#me using colors as light as these is unheard of

[kuurake]

i missed you

#i just think bam should have been allowed to do this #khunbam #tower of god #the 25th bam #jue viole grace #me using colors as light as these is unheard of #kuuart #khun aguero agnes

[roguelov]

Let Me Help

Summary: On a mission with Miguel to stop a variant of Doc Ock, you accidentally inhale something you shouldn’t have. You actively try to ignore these burning desires raging through you. However when Miguel notices your odd behavior, he finally confronts you. A confrontation that leads to this thing you need most: him.

Word Count: ~6.6k

Reader: Afab (no fem pronouns used)

Warnings: SMUT (sex pollen, fem!masturbation, fingering, unprotected sex, riding, oral (fem!receiving), doggy style, multiple orgasms, slight praise kink, voyeurism, cockwarming, switch!reader, switch!Miguel), smut with some feelings, unestablished relationship, mutual pining

MINORS DNI/ 18+ ONLY

The salty harbor water splashed against the algae covered docks of the warehouse district. Smog of the city filtered into the already cloudy night sky. The sea and city - cars and boat horns - clashed together in an odd cacophony. Your nose wrinkled as the sting of salt mixed with newly poured asphalt.

On top of a warehouse, you and Miguel stood side by side overlooking the massive, old and rundown, area. Another anomaly was plucked and dropped off in a universe where they shouldn’t be. The Spider-Man, Peter W. Parker, of this world was unfortunately and temporarily subdued by the anomaly, a variant of Doc Ock. Peter was completely paralyzed from his encounter and was resting back at HQ as a team tirelessly tried to work on an antidote for him.

“Be careful,” Miguel warned.

“Always am,” you smirked under your mask, before leaping off the building to search the west end of the docks.

Miguel scoffed. Yet, his eyes watched you intently as you landed on another building. You slipped inside one of the broken windows and disappeared from view.

He paused, hesitating for a second, then turned away.

Searching through your area, the anomaly wasn’t in the first building. Or the second. You hoped, sending out a small prayer to the universe he was in the last building. If not, maybe Miguel had more luck than you.

The last warehouse was filled with wrecked boats strewn up on lifts, scattered repair parts, and half broken shipping crates. Moving around, your footsteps were light, and unheard. Nothing creaked, and dust barely moved. You tried a few office doors only to find them locked, or rusted shut. Sighing, you knew of another way to enter and luckily they all lined the edge of the warehouse.

Outside once again, you carefully scaled the building approaching the first set of windows. Brown paper covered most of the dirty glass, yet one window had no covers. The paper was luckily torn back. Peering inside, it was a packed room.

A manager's office was reinvented. The desk was pushed to the far wall. Crates piled into the room, acting as other workstations. Old and battered scientific equipment, some even haphazardly thrown together, filled the desk and crates. Cracked glass - cups, beakers, and vials - were scattered about. Scraps of tarp were laid across the floor and hung from the walls as if for protection. A harsh pungent smell soon assaulted your nose. Your face scrunched up in disgust. Chemicals, any and all so it seemed, were carefully placed into rows on the floor and on top of crates. While vials lined a chipped wooden shelf, poorly screwed into the wall. Each one a different color, and labeled with a system you didn’t comprehend or care to understand.

It was crowded, an office turned into a makeshift lab.

Yet, your eyes fell back to the obvious man taking up the cramped space.

If you could call him that.

He was an experiment, a genetic splicing, gone wrong. He was a human on top while stormy blue grey tentacles were his legs. Strangely, he moved so easily. The appendages carried him with perfect posture, and also effortlessly reached for material around the homemade lab. As a tentacle slithered past your view, you quickly noted the tips had black barbs.

You carefully pushed on the window to thankfully find it unlocked. You crawled through and softly dropped in. But, he was somehow alerted to you.

He whipped around, beakers and vials with unknown liquid swayed in his hands. Massive goggles were strapped around his bulging inky black eyes. Tubes of water wrapped around the side of his neck over gills. A torn, stained lab coat hung off his bare torso. Yet, despite his somewhat menacing appearance, he cowarded at your presence. A whine, a bubbling of water, erupted from him.

You raised your hands, hoping to calm him, “Hey, hey, there’s no need to be scared. We’re just going to get you back home, okay?”

As if proving your point, he glitched. He groaned, leaning into a wooden crate. His massive eyes locked with yours. He violently shook his head. “No, I’m not going back.”

“I’m sorry, but you have to. If you don’t you’ll destroy yourself and possibly this universe.”

“No!” He immediately threw whatever vial he had in his hand.

You easily dodged it, but it splattered into the wall behind your head. A sickly sweet aroma filled your nose. You coughed, waving it away. While you were distracted, he fled. He moved with surprising agility, and squeezed through a small air vent.

“Shit.” You coughed one last time. You pressed your watch, calling Miguel. Clearing your throat, you said, “Miguel, I found him. Far west end of the docks, and he’s on the move.”

“Understood.”

You stepped forward and the world tilted. You quickly stumbled into the crates. You grunted as a dull ache rolled through you. Clenching your jaw, you shoved down the pain.

Not now. We will deal with this later.

You dove through the window to catch Doc Ock who was scrambling down an alleyway. His tentacles made a distinct ‘thwap’ as he ran away. For a moment, your vision blurred. Your grip loosened as you slid down a few inches down the brick wall. Gritting your teeth, you shook your head. Everything cleared again. Ignoring the obvious signs, you fired a web and swung down into the alley.

Miguel, however, beat you to it.

Landing in the alleyway, Miguel stood over the now unconscious Doc Ock. The red glowing webs secured around his torso and tentacles. You let out a silent thanks.

Miguel turned around, and approached you. “Are you okay?”

His voice reverberated throughout your body. Your heart leapt into your throat. You let out a shaky breath, trying to calm yourself. “Yeah, I’m good.”

His eyes trailed over you. You were breathing heavily, why? Did the two of you fight? How did this anomaly slip past you?

“Ready?” You asked, already opening up a portal.

“Yeah,” he muttered, grabbing the anomaly.

After dropping off the anomaly at HQ, you said your quickest farewells and practically ran back home to your universe, to your apartment. Your chest started to constrict horribly when Miguel was nearby. It wasn’t the giddy childhood crush you were already accustomed too, but this deep heart wrenching ache of desire.

It frightened you.

You had to get away from him.

Returning home, you found your city basking in the moonlight. Neon signs and billboards flickered in the distance. And the usual rush of cars quieted down just enough for most of the city to fall asleep. However, sleep would not come tonight for you.

You tossed and turned endlessly. Your heart raced, like a hummingbird in flight trapped in a cage. Sweat beaded over your forehead. The dull ache from before started to move farther south of your body. You groaned and arched your back.

What … what the hell is this?

You rolled over, burying your face into the pillow.

We’re fine. It’s fine. It’ll pass.

It didn’t.

The moon, with its siblings of stars, fell and the soon burning and bright sun rose over the horizon. Yet, these sensations never wavered. Dare you say, they intensified. Your sheets were kicked off the bed, pillows tossed across the floor in fits of rage, and your clothes skewed and damped with sweat.

Fuck.

Your body ached horribly.

Hot flashes surged through you in intense waves. You groaned, curling into a tight ball. However, it was the growing heat between your legs that was becoming unbearable. You unconsciously rubbed your thighs together. The minimal friction, basically nothing, caused you to moan.

“Fuck,” you whimpered.

Shower. A cold shower might help.

Dragging yourself out of bed, you shuffled into the bathroom and slammed the door behind you. You turned on the show to the coolest, and still comfortable, temperature. This should help, hopefully. Stripping out of your sweaty clothes, you hopped in. You hissed slightly. The water was a shock to your overheated, clammy skin. Pressing your palms into the shower wall, you dunked your head under the water like a poorly done baptism. You needed to cleanse yourself and your unholy thoughts.

You forced yourself to stay there. You gritted your teeth, and squeezed your eyes shut. The water pounded over you. Each drop were needles: sharp, quick, and irksome. But, standing under the water, you were still unbelievably hot, still painfully aroused.

Screw it.

One hand skimmed down your body between your legs. One swipe over your soaking folds and your knees nearly buckled. Still holding yourself up with one hand, and hunched under the running water, you slowly dipped your fingers inside yourself.

And immediately, his face appeared behind your closed eyes.

You could easily conjure up a scenario, and you happily indulged in your fantasy.

He was in the shower with you. Still bent over, his arm wrapped around your waist, holding you up. His chest pressed firmly into your back. His skin was so warm compared to the cool water. His lips brushed over the shell of your ear. His thick fingers were inside you, it was his fingers bringing you to your release.

You moaned, pumping yourself faster.

“That’s it,” his voice whispered in your ear. “Just like that.”

“Shit,” you hissed.

“Come on,” he encouraged with a light chuckle. His hand brushed up your sides to your breasts. He gently pinched and played with your nipples. “Come on, cum around my fingers.”

You curled your fingers, making your walls flatter. You whimpered. The sinfully wet sounds mixed with the water rushing over you. You were close, far closer than you expected.

His lips skimmed down your neck. “That’s it, almost there.”

You bit your lip. You quickly flipped yourself around, supporting yourself with your back to the shower wall. Your other hand played with your clit, swirling around, as your fingers worked faster. It was messy, it was desperate. A whine rumbled in the back of your throat.

“Oh, please, cum for me. You’re so close, I can feel it.” His fingers curled, beckoning you towards your end.

It built and built, then it all snapped so suddenly and forcibly. You came hard around your fingers. “Fuck,” you hissed out.

He hummed, working you through your orgasm. “There it is.”

You leaned heavily into the wall, panting and dizzy from your rapid orgasm. You closed your eyes for a second, and let the water wash everything away.

Meanwhile, a familiar looking portal opened up in your bedroom. Miguel stepped out with a tension wrought into his shoulders. His mask retracted and his crimson eyes slid over your room, your messy room. He raised an eyebrow, surveying your room. The one thing that concerned him the most was you weren’t here.

Where were you?

“Fuck.”

Miguel’s head whipped over to the closed bathroom door. He heard you so clearly. He almost moved, almost burst through the door, but he stayed rooted in place.

Why couldn’t he move? What if you were in trouble, what if -

The shower turned off. He heard you move around, and he saw your shadow flash under the door. If you were moving, then maybe nothing was wrong. Then without warning, the bathroom door swung open with a resounding bang.

Miguel flinched, startled by the sudden noise.

Water still dripped down from your hair and down your face. Hunched forward, you propped yourself up with one hand on the doorframe. Your chest heaved. You gulped down air as if you ran a marathon. You wore only a baggy shirt which clung to your still wet skin. Your eyes swiveled over, instantly clocking Miguel’s unexpected presence.

Miguel’s eyebrows furrowed. “Are you okay?”

“What are you doing here?” You asked, ignoring his initial question.

“You haven’t responded to my calls.”

You glanced over to your watch, blinking on your nightstand. “Sorry, I was busy.”

His eyes trailed over your body. Concern filled him. He repeated, “Are you okay?”

“Just dandy.”

His lips thinned. Why were you like this? So goddamn stubborn sometimes. “You don’t seem fine, especially since our mission last night.”

“I’m just tired,” you huffed. “And a little sore.”

God, even now your body was still aroused. And with Miguel being here, it was making everything so much worse. Your fantasy from only moments ago was seared heavily into your mind.

