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futureplayboibunnie · 1 year

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Aphrodesiacs Pt.8

Miguel O’Hara x fem! spidey! reader

You and Miguel O’Hara were bitten by the same spider…what could possibly happen?

*sigh* let me just feed my starving children. consider this my girl dinner to you all. fully feeding u this time. the day has finally come (in more ways than one)

NSFW AS ALWAYS (but pls extra caution on this one, i got carried away and i don’t want to spoil the surprise) 18+

also i was gonna finish this series at 10 chapters but pls lmk if u want more!

It was far too late to function. You were pulling on many mental threads as you sprawled out on your bed.Sighing into the empty, overly spacious air of your room didn't alleviate anything, you were still wearing Miguel's shirt.

The streetlights dimmed into your room, the warm glow offering nothing to help fix this crack that resided in you. Tossing and turning wasn't helping, your limbs fluctuating from rigid to limp whenever you thought about Miguel. Your sheets were hurled to the floor and your half-naked form contorted at every angle on the bed, nothing was comfortable and you couldn't sleep. Your mind buzzed awake from the lightning shooting down your thighs whenever you inhaled, his shirt was so big on you but it smelled so good, and the fact that he let you just have it.

It smelled like him, his cologne, his natural ambiance, his musk. You rubbed your naked thighs together.

You couldn't help but sigh breathlessly and throw your head back into the pillow, whining at how stimulated you were just by inhaling. For fucks sake. Since when were you this pathetic? You almost wanted to bite into your pillow out of sheer aggression. Today was a cluster fuck of emotions, your lips still felt the tingle of him, your tongue was against his enough that you could still feel him exploring when he wasn't even there. It was like a ghostly touch, tracing against the most sensitive parts of your body. You still couldn't believe that he had finally kissed you, he had finally given in to such a disastrous impulse that he so constantly warned you about. Your pussy fluttered at the fact you affected him enough to go against everything he believed in, that you meant that much to him. The pulse under your heated skin sent your body into an unshakable overdrive.

Miguel tasted like testosterone, anger, and sex. The way you were just pressed against him had slick forming between your thighs. You were so ready for him. You've always been ready for him. The way he gave you a tiny fraction of what he was going to do- what he was prepared to do...well before Peter had to cockblock you into oblivion. He was going to fuck you on the sink like an animal. Hot and Heavy. But then Miguel had to go back into his old ways.

Your throat was raw, and constantly groaning in frustration was a default setting at this point but it was getting worse and worse. You draped your forearm over your eyes, involuntarily arching your back against the mattress and spreading your legs as your stomach lurched. Your pussy would drown in his cum. That seemed to be the last straw. The canines of your teeth dug into your bottom lip at a depth that pierced the blushed tenderness of your lips, tiny holes turned into splits as blood pooled inside of your mouth and slightly dribbled to the outskirts of your mouth and chin.

“Fuck…” You winced out, more pained by the thought of Miguel leaving you unfulfilled than the pulsating of your lips bitten raw.

Miguel was aimless, ice doused his heated veins as he swung from building to building. He attempted to convince himself that he was in your universe for any other reason he could get, he was particularly good at lying to himself but in this case, it wasn't. The most honest thought he's had in months is knowing that he wants you.

Miguel knew where he needed to be right now. With you. He hated how he left you in the bathroom, part of him wanted to fuck you while anyone watched, just to show them who you belonged to. But he could never do that.

He groaned as he whacked through the air, his fingers smashing against his neck to get rid of the mask. He felt claustrophobic like you were subconsciously taking away his ability to breathe. It left a bitter taste in his mouth. You had steel in your spine and that only fueled the flames of desire that were lit in him long ago. The roaring fire in your eyes every time you laid into him made him hard as ever, no woman has ever been stupid enough to question him- and then there was you. At HQ you were the perfect picture of cool elegance and competence, you weren't as fun-loving as the others and nowadays Miguel felt like he had pulled that out of you. Miguel frowned at the thought. Your presence evoked an unwanted heat in his gut and a leaking cock to go with it, and he didn't even fucking like you, he just had to deal with you. But now, after all this, you were the name he'd call in the middle of the night. His entitled, needy, girl. He couldn't take two steps without Jess or Lyla gushing to him about how lovely you were

It was galling.

Maybe he could marry you. Fuck you full of his kid.

Jesus Christ.

Miguel squashed the thought with a grimace and a shake of his head. With a grunt he landed on the side of your apartment building, using his claws to dig into the brick, subtIty was never his play but in this certain situation, it was completely off the board. He had no idea what he was going to say to you or if he was going to see you at all he just needed to be near you. He wanted to see those eyes darken in pleasure again, if that's all he could get from a kiss, he couldn't even begin to wrap his head around what would happen when he was actually in you. He knew he drew near when the scent of you clouded his brain, he quickly hung from the side of the building until he got to a large window, it was cracked open slightly. Windswept hair made tufts of his hair impair his vision, Miguel peeked his face to get a glance at the window it was your bedroom window.

You were sat on the edge of the bed, sweet face buried in your hands, hair tumbling down your shoulders, contemplating something for a second before standing up.

He could smell how wet you were. Maybe one day he could pour wine all over you, cum on you and then taste it off your sweet body.

He bit the bullet. He raised a pointer finger and tapped his talon on the glass. The moonlight outside kissed your face perfectly, but he did notice some red around your lips- he didn't know what it was.

His mouth dried as his gawk fell to what you were wearing- you were still wearing his shirt. Fuck

You hummed in irritation, thinking your sex-filled mind was making you hear things. Your heart sank at the wave of shock when your gaze accidentally flitted to your window. Then you saw it. Your tongue ground into your jaw, waves of shock reaching every corner of your already fire-tinged body- but now every single cell was about to sizzle into thin air. All this time, it felt like you were both dancing with your hands tied. Your pulse pounded in your ears when you saw him, eyes wide and concerned but ultimately fucking elated. It was like God answered your prayers just this once. You stood up from sitting, a random burst of adrenaline licking at your knuckles, you were practically shaking and Miguel was more than happy with that.

The sight of Miguel's face could make you cream: that black hair, olive skin, taut muscles, and brooding attitude made for complete devastation in a spider suit. You watched like a dumbfounded idiot as Miguel pried the window open and crawled through, he wormed into your room and stood up tall just taking a beat to drink you in.

Damn.

He thought you looked fucking incredible in a bikini, but here you were, standing there with a vacant doe-eyed look wearing nothing but his shirt. He doesn't think he's ever been this aroused just looking at someone.

Miguel raised an eyebrow to see blood on your lips, trailing a little down to your chin as you blinked up at him. He inched closer and raised his hand, his fingers slightly cupping your chin to meet his scorching, worried gaze.

“What happened here?” He asked softly, his breath was warm and honeyed, a stark contrast to the Miguel you've always known. That cool bleak demeanour cracked for a split second.

“You.” Leaning into his touch proved to be easy, you melted into his fingertips, lips parted and eyes needy as the man you've been fantasizing about for so long was touching you again, but it felt more meaningful than the last. Miguel's eyes were the clearest you've ever seen, a tinge of red gleaming against the burgundy of the outer rim. The way you uttered that word sent a shudder spiraling through him, you were both affecting each other so much- that first kiss only fueled the ever-increasing wildfire.

“What are you doing to me…?” Miguel whispered. He was asking himself that question too: what were you doing to him? He's driven himself crazy, utterly mad over this dance of death he called morality and ethics. You were holding your breath, scared that if you gave into the natural urge to breathe, you'd moan out his name.

“You never finished telling me all the things you wanted to do to me.”

“If I told you all of the things I wanted to do to you...we'd be sitting here all weekend talking and then I'll never be able to show you exactly what's been running through my head every hour of every day, the reason why I can’t sleep, why I can’t fuck my fist without thinking of you.” Miguel inched closer and cupped your face with both hands, smoothing out your soft skin, your palms fell onto his hands too.Just touching each other softly. Miguel was still afraid. He was afraid of hurting you, and losing himself, he's already not in control when it comes to you. You sighed out at his vulgar words and you were ready to get on your knees.

You stood in silence, gawking at each other intensely. You scoffed to yourself, teeth clamping onto your bottom lip as the corners of your mouth upturned to a smirk.

“That would be quite inconvenient.”

“Yes, it would carinõ.” Miguel hummed lowly, definitely understanding the effect the pet name had on you. Miguel thought your snarkiness would be the death of him by now but here you are, being so compliant. His thumb toyed with your bottom lip, teasing it into your mouth. Your eyes grew wider as his thumb massaged your tongue For easier access, you just stuck your tongue out, licking and sucking on it every so often. He had dreamed about this day but he never fully thought what it would really be like once he gave in.

Miguel's pretty features were locked in a state of vacant yet concentrated drunken smugness. Anger played at his brows, creasing the olive skin around it, his stare was piercing, looking at you as if you were both a diety that needed to be worshipped and a dirty slut that was begging to be pounded- he sighed at the thought, he was beginning to slowly lean in. Your free hand went to the fangs that he was baring, your fingers prodded at the sharp point, slurring completely drunk off of his presence.

“These are spikey...I love it.”

“This is so wrong.” He muttered against your lips, feeling the explicable sensation of hot and heavy lust sparking between your lip.

“Tell me how wrong it is then.” You nipped at his bottom lip, making his eyes flutter closed.

That was it.

A sickening crunch ripped inside of him.

A chain loose of its hinges.

His muscles coiled inside of him, reaching their apex, and now his restraint was seeping between his fingers until there was nothing left in his hands...except you.

Shock, hope, fear, elation, and uncertainty all mingled together on his face until they were indistinguishable from each other. He blinked for a second and then his eyes mixed both black and red, midnight specks in the violent pool of red. He was angry and so hard. Frustration overrode his guilty conscious. Fury carved harsh lines across Miguel's face, hardening his jaw and turning his cheekbones into slashes of tension by the moonlight. His eyes simmered with a slow-burning desire, the type that snuck up and annihilated him before he knew it.

Miguel had always been intimidating, but at that moment, he looked like the devil himself had left hell to exact his retribution. Arousal leaked out of you at that look. The air sharped with dense tension and desire, enough that it finally yanked him out of his frozen stupor. Time suspended for a brief, agonizing moment, just long enough for your breath to become his.

Miguel yanked your arm away from him and curled it behind your back, your soft gasp making drool form at the back of his throat. His other hand gripped your chin and at that moment he saw thunder in your eyes. “I'd rather fuck you instead.” Uncertainty evaporated from his voice, leaving nothing but satin and smoke in its wake.

His mouth shattered against yours, finding its rightful place in your mouth. Home. You thought his last kiss was good, but this was ferocity at its most unhinged. You had succumbed to the skillful assault on your senses.

Your body was molded to his, all hard muscles under the holographic suit. Your mouth was like a pure shot of heroin- the forbidden fruit that he was restraining himself for was now all his to devour, his to savor. The first kiss was passionate but impulsive. This... was sticky and wet, saliva mingling with saliva, this was primal and addicting. Miguel's worries melted into nothing, for now, he was fucking delighted that your body instinctively curved against his, seeking more contact like a horny virgin. His lips left yours to breathe, a rough calloused breath shot out of his throat, as his mouth fell to your jaw, kissing and sucking so fucking hard, desperate to mark you.

“Miguel…” You moaned out in failed protest, the word rolled like heaven off of your tongue. You were made to moan his name.

“I'm going to wreck this tight cunt..”

“Listen, listen...I'm bad. I'm a bad girl. Now I'm making you bad..” You whispered in his ear, yelping a little when he bit down hard on the skin of your jaw. You felt the indents of his teeth.

“Carinõ...I'm not a good man, you know that.” His eyes wildly found yours again, his face hardening like granite, his steely resolve thrumming in the air around you.

You begged to differ, but you didn't want to think about that right now.

Miguel shoved you on the bed, manhandling you by being completely careless of where you landed.

“Miguel!” You whined like a kicked bitch in heat, it felt so humid in your room, you scrambled to get your- well, his- top off. Miguel stood up straight and gawked at you from the foot of your bed, waiting like a hungry predator. You discarded the shirt so you were completely naked on your bed, shining and glimmering in the pale moonlight, skin as soft as fresh silk. Your chest rose and fell with every rapid breath, Miguel's eyes were clouded in the dark hellfire that is desperation when you spread your legs. You propped yourself up on your elbows, tilting your chin down to glare at him with impossibly sizzling fuck me eyes. Miguel's heartbeat pummeled to the tip of his leaking cock at the sight of you in such an impossibly filthy position- free for him to use, fuck and bite however he pleases. He glanced at your hands and your fingers were ripping up the sheets under you, spotlighting the tension and swirling heat in your cunt. He was like a kid in a candy store, your pussy was leaking, the clear sticky liquid running down your thighs.

“Every time you speak, this is what happens.” Your tone was dead serious and the expression on your face was stony- you were definitely not toying with him now. You were just too eager for that.

Miguel's eye twitched. Without warning, he grabbed your ankles and pulled them to the edge of the bed, you gasped softly when you felt your legs dangle out, Miguel was between your thighs, glaring down at you with a demanding instinct.

“Sit up straight.” He ordered coldly, you felt a new wave of wetness form between your folds at his words.

You did what you were told, eyes piercing against his, challenging each other but it was obvious who had the upper hand.

Oh…the things Miguel could do to you in this position. The things he wanted to do, x-rated scenarios reeled through his head. You blinked up at him with doe eyes, wide and needy. His needy, desperate girl. A hint of a wicked smile played on his lips. Miguel smashed a few buttons on his watch and his holographic suit disintegrated off. Your eyes scanned his golden olive skin, his body was sculpted with such perfection you expected to find Michelagelo's signature embossed on his V-line. Broad shoulders. Muscled chest. A faint dusting of black hair that tapered down to…

Oh fuck.

His cock was staring at you right in the face, jutting out, huge and hard- 11 inches for sure at least. It curved to the side, a thick vein bulging out of the underside, an angry red tip leaking pre-cum. The mere idea sent twin frissons of apprehension and anticipation spiraling down the deepest pit of your stomach. You gawked blankly at his dick, mouth open wide and eyes outspread. It felt like you'd never even seen one before. Well, you had never seen his before.

That fucking face, that gape. He was going to frame it in his office and fuck his fist under the desk staring at it.

There was no way he'd fit. It would be impossible.

“Oh my…God.” You mumbled under your breath

When you finally dragged your gaze back up to his, Miguel's eyes were already laser-focused on you, dark and smoldering with a banked heat that you were sure could crumble you to dust. His hand gripped your cheeks, ensuring that your eyes were on him without hesitation. Miguel smiled crookedly when he spotted the slivers of saliva hanging from your bottom lip, quite literally drooling over his cock absentmindedly. He loved how dumb he’s got you already.

"Aww querida...I always seem to think about my own suffering, yet I neglect yours the most.” His tone had slivers of mockery in it, and tears pricked in your eyes.

“Yes. You do. So just fuck me already.” You scowled, pretty eyebrows tensing and creasing when he planned on stretching out such a momentous occasion. If anything it should be you punishing him for the amount of times he had denied you of the very thing that kept your soul alive.

Hypocritical son of a bitch.

Miguel harshly let go of your face and slapped your cheek with his dick, your face whipped to the side due to the sheer force of such an obscene thing- he definitely caught your attention now, undermining his authority never sat well and it regurgitated back onto you tenfold. You blinked up at him, the surprise hitting you like a brick and making you choke out the breath you forgot you were holding, your cheek heated red as the stickiness smeared slightly. You were about to internally combust, for such vulgarity to feel that good.

"All you do is fucking talk.” Miguel snarled at you gruffly, the force behind it sounded very real.

“I'm prepping you, getting you all wet so you can at least take about half of me.” You wanted to kick him in the face and make his fangs stick into the walls of his gums and snap them. He really thought you wouldn't be able to take him? Well, a few minutes ago you thought it would be quite frankly impossible to take his sheer size but now since he doubted you...you thought otherwise, wildly determined didn't even begin to cover it.

You cocked a condescending eyebrow at his incredibly smug statement. “I'm wet enough! We were practically designed to fuck each o-!“

Miguel cut you off, waiting for the opportunity when your mouth was wide enough to just shove his cock in. And he did just that. He grinned and let out a low rumbling chuckle at your pathetic and dumb demeanor, who knew a woman who viewed herself so highly could end up being so damn bendy for someone else. Your eyes pricked glassy mirrorball tears, he almost saw his own smug reflection in them, that beautiful surprised look on your face needed to be painted and sold for millions. Your mouth was so warm, so wet, bucketfuls of spit spilling on his cock as you sucked, glaring him right in the pupils of his midnight rings. Miguel's lips flipped to a pretty smile as he watched you struggle to take him all. Your tongue was flat on his tip but what was really jarring was the barely there touches you'd flick onto the sensitive slit, causing him to be unable to repress his animalistic grunt. He could've cum right then and there just from how your mouth felt alone, but he had to endure- he couldn't be known for lasting 5 seconds.

“Yes, we were. You're exactly right.” He gritted through his grinding jaw.

This was exactly what you dreamed of, the spark that lit the flames of desire that licked at the very essence of your soul. It just felt so right. He was so thick and he tasted so good, his natural musk clouded your nostrils, and your throat flexed to take him that much more. One more jerk and he was sure he was going to cum.

Woah, easy. Easy.

Miguel's eyes shot open as you hummed around him appreciatively.

He really thought you couldn't do it. You'd show him that he meant jack shit. There was something so heady about the idea of making a man like Miguel fall to your mercy. You could either bring him over the edge or keep him there forever.

You slid him down your throat a little more. He put his fist in your hair to jerk your head around but you scratched and slapped them away earning nothing but a breathless, accusing scoff from him.

“You'll choke.” It was a half-assed warning and a half-assed patronizing joke. A hint of wariness crept into his voice when you finally gripped the base of his cock with two hands. The sensation tinged his nerve endings in heat, saliva escaping the corners of his mouth.

You didn't care, your eyes tangled with his as if you were saying ‘You think I can't? Watch me.’ You slid him all down your throat, hitting the very back of it. You whimpered tasting the salty sweetness before you swirled your tongue from side to side, bobbing your head up and down, suckling softly at first before fucking him hard with your tongue. Jesus Christ, his mind was exploding with static heat- he was trying to conceal his chest from heaving but he couldn't.

Fuck.

This was most definitely the best blowjob he's ever had, you had this twist-and-jerk technique that was truly remarkable. Miguel raised his eyebrow, dumbfounded by your skill but then a wicked smile slashed through that.

What a pretty little slut. His pretty little slut.

“You feel so good. You're...fuck. You're fucking perfect for me...” Miguel moaned drunkenly, unable to control his lips from moving. He's never been this sensitive before, every barely there touch elicited a new wave of pleasure. Pain and pleasure blurred into one at this point. The compliment made you wetter if that was even a possibility.

“I'm gonna...Mierda...g'na...I'm gn'a cum.” He could barely string together a sentence, a coil snapped inside of him, the coil that has been tightening ever since he met you.

Miguel pulled his cock out of your mouth and jerked himself off, cumming on your chest, creating a pearl necklace with his hot salty cum, dripping all down your tits to your stomach. His face creased into a desperate wince as he groaned from the deep chasms of his gut, a rumble as he released all over you. Your gasp was helpless and he wanted to hear that specific sound all night, it turned into his favorite music. This was the most gratifying and fulfilling orgasm he's ever had. He opened his eyes after they screwed shut, peeking through to see the mess he made on his fist and your body...and there you were looking like a sculpture, something akin to a Greek goddess, leaning back slightly, hair touselled and messy, skin glowing. He could finish again at the sight alone. His sex drive was insatiable.

“Still think I'm in need of prepping?” You chided, embarrassingly pleased with yourself at proving him wrong.

You didn't have any time to lose, your mouth was wrapped around him again.

You retracted a hand from the base of his leaking cock and let them slide down your thighs before your nimble fingers edged to your hot cunt. Your index finger found your swollen clit, rubbing it for a single second, feeling a small fraction of delicious pain before his glare caught you red-handed. Miguel's blood reared at the blurry sight, he gripped your hair again with his white hot fist and pulled you off of his cock, drooling-invisible strings of cum and spit connecting you together. He took a moment to admire you at your most beautiful, heated cheeks, swollen pink lips dribbling into a lazy smile

Miguel grew indignant in a matter of nanoseconds.

“No. Don't you dare think about touching. You've done more than enough yourself.” He grunted like a boar. He used your hair like a leash and threw you back flat on the bed, breasts bouncing at the action. You pouted as he crawled on top of you, his heavy weight being a welcome invite to your body, his cock slapped against your stomach and you could feel his skin turn wet due to your drenched mound. “I said don't give me that look.” He said seethingly. The feeling of his skin on yours was making you intensely needy. You wrapped your legs around his waist, locking yourself in your new favorite position: under him.

“Please...Miguel. I need you, I'm desperate for you, I'm tired of waiting for you, I've been ready for you for so long…” A desperate plea ripped away from your throat in a choked sob. Miguel had never seen your eyes emanate such honesty and sincerity, glowing in the pale moonlight- you weren't making a glib or clippy joke about this. It was as honest as you could get.

