiting for him, dressed only in your underwear, he knew he was in for an enormous treat.

Oscar hadn’t heard Lando get back. He had been so deep into thought and so focused on the music he had been listening to with headphones on that he hadn’t heard the door opening, the squeals that you let out once Lando had practically pounced on you as soon as he locked the door. 

However, he was pulled out of his thoughts when he started hearing bangs, moans and dirty talking through his wall. At first he had thought he was hearing things. There was no way you were actually celebrating that loudly, right?

Wrong.

When he turned off the music and took off his headphones, he realized just how fucking loud you guys were being.

He didn’t even know how to react. What was he even supposed to do? Was he just supposed to leave his room and find somewhere else to hang out until you guys were done? Should he knock on your door and ask you guys to keep it down? No, Lando deserved the win and winding down whatever way he saw fit.

Sighing, he felt himself growing redder once the sounds on the other side of the wall only intensified. He couldn’t just stand around and listen to his teammate probably getting the fuck of his life after his maiden win, so he figured he would just get something to eat and hang out with either Mark or Logan.

The moment a member of the PR team, David, had seen him coming from his room, his cheeks a heavy crimson and refusing to make eye contact with anyone, he realized Oscar had just been the victim of Y/N and Lando.

“You heard them, didn’t you?” David asked him, an amused smile stretching on his face.

Oscar blushed even heavier, if that was even possible. Shyly, he nodded, making David laugh and pat him on the back.

“I didn’t think they were actually that bad” Oscar said, playing with his fingers as his ears could still pick up the noises he had done his best to avoid.

“We tried telling you, you didn’t want to believe us” David chuckled, patting him on the back again as he departed.

When you and Lando finally emerged from his room almost an hour later, the both of you laughed when you noticed how Oscar was avoiding eye contact with the both of you.

Poor Oscar…

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⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Bad Blood

♥ masterlist | request rules | based on this request

♥ pairing: franco colapinto x fem!driver!reader

♥ synopsis: tensions started rising in the williams garage when bad strategies pitted you and your teammate, franco against each other. after spotting him in a bar the night of a race the two of you bonded over your shared bad result. 

♥ one-shot - wc: 1.6k

♥ as always none of the pictures are mine <3

♥ warnings: swearing, drinking, and vaguely suggestive !!!

♥ a/n: rivals to lovers + forced proximity, go nuts babe. btw there’s some salty team vibes so i just wanna say i love williams (except james) this is purely for the plot lol

“Plan B, Y/n. Plan B,” you engineer said on the radio of your car.

”Is Franco undercutting me?” you asked, shifting down into a corner.

“We think this is the best decision point-wise.”

“You’re joking.”

“Y/n stick to the strategy, you’ll get your time eventually.” they responded.

“No this is bullshit. What advantage are you giving him? He can’t chase down Kmag any better than I can—at least he doesn’t have the pace right now. I don’t see why you’re making him the priority.”

You reached the end of the main straight watching as your teammate exited the pit lane in front of you.

He was on hard tires, an extremely odd choice for the end of this race. You were trying to complete the last 20 laps on softs while your teammate tried to make up positions on the opposite compound. Wait why the fuck would they put him on those tires? If they were aiming for an undercut, they were certainly going to fail with this strategy. 

You dove down into the apex and collided with Franco, who was turning in front of you. You both spun out into the gravel, ending your race. 

It was always like this. Somehow you always found yourself competing against Franco no matter where you went. 

“Fuck,” you yelled on the radio as you threw your HANS device outside of the car. 

“Are you okay?” your engineer questioned.

“Yup, yeah I’m fine.” you responded. 

The Williams team could hear faint breathing from Franco. 

“Is she ok?” he asked. 

“Yes, are you?”

“Yeah, I am.”

-

You scrolled through your phone in your driver's room, coming across a couple of posts about the situation.

@fcswife “is she okay?” FRANCO THE MAN THAT YOU ARE 😭❤️

@charlesgf16 she really has zero respect for franco huh?

@francodefender1 how could anyone hate him? 😩

You rolled your eyes and clicked off the device, throwing it onto a different cushion on the couch. You were going to need a drink. 

-

Later that night you retreated to a bar you were unfamiliar with. A couple of F2 drivers in your circle mentioned it in passing and considering you couldn't fluently speak the language of the country you were visiting, you hoped to run into a few people you knew.

The room was dark, loud, and packed. You could hear music playing over the sound of dozens of drunk voices. You pushed your way through the crowd of people towards the front of the bar in order to get a drink.