He needed to leave before you did something you regretted.

Miguel sighed, crossing his arms. “Are you sure? Did -“

“I said I’m fine.”

He rolled his eyes. “Fine, whatever.” So be it. He pressed a button on his watch, opening up a portal back to HQ. He paused. He clearly wanted to say something, but didn’t. He stepped through without uttering another word.

You wanted to call him back, you wanted to shove him onto the bed, you wanted to him and happily bounce on his -

You groaned loudly, rubbing your hands over your face.

Dear god - universe, whatever - just someone save me from myself.

You reluctantly crawled back into bed. Maybe, the shower helped. Maybe, with Miguel gone you could rest. Maybe, this was all over.

Maybe, you were just delusional.

Tonight was no better than last night. In fact, it was probably worse. Fantasies of Miguel flooded your mind, and you couldn’t satisfy yourself no matter what you did.

You will find a solution tomorrow.

There had to be one.

The next morning, before the sun properly greeted the world, you pushed yourself up and out of bed. You had an idea on where to start. Not bothering with your suit, you kept your baggy shirt and pulled on an old pair of sweatpants. You slipped on your watch and opened up a portal to HQ. You marched directly towards the area where all the anomalies were being contained. Containers lined the area as their chorus of voices begged to be released. Your eyes swiveled around, trying to locate the one anomaly who had any possible explanation to your current endeavor. But, you couldn’t find him in the sea of people. Getting frustrated, you turned your attention towards the person operating the ‘Go Home’ machine.

“Spider-Byte.”

Margo, the purple holographic girl, whirled around. She smiled only for it to falter given your appearance. You were obviously and very plainly pissed. You glared icily, unable to calm yourself. Worst of all, every time you moved, pain and pleasure rolled through you.

“Whoa, are you -“

You cut her off, “The Doc Ock, the one Miguel and I brought in yesterday, is he still here?”

“Uh.” She brought up a screen and tapped on it. “Yeah, he’s still here but not for long. I’ll have him back home in a few hours.”

“I only need a few minutes. Just point me in the direction where he is.”

Margo did so without question, she gestured down a row of anomalies. Mumbling your thanks, you spun around weaving down the aisle until you finally saw him. You stomped over and pounded on the container.

“What the hell did you do to me,” you gritted your teeth.

The man blinked owlishly. “I’m sorry - oh, oh! You! Oh, this is fantastic! I’ve been hoping to see -“

You slammed your fist again. “Answer me! What the hell did I inhale!”

He shrank, and squeaked. “Oh, uh, that’s … that’s complicated.”

“How so?” You sneered.

“Well,” he fidgeted, his tentacles squirming around. “I don’t know exactly what I gave you.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I … I was experimenting with my toxin and - and I was constantly adding new compounds to it or trying to rewrite it.”

You clicked your tongue, and raised an eyebrow.

“And well, I was trying to make it stronger, more of a deadly venom than a paralyzing agent.”

“And so you don’t know what you gave me or what was in it?”

“… no … I needed more time to study it.”

“Fantastic.”

“Well, what are your symptoms? Tell me, what are you feeling? Any discomfort? Any pain? What about hallucinations?”

He was like a giddy child.

“Oh, yeah definitely some discomforts,” you sarcastically replied. You shook your head and turned away. He shouted after you, but you simply ignored him. It took all of your strength and willpower to not break through the containment and pummel him.

Taking calming breaths, you swiftly left the area. Passing by all the anomalies, each of them shouted at you as you tried to think of a way to make this suffering end. Peter W. Parker apparently was still in the medical wing dealing with his paralysis. So, time seemed to be the only reasonable solution you could think of. And it had been a day, surely it would wear off by now.

Even if you felt worse every hour.

“(Y/N).”

A hand curled around your wrist.

A fire unfurled in the pit of your stomach by such a delicate touch. You shuddered. You kept your head trained forward, and your back to the last person you wanted to see. He couldn’t see you like this.

Not now, not after yesterday.

“What’s wrong?” Miguel asked, then took in your disgruntled appearance. “You look like …”

Horrible? Like shit?

“It’s nothing, I’m fine,” you quickly answered, tugging your wrist out of his grasp.

“Clearly,” he sarcastically replied.

You bit your tongue. Dear god, his voice. So smooth, so rich. “I’m tired, okay? So, I’m just going home.”

“Wait -“

“Good day, Miguel.” You pressed a button and stepped through the portal.

Miguel clenched his fists. He was about to chase after you when Lyla appeared saying others needed him. Begrudgingly, he left. But, this wasn’t the end for him. He will get a proper answer from you.

You sighed deeply, standing back in your room alone. You collapsed forward onto the bed. A muffled groan erupted from you.

I can get through this, I’ll be fine.

An hour passed.

An ice pack, barely cold anymore, laid across your forehead. Your pants and underwear were discarded. You constantly tugged on the collar of your shirt and fanned yourself. Your body ached. You wanted to claw at your skin, you wanted to rip your hair out, you wanted -

You wanted Miguel. God, you wanted him terribly. You wanted him to bend you over.

“Just like that,” you imagined he would coo as he slipped his cock inside of you.

You tried pleasuring yourself, but nothing helped. Nothing satiated you. This swelling sensation only became more and more intense.

You hissed and curled up onto your side. The ice pack slid off your forehead. You lazily picked it up, tossing it onto your nightstand. Your eyes blinked slowly. You stared blankly at the wall, trying to focus on something - anything. Anything but the dampness between your legs, anything but your spiraling perverted thoughts.

Move.

Do something.

Call for help.

You languidly pushed yourself up, and hunched forward. Your head fell into your hands. Your chest continued to heave and tighten. Your heart pounded and rang in your ears. “Fuck me,” you muttered under your breath.

“Only if you ask nicely,” Miguel chuckled.

You shivered.

Almost summoned by your thoughts, yellow and orange lights burst to life behind you. You twisted around. A portal opened up, and a familiar hulking figure walked through: Miguel. Seeing his face, your heart sank. You whipped back around, unable and unwilling to face him.

Why? Why the hell was he here?

He squinted, seeing your decrepit posture on the edge of your bed. “Still fine I see.”

You rolled your eyes. “What do you want? I’m trying to rest.”

Miguel shuffled over. “I came here to see why you’ve been acting weird.”

“It’s nothing.”

He sighed, a short disappointed sigh. He lowered himself onto your bed. A notable gap was between the two of you. Yet, you could feel the heat roll off of him. You unconsciously leaned slightly towards him, desperately seeking him out.

“Talk to me.”

I’m worried about you, he thought.

He hadn’t stopped worrying. You were constantly on the forefront of his mind. Most of all, he wondered why you were avoiding him. Why were you locking yourself away in your room? What happened?

You stayed silent.

Miguel gently rested his hand on your shoulder. “Look -“

You flinched. You leapt away and hastily took a few steps away from him. “Don’t touch me.”

One touch and your body nearly crumbled.

His hand fell. Shock evident on his typically stoic face. His fist clenched. Anger was now getting the better part of him. “I’m trying to help you.”

You hugged yourself, keeping your back to him. “I’m - I'm fine.”

“No, you’re not.” He stood up. “Tell me what’s wrong?”

“I’m fine,” you repeated harshly.

Miguel clicked his tongue. He had enough of your constant dismissal. He grabbed your shoulders and whirled you around to finally face him. You gasped. He stared intently down at you, dissecting and analyzing you. You were panting, your skin glistened with sweat, and notably your pupils were completely dilated.

“What -“

You jerked away from him. And you unconsciously rubbed your thighs together.

Oh. Oh.

Miguel’s cheeks darkened faintly. He placed his hands on his hips, and glanced away. He cleared his throat, “How … how long have you been like … like that?”

You crossed your arms, and sighed. There was no use hiding it anymore. “Since our encounter with Doc Ock.”

His eyes flickered up. “So, he did do something to you.”

“… yes.”

“Which was?”

“He … he threw some substance at me and I accidentally inhaled it.”

He rubbed the spot between his brows, a common place for his headaches to start. “And why did you tell me?”

You tsked and sneered, “Oh sorry, boss, I can’t come in today. I can’t focus or do anything because I am unbelievably and painfully horny.”

God, this is humiliating.

Miguel sighed deeply, dropped his shoulders. “Well, maybe Doc Ock can -“

“He can’t help. I already confronted him, he was just a mad scientist who didn’t know what he created.”

He shifted his weight side to side. “Well, have you … you know …”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Miguel, we are not having this conversation.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. His eyes scanned over you again. God, he couldn’t deny that you were absolutely delectable right now. His mind ran rampant with impure thoughts. It was the way your lips parted as you breathed heavily, it was the way your body squirmed, it was the way you desperately tried to bury the noises ready to jump out, it was the way you adamantly avoided his gaze, it was the way your hardened nipples poke through your shirt, it was the way how he could smell you and your arousal.

He wasn’t blind to your beauty. He was simply ignorant to his feelings and attraction. He buried it deep within him, unwilling to acknowledge any of it. But, seeing you now, seeing the discomfort you were in, seeing you in such a needy state, he wanted to help. He took a cautious step forward, “Maybe I can help.”

You snapped your head up, staring wide eyed at him. “What?”

“I said maybe I can -“

You shook your head and backed yourself away from him until your back bumped into the wall. “No, no, what needs to happen is that you need to leave.” Swallowing down such desire, you closed your eyes and muttered, “Just go.”

“I’m not leaving.”

Fucking hell.

You shouted, “Just get the hell out of here!”

Miguel didn’t respond. Cracking open your eyes, his gaze bore directly into you. It was a searing gaze. Your knees nearly buckled under the intensity. He stepped closer.

“Please,” you whispered, practically begging. “I - I … just … just not like this, not because of my dumb mistake.”

He froze, and his eyebrows knitted together.

Your gaze dropped to the ground. You couldn’t - and wouldn’t - look at him.

He slowly continued to walk towards you. You forced down a whimper. Sandwiched between the wall and him, he gently grabbed your chin. You flinched and squeezed your eyes shut. It pained you immensely to fight so fiercely against your desires and needs. He tipped your chin up. “Look at me.”

You kept your eyes closed, and your face scrunched up.

“Por favor, cariño. Please, look at me.”

Your heart flipped at his unusually sweet tone. You opened up your eyes, and was immediately greeted by his strangely, endearing, rosy crimson eyes.

“Good,” he murmured.

Oh, fuck.

Biting down on your tongue, you forced down any noises that almost dared to crawl out. You dug your nails into your palms. You wouldn’t dare touch him because if you did you wouldn’t let go.

“If I didn’t care for you in this way, I wouldn’t be here. I would be back at HQ working on a cure, on some antidote.” His other hand reached out and rested on your hip. He drew you close, flushing you to his chest. “But, am I at HQ right now?”

You didn’t trust your voice. You simply shook your head, a small twitch.

“You’re right, I’m not. I’m right here asking - begging - to let me help you.” He bent his head down, brushing his lips over yours. “Please, I want to help … I’ve … I’ve wanted this for so long.”

“Miguel.”

“Please.”

You let out a shaky breath. “I don’t … I don’t know what’ll do. I don’t know if I can control myself.”

He slowly pulled up the hem of your shirt. His hand skimmed across your lower back. He laughed once, “I can handle it. Please, let me help.”