Miguel's eyes darkened as your words fell on his ears, slurring at your incessant whining. “Mi nina necesitada…” He hummed under his breath. “So cockdrunk already?”

You had been dying to let him roam your body freely, doing whatever he pleased, a breathy moan escaped from your parted lips when his apathetic hand traced the curves of your body, goosebumps strangely patterning your heated skin. Miguel crashed his lips against yours again, his fangs snagging against your mouth and his teeth clinking against yours. It was messy and sloppy, spit against spit, tongue against tongue. His hands palmed your tits, feeling them before his talons pinched and rolled your already-sensitive nipples. Pulling and playing with them, snarling and grinning crookedly against your lips as he swallowed your moans.

“I'm gonna cum..” You breathed softly but Miguel was not having it. “Miguel...if you keep doing that I'm gonna cum.” You warned him but it landed on deaf ears.

"You're gonna cum on my cock.” He corrected you unkindly before chuckling lowly. “My sweet sensitive cunt.”

Before you knew it, Miguel gritted his teeth, you didn't have time to do anything more than gasp before his length slid into you so easily, hitting that spot that made him realize you were right: you were designed to fit each other, designed to fuck each other

“Fuck...Oh my god...” You moaned out loudly.

He filled you up to the hilt with only one thrust. You only had a few seconds to adust before one hand was on your neck and the other gripped your hip and slammed you up and down on his cock, hard, while he drove down inside of you. Each thrust was more brutal than the last, you were getting embarrassed at the whines and moans, and attempting to conceal them with your fist wasn't helpful either. You threw your head back into the mattress, exposing more skin on your neck for his palm to grip.

“Be loud. Let me hear you.” He demanded coolly, his steely resolve shattering just from watching your swollen lips turn into a full-blown gape. You gave in to his instruction and let yourself moan without shame. Miguel manhandled you and threw you about sloppily again and again, harder and faster until your knees buckled.

His fangs ground together, threatening to shatter the pearly whites he was known for as he watched your body contort. Fuck, you looked so beautiful. He saw his cock bulge under the skin of your stomach and it was just another lightning bolt that was the thunderstorm between you two. You whined when he grabbed your knees and pushed them into your chest, smooshing your breasts together, allowing him better access to pump you full.

Miguel knew you were on birth control but he couldn't help but feel disappointed about it. He disguised it as a throwaway thought

“You can't even begin to understand how bad I've wanted you.” Your tongue slipped out, reiterating the same thing as always: your desperation.

“Tell me I'm the best you ever had.” He growled brutally, staring down at you, watching your hair nuzzle into the pillow. Your nails dug crescents into his back, probably enough to draw blood if you angled it another way.

"You're the best I've ever had!” You screamed back, begging to finish. “Please...you're the best I've ever had.” You cried out, eyes welling up with tears, streaking down your warm face making Miguel even more aroused. Miguel felt so dirty and depraved, but that's the kind of man he was. He wasn't a good man at all.

You clung onto him for dear life as he rutted in and out violently, you threw your head back into the pillow, his talons were sure to leave indents on your neck, and you drooled at the idea. Your body felt nothing more than a mass of sensation and nerve as you matched his rhythm and grinding your swollen clit up against him: like you were made for each other. It was like you were sucking the soul out of him.

“You need to get used to being fucked like this because I'm not leaving you alone for the entire weekend Hermosa.” Miguel declared with a snarl and it felt like the world was tipped on its axis. “My pretty little cumslut, eh?”

That's all it took.

One promise.

One last final rub of your clit.

Your mouth fell open to a silent scream, but then Miguel glared at you- instructing you to be loud. So you did. Your pussy gushed onto him and your throat ripped out a pornographic moan, the sound echoed into every nook and cranny of your being- it was an out-of-body experience, both a complete cleansing and a complete dirtying of the person you've become. You've never cum that hard, ever. It was so powerful and all-consuming that it drowned out every sound other than Miguel's heavy breathing. He was still pounding into you, chasing his second release of the night. His dick twitched when he saw your face look so blissed out, stars burst behind his eyes as his dick pulsated. Miguel threw his head back and spurted inside of you, before pulling out, spurting again, and then plugging his dick back in.

You were both panting messes, sweat rolling off of your skin as if you had just finished a marathon. Your faces were inches away from each other, gawking at each other vacantly, eyes wide and glittering with that after-sex aura. Silence clawed into the atmosphere, all you could do was stare at each other, silently saying ‘I can't believe we just did that’

Miguel leaned in and planted a soft kiss on your lips. “I meant what I said. I'm not letting you leave” The contrast between his gentle kiss and his filthy words made you feel limp.

i feel like this was lowkey self serve bc all i want to do is give miguel head LOL .

i also just have to say another thank u to all the people who love this series! i’m so overwhelmed by the idea that you guys like the way i write miguel. thank u so much! i love u

taglist (giggles): @thel0velykey190 @scaleniusrm @drefear r @imkikibtw @tbeanie3 @spxctorsslxt @saturnknows @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick k @mafer383 @i-feel-violated @crowleysthings @avatar-lover @l3laze @wyvernnest @rowboatweeb @schniti-is-in-the-house ri @d1lf-loverrr @iamv1n @ro99se @nxrdamp @mrssabinecallas @jesmynsjoys @xiylio @leahnicole1219 @reine-sans @tallmanlover @neverlandlostchild @axerrri @frieschan @plzfeedmebread @rorel1a @z0mbiekat @rey26 @stunkbiggu @honeycovered-bandaids@hearttjason @brittney69 @thyroidissues @4imhry @pinkliquor @realalpacorn @dr-skazka @simoniithehomii @aisyakirmann @deezisnotreal @synamonthy @bread6069 @iite-cool @thedevax @soymiguelsesposa @heartthrobinsblog @siidmm @queerponcho @luvingmyships @dhollandhs @kehlanilopez @lyrasdrawer

(IT WONT LET ME TAG ANY OTHER PPL BRUH TUMBLR WHY)

#spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara angst #miguel o’hara smut #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara

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nsharks · 10 months

Text

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part thirteen —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival.

"Twix."

Blue says your name in a single exhale of relief. You didn't expect her to be awake. She sits with her legs outstretched by a barely-there fire as you enter the cabin, the busted door groaning shut behind you. Fatigue sinks you to the floor beside her. You're about to curl your numb hands within the long sleeves of your new jacket, but the burn on your fingers makes you wince from the friction.

“You're filthy." She reaches for your hand, gently inspecting the burn. "And someone hurt you."

"Well, technically, I hurt them."

Blue shakes her head, the tone of her voice hardening the moment she drops your hand. "You shouldn't have gone."

"It was important—"

"It was stupid. You saw how those guys tried to kill us!" She huffs out a breath before snapping her gaze back to the flames. "You... you didn't tell me you were leaving. You didn't even say goodbye. I just woke up and you were gone.”

"I didn't want to wake you this morning because you needed rest,” you reason.

"That's a shitty excuse," she grumbles back, gesturing to the pink bracelet on her wrist. "I may not have a lot of friends, but I do know they're supposed to tell each other things like this."

Your eyes trail down from the burnt skin on your fingers, red and bubbly, to the cheap, plastic beads encompassing your wrist.

"You're right," you speak softly. "I should have told you."

A few minutes lapse in thick silence. In the midst of it, you swallow a few chalky pills to help with all the pain. You've been conservative in using them so far, but with your additional score of medicine, you figure you can afford some relief. There's no way you'll be able to sleep with your bitten wrist throbbing incessantly.

You're about to lean against the wall and let your eyes flutter shut when Blue speaks again, this time her voice so quiet you wonder if you're imagining it.

"You know, I was excited to go on this trip," she whispers, still looking at the fire. "I even secretly hoped we'd run into other people, just because—" she pauses to swallow, "—because I never get to meet any. And the ones we have met, my dad always kills. Except for you."

She drags her sleeve over her face and it’s now you notice she is crying. A knot forms in your throat and, after the day you've had, you struggle to find the right words.

"He kills them for a reason," you settle on, voice equally hushed. "A lot of people are—"

"A threat, I know." Blue repeats the words like a bitter mantra, then looks at her bandaged leg. "What does it feel like?" she asks after a moment, sliding her glossy eyes to yours. “Killing a person. Ghost told me it feels just like killing an animal or a Grey."

You inhale, then fix your stare to the dark ceiling. "No— I don't think it feels the same. It's much worse. I still get sick from it,” you admit.

"How many have you killed?"

"I don't remember anymore, but not that many." Certainly not as many as Ghost has. "It was always in self-defense. Always because I had to."

"I wish nobody ever had to," she says.

"I know. Me, too.”

With a sigh, she carefully scoots closer to you. "I'm sorry for getting mad. I just want to go home.”

"Don't be sorry. I’m the one who is sorry." You shake your head and offer her a shoulder until both of you have your backs against the wall. Her hair tickles your cheek. A small hand slips around your waist in a tender embrace, her fingers latching onto the fabric of the jacket. The sore muscles of your core flex instinctively from the touch before you finally force yourself to relax. It’s just Blue.

"Your dad says we're going back tomorrow,” you whisper, jaw grazing the crown of her head. “Sleep. It'll be a long day again."

"A long day for you maybe," she murmurs against your shoulder. "I get to ride on his back."

"Lucky you." You drape the heavy blanket over your bodies. Together you are warmer, if only by a little.

Deft wind whooshes through the trees, kissing your wet skin. Splotches of wriggling orange and red follow the water's current, along with a trail of brown muck as you scrub your breasts, hair, and cheeks. The sight of fish makes your stomach grumble. It's been far too long since you've had anything but squirrel and deer and berries, but this is not the time or place to ponder a way to catch one. The blue wash of early morning lightens with each second that passes. You wring out your hair, rewrap your wrist, and put your clothes back on before carefully climbing up the slope, satisfied enough with your icy bath.

"Ready," you announce, blowing a white breath into your hands and rubbing them together. Ghost crouches down so Blue can teeter onto his back. The backpack full of ammo hugs his front. He appears exceptionally bulky with all the baggage, and yet, he makes it look effortless.

Together, you head towards the infamous bridge, if one could call it that. Silvery fog makes it hard to see more than ten meters ahead of you, but Ghost seems to have the area memorized. Your hands ball up in your pockets, feeling empty and useless. With no bow, you have to rely on Ghost to get you back. It's a weird thing. Though, you suppose if there's anyone you'd want to be stuck out here with, it would be him. His presence alone offers more safety than the measly knife around your ankle.

"Ghost, we should go behind her," Blue says when you reach the beam.

He steps aside to allow you on first. "Try not to go for a swim this time."

A flush of pink bites your cheeks, though you blame it on the cold. It's hard to believe just four days ago you slipped off this thing. With his hands preoccupied, Ghost can't hold onto your shoulders like before, but he lingers close behind and repeatedly orders you to keep your eyes on the bank.

Once you're all across, a calm quiet settles, a vast contrast to how talkative Blue was the first time around. It makes you absentmindedly pick the skin around your nails. By the time you reach the road, you've looked behind your shoulder at least ten times, half-expecting to spot a burnt face hiding among the trees. Squirrels prattle by. A starling calls above your head. But no people. You force your eyes onward and take a deep breath.

"So, uh, would you rather get mauled by a bear," you break the silence, stepping over a stray tire, "—or be struck by lightning?"

It takes a second for Blue to respond. "Oh. That's a good one. Do I have a gun while the bear attacks me?"

"No. No weapons. Just you and the bear."

"Then lightning." She pats Ghost's shoulder. "Could you take a bear?"

"On a good day, maybe," he answers.

"What about you, Twix?"

"No," you instantly scoff, kicking at a rock. "A bear would rip me apart. I would choose lightning because it'd be quick."

"Okay, I have one," Blue quips. "Would you rather be ripped in half, or fall off a tall building?"

"Ripped in half by what?" Ghost asks, tilting his head back.

"It doesn't matter." You can hear the roll of her eyes.

"It does matter. Might change my answer."

"Fall off a building," you interject. "The way down would suck, but I bet you don't feel a thing once you hit the ground."

"But you'd look like a dead bug," says Blue.

"I don't care what I look like. I'll be dead."

Ghost clears his throat. "My turn, then."

"No! You have to pick one," she exclaims.

"Building," he drawls. A shadow of movement passes to the right of you. You naturally flinch closer to them, but it's just a doe hunkering down tall weeds that reach out of the concrete. A chuff of breath leaves your lips as you look away, only to find Ghost staring at you. For a few seconds, his eyes flicker between you and the deer before he goes back to focusing straight ahead.

"Would you rather," he begins, "—chop off all your fingers, or take out your own eyes?"

"What do I use to take out my eyes?" Blue asks.

"Knife."

"I guess my eyes," she winces. "I mean, I'd rather get rid of two things than ten."

They both glance at you expectantly. A frigid gust of northern air takes hold of your hair, so you tuck the unruly strands behind your ears. "Uh, fingers," you decide after a moment. "I could probably live without them."

In the village, the air stinks enough for Ghost to come to a halt. Before, he was able to pass right through. This time, a group of fourteen or fifteen Greys seems to be trapped on the main street between a crumbled wall and a fallen telephone pole. He has to decide between expending ammo or time. It's not long before he nods to a small building and the three of you scale the rusted fire escape. From the safe distance of the roof, he takes out the Greys one by one with an accuracy that barely leaves a dent in the ample stockpile of cartridges. With the route cleared, he's saved at least an hour or two of precious daylight.

The fog lifts. The ambery sun tries to peek through the clouds, but the sky is bent on staying grey. By the time you are back, your blisters have blisters. Blue has fallen asleep, cheek smushed against the back of Ghost's neck. Relief, thick and palpable, tastes sweet on your tongue. The fence, the rabbit hutch, the much-cozier cabin; none of it is home to you, but still, it calls your name in a welcoming coo.

You have to aim Ghost's flashlight so he can unlock the gate. Blue stirs, but her eyes remain closed even when he pushes inside the cabin. It's shrouded in darkness. You prop the flashlight on the table as his boots scuffle against the floor.

He puts her to bed. As he does, you feel around for the sofa and nearly choke when your worn fingertips graze shabby fabric. Not icy water or solid wood or muddy ground, but something soft. You're about to sink into it, your bones desperate for the springy cushions, when he returns to the threshold of the hallway with an ugly, flannel sheet in his hands.

"Here."

It's hard to be certain if you thank him or not; your brain conjures up the words, but your voice doesn't seem to function quite right. One thing is certain: you accept the sheet, tuck it on with urgency, and then lay down, burying your face in the crook of the pillow and arm. You kick off your boots and let the darkness take you, swift and heavy. It could be a coma or death disguised as sleep, and you figure you'd still slip into it without fuss.

Those first days back are quiet. Blissfully uneventful. You sleep and sleep. In fact, you don't move from the couch except to relieve yourself and eat a little. Ghost and Blue don't seem to do much, either. Or maybe you just don't notice.

At one point, you wake up to a small stack of shirts beside the couch. All black. One long sleeve, the rest short. You change into one and continue sleeping.

At another point, Blue hovers above you with a whisper that draws out a groan from you. "Hey. Ghost is making me skin some rabbits. Apparently, it's the only chore I can't get out of. Do you want to help me?"

"I think I'm good." You stuff the pillow over your face to make your point.

"You've been sleeping for three days, you know."

"I could go for another three."

She takes the hint and staggers away. Walking now. You hear her right leg drag a little.

The sleep is good until it's not.

On the fifth night, you're no longer fatigued enough to keep the dreams squandered. They start as whispers. Hoarse and gritty. Then they get louder and louder, shouting your name until they are so loud it feels like someone is screaming in your ear. Different voices blend into an indecipherable cacophony. One screams in pain; another in anger. You feel someone's cold fingers take hold of your neck and are finally pried awake, flying up against the couch with fiery pants burning through your lungs. But all that's there is a dark room.

Sweat clings to every inch of you. It feels like everything is on fire, and all you want to do is cool down. You haven't bathed since the river. Catching your breath, you swing your legs down and quietly pad to the bathroom where you hope a little water is left. Luckily, in the glint of moonlight, you find a bucket used for washing hands and scoop some to your face. Then, you comb it through your sweat-laced hair.

You unwrap your wrist and brush your fingers over the bite. You dab some water on it. You can't see well, but you feel the constellation of congealed scabs beneath your fingertips. Scars. Wounds. Your nostrils flare as a you wonder if one day you'll be so covered in them you won't even look like yourself. It's a good thing there is not enough light to spot the reflection of your face in the mirror, because you're not thrilled to greet the one now on your brow.

On your way out of the bathroom, something solid and immobile blocks your path. You startle backward, sucking in air as you peer up at a masked face. Ghost. It's Ghost. You haven't spoken to him since getting back, and in this moment, you long for the ability to push past him, but his wide shoulders consume the narrow hall.

It's silly to think you can avoid him when you sleep in the same space now. The thing is— you have no idea what to think of him. Before, it was easy to settle on fear of how easily he could snap your neck, and annoyance for how he treated you. And then, when forced to, you could engage in a pragmatic conversation about how to keep yourselves alive.

But now, you don't know what you are supposed to feel around him, and you have spent zero time reflecting on it so far.

"Sorry. I was just, uh, washing my face."

"In the middle of the night?" he rasps, tilting his gaze down.

You teeter back a step, keeping a healthy bubble of space between your bodies. You're not sure why he hasn't just moved out of the way, or what he would be up and about for at this hour, but briefly, you wonder if he is suspicious of you. If after everything you went through, he still thinks you're trying to do something and might send you back to the shed. The three of you relieve yourself outside the cabin since the plumbing doesn't work, so it certainly does seem odd that you'd be in the bathroom during the night.

"I was sweating a lot." Inwardly, you curse at yourself. "I mean, I haven't bathed since we got back, and I..." You trail off in a whisper.

"And you what?"

"I don't know." You fiddle with the hem of the oversized shirt he gave you. "I'm not trying to kill you or your daughter in your sleep, though, if that's what you're thinking."

He simply stares at you. It feels like he can see right through you, and your eyes drop to your wool socks. Then, he murmurs, “I wasn't thinking that."

"Okay," you reply carefully. "Could you... please move, then?"

Finally, he steps out of the way, but you feel the burn of his eyes on your skin as you brush past him.

"Twix."

You pause, looking back. "Yes?"

A shake of his head. And then: "Take a proper bath tomorrow. You could use it.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. "Will do."

With that, you crawl back onto the couch.

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #cod #ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #zombie apocolypse au

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lazyevaluationranch · 5 months

Note

*pats askbox gently* there are more Thermoreceptors?

(I'm sorry ur dome was so hot; I hope its much cooler now!)

My bluff has been called! Hooray!!

I am not a neurologist, a biologist, or a scientist. If anyone with better credentials than "obsessed with emergent properties" contradicts me, listen to them instead.

Cell membranes include little portal proteins that open under certain circumstances based on the shape of the protein and let chemicals into and out of the cell. These portals are useful for all sorts of things: managing water and nutrients, sending messages to nearby cells, serving the whims of tiny intercellular cats. Science hasn't found the tiny intercellular cats yet, but we all know they're there; the existence of a door that can be opened necessarily implies an indecisive feline.

Some protein shapes open up if the temperature is within a certain range. This means that if a cell with that sort of protein in its membrane experiences a temperature in the right range, it will move some chemicals around. This is used to make nerve cells that send a message towards the brain whenever they experience a certain temperature.

Because evolution does all its best work the night before the deadline while on a Code Red Mountain Dew bender, the opened-by-temperature portal proteins are mostly copied from opened-by-a-specific-chemical portal proteins. All of them, in fact, still open for specific chemicals, which means there exist out in the world liquids you can put in a bottle that most animals will instead perceive as "a temperature between 8 and 26 degrees" So things can get a little weird.

Temperature-opening portal proteins:

TRPA1 Opens for temperatures below 12C (not air temperature, skin or body temperature, so you might be kind of in trouble when this happens). Used by hunting snakes to detect where heat isn't so they can find prey. Feels painful in an itchy sort of way.

This one also opens for allyl isothiocyanate. Many plants have evolved to take advantage of the existence of a chemical most animals perceive as itchy pain, especially horseradish and wasabi. Allyl isothiocyanate is harmful to plants, so they keep two separate components in tiny compartments. When an animal bites the plant, the compartments break open their contents mix to create allyl isothiocyanate.

"This plant tastes like itching" is a good defense against almost all animals, but some humans have taught themselves to appreciate the taste of itching.

TRPM8 Opens for temperatures between 8 and 26 degrees. Opens for menthol (peppermint, spearmint, wintergreen) and linalool (roses, orange blossoms, basil). Feels cool or cold.

"This plant tastes like cold" is a somewhat less effective defense against being eaten than "this plant tastes like itching" but it's a more widespread defense because TRPM8-activating chemicals don't harm plants and don't need elaborate two-part storage.

TRPV4 Opens for temperatures from 27-37 C. I'm not sure what this one feels like, or if even feels like anything, since it covers normal human body temperatures. Whatever feeling we get from this one, we're feeling it nearly all the time.

Plants do make a chemical that tastes like this temperature, and it can repel nonhuman creatures with different body temperatures: allicin, the flavour of garlic. Like allyl isothiocyante, it is stored in two compartments inside the plant, and combined when the plant is bitten.