You spotted a familiar face when you arrived. To your dismay it was the only person you wished not to talk to at that moment. His brown curls were immediately identifiable and if that wasn't enough, the fluorescent lighting illuminated his face, drawing your eyes towards the small mole on his cheek.

You looked around for a place to avoid him, but all the booths were taken and the only open bar stool was the one next to Franco.

Because of course it was.

You sighed and took the seat next to him, trying your hardest to avoid eye contact.

"A bottle of Dom Perignon please," you asked, causing Franco to snort.

“What?” you shifted your gaze towards him.

“Champagne is for winners,” he said, looking you straight in the eye.

It wasn’t like he was incorrect. Champagne was for the podium—but you had a long day and it was time to treat yourself. Regardless, you rolled your eyes at the man’s comment.

Franco waved over the bartender to get a glass and help himself to the bottle of alcohol.

“You can venmo me,” you said only half joking as he poured himself some champagne.

A small tv in the corner of the bar had a replay of the race and press.

”There were a lot of emotions definitely, uhm I think the decisions tire wise for the strategy weren’t great. It’s frustrating to see the prioritization of your teammate but I guess I have no input on whether that goes to me or Franco each race. We had a rough week overall as a team but I hope we can bounce back.”

“As much as I hate to agree with you… you were right. Both our strategies were fucked.” he said referencing your post race interview, “They screwed us both.”

The two of you never really got along, but at least neither blamed each other for the crash. It was just a racing incident and it didn’t have to prevent you from finally having a civil conversation with Franco.

“To screwing us both,” you smiled while raising your glass of champagne, eliciting a chuckle out of him.  

He clinked his cup to yours with a smirk and took a small sip. 

From that point on your distaste for him slowly started to die down and you began to have a mutual understanding.

-

The next race went over far smoother than the last. Franco ended up in P5 with you right behind him in P6; an incredible result for the two of you and the team.

You jumped out of your car and strolled your way over to his. The camera picked up on you patting his helmet and mumbling something.

Of course this was going to be all your media feed would show for the next few days.

-

That night you found yourself at a far more tame pub than the last.

“From the gentleman across the bar,” a server said, causing you to look up from your phone and towards the direction he was pointing. 

Franco was leaning against the counter with a grin. He raised his eyebrows quickly and waved.

You took a sip of the cold blue drink in front of you and waved back. His eyes stayed locked on you as you pulled out your phone and unblocked a number.

You 

is there red bull in this? 

+1800******

yea 

You got a text back immediately, prompting you to change the contact name. 

You

i think that’s a sin

Franco

oh?

You

yea if i can’t drive it i shouldn’t be drinking it  

Franco

i guess it’s too bad williams doesn’t make energy drinks

You

come sit with me

-

Tensions were still high on track between the two of you but the minute race weekend was over it was like someone flipped a switch.

A few weeks flew by and people started to notice your behavior towards Franco. By now there were probably dozens of pictures of you looking very cozy together at parties, but not getting along at the circuits or simply ignoring each other in the paddock.

Of course people were getting suspicious. Maybe this was a ruse to keep your relationship a secret? Maybe it was all staged for Netflix. Or maybe—you two didn’t really know what you were.

-

“Che,” a voice called out to you in spanish, instantly grabbing your attention.

You spotted Franco in a booth at the back of the club. It was far darker in that corner, but with the flashing lights and loud music you were glad he picked a more secluded area.

The building was full with the familiar faces of drivers and team members.

”Look at you,” he said, impressed.

You laughed and did a small spin, showing off your dress. You knew he’d liked it and by the memory you had earlier this evening, it seemed as though a lot of people would.

”Another date with Franco, huh?” Kika smirked while putting on some dangly earrings. “It’s not a date,” you protested. She spun her body around to face you. “This,” she gestured to your outfit. “Is for a date.”

You slid into the booth next to him, setting your black clutch purse beside you.

Franco’s hand firmly grabbed your thigh to steady himself as he shifted closer towards you. Your eyes darted down to the action but he didn’t seem to notice. His grip loosened as he settled and he started rubbing small circles with the pad of his thumb.

A small hum escaped your lips, barely audible over the music and voices, but there was no way in hell your soft noises wouldn’t catch his attention.

”¿Esto está bien?” (is this ok?) he asked in a whisper, causing you to only nod.

His face moved closer to yours, and you wasted no time cupping his cheeks in your hands, and connecting your lips.

You melted into the kiss knowing damn well you daydreamed about this an embarrassing amount.

His tongue swiped over your bottom lip, tasting the gloss you applied earlier. You opened your mouth to allow him entrance and he dragged his fingertips further up the inside of your thigh.