His fingers lightly touched your skin. A groan rumbled in the back of your throat. “I don’t want you to think differently of me,” you whispered as your eyes dropped to his lips.

Your excuses were hollow now.

He moved his head, letting his lips brush over your neck. His hands snaked further up your back, and his talons gently scraped down. You moaned, arching your back into his touch. Your hands latched onto his biceps, squeezing them.

“My opinion of you won’t change,” he muttered into your neck. His leg slid between yours. Your swollen clit rubbed against his massive thigh.

“Fuck,” you hissed, clinging onto him.

“Just say yes, cariño.” He nuzzled his face into your neck. “I want to help.”

You cupped his face, looking directly into his eyes. His eyes were begging, pleading, for you. You brought him down, giving him a sweet, loving kiss. He hummed, wrapping his arms around you. However, you quickly broke the kiss before he could truly enjoy it.

Miguel didn’t understand. How would he know? He inadvertently poured gasoline over the already raging fire inside of you. Your eyes darkened. You pushed Miguel backwards until his knees hit the edge of the bed and he flopped backward. He held himself up on his forearms, stunned by your sudden change.

A smirk curled over your lips. A beast, one you had been holding back for more than a day, was finally unleashed. Locking eyes with him, you slowly stripped out of your shirt - your only article of clothing - letting it dramatically drop to the floor.

Miguel’s eyes greedily drank in your naked figure.

You crawled onto his lap, straddling him. You pushed him down so he laid flat against the bed. His hands instantly rested on your waist. You hovered over him, planting your hands on either side of his head.

He looked up at you with absolute adoration. He could not describe how thrilled he was right now.

You bent down, kissing him passionately. As you took the lead, you opened your mouth, deepening the kiss. Miguel hummed. He brought your hips down, making you grind down on him. You moaned into the kiss. Breaking apart, you muttered, “Fuck.”

You peppered kisses all over his face, and across his jaw. You desperately wanted to trail your lips all over him. It was such a ravenous feeling. You needed to mark him, to bite him, to taste him.

“Take the suit off,” you murmured, kissing the corner of his jaw.

He let out a pleased sigh. The digital suit retracted with a whirl of colors, revealing himself to you. You bit the inside of your cheek as you felt the tip of his cock brush against your inner thigh. Your lips brushed down his neck. He tilted his head, allowing you better access to do whatever you wished. Your heart soared. You slowly - teasingly so - kissed the crook of his neck. His grip on your hips tightened. Like a switch, you attacked his neck. Your teeth scraped across his sensitive skin. You nipped all along his neck needing to mark his skin. Oh, it excited you to know that these bruises would be under his suit tomorrow. Your tongue swirled over soothing any pains.

Miguel moaned.

What a beautiful sound.

Stopping your attack on his now blemished neck, your lips trailed further down his body. You kissed over his chest, occasionally biting his skin. Your eyes flickered up, seeing his head tilt back. You ran your teeth over his nipples. He groaned. You licked up his chest, tasting the saltiness of his sweat. You kissed up his jaw to his ear, and gently nibbled on his lope.

Miguel clenched his jaw. His heart flipped in his chest. He didn’t expect this, he didn’t expect to ever be here like this with you. He surely didn’t expect the control you quickly had over him.

And oh, he loved it.

Lifting yourself up, you teasingly rubbed his tip across your dripping folds. He groaned, almost whimpering.

“Fuck, Miguel,” you moaned.

At such a simple movement, you were seeing stars. You weren’t sure how long you would last. You wanted to draw this out longer, you wanted to have more fun with him, but you couldn’t.

You needed him. And you were nearly insatiable.

You slowly sank down on his cock. Miguel hissed. You placed your hands on his chest, panting. Miguel soothingly rubbed his thumbs over your hips. You moaned, feeling how he stretched and filled you. No one made you feel this full or good. As you bottomed out, you swore under your breath.

Miguel chuckled to himself.

But, his amusement was cut short when you started to move. Lust flooded back into his veins. He moaned out your name. His talons popped out and dug into your hips.

You set the pace, a nearly brutal but wondrous pace.

And Miguel thought you looked divine.

Your head tilted back to the heavens. Your lips parted as you whispered his name like a prayer. Your body arched like an angel soaring up, like a renaissance painting. Your hands traced up your hypnotic body, playing with your breasts. He wanted to draw you back down, he wanted to shower you in kisses, he wanted to flip you over and pound into you. But, this was all for you. You were the one who was affected by something strange, you were the one to take the lead. You rolled your head, glancing down at him. A soft smile tugged on your lips.

Oh, the way you looked at him, the way you bounced on his cock, the way your eyes softened with affection, he felt his heart was going to explode.

His cock twitched inside of you.

You hummed.

You rolled your hips, and he swore in Spanish. Smirking, you changed the pace. It was slow and easy - just to have your fun, no matter how short lived it might be - then flipped to hard and fast - desperate to reach your end. And your end was coming quickly.

You happily split yourself and continuously moaned out his name. “Miguel,” you moaned, dropping your hands back on his chest. “I - I won’t last much longer.”

Miguel felt your walls clench around you. He gritted his teeth, and moaned. “That’s okay, that’s okay,” he whispered.

He helped you, lifting your hips along with your movements. He slammed you back down right as he bucked his hips up, grinding you further onto him. You gasped and swore.

“Fuck, Miguel, keep doing that,” you whimpered.

He smirked, enjoying your sounds. Moving you faster, you pounded on his cock. Your nails scratched across his chest in red ribbons. The coil tightened and tightened in the pit of your stomach.

You whined.

Miguel wanted to squeeze his eyes shut and lose himself in the feeling of you. But, he also wanted to watch you come undone. So, he watched hungrily.

It was getting sloppy and erratic.

You closed your eyes. You dropped your head, tucking your chin to your chest. But, fingers gently guided your chin back up. “Eyes on me,” Miguel murmured. “Please, I want to see it.”

You melted into his touch, then he bucked his hips right as you went down. The coil snapped. Your walls clamped down around him as your orgasm crashed through you. You moaned out his name as you stared down at him with hooded eyes.

Miguel clenched his jaw. Oh, what a sight. His cock jumped.

Your movements, however, didn’t slow down. You wanted Miguel to cum, you wanted to feel it. You grabbed Miguel’s face and forced him to sit up. You kissed him heatedly as you still rode him. Miguel hummed. Your fingers threaded into his dark curls, and yanked on them.

He whined.

Your eyes sparkled. “Come on, Miguel. Cum for me.”

Miguel shivered. Your words, your body, it was so wondrous. He bucked his hips up, cumming inside of you.

Finally stopping your relentless movement, you dropped your head onto his shoulder. Both of you were gasping for air. Your eyes flickered down, seeing the mess you both created.

You shivered.

Miguel, however, surprised you. He flipped you over, landing you on your back. You gasped. Before you could do or say anything, Miguel dropped to his knees onto the floor, yanked your body down the bed, then nestled his face between your legs.

He devoured you like a starved man.

Your lips parted in a silent moan as your eyes rolled back. You arched your back, and tangled your fingers into his hair.

He wanted to taste you. God, he dreamt of this so many times. Although, he didn’t dare admit it out loud. He groaned. He lifted one of your legs, tossing it over his shoulder. His hands fiercely grabbed your thighs. His talons scraped along your inner thigh. He buried his face deeper. His nose brushed over your already sensitive clit and you cried out. He growled, the taste of you and him on his tongue was divine.

“Miguel,” you gasped.

He forcibly pulled himself away, panting. His chin and lips were covered in mixed juices. His eyes were lit with primal desires. He smirked, flashing his fangs. You scrambled up. You grabbed the back of his neck, smashing your lips to his. You easily slipped your tongue inside his mouth, swirling it around. You hummed in delight, tasting him and yourself.

You still wanted more.

Needed more.

The residual of whatever affected you still lingered.

You pulled away from him. Your combined hot breaths filled the minimal space between the two of you. With you still on the bed on your knees, you finally had some height over Miguel. You cupped his face, and tilted his chin up. His arms wrapped around your waist, pressing you into him. You smiled then brushed your thumb over his lip. Without hesitation, he parted his lips and you slipped your thumb into his mouth. His tongue ran over the pad of your thumb, and the tip of his fang grazed over it.

You shivered, causing him to smirk.

You removed your thumb. You couldn’t help yourself. You leaned down, kissing him sweetly again. It was a confession, and a thank you. He sighed into the kiss. You slowly parted, lingering for a second. It was so tender, despite the cum and saliva coating his chin and your lips. And your following words reminded Miguel how and why he got into this bizarre, surreal situation.

“I want you to fuck me from behind,” you whispered.

Miguel’s eyebrows shot up for a moment, then he chuckled. “Of course,” he purred. Whatever you wanted, he was happy to do. “Can you get on your hands and knees for me?”

You bit back a smile. Your fingers skimmed along his jaw as you backed away and got into position. Miguel watched, transfixed. His eyes trailed down. Seeing your soaking folds, he moaned softly. He can still taste you on his tongue. He licked his lips. Crawling onto the bed, he carefully grabbed your hips.

“You’re too good for me,” he confessed quietly.

You sighed under the simple praise.

He lined himself up, just teasing your entrance. You began to fist the sheets in anticipation. He leaned down. His broad chest pressed firmly into your back, and he whispered in your ear, “But now, let me be good for you.”

He easily pushed himself in.

You moaned unabashedly.

“That’s it, let me hear you,” he grunted.

This round was hot and fast. There wasn’t adoration or love this time, this was solely desires and sins. This was using each other’s bodies.

And Miguel was animalistic. God, it was utter bliss.

You grinded back, meeting his thrusts. You dropped down onto your forearms unable to support yourself fully. Your face buried into the sheets as you cried out. His cock was kissing spots you didn’t think was possible.

Miguel smiled, enjoying your muffled sounds and how you squirmed. His fingers reached around and began to play with your clit. You swore as your body shuddered. Your walls fluttered around him.

He rolled his head back at the sensation. It was as if you were made perfectly for him.

“Miguel,” you whined.

You wanted this so badly. You moved your hips feverishly in tune with his. Skin slapped together, wet noises echoed, and voices cried out. Miguel gasped. His talons buried into your hips, drawing out small specs of blood. He gritted his teeth, almost baring his fangs.

“Ay dios mío,” he grumbled.

Neither of you would last long.

You were begging under your breath. You needed it, you needed him. “Fuck, Miguel, please.”

“I know, I got you,” he groaned, pounding into you. “Let go, cum for me.”

You moaned.

With his fingers, his pace, and your already stimulated body, you came. You gushed around his cock, and slumped heavily into the bed. As your walls clamped down again, Miguel hissed as he spilled himself inside of you. He continued to gently rocked his hips as you both came back down to reality.

The air buzzed with the aftermath.

Your grip on the sheets loosened. You turned your head, glancing back at him: his chest covered in new bruises, his sweat covered forehead, and his fangs and talons were still out. You shivered at the sight. His eyes flickered over, connecting with yours. He gave you a tired smile. He bent down and kissed the spot between your shoulder blades.

You hummed softly.

Miguel rolled onto the bed. His arms wrapped around your waist as flushed your back to his chest. His now softened cock still buried inside.

“Better?” He murmured into your ear.

You nodded.

“Good,” he sighed. “Just … just stay like this with me, please.”