Maybe this is why vampires abhor garlic. There is a feeling that, as humans, we always have. Something we don't notice, something deeper than touch. That feel disappears forever when you become a vampire, except those unbearable moments when garlic returns to you for a fleeting moment the experience of lost humanity.

TRPV3 Opens for temperatures 33-39 degrees. Opens for eugenol, found in cinnamon, nutmeg, bay leaf, holy basil, ginger, allspice, and cloves. Feels like warmth.

Plants with high quantities of eugenol, like holy basil and Japanese star anise, are sometimes sacred to buddhists because they smell nice and bugs don't like to eat them, so you can burn them as incense without worrying about all the little crawly guys.

Humans apparently think food that tastes like "warm" is comforting.

TRPV1 Opens for temperatures over 43 degrees. (The one I was experiencing in the overheated dome, which I had never felt from air before) Opens for capsaicin, the active chemical in hot peppers. Opens for the combination of temperature and acidity of fevers and infected wounds. This one we feel as pain, as burning, as flame.

TRPV1 says: Your flesh is failing, and your doom is very near.

Humanity says: This is incredible. We are going to breed plants that cause this sensation as much as possible, and we will spend thousands of years getting it right. We are going to dry this and powder this and flake it and grill it and ferment it and eat it with everything.

And when we leave earth and go into space, we take hot peppers with us. Without gravity, fluid builds up in nasal passages, and astronauts sort of have colds the entire time they're in space and can't smell food very well. But the Nearness Of Your Doom is not a smell and is not perceived by the nose, so - with their doom always on the other side of ten centimeters of insulated aluminum - astronauts can taste hot peppers. In 2002, Peggy Whitson, commander of the ISS, jokingly refused to let a replacement crew on board until they handed over the hot sauce.

We are a strange and wonderful species.

#question #ame-kage #vampires #astronauts #intercellular cats #fun post to tag #we are growing something that affects each of these. :)#there are at least three more heat-reactive ion channels but I don't think we use them for much: TRPM3 ANO1 TRPV2

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tiredfox64 · 2 months

Note

Hi! I was wondering can you write Earthrealm champions x Arab reader who is like a Marcelina from Adventures time. She basically doesn’t need blood to feed and she sucking the red from things making it grey and one day when the boys was in mission reader jumps on Kenshi and sucked his coat dry.

Cherry Cola

Yip notes: Ngl Adventure Time scared me as a kid and I still won’t watch it.

Pairings: Earthrealmer Champions x Vampire! Afab reader

Warnings‼️: Bonk, somewhat proofread

Something is wrong at the Wu Shi Academy. The monks have been discussing the possibility of a wild animal in the area. But what kind of animal sucks the color out of a piece of fruit? And what could leave such big holes behind?

Oh, this doesn’t seem good. Vaeternus must be behind this. What else could create such marks? Why would they be targeting fruit? Nobody knows but they will still believe they are behind this.

This situation has put many on edge. Liu Kang would look into this himself but this might be a better mission for his champions to go on. He is confident that no one will be hurt. Because if this being is what he thinks it is then it will only be harmful to a primary color.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

All four of the men walked through the wooded forest of the mountains. They followed a trail of plants that were missing their colors. Roses, berries, mushrooms, and leaves. All of them had two holes left behind. Johnny took a look at one of the mushrooms and saw how deep the puncture wound went. He grimaced at the thought of being bitten by the possible vaeternian that was doing this.

“Damn, I really hope we don’t come across this thing.”

“Better to catch it now than let it roam around and believe it can do whatever it wants.” Kung Lao replied to Johnny’s worry.

“What is it, Cage? Afraid to be bit?” Kenshi teased his friend.

“Johnny’s concerns are reasonable,” Raiden advocated for him, “But we should try to capture whatever this thing is. Even if it is not a vaeternian it is something else that doesn’t mind sinking its teeth into things.”

It doesn’t help Johnny’s nerves that they were wearing the same outfits they wore when hunting down Shang Tsung. The outfits were made to lessen any possible injuries. His face is still open though! What’s gonna stop this creature from taking a bite out of his nose and sucking him dry…pause.

If a mosquito can find an opening, so could a vaeturnian, if this is a vaeturnian.

The further they walked the more they saw the flora missing its color. Raiden and Kung Lao began to recognize something. All of the plants and fruit they had seen would have been red. Everything else had been left alone. They give each other a look before looking at Kenshi. It might have been a bad move to let him wander with a coat that was almost all red. He is literally a walking platter of food for whatever is out there. It certainly isn’t a vaeturnian but it has vampiric elements.

They were passing by a cave before Johnny stopped them, “Woah, you guys better take a look at this.”

The three stepped back and looked at where Johnny shined his light. Further in the cave was evidence that there was someone staying there. There was literally a house in the cave. It looked a little rundown, but it wasn’t in any bad shape. The true evidence that showed that someone was there was the pile of rose petals. Half of the rose petals have been drained of their color.

“Nope, nope, nope.” Johnny wanted to turn back but Raiden stopped him.

“We have to finish our investigation, Johnny.”

“Do you not see what I’m seeing? That’s a trap. It’s a trap to lure us in and when we are deep into the cave whatever is in there is gonna bite the back of our necks.”

“You should stop using your phone. All those conspiracy theories are making you paranoid. This is not one of those “liminal spaces” you talk about.” Kung Lao mocked Johnny for being so afraid.

While those idiots argued about what to do Kenshi stood there in confusion. His vision could only make him see so far. He didn’t see what everyone else saw. He didn’t even know that the flowers and fruit were missing colors.

It didn’t matter. All he wanted to do was end this mess. He took out Sento and carefully made his way into the cave while everyone else kept arguing. The further he went the more he saw the house. The feeling of being watched hit him hard and he feared he might have walked into something dangerous. His head looked up and saw…

“Huh?”

A being. A human being or so he thinks. All he can see is someone upside down with their feet planted on the rock ceiling. He couldn’t see many details since he could only see the blue outline of the body. He stared in awe as he tried to figure out what was going on. That left Kenshi wide open to the mouth of a ferocious beast.

The head of this creature turned slowly towards him. The creature lunged at him before Kenshi could bring Sento up to protect him. Its body collided with his and he was knocked to the ground. Its mouth opened wide and Kenshi could see the razor-sharp fangs. He heard Johnny yell out to him.

“KENSHI!!”

Down the fangs came onto Kenshi’s…clothes…?

Wait what? Hold on, did I misread that? Ah, okay, this was more dramatic on his end than yours. Let’s step back a bit and get your side of the story.

You are no vaeturnian, you’re just a chill vampire. You look the role and play the role except you have an easier time when it comes to feasting. You don’t need to go out hunting every night for a human body to suck the blood out of nor do you need to pin down a bear and drink its blood. You have it easier by only needing to drink anything red.

It’s way more pleasant than blood. Blood is metallic and the taste stays longer than you would like. But when it’s something like berries or rose petals, it’s much more flavorful. It’s floral, it’s bitter, it’s sweet, it’s way better than blood.

You declared yourself a “vegetarian”. No drinking blood, only the color red. You wandered around the land trying to find new objects that had the color red to them. You found that being near the Wu Shi Academy was beneficial because of the many plants that were around and the clothes they left out to dry.

Oh you scoundrel, no wonder some of Kung Lao’s clothes were losing color. You couldn’t help it. Once you realized clothes had a whole different taste you had to try whatever you could. Kung Lao was like a sweet lychee to you. He was your favorite to feast on.

The little bit you could get from Raiden was alright. He would taste like blood orange if his amulet wasn’t involved. He was way too metallic with all that lightning he was producing. On the rare occasion you got to steal from Johnny he had a red wine taste to him. It’s sweet but could use more aging than he would be perfect.

You never got the chance to try Kenshi however. It’s a shame. You saw how he always wore red but he never left his clothes out to dry. It must be his expensive taste and how his clothes need dry cleaning kind of care. He just looked so tasty with all that red he wore. You thought you would never get the chance to taste that delicious man. So you sulked in your cold and lonely cave, drinking from the same old things.

Your wishes must have been heard since you heard people approaching your cave. You went into hiding by crawling on the cave ceiling and hiding behind a stalactite. You peeked to see who your mysterious visitors were. You were unable to see them until

gasp Kenshi?! All in red? What a treat!

You walked out from behind the stalactite to get a better view of him. That’s when he peered up at you with that lovely red cloth covering his eyes. This was it. This was your big moment to finally get a taste of him.

You lunged at him with a wide smile on your face. You were on him in an instant with your teeth ready to snag onto his coat. You heard the yell that Johnny let out but paid no mind to it. Down you snapped your mouth on his coat and began to suck the color right off of it.

Kenshi was rightfully confused. All he could see was you nibbling on his coat. He couldn’t see how the cherry red color was slowly draining from his clothes, leaving only a pale gray color. Johnny was the first to run over to Kenshi and you. He shined the light at you guys so he could see what was going on. He was perplexed by the spectacle in front of him. You were not harming Kenshi at all. You were harming his clothes more than anything.

“Wh-What is she doing?” Kenshi asked.

Johnny stayed silent as he struggled to explain the situation to the blind swordsman. How could he logically explain that all the color in his clothes was draining away? Raiden and Kung Lao came running, only to be stunned by the situation at hand.

“Would anyone like to tell me what is going on?” Kenshi asked once more, sounding more aggravated this time.

“She seems to be…uh…” Raiden was struggling to tell Kenshi the truth without upsetting him. Don’t worry, Kung Lao will say it.

“She is sucking the color right out of your clothes.”

“WHAT!?”

Just as you were about to finish sucking the last of the cherry red color, you felt the back of your head being hit with something. It made a loud thunk noise and you finally unlatched your jaw. You backed away while rubbing the spot where you got hit. You assumed that Kenshi hit you with the handle of Sento.

The men helped Kenshi up and looked at the damage you have done. All of the color in his coat was drained. There were only a few items of clothing that still had their red color. It’s not a bad look on him but that doesn’t help the fact that your actions were uncalled for. You hadn’t the slightest bit of guilt on your face. You seemed happy and full. Very gluttonous of you

“What was that?” Johnny asked.

“What was what?”

“That! That thing you did to Kenshi! How did you suck the color off his clothes?” Johnny’s concerns were echoing through the cave.

“Johnny, I think that is her ability. I think she can drink anything that is red.” What would these idiots do without Raiden?

You nodded your head, agreeing with Raiden’s spot on observation.

“So, if you drink red things, why have fangs if they are not used to cut through flesh?”

“You can’t drink soda without popping a hole in it. I need an entrance to suck the color out.” You answered Kung Lao with as much attitude as you could provide because his question was just stupid.

“So just to be one hundred percent with you, you weren’t trying to suck the blood out of Kenshi?”

This moment was weirdly incomprehensible to Johnny. He has never encountered a vampire creature that only sucked the color out of things.

“Clearly not! I don’t even like blood. The color red is much sweeter. He was really sweet, like uh cherry cola kind of sweet.”

There was silence for only five seconds. In those five seconds, the men found this situation a bit funnier, except for Kenshi. They realized there was nothing to worry about. You were an extremely harmless vampire who only sucks the red out of things.

“Wonderful…I think we can return to Liu Kang now. We can tell him that the culprit has been found.” Kenshi turned away from everyone and started to walk off. He put Sento away and walked with his fist clenched tightly. This day was just too weird for the men but it sure would be an interesting story to tell Liu Kang.

“Wait!” You called out to Kenshi.

He stopped for a second, hoping to hear an apology come from your red-stained lips. It could be about ruining his clothes, or pouncing on him, or even worrying everyone. But instead, you decided to say.

“Can I drink the red part of your shoes?”

“Haven’t you had enough?” Give Kenshi a break, please.

Yap notes: Not too sure I liked this one but I tried my best. I was pushing through my depression but nothing was making me feel great. Lots of thunderstorms and heat so it makes me a bit ill. Hopefully I can do a little better for the next fic I write. Sorry again if this wasn't my best. Adiós!

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srgntjamesbuckybarnes · 4 months

Text

Hearts Entangled

Summary: With the declining rate of omegas, alphas have become desperate, and betas are fighting back. In the midst of war, Y/N and her brother get separated and Y/N finds herself in trouble.

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Alpha Bucky x Omega Reader x Alpha Steve

Warnings: Violence mentioned, Blood

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: Not beta’d. First time writing in the first person, but it suits the storytelling better this time around. What POV do you guys like best? Should I change the POV? Do I know where this is going? Absolutely not but let's go! Enjoy this from the vault.

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1

The world slows when you’re dying. The mind struggles to grasp anything tangible. Staring up at the blur of blue and white, I knew I was slipping away, fading into nothing, just like my mother. Bitten by an alpha, she changed, presented as an alpha herself. My father put her down before she could turn feral. That sent Basil into a frenzy. He nearly killed our father. He would have if I wasn’t in the room. It didn’t matter if alphas and betas were at war. It didn’t matter if our mother was the enemy; to us, she was just mom.

Basil might have aided the humans in the war if it hadn’t been for our mother’s murder. His need for vengeance was too great. Omegas are a rarity nowadays. The news is a montage of horror, always reporting on how many alphas turned humans. Omegas were already a dying species, but with the war, so were the alphas. My brother feared if I was bitten, that our father would murder me as well. Basil always joked that I was like mom, stubborn. Maybe I should have listened to him when he told me to stay home. Maybe if I hadn’t gone searching for him when he didn’t come home last night, my hand wouldn’t be sticky with my own blood.

A hiss followed by a low whine escaped my lips as my hand pressed into the wound on my side. I had to get home. What if Basil returned after I left? He would never know what happened to me; no one would. Well, no one except the guy who shot me.

SNAP.

My head rolled to the side, peering through the trees. Details were a blur, but I was able to make out blotches of color. I squinted my eyes, dirt and rocks stabbing my cheek, reminding me I wasn’t dead yet. My chest heaved as the trees danced before me.

SNAP.

This time the noise was closer. Whatever was coming to finish me off didn’t care about being caught. It wasn’t like I could defend myself if I tried. I hoped it was just an animal or somehow my brother had magically found me; the sane part of my brain screamed that it was the person who shot me.

It was none of the above.

A warm hand settled on my shoulder. I could feel the heat seep through the sleeve of my crimson-stained t-shirt. Blinking slowly at the person crouched beside me, I wanted to speak, but my lips weren't moving. His were. Whatever he was saying, I couldn't make out. I was too stunned to attempt to read his lips, but I knew he was non-threatening. If he wanted to kill me, he wouldn’t-

A shrill scream reverberated through the woods.

My chest burned from the inside out, and I knew that scream came from me. With slow movements, I gazed down at my stomach. One of the stranger’s hands sealed over my own. The other held my chin, blood coating both of his hands. I tried to follow the pink of his lips, to make sense of anything he was saying. I strained to focus on the yellow of his hair or the blue orbs observing my every move. In the end, my eyes flapped shut.

Searing pain dashed up my right arm drowning out any other pain. Just as quickly as it emerged, it evaporated. Suddenly my lungs were flooded with oxygen, my breath livelier than before. Fresh linen suffocated my nostrils. Had I died? The lids of my eyes tremored before springing open. For the first time, I could see him clearly. His slicked-back yellow hair paled into champagne. His slightly overgrown beard was several shades darker. His nostrils flared.

“Omega,” the man purred.

My eyes latched on his piercing stare. Amid his blue eyes were flecks of green. He was gorgeous. I was the first to break eye contact, my focus glued to my arm. Teeth marks tattooed on the inside of my wrist. Panic invaded all of my senses. Basil’s worst fears were coming true right before my eyes.

“You were dying-” the man trailed off. “It won't scar.”

“You expect me to thank you?” I snarled.

He shook his head, running his dry, blood-stained fingers through his hair. “I wasn’t trying to turn you. I was trying to lure the betas away. You got mixed in the crossfire.”

I wanted to ask if he had been the one to shoot me, but from what I could tell, he wasn’t carrying a gun. His back straightened as he scanned the trees. I didn’t see anything, but his body language turned alert. Danger was approaching.

“What’s your name?”

He stared down at me for a moment before responding, “Steve. Steve Rogers. You?”

I stretched my scarlet hand towards him. “Y/N L/N. Thank you.”

Steve paused with a raised eyebrow, gently shaking my hand. “We have to go. You’ve lost a lot of blood.” He didn’t wait for an answer; Steve thrust my hands back against the hole in my side. “Keep pressure on the wound.” Then he was hoisting me up. Once again, my world was spinning. My head relaxed against his collarbone. The scent of fresh linen was more prominent but far from unpleasant. My muscles went limp, too relaxed to hold onto the man carrying me. Steve tensed, his grip tightening around my back and legs. A deep rumble ricocheted beneath my head, but I couldn’t make out what Steve said. How much blood did I lose? A drop of liquid sprinted from my scalp to the collar of my t-shirt. With a shaky hand, I wiped the fluid from my forehead. It was clear. Was I sweating? My palm lazily rested against Steve’s chest in an attempt to ground myself. I would have retracted my hand had I been stronger. The heat radiating from his chest was scorching. It was then that I realized I was burning up. His name was on the tip of my tongue. I wasn’t sure what I would say, but I hoped he would somehow understand. I never got to find out. His name never left my lips. My eyelids grew heavy, welcoming the darkness.

The next time I opened my eyes, I was blinded. A string of recessed lights hovered above me. Harsh blue lights beat down on my skin, reminding me of how my skin burned. I felt drenched, but this time, I was cool. Sinking my palms into the surface beneath me, I realized I was lying on a mattress. Sitting upright, something slipped from my arms. Reaching over the side of the bed, I hissed, pain radiating from my side.

“Take it easy,” a thick Russian accent uttered. “You don't want to tear stitches.”

With a hand over my stitches, I scanned the room for the voice. When I came up empty, I panted, rolling myself onto my back.

“Where am I?”

I jumped as a raven-haired woman suddenly appeared crouched beside the bed. Her piercing blue eyes were cold, unlike the man who saved me. Steve. Where was Steve?

“Medical wing,” the woman answered, plucking a damp cloth from the floor and dropping it on my arm. “Keep this on. It will stop fever.”

I blinked at the woman as she examined my wrist. She was tall and slender. Her jaw was as sharp as a razor, a stark contrast to her soft plump lips. Taking a deep breath, I was met with lavender. It was soothing yet sweet.

“You’re an omega?”

She hummed, dropping my hand a bit harsher than necessary.

“Who are you? Where’s Steve?” I croaked.

Her sharp eyes stared down at me with a lifted brow. She didn’t seem to want to be here anymore than I did.

“You talk a lot, no?”

Fuck this. I have to go home. I need to find Basil. Sitting up ignoring my groans of pain, I began yanking all of the damp rags from my skin. It’s not like they could keep me here. The corners of the woman's lips twitched as she folded her arms across her chest and stepped back. She wasn’t going to stop me. Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, my bare feet hit the black tile. A cramp shot through my abdomen, strong enough to bring me to my knees had I not been holding onto the bed. Sweat began to bead along my forehead. I was lightheaded. Not again.

Before I could faint, an arm swooped around my back, guiding me onto the bed. Once again, I was draped in rags.

“You’re a stubborn little omega.” I would have snapped had it not been for the smile in the woman's tone. It reminded me of every time my brother had called me stubborn. In a way, it was soothing. “I’m Carla.” She paused, eyeing the shut door. “You don’t want to see that mutt right now. You’re in heat. Happens when you present.”

“But Steve-”

“Is mutt like rest of alphas around an omega, especially one in heat.” There was a bite in Carla’s tone. “If you want to leave, I won't stop you but trust me when I say you are better off here. Omegas are difficult to come by and you are already weak from gunshot. You’ll be claimed second you step out that door.”

My head reeled from all of the information. I wasn’t oblivious to the alpha and omega lifestyles, but I never intended to partake in it. My eyes flickered to the mating gland along her neck. Sensing my stare, she flipped her long hair over her shoulder, concealing her gland. It was too late.

“You haven’t been claimed.”

The look in Carla’s eyes was murderous, her words a warning, “Mind your business, omega. You are patient, not me. I am helping you, not other way around. Remember that.”

I did. For the next week, while I was trapped in a delirious state, I relied on Carla. She was the only person to visit me in the medical room. It had been her delivering food or redressing my bandages. I began to crave her presence, but we rarely spoke. The observation I had made had struck a chord, a weak spot. Every time Carla entered the room, she appeared more on edge than the day before. I contemplated apologizing for bringing up what appeared to be a sore subject for her, but she didn’t seem like the type to dwell on something like that.

When my heat was finally over, Carla left the door unlocked. Her speechless way of allowing visitors or letting me wander. I opted for the latter. After several twists and turns, I discovered a door leading outside. Careful not to pull my stitches, I sprinted out the door. After being trapped in a room for a week, I was desperate to feel the sun on my skin again. Standing in an open field, I spun around taking in everything. A few feet away was a forest. Was it the one I had been dying in? How far was I from home?

“Hey, you’re up.” A shoulder bumped into my own. “How are you feeling?”

Fresh linen.

A smile crept onto my lips, my neck craning up to Steve. “Well, I’m alive.”