Franco moved down to your neck leaving soft, open-mouthed kisses. His index and middle fingers brushed the lace of your lingerie, causing him to smirk against you.

“Stand up,” he demanded. He slipped out of the booth and pulled you onto your feet. You grabbed your clutch as he guided you through the crowd, hand-in-hand.

He opened the chiming door and the two of you stepped onto the wet cobblestone. Your heels clicked on the ground as he guided you to his car in the rain.

He pulled open the passenger seat door for you.

“Wow, we weren’t even in there a couple of minutes,” you stated.

“I think we’ve had enough time to talk… quiero llevarte a casa…” (i want to take you home) he leaned down and mumbled to you.

“O en este caso mi hotel,” (or in this case my hotel) “unless you’d rather go back inside..” he trailed off.

You shook your head in protest to his last works and a light chuckle slipped through his lips.

”Alright then,” he smirked, getting into the drivers seat.

[evilminji]

O.O!!! :Dc wait a second.... Aquaman >.>

Good JOB Brain! That IS a good idea!

Don't know if YOU GUYS all know this? But Arthur? Son of a Lighthouse keeper and the Queen of Atlantis? THAT Arthur Curry aka. Orin? Has CONSIDERABLY enhanced durability. Like... *hit by a car* "ha. Cute." Enhanced.

It's because of the DEEP Sea water pressure he's built for.

I bring this up? Because the man is a legit BAMF. Absolutely TERRIFYING near any body of water. Dude has SUPER STRENGTH AND HYDROKINESIS. Not ONLY are YOU filled with water, but every street corner in the world has pipes! He is NEVER not armed.

That's not including the "yes I can ask a lobster to take your dick off" thing.

But most of all? He has the RAGE. The lifetime of injustice after injustice. His home under attack, his people suffering and regarded as LESS. The poison dumped into their air. Their lands taken, PRESUMED the property of land dwellers.

Treated as criminals and monsters should they DARE defend themselves.

Yet? He is a leader. A husband, father, mentor. The death of his child can not take from him that title. Nor years numb that pain. He strives to be good. Be wise. Live well.

Yet? There is once AGAIN fuckery in his ocean. Some "secret" lab. Poking at a swirling green portal. At the BOTTOM OF THE SEA. For God's sake, they DO REALIZE, you can't HIDE things from him down here, RIGHT?

It looks radioactive.

He refuses to have that so close to Atlantis.

Sends a notice up to the Watchtower, a call back to his Wife, and leads the gaurd team in. Painfully easy, really. Bog standard humans, caught off gaurd. Right until one of them does something... stupid.

He tries to blow the place. Destroy evidence. It would kill all of them. Which is not Arthur's main concern. No, what IS? Is that it would dump radioactive SOMETHING into the waters near Atlantis.

He dives forward. They struggle. A button is smashed and...

Their containment field drops.

They had been keeping it in a perfect vacuum.

Arthur is sucked in.

Watches, in free fall, as his men's faces turn to horror. As they desperately dive to follow him. Loyal. True. But ultimately too late. He curses himself as he loses sit of them. But forces himself to focus, twist, get his feet under him. His is in air, above LAND.

He hits HARD.

But not the ground like he had planned.

He's slamed, at an awkward, frantic, angle and knocked off course. His weight crashing down onto a scrawny slip of a boy, who weezes and struggles to get a proper grip. His arms not quite long enough to go all the way around his barrel of a chest.

He helps, by slinging an arm over his young savior.

Only then, does he notice, the tiny crown of ice and nebula, poking at a jaunty angle from the child's head.

Their landing would be rough, had Arthur not caught them, once he gets close enough to the ground. The young royal gasping for air, having clearly pushed his limits to get to Arthur in time. He hauls himself up. Not yet a man, but not as young as Arthur feared. His eyes glow.

"Hoooly SHIT. Are you okay?! I hit you really hard! I'm so, SO sorry! I panicked! And-"

Honestly? A little bruised. But nothings he's going to ADMIT too.

More concerning? The injuries.

There's a screech of tires turning sharp corners. Sirens getting closer. The young king whips around. Terror seeping onto his face. It gives Arthur an unobstructed view of pointed ears, softly glowing skin with star like freckles, and scars that creep up the child's neck. He does not like the picture being painted.

"We have to GO. Now. Please, I'll explain in a moment! But we have to go NOW!"

Really, REALLY does not like the picture. And he has WAYS of dealing with such things as this. But safety first. Prioritize the children. They go. He vows to get answers. And all around Amity? Certain individuals days are NUMBERED.

@babbling-babull @hdgnj @the-witchhunter @hypewinter @mutable-manifestation @lolottes @nerdpoe