To be fair, you had no energy to argue or care. A day of exhaustion finally caught up to you. You relaxed into his embrace, enjoying the comfort as well as the fullness of him still inside of you. You placed a hand over top of his and intertwined your fingers with his. You squeezed his hand.

“Thank you,” you muttered.

He kissed your shoulder. “You’re welcome. Now rest, cariño, I got you.”

I always will, he thought as you drifted off in his arms completely satisfied.

#across the spiderverse #spiderverse #atsv #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x afab!reader #miguel x reader #miguel x afab!reader #afab!reader #smut

[strawbeerossi]

August || Chapter Four

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid, fem!reader x Emily Prentiss 

Description: After you and Emily leave the office for lunch together, you two enjoy each other’s company.

Content/Warnings: Pure fluff, flirting, developing feelings, kissing 

WC: 1.6K

Chapter Five will come out whenever this one gets 450 notes, just like I did for this chapter!

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The elevator door was soon opening in front of you, the arguing in the bullpen being unheard as you and Emily were soon walking through the open doors. “I’m glad we’ve been hanging out a lot more.” You broke the silence, a smile gracing your features.

“Me too. I can’t believe it took us this long to spend time together like this. It’s been nice.” Emily smiled in return while letting an arm wrap around your shoulders. 

For the first time in a while, you felt content. You didn’t feel the need to push everyone away and close yourself off from the world. All you needed was the extra support and reassurance. 

“It’s gonna be nice to get out of the office. It’s a nice day out. Maybe we can find somewhere with an outside dining area?” She suggested while glancing in your direction once the doors of the elevator were opening up to the parking garage, the two of you heading to Emily’s car together. 

“I think that sounds perfect. Be careful, Prentiss. I may get used to being spoiled.” You teased while looking in her direction.

“I think I can handle it if it comes down to that.” She teased in return. “It’ll just give me an excuse to take you out more.” 

The words had your face flushing as you offered a smile. “You shouldn’t need an excuse!” You mused while getting into the passenger seat of her car. You felt so.. Cared for. Emily had done a great job at offering the utmost support for you in your endeavors to get over the loss of two friendships.

She never let you lose yourself in the process, offering a shoulder to cry on at any time. It was her kindness and affection that made you grow into the person you’d become. 

The drive was peaceful, some light conversation over minor things going on around you, both accompanied with the soft music playing from the radio. It was comfortable, something that you’d grown accustomed to feeling with Emily. Part of you felt like she was doing it to be a good friend. The other part had you swooning over the possibility of her being interested in you. 

You knew better than to just assume after the Spencer debacle that threw you in for a loop, but it was nice to just sit back and be able to think about the endless possibilities that could come from this. You didn’t need anyone to be happy, but you always liked the idea of settling with someone you cared for. 

You knew you were thinking way too far ahead in this instance, however you didn’t let it deter you from continuing to dream over a possible love story. 

The arrival at the small cafe in downtown Quantico was what pulled you from your thoughts, your eyes looking out the window to see the colorful umbrellas over a few tables outside. “It’s not fine dining but..” Emily began before you were shaking your head. 

“I think it’s perfect.” 

With a smile on your face, you were opening your door and getting out of the car. There was a sigh of content coming from you as you could feel the warmth of the sun hitting your skin. The weather was just yet another indicator that today was going to be a good day. 

For the first time in a while, you weren’t thinking of Spencer. Instead, you were focused on Emily, on feeling appreciated by someone who was close to you. 

Emily had pulled the door open for you, letting you walk in ahead of her as you approached the front desk. After requesting a table outside, the hostess was more than happy to walk you both into the patio section, placing two menus on the table. 

“This feels too fancy. Sitting outside like this might’ve been too much.” Emily joked, the both of you chuckling. “How have you been feeling lately?” She then asked, picking up the menu in front of her to look over her options with a soft hum.

“I’ve been alright. Mostly focused on work. Oh! But I am thinking about getting a cat. Pen has been mentioning how lonely old man Sergio is so I might have to get a kitten to keep the old man on his toes.” You teased. “Plus, a cat playdate is probably the cutest thing I’ve thought about all year.”

“So you haven’t been thinking about me then? I’m hurt!” The woman let out a dramatic sigh as her hand rested against her chest. “I thought what we had was special.”

“You’ve always had a flair for the dramatics, haven’t you?” You commented, flashing an amused smile. 

“Maybe.. It’s easier to get attention that way. Extra attention when it comes to you.” She teased as she was placing her menu on the table. “A cat will keep you busy though, trust me. I remember when I had Sergio home with me, he was a wild child. Still probably the only man I ever needed though.” She laughed.

“At least he didn’t talk back, right?” You added on, letting out a laugh of your own. 

Talking with Emily eased your mind on a lot of things. You had assumed she had some verbal  crack sprinkled into your conversations, making you want to talk with her all day and all night. You could’ve sworn you had withdrawals when you were apart for too long, like the weekends without cases.

Lunch went smoothly, just lighthearted conversation and some good laughs. Instead of feeling trapped in your own thoughts, you were sitting there talking and laughing, letting loose and growing increasingly more comfortable. It was a shame you had to go back to work after though. 

Whenever the two of you were leaving the restaurant, you were getting settled into the passenger seat while Emily was starting the drive back to the office.

It made you wonder about what happened back in the bullpen, if there were any more snide comments made by either Spencer or JJ. Then again, it had been a while since they had even glanced in your direction, well; you thought that way. You knew you couldn’t hold on to that anger forever, but you had to admit; it was slipping away much slower than you would’ve liked.

In a way, you were just glad that you didn’t need to worry about it. On the other hand, you missed your friends. That’s what they were before all of this and now the title was stripped and you were left with two acquaintances. 

You dreaded the idea of letting them go entirely. Even with anger for JJ and Spencer, you did still care about them. It was hard not to, especially after knowing them for so many years. You still thought about the inside jokes, stories, even poking fun at one another. The time spent along them made you into the person who you were. You just never expected for things to do a somersault in the way that they did.

“Are you alright over there?” Emily broke the silence, noticing the way you were deep in thought. “You know you can talk to me.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m okay. Just thinking of how it’s gonna be back at the office. I really don’t want to go back and do paperwork.” You groaned, offering a smile.

Emily didn’t buy that excuse. “Are you sure? You looked pretty out of it and you’re not even like that on the hardest of cases. Talk to me.”

God damn it. You should’ve known that the profiler in the driver’s seat would know better.

“I’m just worried about my friendship with Spencer and JJ. I know I’ve acted like a fool for months over that whole situation but.. They are still my friends, well, they were. I don’t wanna lose them entirely, but what if I have to?”

“You don’t have to lose them. You’re a good person, that’s why you care. I think in time, friendships can be mended and things can go back to seminormal.” She assured, her hand reaching over to rest on your knee.

It was a simple touch, but it made your face feel hot as you looked out the passenger side window. “I’m sure it will, but it still scares me.” You sighed while placing one of your hands over Emily’s. “Thanks for listening and reassuring me.” You added, making the woman shrug as she was turning into the parking garage before approaching her spot, her hand pulling away from yours as she was pulling in.

“You don’t have to thank me. It’s what I’m here for, you know that. You’re not a baby for having feelings, remember that. Emotions make you human.” The words were further reassurance. She really knew just what to say.

The two of you were heading back to the elevator together, hopping on as you hit the button for the floor you needed. “Lunch today was fun. Definitely a great way to celebrate us finishing paperwork.” You teased as you turned back to Emily, the woman playfully nudging your arm. 

“You’re getting it next time. I hope you know that.” 

“Fine.” You groaned in a dramatic fashion, glancing at the woman with a smile.

There was a content silence between the both of you, although there was another presence in the elevator. A light tension that you couldn’t quite place. 

While you were deep in your thoughts trying to figure out the warmth washing over the both of you, Emily was putting her hand gently against your cheek, the delicate touch making you blink back to reality. Before you knew it, that tension was dissolving as you felt a soft pair of lips pressing against yours. The kiss felt so right.

Although as soon as the doors were opening, you were both quickly pulling away from each other at the sounds of a mug shattering on the floor. 

“What the fuck?” Spencer's voice echoed through the hall.

#strawbeerossi august series #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid series #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #doctor spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid au #emily prentiss fandom #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss fic #emily prentiss fanfiction #

[lethalchiralium]

Mirrorball | John Price x F!Reader

a/n: me?? posting??? in this economy?? unheard of. this is definitely not me writing needy price whaaaat

warnings: mentions of injury, trauma

summary: You’re trying to sleep, but someone wakes you up with a long awaited phone call. OR, John’s outside of your door, begging for forgiveness.

It was a work day tomorrow and someone had the audacity to call you in the middle of the night. Your eyes tried to blink away the murkiness of sleep as you answered the call, not even paying attention to the ‘Unknown Caller’ blinking at the top of the screen.

“Hey.”

Your head fell back into your pillow, your hand holding your phone to your ear.

“Yes, John.”

“Don’t be that way.”

Your hand gripped your phone a little more, now that you were waking up more.

“Well, seeing that it’s…” You pulled the phone from your ear, looking at the time on the screen, “2:45 in the morning on a Tuesday, you’re only calling ‘cause you’re bored.”

There was a scoff on the line. “Why can’t you just accept that maybe I’m worried about you?”

Your eyes were still closed, your eyebrows furrowed and you mumbled, “Tell me what you want or I’m hanging up.”

There was silence. Just the warmth that flooded through your chest every time you heard his low breathing; a signal, a waypoint, your reminder that no matter how much you want to turn away, there’s no escape from your desperate need for John Price. Your fingernails dug into your pillowcase, tears that have broken glass now soak the silk underneath your head. You could almost smell the rich tobacco that seemed to envelop his clothes and his worn skin - he was the feeling of sunlight reflected on shattered glass. Shining just for you.

You could imagine his hand curling your hair behind your ear, his soft lips pressing kisses into your hairline, your shoulder, your spine. You had memorized the way his hand would gently graze over your side, featherlight movement as he would whisper his promises, his mantras, but ignore your desires.

“M’here.”

Even in your half-asleep state, you felt a rush of confusion.

“You were in Afghanistan last night.”

“I lied.”

“You seem to do that often, John.”

Silence again. Your eyes opened to your dimly light room, the small light plugged into your wall helped you make out everything in your room. The jacket of his that still was tossed over the back of your favorite chair, most of his clothes hung in your closet - deep browns and dreary grays that were pressed against your bright blues, greens, and yellows. His breathtaking fiancé dressed in all of the colors that made you feel happy - but all were a farce, a lie wrapped up in a fairy tale. You weren’t happy. How could you be happy when your whole world decided to break your heart?

“Tell me what you want or I’m hanging up, John. I mean it.”

Silence. You could hear the quiet bustle of Liverpool outside your window, the street lamp’s warm light hidden by your dark curtains. Curtains he used to move at this time of night to open your window, he would burn the end of his cigar and watch the city lights.

Now, he stood outside your front door, without even a knock.

“What I did to you wasn’t right, I knew that then and I know that now. Screaming at you and telling you I never wanted to see you again was the biggest mistake of my life. I love you. And love isn’t supposed to be like that. I-I was… I was scared. I am scared. I’m scared of what you think of me, I was scared of what almost happened to me, I’m terrified to lose you.”