Steve nodded. “I can see that.”

“Thank you again, for saving me. I would have died out there if you hadn’t found me.”

Steve shook his head, his thumbs peeking from the pockets of his slacks. “You almost died because of me. That bullet was meant for me.”

Turning back to the line of trees, I shrugged off his last statement. I needed to focus on the positive. I was alive. It didn’t stop my curiosity from slipping into the front of my brain. “When you found me, you said you were drawing humans away.”

The man nodded, running a hand through his sandy blonde hair. “A friend of mine, Bucky, went missing. I was out searching for him when I came across you.”

Steve stood there with a far-off look in his eyes. I hadn't missed the sadness that crossed his face. His eyes searched the horizon with a sense of urgency as if the person or object he was searching for was the most important thing in the world.

“Your friend,” I paused, side-eyeing him, “did you find him?”

Steve shook his head, his eyes still trained on the forest. “Your arrival hasn’t exactly permitted me to travel.” The tips of his ears dusted a shade of pink.

I blushed at the idea of sending a man like Steve Rogers into a rut. Surely, he was mated.

“Sorry for leaving you with Carla. We don't have many omegas here. I can't imagine she was cordial the entire time.”

Remembering Carla’s comment, I gently rested a hand on Steve’s bicep. My hand dwarfed in comparison to the muscle beneath my hand. Steve’s head snapped in my direction.

“Omegas are rare, but she isn’t mated,” I pointed out.

Peaking over his shoulder toward the door, Steve released a deep exhale. “Her true mate rejected their bond. By the time she had found him, he already had a family. Didn’t want to break up the only family his pups knew.”

My hand slipped from his bicep as guilt washed over me. My head drooped to stare at the ground. Had I known, I wouldn’t have said anything to her about being unclaimed. It was a personal topic. Suddenly, a feather-light touch seized my chin, dragging my head upwards. My eyes locked on Steve’s deep blue orbs instantly.

“Don’t worry, she found another mate. One who wants her. My friend Bucky.”

“The one who is missing,” I asked, but I already knew the answer. No wonder Carla was on edge. Her mate was missing. Yet, I couldn’t help but think back to her smooth mating gland. Her mate had yet to claim her.

Steve nodded.

Subconsciously, I ran a hand along my mating gland. “And where is your mate?”

Steve released my chin as if I had burned him. His gaze returned to the trees. I should have learned my lesson from Carla. I should have minded my business, but I needed to know.

“My true mate,” Steve began, surprising me. I didn’t think he would answer. I followed his line of sight, giving him a sense of privacy, but my ears remained open. Steve continued, “was Peggy. She tried to put an end to the war. She’s dead now.”

There it was. I had once again managed to put my foot in my mouth. “I'm sorry.” I didn’t know what else to say. I hadn’t known the pain of losing a true mate, but I knew love and I knew loss. It couldn’t be much different.

The atmosphere grew still as Steve lapsed into a prolonged silence. The only sound was the rustling of the leaves in the light breeze. His face turned skyward, allowing his long eyelashes to kiss his high cheekbones for a split second. Then his hand intertwined with mine, pulling me down to sit beside him in the grass.

“What were you doing in the woods when I found you?”

I had to bite my tongue from saying I was dying. It wasn’t appropriate after he opened up about his true mate. He was trying to change the subject, so I was honest. I pressed my chin to my chest, plucking at the grass beside me. “I was looking for my brother. I have to find him.”

A painful smile graced Steve’s lips. “I guess we're both looking for someone.”

While the statement was innocent, there was a longing in the way he said it. We both needed a mate.

“Yeah, I guess we are,” I whispered.

Next Chapter

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startrekfangirl2233-writes · 4 months

Text

Lens Flare

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Description: Over the past three months, your career has grown by leaps and bounds. Yet at the same time, you can't help feeling dissatisfied. A lot of your feelings stem from what you did the last time you saw him. Jake Seresin. Lieutenant Jake Seresin. It had been fun, in the hangar, under the dead of night - passionate and hot. So too had been the video you filmed and the pictures you'd snapped. But hindsight, well, maybe there is a reason why they say "Hindsight is Twenty-Twenty". Because Jake hasn't called, despite how badly you want him to. A new assignment in North Island might have the potential to change everything for Jake and our Shutterbug, including how they approach everything they hold dear.

Warnings: Once again, this is just some porn with plot. The feral plot bunnies ran away with me, I fear.

Word Count: 8502

A/N: Hiya everyone! I'm baaack! Enjoy this sequel to my fic Photo Finish. It's just as smutty and gorgeous as the last one!

This fic is brought to you all by the constant support of @horseshoegirl, @sarahsmi13s and @desert-fern. You're all my heroes and I love you to bits for keeping me from ditching this story before it even started! I couldn't have written it without you!

AO3: Cross-posted Here!

Wattpad: Cross-posted Here!

An old photography teacher of yours once told you never to submit photos with lens flares to any publication, magazine or contest. He considered lens flares the biggest mistake for a rookie photographer. He’d declared, quite adamantly in front of your entire class, using your pictures as examples, how lens flares made photos look cheap and low quality. Given his dislike of the trick of light, he’s also taught you a plethora of tricks to prevent them. Over the many, many years since you left his class, you’ve started to relax and deviate from the rigid rules of photography he once taught you. For a large portion of your career, you've been photographing subjects which cannot be posed in a studio, which helps. Every snick and whir of your camera feels like you are letting go of rules and embracing your art.

You’ve always heard wildlife photography has a tendency to relax photographers' attitudes. It’s a truth you’re very thankful you had the chance to experience. After all, there are no rules when it’s just you, your camera and what feels like the entire world a hair's-breadth away from your camera lens. It’s hard to be frustrated with the sun glancing across your camera lens when it highlights fox kits gamboling in dewy spring grass. Or elk on a frost-bitten winter morning with clouds of their breath dissipating into the clear air. Those pictures were once-in-a-lifetime shots, perfect in their imperfection and richer with the sparkling halos of light.

Being back in New York after years of traveling has made you appreciate the photographs you took even more. Now you feel like you can fully appreciate the wilderness in them. New York is wild in an entirely different way. It’s louder, greyer, more populous, yet just as vibrant. In New York, you’ve been able to capture human nature, snapping minuscule interactions between people who are always in a hurry and always moving. But you also have to work to make enough money to fund your passions. Not having to travel helped bring some stability to your passions. But of all of the things you thought you'd be photographing, fashion models and clothes were never an option. In a way, photographing fashion and fashion models is capturing another kind of wild animal in your lens sights. Models and designers are wholly proprietary and protective over what they consider theirs, whether their clothing or their aesthetic appearance. You’ve had to shoot and reshoot, as well as touch up your photos more than you've ever had to before. Of course, in this case, your primary objective is to make the models and the clothes they are wearing look otherworldly and incredible.

At first, the thrill of doing something new was alluring and exciting. But after a year, trapped in New York City, doing the same thing and working with the same people day in and day out, you can’t help but miss wildlife photography. It's like a persistent ache below your breast bone, something calling you back to the life you lived before. You're missing traveling in arid deserts and verdant forests even more now. And then the US Navy came calling. Now, while you miss the wilderness, you think you might just miss something else, more.

It’s late, half-past three in the early hours of the morning, and you’re sitting out on the balcony attached to your overpriced shoebox of an apartment. You’ve found yourself sitting out here more and more as the summer heat turns into the cool of fall. Your balcony is so small there’s only room for a single chair, and your feet are propped up on the wrought iron railing. New York’s the city which never sleeps and the crackle and groan of the city resonates around you. Your oldest camera, a Canon you bought in college with the pennies and dollars you’d saved from tips earned from waitressing, sits on your lap. All night, you’ve been trying and failing to chase away how unsettled you’ve been feeling by peering through the viewfinder and trying to see things from a different perspective.

But it hasn’t worked. You've been feeling discomfited of late, unsettled and restless. Maybe your listlessness has something to do with your next assignment. You can’t lie, not even to yourself no matter how hard you try. It has everything to do with your next assignment. You should be excited. You should be asleep, because at least if you were asleep, the time would pass sooner. For once, you will not be photographing a new designer collection. In the morning, you're flying to San Diego to take pictures at North Island Naval Base for a follow-up piece sanctioned by the US Navy. Your team is joining you, which should be a comfort, albeit slight and slim. There will be more planes to photograph and possibly shots you can take from within the cockpit or from up in the air.

It took three months to publish the article on the US Navy’s newest hotshot aviation squadron. There had been countless revisions and rounds of approval with the US Navy's Office of Public Relations to greenlight the endeavor. It's been exactly the same amount of time since you met the Dagger Squadron, too - only three months after you edited the photographs, focusing maybe a little too much on one face in particular. Three months after you took the biggest risk of your life, professionally and personally. Three months after you made a sex tape with a client. It doesn’t help that he was a memorable client, too - and how you haven’t been able to forget him.

It's only been two weeks since the magazine hit newsstands with your picture of the Daggers in all their finery near one of the jets on the front cover. Everywhere you go, it seems you see their faces - his face. Your phone has been ringing off the hook ever since. Everyone wants you to take professional portraits of their clients. But your phone has never had the voice you so desperately want to hear on the other end of the line. It's a nationally distributed magazine, after all, and like everything nowadays, published both physically and digitally. The magazine had also mailed special copies to each member of the squadron which was your subject. So he has to have seen it. So why hasn't he called? It's the one question on your mind. It may be the only question on your mind, but it's far from the only thought in your mind.

Chances are, he doesn’t want to talk to you at all. After all, why would he want to?

You couldn't silence the thoughts if you tried - and you have tried, repeatedly. Getting drunk made you maudlin, going out had you seeing his face in every stranger’s and getting laid had made you wish you were with him rather than anyone else. Over and over again you’ve found yourself thinking about those last few moments with him, agonizing over every detail, from the kisses and touches to the last time you saw him. Maybe you hadn’t been entirely clear in your note to him. You can recall the note as if you wrote it yesterday, the note you'd affixed to the flash drive you handed him.

Sure, you told him to call you when he was in New York next. But really, you wanted him to call you, period. Or text you. Something, anything to show you’re lingering in his memory in the same way he lingers in yours. You thought your dalliance had been memorable enough. You hoped you were memorable enough. After all, it's not every day you let a man fuck you up against his jet and record it, forget a man you’ve known only for a few days. Maybe it’s a little silly how attached you’ve gotten to him, given the short time frame, after what should have been completely meaningless sex.

But it’s not meaningless anymore, at least not to you, after how many times you've seen the video since you last saw him. Your camera hadn’t hidden a single thing when you made your little home movie all those nights ago. You’ve seen how his hands had been gentle, his eyes soft. Your entire countenance had been beckoning, beguiling in the throes of passion, needy in a way you’ve never let yourself be before with anyone else. He’s also spoiled you for any other man on the planet - or at least in New York. You haven’t hit the same heights since him, and a part of you is sure you never will again. And now you have to enter the lion’s den, venture right into enemy territory with your head held high and only a camera to shield your too-hungry gaze.

A thump on the railing drags you out of your reverie. Your neighbor’s escape-artist black cat makes himself at home on the railing, paws flexing as his tail lashes through the humid night air. Like you’re in a dream, you lift up the camera and peer through the viewfinder. Tonight, everything seems to be coming back to lens flares. The neon lights fracture in your camera lens, softening the visage of the cat on the railing, green eyes luminescent. With reflexes born of years of wildlife photography, partially stunted after nearly a year of fashion photography, you depress the shutter with a soft snick and a near-silent whir. What you’re left with is a long exposed image - neon lights blurring in the background as one shines behind the cat’s head. Even his fur is blurred, only green eyes in focus, piercing into your soul. It’s perfect, as expected, and you hope it’s an omen for the days to come while you’re in San Diego.

Green eyes, different from those of your neighbor’s cat, haunt you, even more, the following day as you pile out of one of the minivans the studio rented for you and your team, as well as all of your equipment, on the tarmac at North Island. The humid, sticky air stinks of jet fuel and salt water. The wind brushes past you, snatching at your hair and ripping your sun hat right off your head. It's hot as it brushes by, providing no relief to the insistent heat.

Your team just laughs as you chase, bedraggled and exhausted, after your hat. The wind pushes you towards the hangars at the end of the tarmac, colossal doors thrown open while rows of jets stand gleaming. For the first time, you think you understand why Jake is so in love with being up in the air in his jet, how close to the elements he must be with adrenaline coursing through his system. You raise the camera resting against your chest, leaving your hat to fly where it wants, because you have to capture this.

When your camera focuses, you start snapping with abandon, capturing the sun-drenched metal and heat waves rising off of the pavement. You’re not sure what pictures the editors will select to go with the article the journalist is going to write. Regardless, you’re stealing the time to take some filler shots now, when it’s bright out still, and blindingly golden outside. Your team is far behind you, still clustered by the cars, as you trail between the shining metal hawks, cockpits closed and emblazoned with names and callsigns. Your heart stutters in your chest when you see his jet, the text dark and fresh, announcing he’s been promoted. So, he's still operating out of Naval Air Station North Island.

Faintly, you can hear voices emanating from one of the open hangars, so you creep closer, your old Canon camera clutched to your chest like it can protect you. Twenty-four of the US Navy's best aviators are saturated in gold, settled in creaking plastic chairs. Jake’s at the podium, laser pointer in hand, completely relaxed as he talks about things you couldn’t understand if you tried. The light glints across his face, catching angelically on the burnished strands of his hair. A singular fluffy lock has broken free of his hair gel’s hold, trailing softly across his forehead. It makes your fingers ache to push it back into place. But you can’t, because you won’t interrupt or embarrass him. So you take pictures instead, breathlessly, silently, framing the aviators limned in gold like they’re deities waiting to go to war.

You’re not sure when it happens, but he sees you - bright green eyes colliding with yours, a nearly imperceptible frown creasing his brow before the skin smooths. He doesn’t look happy to see you. In a way, it makes sense. You were just a one-night stand, something sexy to indulge in - not someone he'd want to keep forever. The look lances through you, skewering you in place as the wind and sun stick your blouse to your back. He doesn’t acknowledge you but for one curiously blank look, and you’re mortified as you walk silently back to your crew, who are now grouped around the jets in awe.

As expected, Adam and Lea, your stylists extraordinaire, are already scribbling away. Lea's flicking through the tablet in her hands. If you were a betting woman, you'd bet good money they are already planning outfits to take advantage of the blue, gold and white theme of North Island.

“Hey, Boss!” Amy, your assistant, is nearly bouncing in place with her excitement. You're not sure how she's so energetic despite the heat and the hours of travel. “Our liaison should be joining us soon. They'll give us a tour of the base and then show us where we'll be setting up shop this week.”

She doesn’t notice how frozen your smile feels and how mechanic your nods are. All you can think about is Jake. He must have known, right? What are the chances he didn’t know you were coming to North Island to take more pictures? There must have been some briefing or notice informing the aviators why you're here. After all, you’re here to photograph the Dagger Squadron. Then why was his face so blank when he saw you earlier? Thinking about him is driving you crazy, but you're not sure you can stop. All you want is to know whether he could ever feel as strongly for you as you do for him.

When your liaison walks up ten minutes later, you’re pleasantly surprised to see you have not one liaison, but two. Neither of your Navy appointed liaisons is Jake, something which you should have expected, but you were still hoping for regardless. Lieutenant Commanders Trace and Floyd are smiling from ear-to-ear as they greet your team by name. Lea and Katie seem especially enthused at seeing the soft-spoken bespectacled WSO again. Lieutenant Commander Trace is her same unflappable, cool, collected self. Her presence and dry sense of humor has you in stitches as you and your team follow behind her like a herd of ducklings. There are familiar faces around what seems like every corner of the base. But none of the faces are the face you still want to see so desperately.

Jake Seresin shows up again as you’re oooh-ing and ahh-ing over the big hanger, burnished yellow, orange, red and pink in the light of the sun. You’ve got your camera up to your face, lips pursed in concentration, eyes squinting as you peer myopically through the viewfinder. It's his voice you hear first. Just hearing it, with the same rough timber, makes you remember what he told you, before you fell into his arms and headfirst into this situation with Jake Seresin.

God, baby. You killed me this morning. Wearing that pretty little skirt and those high heels. I wanted to bend you over and fuck you until you were leaking my cum.

It’s not a good sign, is it? How you’re unable to even look at his face without giving yourself away. The evidence of your feelings must be on your face, which feels uncomfortably hot. The heat is completely unrelated to San Diego's sky-high temperature and you shy away from eye-contact when you pivot and face the rest of your team, and the trio of Lieutenant Commanders. The sight of him hits you in your solar plexus, robbing your breath and leaving your palms uncomfortably clammy.

“Hi.”

It’s a quiet greeting, your voice swallowed by the sight of him. It feels like your tongue is two times bigger than it should be in your mouth, unwieldy as you force it to move like you want it to. He doesn’t hear you, or even acknowledge you standing there waiting for him to notice you. Standing there, you finally realize how big a gulf there is between you and Lieutenant Commander Jake Seresin.

It's a sharp contrast. He's standing there in his khaki uniform crisp and new, blond hair dark at his temples from the shower he must have taken. In contrast, your shirt is covered in wrinkles, your hair is frizzy with flyaways escaping your braid and your worn jeans are butter soft but have definitely seen better days. He ignores you for the rest of the afternoon. It hurts, of course it does, when he doesn’t notice you in the same way you notice him. But you have a job to do. You can’t - you won’t - jeopardize your career for a man, not even a man as beautiful as he is.

The now-trio of Lieutenant Commanders shows you the Officer’s ready room, where you'll be setting up for the interviews. Each member of your team is also given a badge on a lanyard allowing you limited access to certain areas of base. Soon enough, you're left to survey the ready room and prepare your team for the days ahead.

“I know it's been a long day already for you all.” Your smile is a little wry as you continue, “It's been a long day for me too. All I want is to unwind and get out of these heels!”

You let the scattered chuckles from your team peter out before continuing.

“Before I can do so, we need to sync up on what we're going to be focusing on over the next few days.”

“First and foremost on our list? Getting pictures of the Daggers while they are being interviewed. The interviewer is an old friend of Admiral Kazansky's and will be spotlighting each of the Daggers. As a part of the interview, we will be expected to get photos of each member of the squadron in their flight suits, their khaki uniforms and their dress uniforms.”

You raise your hands up to stall any questions. “I'm aware this isn't exactly the type of photo shoot we're used to. Katie, you’ll be on hand to help with their make-up during the interview. We're keeping it light and subtle. For the interview photos, we want the aviator's uniforms and medals to shine.”

“Seb and Kris - the two of you will be measuring the light levels in this room during various times of day and setting up artificial studio lights as necessary. I'll also need you both to check on the lighting situation in the big hangar we were in with the desks and the United States flag on the wall.”

“Adam and Lea, it may not sound like it yet, but I will need you both on your A-games. By special request of Admiral Mitchell, we've been asked to stage a beach bonfire. He wants this interview to echo the beginnings of this squadron. They became a team on the beach and now they are a family. I'm thinking we need cozy textiles and bright winter-toned colors. I'll leave the color palette to you both. All I ask is we have a cohesive palette for the squadron as a whole. As always, measurements for the aviators are included in this dossier. One of the minivans is yours. Our office in San Diego knows to expect you both.”

It doesn’t surprise you at all when Adam and Lea make a beeline for the doors as soon as you’re done with them. You’ve worked with them both long enough to know how they operate. They’ll be downtown and looking through the clothing on display before you can blink.

“Ames, while I run point with the admirals, you'll be sourcing the beachfront we can use for the bonfire. I'm not sure who you'll need permission from, but there might be a bar owner who can give us permission.”

Before long, it feels like you're the only island of calm in the entirety of base. Seb and Kris wander in and out of the room, measuring the light and carting in and out lighting equipment. Even the teleconference you have with the Admirals, both of whom are in Hawaii, due to fly back in a couple of days, goes smoothly.

Over the next few days, you find yourself building on the rapport you created with 6 of the aviators in the Dagger squad in the following days. You also meet the other half of the Dagger Squad. But at the same time you are building a relationship with the other Daggers, it feels like you're losing the relationship you once had with Jake.

The only time you see him during the four days of interviews and pictures is when he is being interviewed. Even then, he spends more time chatting with Amy and Katie than you. Even when you address him directly, he's silent, content to play puppet to your puppet master and then disappearing to an area off base you don't have access to. It hurts, and you’re starting to get weird looks from the other Daggers. They’re all too polite, or too cognizant of their positions in the Navy to ask you any prying questions. At least, until the bonfire.

It hadn’t been difficult to organize at all, in the end. All Amy needed to do was speak to the proprietress of The Hard Deck, a little bar a few miles off base. Penny had been more than happy to hand over the usage of the beach outside her bar for the night. The combination of good food, even better alcohol, and of course, no interviews relaxed the Daggers enough for you to get the candid shots the magazine was looking for. Halos of light spark across your screen with each snap you take - lens flares sparking to life, again and again.

“Why aren’t you hanging out with Jake?”

The question makes you jump and nearly chuck your lens cap into the bonfire. You fumble awkwardly as you try to collect your composure.

“Lieutenant Commander Trace. What can I do for you?”