“Stop.”

“Please. I’m here.”

“What do you want, John?”

“I want come home.“

Another pause.

“Please let me in.”

Your stomach lurched.

You hated that you sat up, lethargic body dragged behind your mind as you silently made your way to your front door; cold phone pressed to your ear. He was a warm light, you were like a late night moth - hearing the familiar hum of one John Price.

“I’ll do anything, love. Please.”

You stretched your arms as you stood on your tallest tip toes, it reminded you of spinning on your highest heels, just for him. You could remember his hands, gentle on your hand and waist as he had laughed deeply in that ballroom all those years ago. The way his touch never differed from anything gentle or soft, even as he held your hips in late nights, pulling loud moans and cries from you as he fucked you passionately. The way he whispered your name like gospel as you sobbed into his chest. It was impossible to forget what he’s done for you - and what actions he made that caused you pain.

He was made of a broken spotlight, his light reflected on you. Your mirror pieces had fell long ago, your fingers still bleed from picking up your shards, from pressing them into place so when he came around, you would reflect his slowly dimming light just like a mirror ball.

Your hand pulled open the door, gazing at the man you so painstakingly loved - face dirty, scarf disheveled around his neck, beanie snug on his head. You didn’t care that his rough hands gripped your hips, metaphorically pressing in the glass shards like always. He pulled you to him, your face landed in his scarf as he wrapped you in his freezing embrace. You moved to rest your chin on top of the scratchy wool, your lips right next to his ear.

“Are you hurt?”

He walked both of you into the apartment, skillfully kicking the door closed as he held you tighter. A fist on your lower back, a steel grip on your shoulder as his nose was firmly pressed into your (bonnet/hair). You could feel his chest, how it didn’t dare expand - he was holding his breath. As if he let you slip, that the mirrorball he adored would shatter into a thousand pieces. Your hand pushed into the back of his ribcage, moving in soothing circles.

“Breathe, John.”

You expected a harsh exhale, something loud in your ear, but all you received was a soft sigh through his nose. The freezing clothes that clung to him began to warm, his heartbeat erratic - you could feel it in his back, right behind his heart.

“Are you hurt?” You asked again.

He didn’t answer, silence was his weapon of choice now. He was full of words on the phone, telling you things you wished to hear earlier - oh shit, your phone. The phone you dropped on the floor before opening the door, hopefully it wasn’t broken. You had so many of him on there. So many photos of him hanging off your arm, lips pressed against your soft skin, eyes gazing lovingly at you.

“What do you need?”

You need me. I know you like the back of my hand.

That’s when he let go, pulling away from you to show fresh tears on his flushed face. Your eyes widened with concern, you tried to reach his face but his hands intercepted yours - holding them with a firm grip.

“I don’t need you to forgive me.” His voice was melancholy, a melody of grief and fear that you had never heard before. “I am an awful man. Rubbish. I hurt the one good thing in my life because I thought you hating me would be easier for me to die with.”

Your stomach coiled up into a knot, tight and uncomfortable.

Your fiancé held back a sob as he spoke, “I got hit. I almost died, all I could think about was how much you would hate yourself because I made you hate me. I don’t want that. I want to be by your side forever, I want you to put me in my place, I want you to take everything from me because I am not worthy of anything without you.” His hands squeezed yours. “I want to lay beside you for as long as I live. I want to only know you for the rest of my life. I want to do everything you ask of me.”

“What do you need, John?” Your voice softer than ever before.

He blinked away tears. “I need you to teach me how to truly be a better man. I need you to guide me. I need you to love me. I need you.”

You had told yourself a thousand times that he would never crawl on his knees to you, that his pride would destroy you, that he would never show weakness to you - but here he was. Showing his belly, giving you the chance to deliver the final blow.

You supposed he was waiting for it. Waiting for your teeth to sink in and rip him apart like a chew toy, scream at him until your voice ran hoarse, push him away until he fell onto his ass. But… you couldn’t. You were ready to walk away from him ten minutes ago, but now it’s… terrifying. Walking away from the one thing keeping you whole.

You squeezed his hands. “Marry me, John Price.”

His eyebrows furrowed, he was about to question you. But you spoke again. “Marry me today and show me that all that you said was a promise.”

He didn’t nod for long as he let go of your hands, grabbed your face and kissed you - pushing your head backwards as he pressed his entire body to you. You didn’t care anymore if he cut himself on your glass, you were sure he would fix the edge just to keep you happy.

Keep you spinning like his favorite mirrorball, shining just for him.

Copyright © 2023 lethalchiralium. All rights reserved.

#lethalchiralium #keri writes #call of duty #captain john price #john price #john price x reader #john price x female reader #john price x f!reader #captain price #captain price x reader #captain john price x reader #captain price x female reader #captain price x f!reader #captain john price x female reader #captain john price x f!reader

[baby-dr1ver]

kinktober <3

wearing the others clothes

oscar x reader

Oscars POV: It was  along day of of going over data and Andrea making me and Lando color in the lines. Track limits were a bitch, but I felt worse for Lando than me. I already texted Y/N that I was on my way back to the hotel, and I would bring dinner. She hadn’t texted back but, it wasn’t out of the ordinary. Working remotely had it’s perks, like getting to travel with me to almost every race. 

I struggle to open the door with everything in my hand, and I expected for Y/N  to run and help as soon as I was through the door. Instead, I was met with silence, the lights were dimmed and I didn’t see her anywhere. I set things down on the dresser and called her name a few times. “Babe? Y/N?” I sat on the bed heavily, and heard a small groan. I turned to face the lump on the bed, that I missed the first time, and saw her head poking out the top. I pulled the blankets away from her face and saw a familiar number on the back of her hoodie. My number to be exact, she’s wearing my hoodie. We haven’t been together long, well,  10 months to be exact. I guess that could be a long time. Either way, she hasn’t worn anything of mine yet, I mean she has her own Mclaren merch and she looks amazing in it. But it’s a different feeling when she’s wearing my clothes, and she smells like me. It makes me chest warm and fuzzy. 

Instead of waking her, I change out of my own gear and climb into bed next to her. She makes a small noise when I pull her back against me, but settles as soon as I kiss her temple and squeeze her waist. I push my face into her neck, taking in her scent mixed with mine. This…this was a different feeling then just seeing her in my clothes this was..this stirred something new in him. 

He didn’t ponder for long, the alluring smells and feelings pulled him into sleep. 

He texted her the next day to let her know that a car would be there to pick her up before the race started. He had to be in the garage extra early to meet with Zak and his strategist. Starting P1 was big, huge even. As a rookie I was not supposed to be having this great of a season, 2 podiums in a row? Unheard of. 

It was 15 min until the race started and I made my way out of the garage to see everyone before I started my last minute prep. I spotted Y/N talking to one of my engineers and laughing and fuck me did she look gorgeous. She’s wearing my team shirt with my name and number on it, how do you know it’s yours do you ask? Because it’s about three sizes to big on her-and she’s got my favorite pair of jeans she owns on, they’re baggy and they make her look quite tall. And her hair is in a little half do thing, she’s got braids framing her face with ribbons tied at the end. She knows I love when she uses bows in her hair, makes her look so innocent and pure. 

She found me and waved me over. “Osc!” My legs were on auto pilot, my body magnetized to hers and she wrapped me in a hug. “Hi baby, glad you made it. Is that my shirt?” I asked nonchalantly. She pulls away, “yeah sorry, the rest of my papaya things were dirty.” She frowns and looks down. “I should have asked first I’m sor-” 

“No hey, I love it. You don’t ever have to ask to wear my clothes baby.” She blushed and looked down at her feet. I giggled at her reaction, and I lean forward to kiss her forehead. One of my hands found it;s way under her shirt (read: mine) to rest along her stomach. It was nothing new for either of us, it was a comfort to both. However, what was new was a thick band where her underwear would be. Upon furher investigation, oh fuck oh fuck she’s wearing my boxers. For fucks sake mate do not get a boner right now, it is not the time. 

“Is there anything of mine you aren’t wearing? Your dedicated, boxers and everything.” She looked up at me with a guilty look. “I was in a rush this morning, I over slept big time,  and it was the first bottoms I found. The jeans are mine and my soxs-well the socks are Lando’s merch. The white ones with the ‘LN4’ stitched on the side.” As she lifted her pant leg so I could see, a nasty feeling bloomed in my chest. I didn’t like that she was wearing anything associated with Lando. 

“You know what, I have some socks in my drivers room, you can wear those. No need to wear those pesky things.” I started to pull her towards the hallway that led to my room when she stopped me once we were out of earshot of people. “Oscar! What is going on love? You seemed fine just a minute ago, now your in a tizzy.” She had that stance, the mom stance is what I affectionately called it. Hands on her hips, one leg popped out, not good. 

I sighed, “I just, your MY y/n, not Landos. I want you to wear my things.” I mumbled the last part, as if she wouldn’t catch on. 

Y/N pouted and cupped my cheeks, pushing up on her toes to kiss me. 

“Your y/n, my ozzy. Always.” She scrunched her nose as she rubbed it with mine. “And I will totally change into your socks if it makes you feel better.” 

I laughed at her statement. I was being stupid, I was the one that went home with her every night, not Lando, not anyone. 

“Nah it’s fine, you’ve got a big 81 on your back, I think everyone knows who your here for.” And with that, I leave her to get ready for the race. 

P2, P fucking 2. The gap between me and Max was still big but,  managed to defend myself against my own teammate. 

After the podium celebrations and I had packed up my things to leave, I found Y/N consoling Lando, giving him a small sympathy pat. She said her goodbyes and made her way over to me, taking her bag and coat from me. “Everything okay?” I nodded over to Lando. “Yeah he was just giving me more socks, you jealous?” Y/N wiggled her eyebrows and giggled. I laughed along with her, shaking my head, and started to pull her towards the waiting car. “Good because you, get to pull all your clothes off me when we get back.” I whipped my head towards her. She already had a slight flush on her cheeks, rocking on her heels as we stood outside the car. I didn’t even know what to say yet, I just ushered her in the backseat and urged the driver to move as fast as he could. 

I pushed Y/N through the door of our hotel room, locking it and using the DND sign. I was about to wreck her and I did not need anyone knocking in the morning. 

I had her up against the wall, opposite of the bed. Her hands were in my hair, tugging every which way, taking control of the kiss. I let her think that she was in charge for a couple of more kisses before I pushed off the wall and pulled her onto the bed. Y/N squealed as I landed on top of her, my hands went under her shirt, pushing it up her chest and leaving small marks as more skin was exposed. “Baby… need you inside me please.” 

How could I say no? I groaned and got her shoes and pants off, leaving her in my boxers and shirt. “Is it..is it bad that I kinda wanna keep you in this?” I took a step back and looked down at the love of my life. She laughed and wiggled her hips. I watched her hands go under her back, and pulled her bra off her body. 

“How about..I take these off,” Y/N said as she seductively slid my boxers off. “and I’ll keep this on so you can see just who I belong to. Because it’s your number I wear every race.” 

She smiled up at me, that god damn smile. Could make the whole world fall at her feet with that smile, and that sparkle in her eye. And the way she looked naked with nothing but my shirt on. The shirt she wants to wear, just to let everyone know that she’s mine. 

She beckons me over, opening her legs further. I glide my hand down her leg to meet at her sickly sweet opening, dripping just for me. “Do you need me to…or can we skip it tonight?” I asked sheepishly. Not that I wouldn’t love to finger her until her legs went numb, I’m just to worked up for it. 

She laughs at my sudden shy demeanor, I’ve blown her back out many times before and I was never shy asking about prep. “Yeah Osc, I’m good. Have been since you practically were feral at the fact that I wasn’t wearing your socks. Didn’t know you were so possessive.”

I laughed and starting stripping myself of my clothes and grabbing a condom. Wrap it before you tap it kids. 

“Yeah I didn’t either.” I push the condom over my aching member and rub the tip against her clit. Getting back at her for the teasing earlier.  I looked up at her as I paused at her hole, silently asking for permission. She nodded meakly and I slowly pushed in. 

Y/N gasped and held onto my forearms for a moment. “Osc, baby…take the condom off.” 

My eyes widen. “W-what?” Was she insane? Yeah she was actually insane. “Mhm, I’m on birth control, you know this.” I just stared at her. We, in all of our month of dating, have never fucke raw. Hell I’ve never done that, with anyone. “Are you sure? You know the pill isn’t always affective.” Y/N rolled her eyes and pushed on my stomach so I’d fall out of her. She slowly pulled the condom off and stroked my dick a few times. “That’s what the morning after pill is for.” So much for wrap it before you tap it. 

She guided me back to her pussy and just the feeling of her soaking me put me on edge. Without a single warning, I thrust into her. And fuck me was it perfect, she was perfect. We both couldn’t breath for a minute. She had her head push back into the pillows and I grabbed her jaw and forced her to look at me. “Eyes on me sweet girl.” I wish I could take a picture, capture the pensive look on her face. The scrunch of her nose, the way her lips part to say my name. She grabs the hand under her jaw and slides it against her own, intertwining our fingers and laying them against the bed. Ah, now i get it. 

“Oh sweetheart, you need me to hold your hand huh?” I fake pout down at her as I start a slow rhythm. “Shut up, oh fuck Osc.” Her back bows as I lift her legs over my hips, making me hit deeper. 

All that can be heard throughout the room is skin colliding and y/n’s whines of pleasure. Watching her like this, wearing my number, my winning number, fuck me I don’t know what heaven looks or sounds like but it’s this. “Jesus Christ, this was such a b-bad ah! Bad idea, fuck I’m gonna cum to quickly.”  She smiled and brought my hand to her throat, knowing how much the control turned me on. 

“C’mon Ozzy, baby, cum in me. please god want it so bad.” Y/N gasped out as I lightly squeezed her throat. The pace I set was bruising, the thought of getting to cum inside my girl, my Y/N-

With my free hand I reached down to play with her clit, determined to get her to cum before me. She pushed her throat against my hand as she moaned my name and came. I could see the white ring form around the base of my cock, that pushing my to cum in her. 

let’s just say it’s not the last time she’ll be wearing my number.

#formula one #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri x female reader #mclaren #formula one imagine

[espion7971]

IceWing tribe sheet!

icewings actually happen to be my favorite tribe, they're a little messed up but i love them. enjoy my headcanons!

Physical Appearance + Traits:

-IceWings live in the cold and barren arctic north, and have developed very specific adaptations in order to survive. Rather than being warm-blooded and keeping themselves insulated, they kept their reptillian cold blood and slowly adapted to a consistently cold internal body temperature. As a result, they require no warmth at all for their bodies to function; they do not insulate themselves with fur or fat like mammals do.

-Their scales are pale, usually with a bluish tint although other colors are not unheard of. When well taken care of, they gleam and sparkle like ice.

-They are naturally cold to the touch, giving off a chill to anyone close by. In warm environments, especially humid ones, the cold will sometimes cause moisture from the air to condense on their scales, letting drops of water settle on them and drip from them. This, at first glance, can sometimes look like they’re “melting”, and has made some believe that IceWings are literally made from ice, and they can melt in the heat. (This is another headcanon that didn’t originate with me, it comes from @flamebringer0. If you see this, I adore your headcanon, I hope you don’t mind me including it among with mine!)

-Sharp spikes bristle their necks and run along their spines and tails. This can make it difficult for other tribes to gain the upper hand in fights without being wounded by the spines. They can also use their tail as an effective weapon.

-They can summon a storm of tiny shards and crystals from the ice that tends to coat their throat and produce frostbreath, which can quickly deliver frostbite to any dragons who aren’t well adapted to cold.

-Icewing horns are sometimes straight, resembling icicles, sometimes jagged, and sometimes branch off into something more antler-adjacent. They are always sharp, but just slightly more fragile than other horns.

-Some IceWing scales tend to get a bit darker and more silvery as they age, and likewise they tend to hatch with bright, snowy-white coloration. Some will have speckled patterns and general variability between colors across their bodies.

-Their dark eyes help absorb light and allow them to see past the bright glare of sun on ice. 

-Their bodies are long, slender and elegant, especially among royals. Their faces are long and pointed, and they are more agile and maneuverable than most tribes expect. They are generally smaller than SkyWings but taller than MudWings.

-Their serrated claws help grip ice, and make their attacks more punishing. They have a sharp and sturdy point on the end of their snout, which can be used to crack ice without harming them.

-They are not a very physically varied tribe, but the royal and noble IceWings have a look distinct from those on outskirt villages. They often have fewer spines, straighter horns, narrower wings and paler colors, whereas lower-ranking IceWings have more practical antler-like horns, more spines, and a more muscular appearance. (Sketch displaying this below.)

Life Cycle:

-IceWings are hatched in small clutches of one to three. Parents will carve out a nest in the ice, lay the eggs, and then allow them to freeze over again until the dragonets break through the ice. It is believed that the colder the eggs during incubation, the more powerful the dragonets will become. 

-They take around 5 months to develop and are hatched strong enough to free themselves and big enough that most predators aren’t interested in them. They are also hatched with a delicate layer of spines all across their bodies that resemble frost crystals, though these later shed off. Dragonets can also go several days without eating after hatching, which is unusual for dragons. 

-Most parents are available to watch their dragonets, so these abilities simply serve as precautions for the case of missing or neglectful parents. 

-They grow somewhat slowly, reaching maturity a bit later than other tribes.

-IceWings, especially those of high rank, are expected to be strictly monogamous, and their marriages are usually more of a formality than a real union of affection. They aren’t incapable of love, certainly, but marriage is not treated as an act of love among nobles and royalty. Sometimes even lower-status IceWings marry out of societal expectation and not for their own happiness, but things are generally less strict.

Society + Culture:

-IceWing society is strictly ranked by class and birthright. There are seven divisions, referred to as Circles; the Seventh Circle is made up of dragons of low status, living in small villages on the outskirts of the tribe and scorned by those in higher Circles. The First Circle, meanwhile, is almost entirely comprised of royalty and other dragons of high honor and status. In the palace, dragons are expected to greet and interact with others differently depending on their relative ranking. The system is extremely strict and ruthless, and disrespect is one quick way to be lowered down the ladder. During her reign, Queen Snowfall tore down the wall used to keep track of the placement of each dragon, and made great steps toward lessening this aspect of their culture, but it continued to subtly persist long after her death. 

-Lower-circle IceWing society is simple and straightforward. They live in communities quite detached from palace life, hunting for themselves and helping each other raise their dragonets. As all IceWing animus dragons were strategically kept in royalty, most animus gifts did little to improve the lives of those outside the First and Second Circles. The best way for a low-born IceWing to rise in rank would be through military work; otherwise, the groups remain fairly stagnant. Protests and revolts, though, are surprisingly uncommon. Most Sixth and Seventh Circle IceWings are simply too detached from royalty to be concerned with wealth differences, and royals likewise rarely bother to interfere with Sixth and Seventh circle dragons.

-While in the palace, during the worst of the class division, all dragons were commanded to wear necklaces made from a heavy metal that matched their rank. First-Circle necklaces would consist of one ring, Second-Circle necklaces would have two, one inside of the other, and so on. The more circles, the heavier the necklace, and Seventh-Circle dragons, on the rare occasion they visited the palace, would be forced into a constant bow by the weight of the metal.

-IceWings are quite superstitious, not unlike SkyWings. Their beliefs vary by region, but a generally common one is that the deep, impenetrable ice cap they live on harbors some ancient, powerful force, and that if it ever were to break or melt away, that power would be unleashed and cause havoc; they see the ice as a protective field that froze over at the dawn of time, and if it unfroze it would be the end of everything they know.

-IceWings will sometimes wear polar bear fur or the pelts of elk and deer, though not for warmth. Lower-Circle dragons will wear the pelts and sometimes even antlers of their own prey, for bragging rights. Higher-Circle dragons simply wear them as a fashion statement and a show of wealth.

-IceWings are educated much more about their own tribe than others, and generally prefer to stick to their own affairs. They have few exports to trade and little interest in those of others. They are not the most diplomatic tribe.

-After the perceived theft of their last animus, they not only blamed NightWings, but also harbored resentment for every other tribe with animus magic, believing themselves to be the original carrier of the gene and therefore the rightful possessor of it. They are extremely protective of even the least useful of their animus gifts. 

Diet: Carnivorous. IceWings eat arctic mammals like elk and polar bears, and aquatic mammals like seals and even sometimes narwhals and orcas. They also eat fish and, rarely, a few species of birds. They have no way to cook food and no desire to. Other than a few types of berries in the mountains near the SkyWing border, no plants grow in the arctic, and IceWings live on meat alone.

#wings of fire #wof headcanons #icewings #art #my posts

[jokeringcutio]

Abijah Fowler x (f) Assassin Reader Drabble [ Warnings: Smut]

AN: On popular demand, another Abijah Fowler x Reader. You are an assassin set out to kill Fowler. It doesn't go according to plan.

Warnings: Non-con/dub-con content, SMUT (not as detailed as you're used from me, sorry, I'll give the prompt a retry in the future, possibly as a consensual forbidden love fic >D ), Not beta-read. Quick Drabble. ~~ Masterlist - Request Box - Ebooks&Website - Support me on Ko-Fi ~~

You watched him through the slats of the ceiling, your heart a drumbeat in the silence. Abijah Fowler, the man with the soul of a serpent, was seated at the head of a long, dark table. Such an outlandish habit. His fingers, stained with the ink of sin, traced the lines of a map that plots downfall and destruction. The other men, shadows in the dim light, nodded and murmured their assent to his vile plans — willing puppets dancing on his twisted strings.

Corrupted souls, all of them. But they weren’t your concern.

Your grip on the hilt of your dagger tightened. You had memorized the layout of this place, moved through the corridors like a ghost, unseen, unheard. Now you hovered above them, an angel of vengeance poised to strike. Your mission was clear: end Abijah Fowler.

He was explaining something, his voice a gravelly melody that carried tales of violence and power. His strong and broad shoulders moved, dipped backward as if he tried to loosen the muscles in them. His oddly colored hair captured your attention, thinking it had been a color akin to bronze or perhaps even gold once. But streaks of grey made him seem more like the other old men in this country. If it hadn’t been for his distinct facial features, the pale color of his skin, and the large shape of his bright-colored eyes.

An angel of death you saw in him. Anyone else called him a demon.

He regaled them with stories of conquests past, painting pictures with words dipped in blood. They laughed, a chorus of discordant notes, and you felt the bitterness rise in your throat.