Your voice is a little shaky as you wheel around and face her.

“You don’t have to do anything for me!” She’s smiling at your discomfort, something wicked curling her lips. “And anyways, didn’t I tell you to call me Natasha three months ago?”

You’re smiling despite yourself at her antics.

“It’s good to see you again, Natasha.”

“Forget about me. Why aren’t you talking to Jake?”

You should have known she wouldn’t be able to let it go.

“Three months ago, you could barely keep your eyes off of him and the same was true of him. He went out of his way to chat you up every chance he got. And now? Something happened between the two of you after we all left the hangar, and now neither of you is talking. You were fine when you showed us the pictures the next day. But now?”

You shrug, lifting your camera up to snap another couple of pictures of the squadron having fun.

“Oh my god. I can’t with the two of you. Either you walk over there and talk to him, or I’m going to get him to talk to you!”

You grab her arm before she can march away.

“I can’t, Natasha.”

You try grabbing for her, but before you can, she’s already gone. His eyes cut over to yours the more she speaks, and you’re not sure you like the way he’s glancing over at you. Your heart is in your throat as he skirts around the bonfire and sidles up to you.

“What are you doing here? Natasha has this crazy idea you’re heads over heels for me, but the way you’ve been acting says differently. So what are you doing here?”

His voice is so quiet you can barely hear it over the crackling bonfire. His face doesn’t change its expression once the entire time he’s speaking to you, barring one tiny, blink-and-you-miss-it smirk. Once again, you have to thank Adam and Lea for their work because the Lieutenant Commander looks good enough to eat in his sweater and butter-soft jeans. But you know he's not happy to see you. The disappearing act he's been pulling ever since he saw you outside the hangar four days ago is proof.

“You know what I’m doing here, Jake.”

“You're taking photos for another article. I know, I know.”

His smirk deepens, eyes twinkling maddeningly as he prowls closer to you.

“But between you and me, it’s just the official excuse, isn't it?” He tugs at a strand of your hair, reeling you closer to him. “But unofficially, I bet you want more of me. Maybe you want to make yourself another home movie? See my handprint on your ass cheeks again?”

His words have heat rising to your face, never mind how your skin already feels too toasty from how you've been huddling near the bonfire all night to keep yourself warm. Form-fitting dresses are not beachwear, especially not in late November. But you’re dressing to impress, wearing sharp blazers and business frocks. Add to the dress the camera and purse you’ve got over your shoulder, and you’re definitely not equipped for the beach.

“How do you know what I want?”

Your voice is thready and light, and your head spins the closer he gets to you. It's weird. You've been aching to have him this close to you all week, but now, when he is actually close to you again, you feel like it's too much, like he's too much. Every night in your hotel room, you've been coaching yourself to ignore him. You’ve had to in order to compartmentalize and be professional while on base. Yet, after only a few minutes in his presence, all your defenses are shredded like tissue paper.

“Because you're looking at me like this.”

Wafts of fragrant wood smoke drift by you and him as you stand mere inches away from each other. You can’t refute his statement. Not even a little bit, not even at all. You've never been able to mask your emotions, wearing your heart on your sleeve and your feelings in the pursed set of your mouth and the raise of your eyebrows. But you’re still not sure what you can say. If he’d propositioned you with the same vulnerable look in his eyes the first day you were in North Island, when he first saw you again, you would have folded like a cheap lawn chair. Then, you probably would have been more than content to pass on your expensive hotel room and make his lonely base apartment a little warmer. But he didn’t, and you’re not sure you can take the risk anymore.

Jake’s shoulders hunch, sinking into the impossibly soft cashmere of the sweater at your lack of response.

“I…” His smirk flattens, something like his Hangman mask taking its place. His shoulders never drop past his ears the longer you stand there with him at arm’s reach and pretend like you’re having a blast at this beach photoshoot turned bonfire party.

“I’ve read this all wrong, haven’t I?”

His sigh is gusty and almost too loud. “I was waiting for you to say something, because I’ve been dying to see you again. But then you ran away when you were taking pictures of the Top Gun class. Afterward, I - I didn’t know how to say I missed you, which is weird, I know. We only knew each other for a singular night.”

If your jaw isn’t on the floor already, you know it will be soon. Already, you’ve been getting too many questioning glances from your team and the Dagger Squadron. Then there is Natasha’s well-meaning meddling from a few minutes ago. Even the admirals have glanced over every once in a while at you and the normally cocky Lieutenant Commander standing in near silence. It’s not a conscious thought which has you whirling around in the silky sand and snagging a hand into his sleeve. You’re not sure why you’re doing it. All you know is if you’re having this out now, you need to have it out in private where it will not be injurious to your career or his.

Thankfully, Jake doesn't fight you as you pull him towards a corner of the parking lot. Your face feels flushed, and your chest heaves with panic at the thought someone could know what you and Jake did.

“I…”

You cover his mouth with your hand, pretending the feeling of his skin on your hands doesn't burn, like you’re not completely aware of the masculine heat emanating from his skin. For several long moments, you stand in the shadows between two pick-up trucks in the parking lot. Each of your muscles is tense, waiting for someone to realize you've disappeared with Jake Seresin, of all people. You don’t want to think about the possibilities they were assuming. The prickling, uneasy sensation doesn't pass with the moments but does fade a little.

“What was that about, huh?”

You just glare in response.

“I thought it was better to have this conversation where we were less likely to be overheard, is all.”

Your voice is prim, and your nose is tipped upward. It's obvious Jake doesn't feel the same way you do about this conversation, if he’s asking you questions like this.

“C'mon, sugar. If you wanted to let me down, you could have just said it by the bonfire. I promise I won't harass you.” His brow is furrowed as he thinks through all the implications of your statement. “Then or now.”

“I…” You fling your hands upwards, feeling this sudden urge to rage at the stars above you. How have things gotten so twisted? In your head and between you and Jake?

“I don't want to let you down, Jake.”

You growl, then, because you know what you feel, but the words aren't coming out of your mouth the right way. He's patiently waiting for you to figure it out, lips pressed into a thin line, and green eyes scorching through you.

“I’m not rejecting you, Jake. When I came to North Island Naval Base and saw you standing in front of the lectern, I wanted you to smile when you saw me. I wanted some indication you felt the same way I did. I also wanted to kiss you, but it wouldn’t have helped then.”

You're smiling again, just a slight curve to your lips, a smile Jake is mirroring.

“Then you pretended I didn't exist. You pretended I was just someone you worked with before. Not someone who you were intimate with. Not someone whose life you changed with your stupid smile and your piercing eyes and your big, gentle hands. I…”

To your embarrassment, you're sniffling and fighting back tears. “I didn't know why, or how to deal with it, so I just pushed back all my feelings. I pretended the same thing you did, and tried to ignore how much it hurt.”

“Fuck.” The quiet expletive echoes around you. “I messed this up, didn't I?”

He's pacing now, back and forth in front of you, shoes sliding through the gravel as he marches. He's ruffling his hair, face scrunched up in anguish at your words.

“I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. I've watched our video so many times, I know my favorite parts. Fuck, sweetheart, I even took the picture of your ass with my handprints on it with me when we were deployed a month ago. I was nearly given so many demerits because of how hot that picture is.”

Your heart seems like it’s going to burst out of your chest, beating as hard as it is.

“So why didn’t you call?” The same plaintive, sad tone is in your voice again.

“What could I have said?” He’s finally stopped pacing back and forth at least. He flings his hands out from his hips “Sweetheart, I want you, I need you. I wish I could fly to New York right now to taste you again?”

You have to snicker at the sarcastic, sardonic note in his voice.

“It’s a little melodramatic, but I would have taken it.”

Just as quickly as you snicker, the laugh peters away into a gentle sigh. “All you had to do was tell me you missed me, Jake. All I wanted was for you to tell me you wanted to see me again.”

“Would it have mattered if I did?”

He’s stepped closer again, close enough you can feel the heat of his skin against yours. One of his big hands cradles your jaw as he looms over you.

“I asked you a question, pretty girl.” There’s a smirk on his face as he ghosts his lips over yours.

“Why would my answer matter then?” You’re not sure where the sass is coming from, but it’s making Jake smirk even more. “Knowing the decision you made?”

Thankfully, you don’t have to think of a response with a brain wholly occupied by the man drawing you into his arms. You melt into the kiss like it's something visceral you've been missing. His hair still feels the same against the pads of your fingers, golden silk, as you wrap your arms around his neck. He still tastes like you remember, too, cinnamon and smoky spice intermingling on your tongue as he licks into your mouth. Your heart sings when he gently positions your camera so it isn’t crushed between the two of you.

You whimper when he pulls away, chasing after his mouth like you're addicted to it. He still kisses like he flies, you note dimly, thoughts far away. The car at your back is cool, the metal searing into your skin as the sun has long since set. But the cold temperature of the car has nothing on the man crowding you up against it. His eyes are lidded, gaze hot as he takes in the sight of you. The dual temperatures are enough to make you shudder.

“Look at you, darling.” His hands are just as hot as his gaze as he trails his hands down your sides. “A single kiss, and you’re aching for me.”

You can’t deny the effects this man has on you. In truth, the time for denial would have been some time before you made the movie at the hangar. You’re so far down this path there isn’t a way to turn back.

“You want me just as much.”

Your voice is quieter than the rush of the waves, yet loud enough you can see the impact as they hit his ears. He’s still just as fit as he was three months ago, all hard, hot muscle as he presses up against you, cedar and plum wafting through the air off his skin. You can feel the jut of him against your hip as he muscles you even further against the car, spreading you out like a meal he wants to eat. He transfixes you with a glare when he pulls away, even as he smirks at your breathy moan. You watch, eyes lidded, as he opens the truck door and sets your things on the broad seat. You’re panting with need when he comes back to you, body shivering as he leans into you again. His hands find their home against the curve of your waist, fingers still nimble as they focus on tracing your curves in a way which might be driving you just a little mad. You almost wish you were wearing a blouse and skirt again like last time, because at least then you could feel his hands spread across your ribcage, searing their heat into your bones.

You’re lost in him, utterly captivated by the way his tongue tangles with yours, the way he makes you moan. Unlike the rough, claiming kisses of your first sexual encounter with Jake Seresin, these kisses are tender and sweet. They’re searching and tasting, like he’s trying to learn what makes you tick and what makes you moan. In truth, it feels like he’s trying to take you apart only to put you together again. This time, you’re not sure you’ll ever be the same, forever changed by the man in your arms.

“Fuck…” The word is an exhale pressed to your pulse-point, sticky, sweet, and blindingly hot. “Baby, let me take you somewhere other than this dusty, dirty parking lot. I think I really need to see you spread out on my bed this time.”

“Yes, please.” The words leave you in a strung out moan as you tug him closer, fisting your hands in his hair and sweater as you see fit. You’re past caring so long as he’s pressed so perfectly against you.

When he finally steps back from you, you’re gratified to see he looks just as rumpled and debauched as you feel. For a few moments, you stand there, drinking him in, hands aching to draw him close again, to touch him again. He takes your hand, entwining his fingers and yours. His hand dwarfs yours, skin slightly rough as his hand cradles yours. You let him lead you to the truck and help you in, because a part of you isn’t sure you’re going to be able to let him go even when you have to.

It’s silent, but for the sounds of the road as he starts his pickup, one hand never leaving its spot on your thigh. Your hands find the camera again, snapping with abandon the vista blurring past the windows and the man driving you. The streetlights halo through the lens view, speckling the pictures with circles of golden-butter light. It seems like time slips past in a slow trickle. You’re still looking through the camera when the engine cuts off, the sounds of the night trickling slowly back into your ears.

Jake’s eyes sear through you when you carefully gather your camera and bag up, legs shaky from that look alone as you step onto the pavement. His hand finds yours again, as you follow his broad back up a flight of stairs and through an unassuming white paneled front door. You’re surrounded by the cedar and plum of his cologne as you step in, the scent lightly drifting through the air. Jake crowds you against the door as soon as it closes, hands divesting you of your things even as his mouth slants over yours again. The heat sparking between you ignites again, a flame bursting to life in your chest, fed by the soft moans leaving his lips as you kiss him with wild abandon.

For much of the way to his bed, your eyes are closed. You trust Jake to lead you the right way, not to hurt you as you stumble and shudder your way through the apartment in his arms. His lips don’t leave yours once, moans ripping out of your mouth as he leaves you breathless. He’s far from quiet too, softly grunting when you tug on the hair at the nape of his neck, gasping open mouthed into yours as you rub at his bulge. Arousal bubbles in your veins, crashing over and through you. You squeal when he pushes you onto his bed, the mattress so firm it's almost hard as you bounce against it. Your hands shake as you fight with your clothes. Adrenalin makes you clumsy as you nudge your shoes off and fight futilely with the zipper at your back. Eventually you give up, choosing to lean back on your palms. When you look up, Jake’s staring down at you, eyes trailing from the curve of your mostly exposed legs up to your chest and back down again. He’s got his lower lips between his teeth, brow furrowed as he shrugs the sweater off.

Once again, you remind yourself to thank Lea for her work, because if you thought the shirt looked good buttoned up, it looks even better as it slips off his arms. He’s still wearing his dog tags, the silver chain glinting in the moonlight through the windows as he prowls over you.

“You’re still prettier than the pictures you take, baby.”

You feel like you are barely breathing as Jake licks into your mouth. The heat of his body grounds you, the points of contact just enough to tell you this is real.

“Breathe, beautiful.” His hands draw you up until you’re kneeling on the bed, your hands on his shoulders as you peer up into his eyes. Your resulting exhale is shaky as you drag in breaths with just enough oxygen to keep your head from spinning.

“Let’s get you out of this pretty dress, huh?”

“Jake.” His name falls out of your mouth like a prayer. His hands are practiced, sure as they drag the zipper down from the nape of your neck to the base of your spine. The fabric of your dress gapes forward until it’s around your waist.

Jake's eyes seem to glow in the moonlight as he takes in the simple black bra you're wearing, hands tender and hot as they drag over your bare skin, mouth wet and sharp as he drags his teeth across your collar bones.

“Mmm, baby.” His moan has you gasping, your body listing into his as he purrs the words into your skin. “I'm going to make you feel so good.”

When he lets go of you, your nipples are firm peaks in the cool air. When he removed your bra, you're not sure. All you know is you want him, desperately, urgently. Your panties feel like too much material as they cling to you, the gusset damp. Your hands are clumsy as you wrench the dress off, shaking as you peel your panties away from your skin, you flush as Jake's chuckles echo in your ears.

Divested of your clothes, you're faced with one of the prettiest sights of your life. Because, Jake’s standing there, with his belt unbuckled, and the jeans unbuttoned. His cock bulges out through the v-shaped opening, and your mouth waters as you look him over.

“God, Jake, please.” Your voice is a whine as you reach for him, fingers resting against his taut abdomen, back arched as you wait on all fours.

“I’ve got you baby.”

His promises drip over your bare skin like hot and gentle summer rain. Your eyes close as he cups your jaw, the rustle of fabric foretelling his bare skin joining yours on the bed. You let him position you where he wants, drugged by the sensations of his big hands. You steal the opportunity to kiss him again, palms splayed over his pecs, and the cool chain of his dog tags brushing against your fingers. Falling into him is too easy. It’s just a series of kisses, a sweet tangle of tongues as you let him cradle you in his arms. Sparks of need, of want traverse your moon-stained skin, hips canting against his thigh in need.

“How long has it been since you’ve cum, sweetheart?”

There’s amusement in his tone as you wrap your arms around his neck, breasts pillowed against his chest as you nudge his nose with your own.

“Just a couple of days ago.”

His chuckle makes you pout.

“And how did you cum?”

He rolls you over, ghosting a kiss over your lips as he peers down at you. “Was it some guy you brought home? Who didn’t know how to make these pretty moans spill out of your mouth? Did he make you think of me the whole time?”

When you moan, it’s because he’s pressing into you, the stretch of him making your toes curl.

“N-no.” You screw your eyes up, trying to string the words together. “It was just me. With a vibrator, watching our video.”

“Fuck, there’s my good girl. Waiting for your Lieutenant Commander to make you scream, right?”

You’re so far beyond words all you can do is tug him down, fisting your hand in his hair until you can kiss him again. He’s just as eager to pull you in, hitching your legs up until they’re propped over his arms, keeping you spread open as he pistons his hips until you see stars.

“Please, please, please.”

You’re babbling, your orgasm crashing over you with each sharp thrust. Your moans intertwine with Jake’s guttural grunts as his hips stutter at their steady pace. It feels like you’ve been set on fire when you cum, pulsing waves of heat washing over your body. Jake’s shivering as he slumps over you, blanketing your body with his. His hair is sweat-damp as you card your fingers through the fluffy strands.

“Missed you, Jay.”

“Missed you too, sweetheart.” The words are languid and soft, syrupy and sweet.

It feels like you could fall in love with Lieutenant Commander Jake Seresin as he gathers you in his arms for what must be the hundredth time tonight to clean you up. Every glimpse of the man you see when he's not putting on his Hangman mask intrigues you more. There's a gentleness to him when he's like this, a secret softness shining past his imposing exterior. You want to know more. You have to know more.

The realization of how little time you have left with Jake eviscerates you. Only two days left. Two days to love this man as much as you can. You can’t tell him how close you are to falling for him. Looking at his apartment, you have a feeling it would just scare him away. His apartment is almost austere, the off-white walls blending into the pale cream carpet on the floor. Everything is bare, with no pictures on the walls and no personality. It’s a trend throughout the entire space, everywhere but the bedroom. There's a cheery quilt at the foot of the bed. It's the only vibrant color in the apartment, the one thing which screams home.

“It's pathetic, isn't it?” You jump at his words, gripping at the footboard of the bed in an effort to keep from falling.

“It's not pathetic, Jay. Just…” You turn, clad in the soft tee he'd pulled over you after the shower. “Just different than I expected.”

“I know what it looks like, sweetheart.” The same sad soft tone is in his voice again. “It looks like I don’t have any roots. Like I’m scared to let people in.”

He slides his arms around your waist, pressing a kiss on your shoulder, his golden hair dripping as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. “Maybe that is the truth.”

Your heart breaks a little at the soft surety in his voice, even as he does his best impression of a koala around you.

“Because like it or not, I’m going to leave one day. I’ll have to leave one day. Another deployment. Another mission. And chances are, I may not be coming home.”

You clutch at him tighter, because right now, you’re not sure you can think about him not being in San Diego the next time you’re here.

“I was okay with my reality.”

When you wrestle your way out of his grip, you’re maybe a little too rough, evidenced by the grimace on his face as you walk away. You’re not sure where you’re going but away has to be enough. You’re not sure you can face him after he’s said something like this. After all, here you are, ready to risk it all in a sultry cross-country romance, ready to give your heart to him, possibly years of your life to him. Then there he is, admitting so callously he might not be coming home one day.

You’re staring unseeingly at the stars when he slides his arms around you again.

“Are you okay, Shutterbug?”

You lean back into him, because he feels perfect against you still.

“Shutterbug is new.” You’re trying to change the subject, because if he’s insistent about it, you’re going to explode.

“Nuh-uh.” His hands turn you around until you’re looking at him again. “Tell me what’s bothering you, pretty girl.”

“You’re so callous about how you’re ready to never come home again! Why would you say that to me, Jake? I’m ready to risk everything for you. A cross-country relationship, half here, half in New York or really, wherever it’s convenient for us to meet. If you’re not willing to do the same, then what is the point of what we just did?”

You’re choking back a sob as you stand in front of him. Your eyes are screwed closed, hands wringing the hem of the t-shirt clothing you.

“Why does it matter that you missed me, and that I missed you?”

“It matters, because, sweetheart, you didn’t let me finish what I was going to say.”

Your arms wrap around his waist easily as he tugs you closer.

“I was going to say, I was okay never coming home before you. You’ve been running around in my head, the center of every thought, the subject of my every dream for three months. You kept me going when we were deployed, too. All I wanted was to come home safe so I could fly out to New York and see you again.”

“Now, at least I know I’ll be welcome when I come by.”

You’re smiling from ear to ear as you kiss the underside of his jaw.

“Yeah, you will be.”

You're still smiling as you walk into the Officer's Ready Room at North Island the next morning. You've got the same swagger you had in your step the first time you and Jake crashed together. Only this time, you have his phone number on your phone and the promise of a romantic dinner for two tonight. You'd be lying if you said you weren't still worried about the long distance relationship, spending half your life in New York and half here. But more than anything, you're ready for the challenge and excited to. At least you know who you're going home to - and, he knows who he is coming home to, as well.

Taglist:

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I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN ON AO3, ON WATTPAD, OR ON TUMBLR BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN AO3, ON WATTPAD, OR TUMBLR, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

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whateverloomis · 4 months

Note

I just came up with a good idea for a prompt. So basically #5 on the list but maybe make it a vampire AU?

Essentially everything’s the same with Billy and Stu but the only difference is they are both vampires. Like a vampire Ghostface 👀

And only because I enjoy it, extra bloody 🩸

Anon, this idea is crazy and I absolutely love it. Buckle up because this one is a wild ride 😈

Prompt: "Is that... Blood?"