"Of course," Fowler's voice sliced through the laughter, "it all depends on eliminating any... unexpected threats." His eyes, predator green, suddenly fixed on you, turned upward to the ceiling and straight at your hidden person. A cold smile curled his lips. "Isn't that right?"

The room fell silent. Every muscle in your body tensed, ready to spring, to fight. But you remained still, barely breathing. There was a chance this was all just a bluff, that he hadn’t seen you. But then you saw his unwavering gaze, saw the unnatural bright green eyes that rested firmly upon you, and you knew that you were exposed, the advantage lost. You cursed inwardly, waiting for his next move, knowing the game had changed.

"Come now, don't be shy," he coaxed, his tone mocking. "Join us."

You dropped down gracefully despite the hammering in your chest. Standing before them, outnumbered but unflinching, you refused to let them show any fear. Stoically, you faced them, thinking of all the lessons and all the training you had. The men stared, their gazes ravenous, but it was Fowler who held your attention. A dangerous dance awaited, everyone could feel it in the air. But you knew his moves, knew how he could react, knew you stood little chance in a hand-on-hand combat.

Especially if he brought his demon guns.

You needed a distraction, something that could increase your chances of survival. Your heart raced, a wild drumbeat in the cavern of your chest. Words, like poisoned arrows, flew from your lips as you stepped closer to Abijah Fowler.

"I've heard tales of your prowess," you murmured, voice a silken thread designed to ensnare. "They say no man can match you in the dark arts of war and pleasure."

Fowler's green eyes glinted, a predator basking in the glow of his prey's admiration. He let out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling through the tension-thick room. "Flattery will get you nowhere, my dear." His words were honey-laced with venom.

One step. Another. Close enough now that you could count the lines etched into his weathered face. You felt the heat emanating from his broad frame. Fowler's hand shot out, swift as a striking snake, clasping your wrist in an iron grip. The trap snapped shut.

"Gotcha," he whispered, a taunt wrapped in a victory.

Instinct took over. Your body remembered its training before your mind caught up. You twisted, a flash of movement, wrenching against his hold. The element of surprise was on your side, for a heartbeat or two.

"Feisty," Fowler observed, almost admiringly.

The dance of death began. A ballet of blows and blocks. You lunged, struck, kicked—each move a desperate plea for freedom. Fowler countered, effortlessly, his strength overwhelming. The other men watched, wolves observing their alpha.

"Should we help?" one ventured, doubt lacing his voice.

“No, he can take her, easily,” another one guffawed.

You hated him for the comment and wanted to punch his face in, but you knew he was right. Fowler was bigger than you, broader, heavier, and more skilled in combat. You were trained to be a silent creeper, someone who brought death without being seen, a shadow of mercy, or an anger of hell.

Another heroic block of his attack, but your underarm was smarting. Pain shot through you, your body feeling sore. When he finally landed a blow that sent you staggering back, you tasted the copper tang of defeat.

"Never send a child to do a killer's job," Fowler sneered, advancing on you, the space between you charged with the promise of pain and something darker still.

Breath short, chest heaving. His presence loomed, an oppressive shadow eclipsing your tumultuous thoughts. Abijah Fowler's green eyes glinted with a predatory gleam, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in a macabre grin that set your nerves on edge.

Was he studying you? The feeling that settled in the pit of your stomach was unsettling. Abijah Fowler was an attractive man, despite all his oddities. And hadn’t his character been so devilish, you might have fallen for his charm. But he was a demon. And in his eyes, you now saw demonic thoughts rise as he studied your features, eyes roaming your skin as if you were unclothed.

You felt the grip of his hands around your wrists, squeezing just a bit tighter. Felt the calloused skin of his thumb as it brushed gently past the mouse of your palm.

"Outside," he commanded, voice low and laden with dark promise. The men hesitated, exchanging leering glances that spoke volumes of their wretched character. "The lass and I need privacy."

"Seems Fowler's got himself a new plaything," one of the men chuckled, coarse laughter bubbling up from the others as they filed out, their intentions thick in the air like a miasma.

Your heart thrummed against your ribs, each beat a silent drum heralding doom. He was close now, too close; the heat from his body mingled with yours. You could kill him—if only you could reach your weapon. But he had smacked it out of your hand with the first blow, it had clunked to the wooden floor aimlessly. You couldn’t even tell where it was from where you stood. Your fingers twitched, betraying the urge.

"I'm not some doll for your amusement," you managed to say, words edged with a defiance you didn't feel.

"Oh, by the time I am done with you, you will wish I’d killed you sooner,” Fowler murmured. You could smell the odd sourness of his breath and wondered what had caused it. His grip on you tightened.

“Who sent you? And why would they send someone so young and unqualified," Fowler murmured, cruel satisfaction seeping through his tone. His breath caressed your ear, sending involuntary shivers down your spine.

The room cleared, the door clicking shut behind the last man. Silence fell heavy, punctuated only by your ragged breaths and the pounding of your pulse. Then, movement. Fowler's hands were upon you, guiding you with unwanted familiarity—a predator toying with its prey.

"Let's see what you've made of," he said, pressing you down forcefully over the table that dominated the center of the room. Your cheek met cold wood, and you flinched as the ink from the maps smeared beneath you, staining your skin with the blueprint of their vile machinations.

"Consider this a different kind of battle," Fowler whispered, his voice a serpent's hiss as he leaned over you, his weight an unspoken threat.

Fowler's hand slithered up your leg, rough fingers catching on the fabric of your clothes. A tug, a deliberate pull, and the material gave way to bare skin, your exposed calf a pale contrast against the darkness of his touch. His breath hitched ever so slightly, a sign of his burgeoning arousal not lost on you.

You struggled on instinct, but stilled when you felt the bulge against your thigh increase. This didn’t actually arouse him, did it?

"Fight me," he growled, a low rumble in his chest as you twisted beneath him, struggling for leverage. "I do love it when you struggle like that."

Your muscles coiled, ready to spring, but he was a slab of stone pinning you down. The heat of his body radiated through the thin barrier of your clothing, igniting a reluctant fire within. You hated how your body betrayed you, responding to his proximity despite the storm of loathing raging in your heart.

His hand wandered with more audacity, venturing into forbidden territory. A gasp tore from your lips, unsanctioned pleasure sparking along your nerves. Fowler chuckled, a sound laced with darkness, as if he relished in pulling these reactions from you.

"Good girl," he purred, his breath hot against your ear. "Let go, just for a moment."

You fought against the tide rising within, but the dam broke under his relentless pursuit, waves of reluctant ecstasy crashing over you. Your climax hit with the ferocity of a tempest, leaving you shuddering and vulnerable in its wake.

He wasted no time, freeing his aching long cock, the size and girth you had never seen before. A gasp tore from your lips as he sheathed himself inside of you, bottoming out with little mercy. He set a grueling pace, showing little care for your pleasure or well-being at this point. But your core was slippery, your walls fluttering around him with passion, and you had to bite your tongue to keep from moaning loudly with each and every deep thrust his foreign body gave you.

Was this how it had been for every lover he had ever taken, forced or otherwise?

A second orgasm wracked through your body. You’d find an excuse for this later on, if you were to survive this ordeal. You would find a way to condone the liquid that dripped from your core and onto the table below, the way the stained ink brushed past your nipples, the way your body pulsed with pleasure after Abijah Fowler found his release.

You felt a hot palm on your naked back, gently caressing the skin there, and heard the low hum that came from his lips. He sounded pensive, as if he were determining your fate. Your thoughts slid back to your weapons and the many ways to get your hands on them, but his body still kept you trapped underneath him.

As you lay there, trembling, Fowler's voice slithered in your ear once more. "There's a task I need done," he murmured, the words vibrating against your skin. "A certain individual who needs to be...taken care of."

His implication was clear, an order veiled as an offer. "Do this for me," he continued, "to my satisfaction, and I shall spare your life."

"My life..." you rasped, your voice laden with the weight of reality. There was no choice, only the illusion of one. You nodded, sealing a devil's pact, while inside, a lethal promise took root. Fowler had ignited a vengeful blaze, and from its ashes, you would rise—his destruction, your sole aim.

This was not the end. It was a twisted beginning, and you swore to yourself, to the silent gods of retribution, that you would have your revenge.

Abijah Fowler would pay.

~ AN: I want to do this character more justice (and the smut). But quite frankly, it is a bloody miracle I have been writing anything at all. Things don't go well health-wise, but we'll know more at the end of this month. I hope to feel good enough soon to write a better drabble for Abijah and Reader.

#abijah fowler #abijah fowler x reader #abijah blue eye samurai #reader insert

[ahollowgrave]

Odette Hollows - Character Associations

EMOTIONS/FEELINGS

Love (first, last, everlasting, lost, returned)

Grief (a cost, an eventual friend)

Giddiness (butterflies in the stomach)

Missing a stair (a sudden fall)

Contentment (warmth and safety)

COLORS

Delicate shades of purple (falling petals, a dawn sky)

Soft blues (a river under ice, the blue of forget-me-nots)

Pearl White (glimmering, shiny, pure)

Lush greens (living things growing, rich fabrics)

A splash of red (for a loyal hound)

SCENTS

Sweet, warm vanilla. (up front, a little overwhelming, a little juvenile.) 

Rich, damp soil. (freshly turned)

Cedar. (freshly hewed)

Sun-ripened peaches. (ripe and sweet, nearly overripe)

Old books with their spines cracked. (asking to be read again, again, again)

OBJECTS

Moonstones of varying sizes, well polished. (to give away, for luck and love and luck in love)

Prayer beads. (worn from use, made by her own hand, wrapped around a wrist)

Love letters with lipstick marks. (‘found’ items, coveted and wished over)

Moon daises. (fresh & dried, hung from hooks in garlands, pressed between the pages of a book)

Clean and dry bones. (friends awaiting a welcoming word)

BODY LANGUAGE

Muffled laughter, hidden smiles. (too loud, too goofy, too much)

Dimpled, crooked grins. (a ray of light piercing clouds)

Hands raised, palms up. (please, please, please, please, please)

Lingering glances. (timid and adoring)

Rocking on her feet, heel to toe. (to some unheard music)

AESTHETICS

Flowers and trinkets left at a grave. (love and loss forever linked)

Moonlight, dripping through canopies. (Her Lady, reaching to caress her)

Snow, gently falling. (a blanket over living things, a muffling of a too-loud world)

Moths in flight, flittering and fluttering. (summoned by Her light)

A garden in controlled chaos. (not overgrown, carefully maintained.)

][ Tagged by: ][ @oneiroy & @mythandral ]Thank you both! ][ Tagging: ][ @gatheredfates @the-sycophant @snakemoltsiren @dragonsongmakhali @dragons-ire @cindernet-explorer and You (: ]

#About #Character Sheet #Odette Hollows #this was so hard??? #but also very very fun #now i get to do it for pru too woof #Pigeon Screens

[starrbright]

Last Degree Of Nature | Nanami K.

Stay longer in me. Take root. Vera Pavlova, A Weight on My Back (tr. Steven Seymour)

January 5, 2024—April 5

Last continuation for Prof. Nanami: X | X | X | X |

3k words. Sickening fluff, honestly. No smut, really sorry for that. 🙇🏽‍♀️🫶🏼🫂

image used: X | a quote i used is from the 2014 film 'about time'

I had a bad case of baby fever after december 14, so......yeah. And I really was going through it and I thought of this.