Warnings: Reader has pre-determined clothing, reader has pre-determined desires and likings, AFAB reader, SMUT, period sex, BLOOD, and lot's of it, lot's of juicy plot, teasing, vampire bites, infidelity, making out, some Stully action, unedited. If I missed anything else lmk!

Reader: They/them pronouns (highlighted in bold,) AFAB

Word count: 5k (I went insane with this one, okay?)

It was bad enough with Casey Becker and Steve Orth getting murdered, now there's reports of people disappearing and found dead, bitten in multiple parts of their bodies and completely drained.

The police says that the bite marks weren't big enough to fit the description of maybe a bear or wolf. Neither of those animals drain the blood out of their pray either, which automatically discards them from the suspected killer creature. The case was more complicated than it sounded. It wasn't as simple as to pin it on a random animal and call it a day, those were serious murders and the amount of people that were disappearing from Woodsboro was alarming.

Some people started speculating and coming up with crazy theories. Sending in reports with the descriptions of some kind of a specific white mask that looked like a ghost, but it was decorated with fangs in it's mouth. There were also reports of two individuals spotted running around fields at unnatural speeds.

It was easy to come up with those kinds of things. People were desperate for an answer. Losing a loved one and knowing that others were at risk was terrifying. It was understandable, but complete insanity at the same time. The town seemed to be going collectively crazy.

"What if there are vampires out there... It sounds crazy but there have been reports of very similar cases in many other places outside of Woodsboro." Tatum questioned, that time around sounding more serious than previous. Randy scoffed at her comment and stood up. It looked like he was going to tell a speech or something.

"Listen, this started off as a typical slasher movie and now we're mixing Dracula with it? C'mon guys! It doesn't make sense! It's like believing aliens exist or something-" - "Aliens do exist man, I saw a UFO once. It was insane." Stu added and Randy looked at him in disbelief of his stupidity level. "This isn't a game, Stu. I bet you were high as fuck when you saw it." - "Correction, I was drunk, therefore no hallucinating was involved. It was definitely a UFO." Stu said, 100% convinced.

"I believe you, Stu." you answered and Stu pointed at you. "Hah, see?!" Stu said excitedly and you laughed softly, clearly leading the boy on to mess with Randy.

"YN, you're not helping my case here." Randy said and you shrugged, rolling your eyes playfully. "Listen, going back to the main topic here. These murders are definitely strange. Bite marks? And they don't even seem like it was an animal that made them? Something's off." You said, "Plus it'd be kinda hot to have vamps running around." you continued. "I second that." Tatum said with a smirk on her face.

Billy and Stu looked at each other, devious smiles on their faces that only you saw. Billy quickly shot a glare at you and you looked away, sudden goosbumps taking over your body.

"You're insane. If you guys want to be delusional and believe that nonsense go ahead, but there's a logical explanation to this. I just need more time to figure it out." Randy said and Billy sighed, annoyed at the boys rambling. "That's nice and all, but I have a class to attend." - "Billy, you're like 15 minutes late." Sidney said, slightly concerned at his carelessness. He looked at her and gave her a quick kiss, reassuring her that it's not a big deal.

You felt a pang of jealousy at the sight.

Billy's a player. He had been cheating on Sidney for months with you and he even told you that he didn't have feelings for Sidney anymore. He admitted that he was developing feelings for you and you were definitely falling for him too, but it was complicated. Billy kept telling you he couldn't break it off with Sid because she was hurt and vulnerable because of her mother's death. That he needed to find the right time, but it was starting to affect you emotionally. The pain was overwhelming at times and Billy had promised you he wouldn't display any form of affection towards Sidney in front of you. That promise was broken. He walked past you and gave you a loving stare. Despite the hurt you couldn't help but feel the overwhelming love that radiated from him.

Then there was Stu. You also had a relationship with him behind Tatum's back. She had dated your ex for a while after he cheated on you and broke your heart, so you hooked up with Stu as revenge, but things escalated and even if the feelings weren't nearly as strong as they were for Billy there was definitely something developing.

All three of you knew about each other and it had slowly become a triangle. It was a complicated mess, but it was yours and you didn't plan on breaking it off any time soon.

The boys didn't display any kind of behavior that revealed their truth. That revealed that they were vampires. They had been feeding non-stop, (hence the multiple murders,) to keep themselves calm and collected around you. It was very difficult at times, though. You smelled so sweet and they had been tempted multiple times to taste you. Relish in your sweet blood and make you theirs forever. It consumed them at times, but they couldn't ruin your life like that. Having eternal life wasn't a choice for both of them and it was difficult at times to process that reality. They didn't want to do anything to hurt you, yet they needed you. It was painful. It was torture.

•

"He broke a promise Stu, a promise is a promise." you explained as the boy listened carefully. As you spoke about how hurt you were about Billy kissing Sidney in front of you, Stu was trying to figure out how to comfort you without exposing his and Billy's plan about killing Sidney Prescott, and much less them being vampires.

"I understand that you're upset baby but you know he'd never do anything to intentionally hurt you. He loves you, YN." - "I just don't understand why he can't break it off with Sidney already. They're nothing at this point." You replied instantly and Stu sighed, seeming defeated. "It's a complicated subject YN, you know this. I can't speak for Billy, but I can guarantee that he's handling this the right way. The kiss was clearly to calm her down and not have her after his ass bitching about being 15 minutes late to class. You know how it is, hm?" He said as he scanned your face. You looked at his blue eyes and couldn't help but get lost in them. It was as if there was some kind of force convincing you that you were overreacting. That you needed to be patient, even if you had been feeling it decrease rapidly.

"You're right." The words slipped right out of your mouth, almost as if you didn't even think about saying them. You just spoke. "I know he wouldn't hurt me on purpose I just..." You stopped yourself. You felt greediness consume you. Felt selfish about what you wanted to admit to your boyfriend, but you needed to let it out. "C'mon babe, you can talk to me." Stu said, his voice soft despite his usual goofy nature. "I just want him to myself already. Sidney doesn't deserve him, all she does is bitch at him over her mother and think about herself. I think about him. Care about him. About you. About us." You said and tried your hardest to keep the tears from falling out of your eyes. You hated how vulnerable you were at the moment, but you also knew Stu was there for you. He loved you even if you had a completely different relationship with him.

Stu let out a breathy laugh and cupped your face. He gave you a lingering kiss and ran his hand down your arm soothingly. "You have us, YN. Stop worrying so much. Everything will fall in place sooner than you think." He reassured and you smiled at him softly. Despite him being an ass and goof ball, Stu was easy to talk to and so magnetic. You couldn't get enough of him. "Now c'mon, let's go meet up with Randy and Tatum, we don't want them thinking we were making out or something." He said suggestively, a smirk adorning his face. You rolled your eyes playfully and smacked his arm, "Later, I'm still sad." - "Ugh, fine." Stu replied and walked away with you, spanking your ass along the way.

•

After having an impromptu hang out at the mall with Stu, Tatum and Randy that day, you felt a bit better about the incident with Billy. It was only a temporary fix that lasted until you got to your dorm though.

After a few hours of trying to distract yourself with assignments and reading, your emotions started to consume you once more. You sat on your bed with a few movie tapes in your hands to choose from, and of course they were horror movies. They provided a strange sense of comfort and also reminded you of Billy and all those nights you watched scary movies those first few days of your relationship, ending up tangled between the sheets. You couldn't get enough of each other.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn't realize Billy was knocking on your window. You looked at him in surprise and set the tapes down on your dresser before opening the window for him.

"Hey." He whispered before letting himself in. You closed the window and shut the curtains before turning around to face him. "What are you doing here?" You asked firmly and Billy gave you a confused look. "What am I... What's wrong?" He asked, immediately sensing that you were upset. "You know what's wrong." You said and walked past him. Billy followed you with his eyes, your delicious scent hitting his nose immediately. You were fertil and he knew it was going to be difficult to pay attention to your words, but he had to try. For you. For your relationship. "I don't, can you explain what happened? Please?" He asked, fully attentive. You sat on the edge of the bed and he followed your actions, sitting next to you. His thigh touched yours and he was searching for your eyes desperately.

"You kissed Sidney in front of me today." You explained and looked at him seriously. Billy widened his eyes, concern written all over his face. "Fuck... Baby, I'm. I didn't realize, I wasn't thinking ab-" - "Yeah, exactly. That's the problem. You weren't thinking about it." You interrupted and stood up, facing him. "Do you even care about the things that I say to you? It was a simple request. You said it wouldn't be complicated yet you-" You stopped yourself, exhaling to try and calm yourself. Your heart rate was accelerating and Billy could hear the blood pumping in your veins. His pupils dilated slightly at the realization but he couldn't let himself act on any urges. He had to stay focused. "YN, please. You're the only person I care about. Your words are the only ones that matter to me-" - "Well you sure aren't acting like it, Loomis. It sure seemed like you wanted to kiss h-" - "Don't go there." Billy interrupted, sudden anger taking over him. "I love you and only you. I only want you. I just have to keep Sidney in the loop a bit longer, and I didn't want her on my case s-" - "So you used it as a distraction. Yeah, Stu explained it to me." You finished his sentence and he bit his lip in thought. "You went to Stu about this?" He asked, you couldn't detect any emotions coming from him along with the question. "Yes. I was upset and angry. I didn't want to talk to you because I knew I'd end up arguing, which would've made this whole situation worse." Billy nodded and stood up, towering over you. "I'm sorry baby, it won't happen again." He said softly and placed his hand on your cheek. "You have every right to be mad, and if you need space I understand completely, just tell me what you need, okay? I can't stand knowing that you're mad at me." he continued and placed his hand on your neck, running his thumb over your pulse point. He felt the throb of your vein and closed his eyes to contain himself before moving his hand down your arm. "I don't need space, Billy. I need you to keep your promises. I need you to show me that you really care." You said and he exhaled softly. "I do care," the boy paused and sat down on the edge of your bed again, pulling you towards him. "And i'll make it up to you, okay?" He continued and pulled you, sitting you on his lap. "I'll even go to Stu's stupid party tomorrow, and when everyone leaves it'll be just us three, nobody else." Billy finished and kissed your nose. You couldn't help but smile and kiss his lips softly. It had been a while since the three of you spent time together with nobody else around. You missed it. Missed them. "Okay, deal." You whispered before kissing him again, prolonging it.

Billy felt like he was gonna go insane with you on his lap, kissing him like you were. You tasted so sweet on his tongue, your touch felt electric and he swore that he could've came just by you grinding against his hard cock. He had to feed or else he was going to hurt you.

As much as he wanted to fuck you and devour you, Billy had to control himself. He came up with a cheap excuse to leave your room that night and fed on one of the girls from your dorm. The poor woman was walking towards the building alone, and Billy launched at her. He practically dragged her to the back of the building and pinned her against the wall, brutally biting her neck with his sharp K9s, drinking her dry in a matter of minutes. The last thing she saw was a white ghost face mask with fangs before he left her there. Another corpse to be found the next day that was sure to create more drama in the news.

•

"Samantha?! I literally saw her that night before she left to the drive in." You told Tatum who broke the news about another one of the many bodies that were found drained that weekend. You remembered that Billy left at around the same hour the incident happened. You thought maybe he had seen something. That he could provide some useful information so you met Billy at the benches behind the college campus, which was very secluded and gave him a soft smile when you saw him walking towards you. "Hey." You said, your tone soft and sweet. Billy smirked at you and placed his hand on your hip, "Hey baby." he greeted and kissed you tenderly. "Did you hear about Samantha?" You asked him, worry coating your words. Billy visibly stiffed but kept his cool with his facial expressions. "No, what happened?" He asked, expertly pretending that he was clueless. "She got killed the same day you came over to talk... I was just wondering if you saw something when you left. We weren't friends or anything but... Billy, I'm kinda scared." You admitted and he frowned, pulling you into a comforting hug. If only you knew he was trying to keep you safe. To keep you alive and well. To keep your love for each other growing. "I'm not gonna let anything happen to you, you hear me? Nothing." He said firmly. You pulled away and looked at his eyes. He was dead serious and you immediately felt comfort. You knew Billy would do anything for you, just like you would do anything for him. You thought back to that night when he suggested you guys staying over at Stu's, and with the incident it seemed like it was the best option for everyone.

"Awh, look at you love birds." Stu said walking towards you guys. "Keep it down, would you?" Billy said, annoyed at his friend being so verbally open. "Oh c'mon, it's just us here, lighten up." Stu replied and hugged you from behind. You looked at him over your shoulder and he kissed you. "That's my baby." He cood and you couldn't help but giggle at his words. Billy stood there in front of you guys, his eyes roaming your body and observing how you behaved with Stu. He couldn't deny that he liked seeing you two being so affectionate with each other. "You want a kiss too?" Stu asked Billy teasingly and the boy rolled his eyes, annoyance written on his face. "Take a hike." he said and Stu laughed. "I love you too."

You laughed at their interaction. Stu was undeniably attracted to Billy but the boy was hard to read. Your relationship kept growing by the minute and you wouldn't be surprised if they ended up having some kind of dynamic in the future.

"You guys coming to my fiesta tonight?" Stu asked and Billy raised at eyebrow. "Yeah, we're staying over." He said, pointing at you and then at himself. Inviting you without a care. "Well shit, okay." Stu said teasingly, releasing a breathy laugh. Billy smirked then looked at you. Tension was surrounding the air around you and you blushed as a consequence.

•

Stu's house was packed. There were people you didn't even recognize hanging out and you were determined to go to the pool to avoid as many people as you could.

As you approached the back doors that lead to your desired destination, Tatum, Stu and Sidney were already in the pool, close to the steps. Stu and Tatum were in the water trying to convince Sidney to get all the way in as she complained about it being too cold.

"Mind if I join?" You asked, already taking your cover up dress off. You had a blood red colored bikini on that hugged your body perfectly. Your tits were on display, the slightest bit of under boob was visible and the cheeky bottoms made your ass pop out.

"Looking hot YN, you're gonna have to tell me where you got that bikini later." Tatum said, a genuine smile on her face. Despite her dirty move with your ex she was an honest girlie, which you appreciated despite your resentment. "You've got that right babe." Stu answered and stuck his tongue out. Tatum rolled her eyes playfully, not knowing that her boyfriend's usual flirting wasn't casual in the slightest.

You dipped your toes and widened your eyes. "What the fuck guys, the water is cold." you agreed with Sidney and sat next to her, trying to get half of your body used to the temperature first. "Oh c'mon guys! Get in!" Tatum shouted and pulled Sidney by her legs, the girl releasing a yelp before sliding all the way in the pool. Stu walked towards you and picked you up by the waist and over his shoulder, walking deeper into the water. "No! Stop it!" You said playfully and Stu released you, the cool water hugged your body and the shock of temperature felt good in a torturous way. As you floated up, you took a deep breath and hit Stu on his bicep playfully. "Asshole." - "Oh don't be a cry baby." He said and you rolled your eyes. "Hey, where's Billy?" You whispered at the boy and he smirked at you, "Mmm you want him to see you in this little bikini of yours?" Stu replied teasingly and played with the straps of your top. You smiled teasingly and flicked his hand. "Relax, he's getting us some beer from the garage."

A few minutes later Billy walked out with a six pack in his hands. "There's my booyy, and he brought just enough for everyone." Stu cheered and winked at you. The girls walked out to grab their drinks and you followed them. "Can you get me mine babe?" Stu asked, staying behind. "Seriously?" - "C'mooon" He begged, and you couldn't deny him when he was being that cute and whiny.

The girls grabbed their bottles first and you followed second. Walking towards Billy you smirked at him as he shamelessly looked at you from head to toe. "Fuck, baby... Are you trying to kill me tonight?" He whispered and you let out a breathy laugh. "Mm, who knows? Maybe I'm the vampire." You said teasingly and Billy laughed at your dark comment. You winked at him before grabbing two beer bottles and approached the edge of the pool where Stu was. You sat on the floor, dipping your feet in. The boy grabbed the bottle from your hands and took a swing.

Suddenly, he got the sweetest smell from you. A faint musk to it as well. He looked at Billy to see if he also detected it but the boy was making small talk with Tatum and Sidney.

"So, is Randy around?" You asked Stu and he shook his head slightly before taking another swing of his beer to ground himself. "Yeah, he's inside watch..." he suddenly stopped talking and looked between your legs. A small amount of blood and water pooled between them. "Is that... Blood?" Stu asked, his pupils dilated slowly. "What... Oh my God..." You looked between your legs. You got your period early. "Fuck..." You whispered and moved subtly reaching for the towel on the chair behind you. Stu felt like he was getting intoxicated by your delicious aroma. He felt his fangs starting to grow and he wasn't sure if he was going to be able to control himself. Luckily, you picked up the towel in time to wrap it around you and excuse yourself.

Stu made eye contact with Billy. He also knew. When you walked past him his pupils started to dilate as well, but he had much more control than Stu when it came to the urge of tasting you. Billy made his way to Stu and crouched down in front of him. "Get ahold of yourself, we can't risk getting caught, you understand?" He whispered, aggression lacing his words. Stu sighed and looked up in defeat. "Man, how the fuck are we gonna be able to resist if they're going to sleep over tonight?" Stu asked, desperation slowly overwhelming him. "We'll figure it out later, okay? Just keep it in your pants for now." Billy replied and glared at him before stepping inside the house to make sure you were okay.

•

You stepped out of the shower after excusing yourself for the rest of the party. Billy was constantly checking up on you until everyone left and all three of you were finally alone.

You put on leak safe underwear since you preferred to free bleed, and one of Stu's sweaters which covered your body perfectly, given your size difference.

When everyone finally left the house, you went down stairs to look for the boys and help clean up the after party mess. To your surprise, Billy and Stu had taken care of everything. You wondered how long it took them to finish everything, it hadn't been long since you heard the music stop playing and the sweet silence of the absence of the herd of people that were drowning the house.

In the kitchen, Billy and Stu were talking quietly. You couldn't make out a single word they were saying, so you assumed they thought you were fast asleep and didn't want to wake you up.

You barely took a few steps in the room and their eyes were already on you. They seemed darker than usual.

"Hey baby, how you feeling?" Billy was the first to speak. He walked towards you slowly and placed his hand on your cheek. "I'm fine, I just didn't want to be around people." You answered.

The vibes were off. The boys were strangely quiet and mellow. Their gazes were intense and their eyes didn't look the same as they usually did. They were scanning your body like hungry animals and you were starting to get a little bit freaked out.

"Why is everyone acting weird? I just got my period a day early, it's not a big deal. Seriously." You said, starting to get kind of annoyed at their strange behavior and lack of words.

"You see, that's what you don't understand YN, it is a big deal." Stu said and started to move towards you almost as if he were hunting a prey. "Stu." Billy said in a warning tone.

You took a step back and swallowed thickly. Your breathing picked up.

"You smell so sweet and it's driving me insane." Stu said and you gave him a confused stare. What did he mean by that? "And you know what? I don't care anymore." He continued and his eyes turned completely black. You gasped at the sight. Confusion was the only thing going through your head. Fear, but intrigue at the same time. Stu bit his lower lip before smiling, and there it was. Fangs. "What the fu-" you attempted to run but Billy held you from behind, moving you quickly so you ended up behind him. He was shielding you with his large frame. "Stu, for the love of fuck, get ahold of yourself!" the boy said and you held his arm from behind. "Does he want to kill me?" You asked and he turned around quickly. Stu seemed to calm down when he heard your words. "No baby, we would never hurt you. He just-" Billy paused and looked at Stu over his shoulder before meeting your eyes. "Wants to taste you... Your blood." You looked at him with curiosity in your eyes. What would it be like to be bitten by a vampire? "Would you guys... Kill me if I let you?" You asked and Billy's pupils instantly dilated, his eyes turning completely black just like Stu's. The fear you felt mixed with excitement. You felt an energy shift with them like this. Wild and ready to pounce. It was risky. It was crazy, and you wanted it.

"Taste me." You said, and that was it.

Stu walked towards you and picked you up, his big hands around your waist. He sat you on the counter and stood between your legs. He could smell your arousal mixed with the blood between your legs and groaned. "Finally." He whispered and moved your head to the side softly. You bit your lip and prepared for the unknown pain you were about to experience.

Stu licked and kissed your neck a few times before digging his fangs in your flesh. You released a high pitched moan. The pain was pleasurable. You felt your blood run down your neck and over your chest.

Billy was leaning against the counter close to the both of you. A smirk on his face and his cock impossibly hard against his jeans. The sight of Stu savoring you excited him more than he thought it would. He bit his lip and hissed, his fangs fully displayed with the action.

Stu took the sweater off your body, exposing your bloody tits to both of them and Billy couldn't take it anymore. He walked towards you and Stu moved to the side, opening your legs more so Billy could be in front of you as well. He took another bite below Stu's mark and groaned at your taste. He licked the stripe of blood that ran down your chest and moaned. Stu joined him and lapped at the fluid as well. Their tongues touched occasionally against your skin and you were going insane. You moaned and whined at the sight of your vampire boyfriends tasting you.

Billy desperately took your underwear off and tossed them somewhere on the kitchen floor. He inhaled sharply and moaned at your scent. Stu slid down between your legs under Billy and licked your bloody cunt. Billy kissed you desperately as the boy between your legs moaned against your center.

You were tasting yourself on Billy's tongue, a metallic and somewhat sweet flavor palette. You were so turned on that you didn't even care about the fact that you were practically consuming your own blood from your boyfriends mouth.

Stu dipped his long tongue inside you and you arched your back at the feeling. Billy couldn't handle not being between your legs eating you up so he slid down your body and positioned himself next to Stu. They both licked your clit and savored your cunt like it was their last meal. The sight of them touching tongues while pleasuring you was enough to send you over the edge. You came the hardest you've ever experienced. The wave of pleasure was so overwhelming that another mini orgasm washed over your body right after. You were practically screaming at that point but they weren't done with you yet.

Both of them stood up and pulled you down from the counter by your legs. You crashed against Billy and he pinned you against the fridge. He kissed you with passion and rubbed your clit a few times before finger fucking you. "Fuck, fuck... Please! Just fuck me already!" You moaned and he unbuttoned his jeans quickly, picking you up. You wrapped your legs around his torso and he spun around, leaning against the fridge. You felt Stu grab your waist to keep you steady while he unbuttoned his pants. Suddenly, Billy slipped inside you all the way in. The lubrication your blood provided created the perfect slide and the pleasure was intense as well. Billy started thrusting at a steady pace and moaned in your ear while he held you close.

Stu inserted his cock inside you a few minutes later after making sure you were stretched enough for him. Your boyfriends filled your hole deliciously and your moans filled the room. There was blood and arousal running down your thighs. You were a mess and felt like you were going to pass out any moment from the loss of blood and the intense pleasure you were receiving.

Billy and Stu lapped at the blood dripping down from your neck once again and moaned in unison. They couldn't handle it anymore and came inside you, filling you up with their seed. They rode their highs inside you before pulling out. Stu released you and you leaned against Billy.

"You okay?" Billy asked, his voice husky against your ear. You let out a breathy laugh and bit your lower lip. "I need a shower" You replied, energy drained from your body.

"Let's go." Billy whispered and Stu carried you up the stairs.

#billy loomis smut #billy loomis x you #scream (1996)#billy loomis x reader #ghostface smut #ghostface x reader #ghostfacesmut #stu macher smut #stu macher x billy loomis #stu matcher x reader

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koji-haru · 1 month

Text

Time Travel AU Part: 9

Lucifer slithered between the blades of grass, his small stature masking his presence. Memories from last night flashed within his mind. Those golden eyes, standing out in the darkness, challenging him like a defiant flame. It was on. Lucifer might have initially investigated out of concern and duty (and maybe some revenge), but now his pride was at stake. He was challenged by Adam, and he was not about to back down. He was never too fond of the first man anyway. He was arrogant, acting like he knew better than both him and Lilith. Adam needed to be knocked down a peg or two, and Lucifer was more than happy to oblige.

First stop was the tree of knowledge of good and evil. Judging from his behaviour, Lucifer was sure Adam had eaten the fruit from the tree. He just had to look for evidence that the tree was tampered with. Signs of a plucked fruit, or leftover from the bitten fruit. Luckily for him, the fruit never rots nor does the tree close its wounds subtly. Signs that a fruit was taken should be obvious to the eye and easy to prove. Honestly, it was almost too easy.

When Lucifer navigated towards the tree, he was confident of his chances. However, once he arrived, that confidence quickly waned. What greeted him was the tree of knowledge of good and evil in all of its pristine glory. The atmosphere was still, the grass was tall and wildly growing. It was as if the area was stuck in time, untouched by the life outside of its bubble. There was no sign that anyone had been here since the garden was made. Lucifer shook his head. There was no way Adam hadn’t eaten the forbidden fruit. This was just a first impression, and he needed to have a closer inspection. Adam may have covered his tracks well enough, but Lucifer could be meticulous when needed.

Lucifer made his way towards the tree, up its bark, along its many branches. He turned every leaf, inspected every fruit, looked for stubs, even searched amongst the grass for any drop of evidence. And nothing. He looked over everything once more. Twice more. Thrice more. Still, nothing was amiss. It was as if the tree had remained untouched until now. Lucifer couldn’t believe it. Either Adam had perfectly hidden his tracks, or he had never eaten the fruit to begin with. Both explanations were baffling, and yet Lucifer was by the tree, unable to prove otherwise.

Irritated and confused, but mostly confused, Lucifer eventually made his way back towards the garden’s gate. He wanted to share what he found out so far with Lilith. Perhaps she could provide more insight? She did spend a lot more time with Adam, especially when they were just made. Lucifer sighed. This was a lot more confusing and challenging than he thought it was going to be.

Maybe it was the sun’s rays reflecting off his scales at just the right angle, or maybe it was because he wasn’t paying much attention to the path he was following, either way Lucifer was brought back to reality by the presence of a human. A woman specifically.

“Oh! I haven’t seen one like you before,” Eve bent down to have a closer look at the small, white snake in front of her. She reached out with her finger, stopping just a few inches away from the snake’s head. “No? Not the affectionate type, are you? That’s alright,” She smiled softly, as she pulled her hand away, opting to instead admire the beautiful snake from a distance.

Lucifer stopped in his tracks, surprised by the second woman’s sudden presence. How did he not notice her? He briefly thought of immediately slithering away, but judging by her demeanour, it seemed like the woman thought he was like any other animal in the garden. In the brief time he had spent lurking in the garden, he had found out that the second woman was from Adam’s rib, not long after Lilith and Lucifer were expelled from Eden. Coming from Adam, Lucifer initially thought she would be similar to him in many ways, and yet whenever her presence caught his eyes, he never detected any form of animosity or ‘unpleasant’ feelings emanating from her. He never got an uneasy feeling from her unlike Adam. Her presence was made of simple innocence and sincerity. Lucifer found it hard to believe that she came from Adam. They were so different in many ways. Honestly, he felt pity for Eve, to have to remain with someone like Adam. It must be unbearable not to have freedom.

Maybe there was a way he could help her.

—-

Lucifer eventually made his way back to Lilith. A home amongst the trees, high above the ground, but still covered by the forest canopy. It was their little haven in the massive world that they recently found themselves in. There were many dangers outside the garden, however, his angelic nature alone was enough to deter any predator from approaching. Unfortunately, Lilith was human, and Lucifer, as much as he wanted to, couldn’t always be by her side. And so, while they didn’t need it much, Lucifer used magic to keep his love and their haven perfectly safe from any harm that would ever dare come close.

As he approached their home, Lucifer was greeted with the sight of Lilith in all of her regal beauty sitting on the balcony, leisurely reading one of the books he had given her. Her blonde hair like silky rays of sun flowing amongst the leaves, her delicately sculpted figure a perfection amongst imperfections, and her amethyst eyes a priceless jewel. She never fails to steal Lucifer’s breath away whenever he gazes upon her image.

“Something caught your eye?,” Lilith asked, a teasing smile on her lips.

Lucifer nodded, smiling as he flew to sit beside her. “Oh, just the most perfect woman in existence.” He held her hand and placed a soft kiss on it. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” Lilith put down her book to give her full attention to her husband. “You look troubled, what's wrong?”

Lucifer told her of all his findings in the garden. About Adam’s changing behaviour depending on who was present, his recent questionable actions, and the fact that he had seemingly not eaten the fruit of knowledge. How there was evidence in his behaviour, but no traces of it in the garden. It simply seemed impossible.

“That’s why I’m asking you to remember when Adam may have changed. He couldn’t have always been like this from the beginning.”

Lilith hummed in contemplation, one hand on her chin. When did Adam change? While he did become more and more condescending and controlling as time went on, she didn’t particularly notice any sudden shifts in attitude. To her, Adam had always been unpleasant.

“Why couldn’t he always have been like that?,” Lilith finally replied.

“What do you mean?”

“Now that I’ve thought more deeply about it, Adam never seemed to have truly cared for me. Did you know he pulled his hand away from me in disgust when we first met? This was after all of the angels left.”

“Really?”

Lilith nodded. “It only went downhill from there. Adam had always been Adam. Yes, he got worse later on, but no abrupt changes. I think it was just him slowly shedding his mask.”

Lucifer looked down at his lap. He didn’t like the conclusion Lilith was leading him down, but she would never lie to him. To question his father’s work. Did God make a mistake when he made Adam? Was there a flaw that Heaven failed to notice? Just the thought itself was blasphemous. Every thought in his body demanded him to banish such thoughts from his mind. To show respect to his father and creator.

“I…don’t believe that Heaven is perfect,” Lilith added. “They did, afterall, punish us for our harmless love.”

The thought gripped onto Lucifer’s mind, unwilling to let go. Lilith was right. Heaven liked to present itself as perfect and fair, when in reality it was not. Lucifer felt the foundations he had always believed in crumbling around him. It was difficult for him to accept this new reality, but he could see it now. Similar to how Lilith was finally able to see the world outside of Eden and God’s plans, Lucifer was finally able to see what Heaven truly was. He held Lilith’s hand in one of his. It was his silent agreement.

A thought crossed his mind. The image of the second woman being carefree and innocently exploring the cage that disguised itself as paradise. She didn’t know any better, and wouldn’t know any better if things remained the same.

“I forgot to talk more about it. About Adam’s new wife,” Lucifer brought up.

Lilith quirked an eyebrow. Her gaze told him to go on. Lucifer did briefly mention that Heaven made Adam a new wife, the second woman, and she would be lying to herself if she didn’t admit she was at least curious about her replacement.

“She was made from one of his ribs…”

“Not from the dust of the earth?”

Lucifer shook his head, “No. And at first, I did think that she would be similar to Adam, being made from him and all, but she’s not like him at all.” He then described his perception of Eve to Lilith. How the second woman was devoid of any ill intent. Her eyes were always full of wonder and excitement as she fully took in everything around her. Always a little too willing and eager to listen to Adam’s whims, like she didn’t know any better. Sure, Adam treated her well enough, but how could he not when Heaven tailor-made a wife for him?

Lilith listened to every word, taking all of this new information in. From what she understood, it seemed that Heaven made the second woman while considering Lilith’s personality. While she was reserved and assertive, Eve seemed to be lively and passive. A little too passive.

“It’s as if the concept of choice was never built into her,” Lilith added, disgust and anger written all over her face. So that was all Heaven thought of them. Something readily replaceable and to be changed whenever it suited them, like playthings. Why call them perfect in the first place? Lilith clenched her fists tightly. It wasn’t fair at all, for both her and Eve.

“We have to help her. Don’t you think she deserves better? She should, at the very least, be allowed to decide for herself,” Lilith said with finality, her amethyst eyes emboldened by her resentment to Heaven for what they had done.

This was why Lucifer couldn’t help but love the first woman. She shared his passion and dreams to be able to be who you are with no restraints. She craved true freedom the same way he did. A proud smile crept on his lips, “I knew you would understand. You always do. And yes, we will help her. I’ve got an idea.”

—-

Lucifer was back in the garden, hiding his presence in the form of various animals. He had two goals now. One, expose Adam’s true nature to Heaven, and Two, give free will to Eve. It sounded simple enough, and yet here was hiding in trees after almost being caught by Michael. Ever since the night that Adam challenged him, the first man had clung to his brother whenever he visited the garden. And wherever Adam was, Eve followed. All three of them were always together, like peas in a pod.

He wrapped himself on the tree’s branch, his swaying impatiently as he waited for Michael to finally go back to Heaven. He swore that his brother took longer and longer to go back, “Don’t you have more work up there?”

Suddenly, Lucifer felt himself quickly untangle from the branch and sink towards the ground as something snatched his tail. He forgot the fourth pea in the pod, their pet cat who was weirdly protective of the first man. Amora pinned his scaly body on the ground, yellow eyes looking down on him. If he didn’t know any better, he would say that she looked rather smug. Very like Adam. It was no wonder she had taken a liking to him.

Amora then placed Lucifer in her mouth, her grip secure, but not deadly, before heading to a sprint towards the trio in the meadow.

“Oh no you don’t!”

Just as quickly, Lucifer shifted into another animal. Something even smaller. A small, red beetle. And before Amora could bring him to the trio, Lucifer slipped from her jaws, and flew into the air. Way higher up this time.

When she felt her prey gone from her jaws, Amora stopped abruptly in the middle of the field. Desperately looking around for her prized prey, subsequently catching Adam’s attention.

“Oof! What’s wrong girl?,” he patted her back when she finally gave up and slumped on him.

Amora let out a disgruntled growl. Adam understood what that meant. It meant that a weird animal slipped by her again. The weird animal being Lucifer. That was alright though, she at least kept him on his toes and far away enough from both him and Eve. While not as effective as Michael, Amora did keep the snake at bay most of the time.

“She’s been acting odd lately,” Michael commented, looking up as he shifted his focus on the flower halo he was trying to make. Key word tried. It seemed that he found another thing he wasn’t particularly good at. Looking at his sorry excuse of a flower halo, Michael wasn’t even sure why he was still trying at this point. His looked like it could fall apart from a slight breeze, and it was too large and misshapen, its flowers almost crumpled from the amount of times he replaced them. But when Eve invited him to join her and Adam in making flower halos (to be like angels as Eve said), and Adam gave him a perfectly crafted one, that now rested upon his head, and well, he thought he should at least return the favour. That, and Adam’s presence near him, as he taught him what to do and praised his efforts, felt rather… nice. It was like a craving almost fulfilled. A craving that gradually grew more and more potent as the days rolled on. It was also a craving that he couldn’t fully satisfy and shouldn’t. But he would take what he could.

“Is it her friend again?,” Eve asked.

Adam nodded, “Her friend ran away again.”

The angel had been visiting the garden more frequently, and staying longer as well. Maybe the animals weren’t as comfortable with him as he thought? The other angels in Heaven did say that he had an icy aura sometimes.

“Maybe her friend is anxious about my presence?”

“I’d say he’s terrified,” Adam snorted inwardly. “Maybe.”

Oh, so his presence was causing some anxiety amongst the garden’s inhabitants. Michael frowned, “I could go if it would make them feel more comfortable.”

Just as he was about to stand and get ready to leave, Adam’s hand shot out to stop him. He had a worried look on his face. “Uh…you haven’t finished your flower halo yet.” His hand left Michael’s forearm and moved onto his shoulder. “Besides, your presence is a comfort.”

Oh dear. That sweet smile and earnest eyes. Michael felt his cravings spike up again, and Adam carelessly was feeding it.

Michael found it hard to say anything, he eventually found his voice. He cleared his throat, “Alright, I’ll stay.”

Adam pulled back his hand, and Michael already missed the comforting warmth from Adam’s hand. The feel of it lingered on his right forearm and shoulder, etched into memory.

“Your presence is a comfort.”

Michael smiled to himself. That was nice to know.

Part 8

Part 10

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #guitarhero #time travel au #michael x adam #🛡🎸#hazbin hotel michael

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songoftrillium · 1 year

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Likes don’t increase visibility to others! Please reblog this to spread the word!

I think Werewolf is an inherently queer medium

This is all a part of a larger long-term project.

I am trying to hold the World of Darkness to higher standards of inclusivity.

Book 1: Cliath

Meet The Gaians — a chosen people blessed by Gaia of whom among them there are heroes who are born, blessed with the power to Change. They have been charged with the duty of protecting her and her brood, and among them are fellowships from every culture. They are largely comprised of Kinfolk. Vanguards of the earth, they follow the Codes and Creeds of renown in chiminage to the spirits in exchange for favor, protection, and power to strengthen their Fellowships and they form one of several primary factions.

A small number of Gaia’s chosen have been gifted the ability to shapeshift through either bite or birth into animals; warriors joining the fight against the Wyrm. The Gaians have many secret names for these shapeshifters between their cultures, and they range across many animal species and tribes, but the most common among them in these times are Garou.

This sourcebook includes information on First Changes, Rites of Passage, how people become werewolves, and what they're fighting for. Book 1 is effectively a players guide, including enough comprehensive character creation rules for people to create rank 1 Garou.

The World of Darkness is implied to exist just beneath a facade that all others take for granted as simply being a world gone wrong. When the Change happens to a Garou, human or otherwise, the world they once knew ceases to be. The Apocalypse is said to be something happening to everything, everywhere, simultaneously, and on every level. This transcends the concept of everything succumbing to a singular event but many small ones.

In many ways, the Garou themselves are emblematic of this Apocalypse, with these former lives ending and sweeping the cub into something far bigger than themselves. A Call To Action is the theme of Book 1.

Book 1: Cliath goes into warborn, bitten, wolf-born, and human-born lives leading up to the change. It presents a curated depiction of the Garou from the perspective of those who would mentor them. There are not a lot of conflicts, profound lore, or politics so much as 'this is what we are, this is what we do.' Functionally, this can be considered a Players’ Guide, containing your attributes, abilities, advantages, and Merits and Flaws. Gifts and rites will be truncated to rank 1 for the most part. Guidelines for new STs will be found here, including enough powers and enemy stats to keep their troupe of players on their toes. This will also include things like chargen and descriptions of attributes, abilities, and advantages. This will also have many details on packs and the importance of one's packmates. And what better way to introduce new players than to have it happen in an all-new setting for storytellers to introduce their players to the game: the first three chapters of Dead Mountain!

Dead Mountain isn't going anywhere. In fact, it will be used as the foundation for this series. Already-finished parts of the Dead Mountain will be released over the next few months, and a delayed release of the full chronicle will come next spring. The scope of Werewolf: the Essentials will strongly diverge from past game traditions. In past core books and settings, there was an intent to showcase the world at large, written from the perspective of people who had never been to these places. In the end, many details were laughably wrong or mediocre representations that didn’t appeal to the groups they represented. We want the World of Darkness to be HUGE. So, we will be laser-focusing this project to represent the Garou from the Pacific Northwest as an example, with guidelines on how to make your own World of Darkness at your locale HUGE too!

CALLING ALL CHARACHS!

We cannot make this happen without your help. We are putting out the call for folx from all parts of the queer, lesbian, trans, bisexual, gay, and asexual werewolf fandom looking to help make this the best possible release we can:

Artists

Horror writers

Editors

Consultants

Hype Wolves to help spread the word

Indie TTRPG creators

Working together, we can create a game that is fun, engaging, and genuinely representative of the diverse community of players and fans who love Werewolf. To help us out, click here We look forward to providing you future updates!

UPDATE: Our team has grown huge, and we're grateful to the fandom for rising up and howling with us! We received far more applications than we were able to fully process, but we promise to deliver you the best possible Sourcebook anthology we can! Meet the Writing Team Meet the Art Team Follow our official account for future announcements! To check out a book preview and help us hire cultural consultants click here

Social Media Shout-out! I offer my thanks to @peltofash and @a-boros-named-seamus for supporting me on the Adren and Athro tiers! Your contributions are directly helping make this game more inclusive!

#world of darkness #werewolf: the apocalypse #dead mountain #werewolf the apocalypse #werewolves #world building #queer werewolf #lesbian werewolf #werewolf the essentials #wta #w5 #werewolftheapocalypse #werewolf wednesday

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saltofmercury · 1 year

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Reunion

Pairing: König x f!reader

Author's note: This fic I think will be broken into three parts. There's so much I want to write but I also need to cut down!

Requested by @wikusiax0

Summary: König takes you to meet his family.

Part 2

"Reunion"

There’s a shaking at the other end of the couch.

His big knee jumps up and down rapidly, sending waves towards you.

You’re used to it by now, calming his nerves about an upcoming mission. You put your hand on his leg, rubbing gently up and down.

The motion doesn’t stop however, prompting you–

“You’re sending a mini earthquake over here.”

He stops, smiling at you. The smile seems forced, showing the dimples carved into his cheeks.

“Sorry schatz” he says absentmindedly.

He takes a deep breath, trying to regulate the chaos that’s sending ripples of anxiety throughout his body.

He starts to fiddle with his fingers.

First cracking them as he brings his knuckles into his other hand and bends, pulling each finger individually. He’s about to crack his first knuckle now, but you stop him.

“What’s going on? I can feel your anxiety.”

He pauses, his bottom lip being bitten by his teeth. You can see how his nostrils kind of flare. He opens his mouth to speak but he ends up laughing.

“It’s stupid really.”

He’s said this before, he’s said that he always gets nervous before a mission. Sometimes you’re not sure if he’s mistaken excitement for anxiety.

However, there's been a small doubt in his mind now that he won’t be as invincible as he once was because now there’s someone else in the picture. Someone who is waiting for him to come home.

You tilt your head, smiling at him, waiting for him to tell you.

“My uncle passed away.”

Your stomach drops, your eyes widen.

“Oh my god why didn’t you say anything?

“This is exactly why. You get weird around death.”

He pokes down at your leg.

This was a bit of an exaggeration. When you told him about how many childhood animals you found out really died and didn’t run away, it opened a floodgate of tears, him consoling you telling you that:

“It was a long time ago, things like this happen.”

It was embarrassing. It had now become something that he thought was triggering towards you.

He exhales, continuing,

“That’s not even the bad part. I hardly knew him and… well, he was hardly my uncle.” eyeing you carefully.

It wasn’t an immediate family member. It was the person behind the funeral who insisted König should come home to pay his respects.

You stop for a second. Confusion clouds your mind, eyebrows shift from their place, you’re about to ask him what the big deal is if he hardly knew him, but he stops you.

“I…uh have to go to Austria.”

“Oh…”

From what he’s told you, it’s been years since he’s gone back. He never had a reason to go back.

His mom was divorced and traveling the world.

His relationship with his dad was never there, so he never put effort into it.

His older brother, much like his dad, was kind of distant towards him. They had each other’s numbers and talked on the phone every other month.

It was sad, but it’s the way he liked to keep it. He told stories of his mom, enduring a relationship she never wanted but kept because she came from a broken family.

She told him once he enlisted that she only stayed so that he wouldn’t be made fun of or looked down upon for having divorced parents.

It was also something he didn’t like to talk about.

He looked at you, bumping his knees together, waiting for an opportunity to bomb you with another surprise.

“Maybe… I was wondering if you could go with me?”

“Me?”

“Yeah why not? We could vacation for a bit, have you meet my family.”

There it was. Something you had always wanted but knew you couldn’t get.

If he was being honest, it had been long overdue —he had wanted you to meet his mom. He could get away with never meeting his dad or brother, but his mom was 100% the reason he wanted to bring you.

There were constant phone calls where she had heard your voice in the background but König had been changing the subject whenever she brought you up.

“I know you’re living together, I am a mother of modern times!”

König laughed, ignoring her and asking her what she did today.

“You can’t keep secrets from mama, at least introduce us on video, I won’t say anything embarrassing!”

“Mama… stop, in time you will meet.”

“In time? When? When I am in heaven?”

König laughed, there was nobody more impatient than his mother.

“Okay,” you nodded your head at him. Biting your cheeks, excitement flowing through your body.

“A week at most, schatz, don’t worry.”

Exhaling, a wave of relief surrounds his body.

At least the hard part is halfway over.

Throughout the week you asked him questions about his family. At least now was the chance to really ask him, get something out of him. Your relationship was very open. You two did not keep things from another and had great trust in one another. There were touchy subjects as all relationships have, but his family was one of the touchiest.

“So what’s your mom been doing lately?”

He looked over at you as he packed his black shirts.

“She … uh… she’s been in Malaysia the last time I spoke to her. She said something about the tropical landscape.”

You nodded, asking if she was still with her boyfriend.

“I guess so, he’s the one who paid for the ticket.”

If he was being honest, he was weirded out that his mom had a boyfriend. A boyfriend who looked just like his dad, but had a softer personality.

You’ll never forget when he had been in his computer room, talking to them through FaceTime, about him spending the holidays in Austria just for a week, when all of a sudden, his mom’s boyfriend called him “son.”

König practically tensed up, you heard it in his voice, his tone had pitched, as he excused himself in English and not German.

You saw his shoulders tense up, along with the face in the monitor scrunch up as he tried to excuse himself again, saying you called over to him.

As he left the call, he bumped right into you, laughing at how weird he got.

“He called me son?! What the fuck!” His face turned red, he shut his eyes, scrunched his nose as if he had tasted something bitter, trying to get the aftertaste out of his mouth.

“He’s just being nice, he loves your mom.”

“Yes but he is not my dad!”

“It’s a term of endearment Konig.”

“Well he can keep it!”

You kept pressing for information.

“What about your brother? Any news about him?”

He eyed you again, knowing exactly what you were doing.

“Yeah, he called me yesterday, still painting. Still living with my dad.”

You bit the bullet and asked.

“How’s your dad going to feel about us going there in two days?”

He smirked for a second, his tongue licked his lips as his face contorted to being serious.

“It doesn’t matter because we probably won’t see him. It was my mother’s best friend, my father won’t make an appearance.”

“Oh…”

If you were being honest, his dad and brother were the intimidating ones. You were glad that at least you were going to meet the important person in his life and not the ones who had scared him, and intimidated him.

He closes the luggage and sits on the bed.

“You don’t have to worry. It will be my mom and her boyfriend. This vacation should be simple.”

He traces along the end of the bed, sighing, grabs your hand.

“I know it must be intimidating but I’m really happy you’re coming.”

You smile down at him, adjusting yourself into his lap. He pulls you in, kissing you and falling back onto the bed. He adjusts himself on top of you, kicking the luggage down on the floor.

“I can… show you my favorite bakery, my old school, the nice little pond where my uncle took me sometimes.” He kisses down your neck, pinning your hands above your head.

“You can meet my mom and tell her how much you love me.”

You laugh, sliding your hands from his grasp to his face.

“I’ve been wanting to tell her since forever but you kept delaying our meeting.”

A quick peck to your lips, he sits up.

“Ok go ahead and ask what you want. It’s better to know now then go in blindly.”

You’re quick to ask about his uncle.

“Well, I only call him my uncle because he was my mother’s best friend growing up.”

He eyes you again, trying not to get sentimental.

“He knew my mom first, so he stood by her, often giving her money when she needed it. Giving her a room in his house when things got sketchy after I left.”

“Uncle Elias was friends with both my mom and dad, so he knew a lot about the troubles they had in their marriage from both points of view and he played devil’s advocate for a lot of their fights.”

“It wasn’t until one day that my dad had threatened him to not house my mom or else he would tell his family his true secret… that Elias was gay.”

“I guess my dad has always been an asshole because Elias ended up coming out to his family not on his own terms, but they didn’t care, but he never was the same with my dad anymore.”

“I think part of me does want to go, because uncle Elias was such a good friend to my mom, and an even greater uncle to me, however, part of me hates that Elias still wanted to maintain a friendship with my dad.”

Your eyes meet, and he closes his hand around yours.

“And part of me, regrets bringing you when Elias isn’t even around anymore.”

You bite your bottom lip, nodding slowly.

"It's okay, I've never wanted to rush you."

He looks up at you, forcing a smile.

"Come on, let's finish packing. You'll understand later."

You continue to roll your jeans into your luggage on the floor.

There was just so much more you wanted to ask him, but figured it would be best seeing it in person.

#könig #call of duty #könig x reader #könig mw2 #konig call of duty #konig x reader #könig x you

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invisible-lint · 4 months

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Fixing Spring: Chapter 1

Tamlin x Reader

Summary: You had left Spring when it fell. Now you're back to kick a certain High Lord's butt into doing something about it

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1k

You walk through the Spring orchard, looking for Tamlin. You had left when Spring fell, managing to find your brother Lucien in Velaris and taking refuge there. But Velaris was never going to be your home. Perhaps because after so many years spent in eternal spring, winter was miserable. Or perhaps you had grown tired of listening to the way they spoke about your friend, despite having the same flaws they criticized. So you left to head home, or the closest thing you have to one at the very least.

You see him up ahead, in beast form and roll your eyes. You had noticed him before he noticed you, either he’s given up, or he’s gotten sloppy. You pick up a fallen apple, chucking it at Tamlin, ignoring his growl. "Do you intend to roam as a beast feeling sorry for yourself forever, or do you intend to do something about it? So Feyre left you, all but set Spring on fire. Wallowing isn't going to do anything to fix it."

"Is this supposed to make me feel better?"

You chuck another apple at him, this time he dodges it and you grin. "No, I'm telling you you need to get your shit together and stop being a baby. You're High Lord. Fucking act like it."

"But Feyre-"

"Oh cut the shit. Feyre may have done some damage, but you gave up and that's why things are the way they are now." He just stares at you, not used to anyone talking to him that way, not even you. But you had bitten your tongue for years and you were done holding back.

"So are you going to do something about it?"

"I'm not sure where to start..."

"Well I think shifting back to a form with two legs would be a good start. And a bath. You smell like a wild animal." He shifts, still giving you an incredulous look.

"Good. What condition is the manor in?" You start walking in that direction. He grimaces, but follows. "That bad? Well then, I suppose that's the next step, after a bath. We'll need a room for each of us, the study, kitchen and dining room. The rest of it can wait until later."

"We'll?"

You roll your eyes at him. "Clearly you can't be left to your own devices. So yes, I'm staying and helping."

"Why?"

"No clue. It's completely against my better judgment, believe me. Maybe it's because the Night Court is pissing me off and I know this is the one place they wouldn't look for me. Maybe it's because Spring is the only thing standing between the humans and the rest of Prythian and you refuse to get your shit together. Or because I feel drawn back here for some reason." You shrug.

"The Night Court is pissing you off?"

"I don't want to talk about it. If I did, I would have stayed in Night and dealt with it." He raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t press.

Not long after, the manor comes into sight. "Cauldron boil me, Tamlin. You sure did a number on this place. We have our work cut out for us."

You get to work, and between the magic you both posses, you manage to get two bedrooms and the kitchen clean enough by the evening time.

"Luckily, I had the foresight to bring food with me when I left. It'll be enough for a few days, but we shouldn't rely on it for that long."

"I can go hunting tomorrow."

"Good. I can forage. Until this place is able to house a staff, we take turns cooking." He nods, uncertain why he keeps letting you tell him what to do. For some reason, he doesn't mind it, almost enjoys it, actually. You hand him a plate of bread, cheese and dried meat for dinner. "We'll have to chop wood too. There isn't any to build a fire with."

"You'll want extra blankets tonight then."

"I think I'll be fine. Can't be worse than the Illyrian Mountains." You wrinkle your nose at the memory of how cold that had been.

"No, I suppose it can't."

The two of you eat in silence for a few minutes until you notice him staring at you.

"What?"

"You have cobwebs in your hair."

"Seems like I'll need a bath too then. Please tell me the hot water comes from magic and not fire." He laughs, and you're surprised at how much you had missed the sound.

"You're in luck, it comes from magic."

"Thank the Mother. Cold baths might have been the thing that made me leave." Tamlin laughs again, but something in his gut twists at the thought of you leaving. He brushes it off as not wanting to be alone again.

"We should get some rest. We have some long days ahead of us."

“That we do. I’m going to teach you how to properly apologize.”

“I know how to apologize.”

“Really? Do you think there’s anything you might need to say to me then?”

“I’m sorry?”

You close your eyes for a moment, begging the Mother to grant you the patience you need. “Are you asking or telling me?”

He clenches his fists, clearly annoyed. “Telling. I’m sorry.”

“Mhm. And what are you sorry for?”

“Being a prick?”

You snort out a laugh. “This is why I’m teaching you how to apologize properly.”

He grumbles, but doesn’t argue, too busy trying not to smile at your laughter. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed that sound, missed you. Something stirs in his chest at the realization, but he ignores it. You had already left him once. Eventually he’d do something or say something and you’d leave him again. He was destined to be alone, hells, after all he’d done, he probably deserved it.

You watch him think, wonder where his mind is going. If you were going to fix Spring, you would have to fix Tamlin. You certainly have your work cut out for you.

A/N: Requests are open so feel free to send them in!

divider by @tsunami-of-tears

#tamlin x reader #acotar #acotar fic #acotar fanfiction #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you #imagine #maasverse #fanfiction

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mirrored-movements · 1 year

Text

Home Pt. 2

(Yandere!Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader)

Synopsis: You've always had the ability to travel through universes, there was never a reason as to why and you never paused to question it. However, there was someone else who began to question it.

Warnings: Obsessive behavior? Horrible writing probably <3

Part 1 Here

“And you’re 100% sure you’re qualified to do all of this?” Finding yourself seated on a medical chair with the sleeve of your arm rolled up and a tension banned wrapped around your forearm, you stared at Miguel wearily.

Over the past few days, you’d been stuck with the man going through some tests in order to determine your ‘danger level’. Most of them unfortunately coming out inconclusive leading the man to declare that he needed a blood sample.

“How many times do I have to tell you- I am qualified.” Rolling his eyes with an exasperated sigh Miguel shook his head, one hand holding an alcohol wipe while the other readied a needle.

Rolling your own eyes in a mockery you let out a huff. “Qualified with what though? I’ve been stuck in your presence for almost a week now and I barely know anything about you. What happened to some small talk or something?”

His head shook from side to side once more, the man merely humming to signify he was somewhat listening all the while taking a quick blood sample. It wasn’t that he didn’t like you; you seemed like an outgoing person, and got along with most of the people that happen to stumble across you within the HQ.

It was just the fact that he didn’t know if you were an anomaly or not and didn’t want to risk getting attached nor risk the multiverse.

He couldn’t go through any of that again.

“Well, what exactly do you want to know? I might feel obliged to humour you.” Pulling away from your arms and passing you a small bandaid, Miguel twisted around to set the vial of blood into a centrifuge. His gaze flickered towards you from the side awaiting whatever your little mind might come up with.

As if not expecting this response you hesitated for a second, suddenly every question you had before left your brain and only one stupidly basic one remained. “What's your favorite colour?”

Blinking almost dumbfounded at the simple question he fully turned to face you, mind wondering why out of everything you could’ve asked that you asked that.

“I don’t have one.”

“What about favorite animal?”

“No.”

“Favorite season?”

“None.”

“Are you just going to say no to all my questions or are you going to answer one of them?” Finding that he wasn’t answering anything no matter how simple you crossed your arms with a disgruntled huff.

Seeing the way you grew annoyed with his replies Miguel's lips barely quirked up, one of his thick brows raising. “Well, are you going to ask any actual questions?” Retorting back with that he then rose up from his seat, eyes remaining fixed to where you sat.

“Ok fine, if you weren’t bitten by a spider how come you’re still a Spiderman?”

“I’m not answering that.” Taking the vial of blood from the small machine Miguel had to hide his amusement at the way you’d begun complaining. Your smaller form quickly jumping up from your seat to begin berating him trying to come to a conclusion to your own question.

“But you said-” “I said I might feel obliged.”

“So you were never going to answer in the first place?!” Gasping dramatically at the realization you laughed in disbelief at the sort of sneaky smirk that’d curled across the man's face.

Maybe there was a reason you’d gotten mixed up in all this multiverse madness.

“Lyla,” Calling out to his AI, Miguel awaited her appearance. The holographic image right away questioned him on what he needed. “Check in on (Y/N).” The command was simple to follow, and despite the small teasing from the AI a screen had popped up before her.

“Mm looks like she’s chatting with some people.” Musing that out Lyla bobbed her head, her small form flickering to the side as Miguel peered over at the screen. A part of him wondered who you’d found yourself talking with.

He couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the sight of Ben leaning over a pillar dramatically, whatever being said presumably incoherent as yourself and the form of Peter both shared a look before bursting into laughter.

His chest rumbled.

“Lyla, assign those two to a mission.”

Looking over at the man with a brow raised she made a pop noise with her lips. “There are no missions curr-” “Make something then. Tell them to investigate something or someone or just- do something.” His hand waved through the air as he spoke, “And tell (Y/N) to come here.”

“Roger that.”

Watching the small hologram fade away he let out a breath, tongue running across the elongated canines within his mouth before another huff left him. Heavy steps bringing him back over towards the microscope he’d been occupied with for the past few hours.

Eyes peaking through it once more at the sample that rested below, watching the small cells dance around. The genetic makeup of them seemingly assimilating with the atmosphere around them, matching with the structure of those from that universe.

It was a breakthrough in his opinion.

A serendipitous breakthrough.

“Damn room is always so damn dark.” Stepping into the room that housed Miguel's strange floating office you grumbled under your breath about the lack of light, eyes struggling to adjust to it. “You know ambient lighting is a thing.”

“The light hurts my eyes.”

Practically jumping out of your skin at the sudden appearance of the hulking man you let out a forced laugh. “Does that have to do with your spider bite-less Spiderman abilities or something?”

“It does actually.” Without skipping a beat Miguel clicked his tongue, gaze drifting across the plain look stretched out across your face at the response, it looked like you hadn’t expected it either.

“Oh, ok thats, thats something I guess.” Clasping your hands together you nodded your head, praying that your face gave off the ‘what did you call me here for’ look.

To be honest, you didn’t mind Miguel. He was very intimidating upon your first meeting however it seemed like as the testing progressed and you were stuck with him for a while he seemed to loosen up. As much as he could at least, there were still some things that freaked you out a bit.

Such as the way he could just appear out of nowhere and scare the literal soul of of you as well as his temper. You’ve only seen it once since being at HQ, it was short but nearly ingrained into your brain as in that moment you’d come to find that perhaps he was more spider like- then the spider-people.

Fangs. He had fangs is what you meant, and claws- you think.

“You shouldn’t socialize too much with everyone here. They might question why a civilian is here.” Chiding that in absentmindedly he outstretched one of his arms towards the floating platform, a practically glowing web being shot from a device around his wrist allowing him to gain access to it.

Blinking at what he’d said then what he did you opened your mouth to speak only to shut it right after as that same glowing web shot down attaching to the front of your shirt. With a short yell in surprise, you were whisked onto the platform, Miguel's hands planting onto your shoulder to steady you as soon as you’d landed.

“A little warning would’ve been nice.”

“I’m going to swing you onto the platform.”

Giving him an ‘Are you serious’ look you’d dropped it rather quickly. He seemed different compared to when the last time you both chatted. More…willing to speak and joke around with you if that makes sense.

Before he seemed to keep you at arms reach but now it felt like he was trying to make up for lost time.

“Ok well we’re on the platform now, what did you want to show me? Or why did you need me.” Somewhat growing anxious with the sudden silence you watched him press a few things against a glowing orange keyboard, a pair of large circles popping up.

“Do you know what these are?”

Starring at the two things your brows furrowed. “I don’t know a cow pattern?”

“This one,” He pointed towards the one on the right, “Is from your average day civilian. This one,” the other one was pointed to. “Is from you. Notice any difference?”

“Yes?” He gave you an incredulous look and you corrected your response. “No, I don’t.”

“Exactly. From this, we know you’re not an anomaly.”

Perking up at this you stared at him in disbelief, heart beginning to race a little at the prospect of being allowed to leave. “So does that mean I can go home now? That we’re done testing?”

He didn’t quite like that implication.

“You are home.” Seeing the way your hands fell back to your sides he added on as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “This is the average citizen from here, Earth-928 and, your genetic code- this here,” He motioned back towards your circle. “Matches here.”

“Whatever home you had is here now. You belong here, it is set in stone.” There was no way he was going to mention how your code blends in with whatever universe you found yourself in.

Why go somewhere else, when you could stay there?

Blinking while trying to process what he was saying you began to shake your head in disbelief. “Well, your data is wrong then. I wasn’t born here, so I can’t stay here.” Stepping back you shook your head at him, mind still trying to wrap around this. “You said I’m not an anomaly so I can just continue to do what I was doing before coming here.”

“But what if you leave here and then become an anomaly? What happens then? It is proven that breaking what is meant to happen ruins worlds.”

“Now you’re just trying to psyche me out. I know I don’t belong here Miguel, whatever tests you did are wrong.”

Clicking his tongue he watched you carefully, eyes sharp, almost predatory now compared to how you recalled them being. However, he raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, you can go.”

“But do you even know where home is?”

Your mind paused at this, unwilling to quite process what he’d said. You’d been traveling around for so long- did you remember where you lived? Was there ever actually a place you called home or was that something you made up in a sort of last-ditch effort to seek self-comfort?

But, despite all that- you surely weren’t going to be stuck in one place. That’s not how you did things.

“I’m sure I can manage.” Choosing your words carefully noting how Miguel had become ridged you felt as though it was in your best interest to open a portal. “It was nice to meet you, Miguel.”

“You get lonely traveling around.” Once more he spoke, hand leaning out to press a key on the keyboard, your voice playing through some speakers of a conversation you’d had with Peter on one of a few occasions. Maydays father becoming some sort of comforting face you found yourself returning to for advice- despite his advice being close to unusable. “Never fitting in. People alienating you. Seems like you’ve had more fun and made more friends here than, say the hundreds of dimensions you’ve been to.”

“Am I correct?”

“Why are you suddenly so interested in everything? You weren’t like this the first time I came here.”

“I didn’t know if you were going to be stable here. But now I do.” Whatever was running through his mind left him letting out another breath. “And I know where you belong now. All this time, all these portals- led you here.”

“To me.”

Stunned. Shocked. Confused. Speechless.

Those were only a few words you could use to describe how you were currently feeling. Just an overall ‘What?’ could sum up everything.

“Miguel,” Raising a hand as though you were trying to tame some sort of wild animal you sucked in a breath. “I barely know you. You barely know me. We barely know each other.”

Taking a step the man hummed nodding along, something you previously took as a friendly manner now seemingly less friendly and more of a way to keep him from lashing out. “Then we get to know each other. It’s not too late.”

“It’s never too late.” Despite his tone sounding hopeful, the look he gave sent your nerves buzzing, a hidden challenge almost. Cocoa hues flickering a ruby hue the longer you seemed to remain silent- say something.

Seeing that you weren’t answering Miguel glanced up at the ceiling, the last bit of his patience wearing thin- not that it was very big, to begin with. “I’ll give you a head start,” A step forward from him was a step back for you, the airy laughs leaving him sounding hollow. “You can go anywhere you want, any dimension. But if you can’t find where your ‘home’ is by the end of the day?”

“I’ll come and get you. And bring you home.”

----------------

Casually wrote the three things on my account in one day <3 anyways if you have any issues with my writing or anything, sue me IG idk.

Anyways lemme know if you want a part 3- I might feel inclined to write more for my lovely lovely Miguel <3

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