Still going through it.

A few months has passed. Everything continues to go well with Nanami. Too well. Is it stupid? Honestly, you could swear it is. You sigh under your breath, tutting your head sharply to wipe away the thoughts but it comes back, the voice of your professor speaking up almost unheard, what she discusses just passes by through your ears.

Your fingers gripped around your pen tightly and loose and tighten again and again in the moment of being filled with worrying bits, at least is is for you. It's difficult not to fall on your head on the table and try to bear away what's been stirring you for a bit of awhile now.

How could you even begin to explain what you're going through. Maybe it's normal. Maybe it's too early.

And it is normal. But it is too early.

Yet, God....like again, how could you not be in the state you're in--when the two of you have been nothing but lovesick fools. When he's been someone so, a man you never dared to wish for.

You've lost count how many times you drifted far off from replaying memories in a loop.

The first time you stepped into his home, it was one what would expect for a man like him. A home out of a novel. Grand but mirrored familiarity. You were glad for him to have seem that he knew of the warm little things that makes life big before he met you.

That's what it seemed. If one would only look once and flat, they'll only see how he presents himself; gray. And a big part of him is, his life and what makes him he.

Figurines of what a home is to fill the spaces.

And then along came you to be the muse of his colorful but now he realizes--empty canvases.

There never seemed to be a missing piece even when he seeked out to satisfy his flesh. Even when you arrived in his life only for both of your indulgence. There never was.

Until his heart wanted itself to be given to you. Until he offered and you accepted it. He found there were endless crevices that could be filled more beautifully.

To see you free roaming in his home. To have you in his arms, laying back against his chest as you read a book, with him savoring the rest he can have with you, free from the confines of his work for a while.

The sun beaming through the windows while the wind flows against the curtains. The shine of the sun on your brown skin, the specks of dust he sees from the light, every little marks and dots of hairs on your arm. With him holding you as he beholds all those; he's frozen in time. And what he'd give to capture every moment. To let it flow endlessly.

It doesn't need to be said, it's in all of it already anyways--at least not yet. One would say there's the kind of rush in the beauty of just letting it be.

Though how long? How long until it can be sees as not too early?

How much more walking through it to be enough?

A few times you two have been in the café you're now in to study, to wash yourself away from the distractions. Him, who else.

Though it's been less than ten minutes of being in the place, after being in the queue and now that it was your turn to order. The cashier already familiared of you, has a little smile, almost barely showing but it's a knowing one--and when you felt a presence behind you, she laughs.

Widened eyes as you recognized the scent of a perfume, the way those arms encircled around you, the squeeze of fingers to the side of your stomach. His voice. " Angel. " He greets sweetly with a kiss on your cheek.

You couldn't find your words, too abashed at his sudden presence, let alone in public as you both stand in the line, let alone the fine man holding a boquet in his other hand as he holds his woman. "Let's go." He says before you could even protest, he's already given an ample of money for someone who didn't buy anything, he's already got your things from the table you're supposed to be--he's already had you sitting in his car.

"I'm supposed to be studying." You spoke at last.

"I know." he only chuckles. "But I missed you." He simply adds as he leans close you, a hand delicately firm on your cheek to kiss your lips. The thick presence of his perfume dizzying against the vibrant scent of the flowers--to the way he drowns you with kisses.

How unfair.

And how cliche it is. You hadn't thought Nanami would have ever pulled the kind of act, In the library, among the aisles of bookshelves, you're pinned back against a shelf as he kisses you. But then again he has fucked you more than enough times in the campus.

You couldn't say it wasn't adorable that he asked for this. His office was a building away from where you're both in as he's to lecture in a few minutes and you to attend your own classes, so that is where you ended up; making do in the library for a mere time of kissing.

"This is risky." You uttered in haste the second you both stepped in the quiet facility, to which he only hushed with another one of his, 'I know'

Next thing you know, he's hovering tall in front of you, one of his arm laying against the shelf, the other on the side of your face. "Hi." He breathes. There's no smile on him. How is it possible his eyes says otherwise.

"Hi." Nothing from your voice but just a gentle mouth of the word, a mere smile painting to be wide.

Then it slowly fell as his thumb grazes on your lips. "Let me kiss you." he still utters those kind of words. Never fails to take your breath each time.

Resolve melting away every time.

The last one recently, one which is all too vivid in your head--was the last straw to have enable all the want for more.

It was the morning of Sunday when Nanami called. yourself fresh from breakfast and was just about to wash the dishes. He tells it was Gojo who planted the idea in his mind just last night from their usual night out to drink, and he himself wasn't opposed to said idea--he liked it, really. Despite he wouldn't credit Gojo too much for it, of course. A dinner later in his home, that is. With the two men and their children.

How could you say no?

You were too happy to prepare and cook all those dishes with him in his kitchen before the night arrives. Amidst a few conversation about Gojo and Geto, their children as well, the conversation went to a boy named Yuuji.

The said boy whom Nanami has invited for later. Telling of the little story as you continue all the work in the kitchen,

Evident that the man is very fond of the boy. Spoke of how Yuuji's late grandfather was the owner of the flower shop he sometimes go to before you both happened, the said boy taking over after while still studying along in the same school and class with Megumi. Spoke of how a good kid he is. Spoke of how the boy told him that his grandfather would have liked to meet the woman Nanami has found, the old man would've been over the moon to know the flowers Nanami usually buy for his house now would be for a lover. Spoke of how Yuuji was always thrilled when he walks in the shop, having known it'll be for you. Which all led to him insisting the kid to go for the dinner, telling how he literally brightened up when he heard it.

You couldn't wait for the night to arrive.

But nothing could have prepared you for it.

As some have said, 'no one can prepare you for the love people you love can feel for them.'

All so suddenly your nerves flutter rapidly when footsteps and voices make itself known further. "That would be them." Nanami says with a little laugh following as he wipes his hands with a kitchen towel before heading to them.

Though you only remain standing behind the island, your hands fresh off the powdered sugar from sprinkling them on the now done strawberry cake you made; a dessert for the kids, but of course much more for Nanami and Gojo that your man has told you who has a bigger sweet tooth than anyone else.

Your wandering mind filled with nervousness in those short seconds was abruptly interrupted with adorable loud voices of little girls as they run in the kitchen and around to the dining room. The three professors following after and behind them is who you figured to be Megumi and Yuuji. The pink haired boy must be certainly Yuuji, by his sunshine air and the beautifully arranged flowers he holds, eyes wide with a big smile. Megumi besides him with the jet black hair and cool demeanor he has. The little girls Nanami has told earlier, Nanako and Mimiko who were now running back to the kitchen, towards where you are, little hands reaching up on the edge of the counter and tiptoeing. Loudly delighted with the cake they see.

"They really rubbed off from Satoru." Geto huffs, a mere annoyance in his voice but the fondness in his calm eyes tells so much.

"They're children." Nanami reasons expectedly, the calmest smile on his face, eyes flickering to you. Your heart just keeps on fluttering.

"And I'm your soon to be husband." None other than Gojo speaks as ever proud he is, to which only Geto, Nanami and Megumi rolled their eyes to. You, Yuuji, Nanako and Mimiko however--and despite the little girl's already knows, they have the same look of awe you and Yuuji have. "That's....that's lovely." You speak up softly, wiping your hands clean.

"Congrats." Yuuji barely stopped himself from seemingly shouting.

Then Geto laughs lightly, "Thank you." Walking up to the counter with the bag he holds, delightfully reeking of a savory scent, Gojo as well with two bottles of expensive looking alcohol. "I asked him just last night--" he begins with a wide grin but was cut off by his fiance. "Barely. He was too drunk when he did." Geto scoffs as he takes out a food container from the paper bag. "I had to get hammered, I was too scared!" Gojo protests as he pop opens the one bottle of alcohol and looked for glasses.

"He couldn't have done it normally despite feeling so." Nanami chimes in simply as he starts to set up the dishes on the table, making Gojo just following him across the dining room with the glasses now on his hands, his own already filled as he goes with his mouth.

Leaving you with Geto as the two boys goes there as well, lightly playing along with the little girls as they converse.

"It's nice to see you again." Geto says while now helping you prepare all the little things for dinner to begin and go well. "In this kind of setting, I mean." he adds, a light chuckle he makes. Having seen you a few times in the campus, of course, with Nanami secretely or just around. "And I'm glad, by the way."

You nod, abashment about your relationship with their friend almost not there anymore. "The same to you. And I'm glad as well." Happily, you smile.

At last dinner began. If simply meeting them all has had your heart growing so much, you couldn't be more wrong. You were worriedly too happy to be wrong.

That's where you begin to get.....scared.

And how you now find yourself after days and days of contemplating it--standing in front of the door of Geto's office.

Doubts of confronting it plainly gone, you were just aching to let it all out, but not yet to the man himself, so instead it's Geto. You think it's only fitting for you to go to him.

Sighing almost tiredly, you then knock on the door, when you walk in and he's met by you. He just lightly smiles and nodded for you to go in. You sit on the chair across from him where he's still on his laptop, as your eyes are nowhere on particular, gathering the bare strength to speak it out at last--he just waits for you speak, having already as expectedly guess what the subject will be or rather who about.

You breathe deeply as your head turns away before it goes back to him.

"I think I want to marry Kento."

Geto's focus stops, fingers typing away on a sudden halt, gaze now to you and eyebrows raised, "Ah." His very mere shock fades slowly into a small smile.

"Yeah," you let out barely, lolling your head to the side. Your ears at last hearing those words, it suddenly feels ridiculous. But the arrow has already been shot in you. Too much and maddening it is, still you don't want it to go away.

You find yourself then to be unwavering. The resolve finding its permanent stay.

A shaking breath flows out of your mouth, a trembling hand ghosts on your forehead as you look down. "I want to marry him." Never mind your unsteady voice, you want to say it endlessly.

Nostalgia waves pass by Geto with what reveals. Several months ago, Nanami spoke you're the one. His everything. And there you are now with an admission any longing being would dream to hear for their own. He looks at his engagement ring. A few weeks earlier, his lover was clinging to him as he tear up, drunk, asking to marry him, rambling how he wants eternity with him, promising he'll be the bestest father for their children.

He didn't ever think their lives would be this happy, he only hoped.

Geto is wordless to say the least.

His eyes back on you, it's the mellowest you've ever seen on him, mouth opening slowly, it's what he thinks to say then. "Satoru wouldn't be too happy with a double wedding. You know how extra he is--"

A breathless laugh you make in a light disbelief, "I'm serious." You say in exasperation, tears starting to fill your eyes.

Geto just smiles gently, not saying aything. What more could be said when you're just too happy for a friend, to contentedly know that until an end, they won't be alone.

"What are you waiting for?"

Going on with your day after was still as distracting, it wasn't heavy anymore though. You don't remember when was the last time you were excited to see him again without any hesitations.

When you do at the end of the day, in his house, finding rest in each other's warmth, your heart remains to be thrumming of that same thrilling joy when time has allowed you both to be with each other again, that same rhythm of feeling when you first began to have a crush on him.

And in the quietness, you deem it's time to make it known to him.

As he keeps himself cozy with his face buried on your neck, your soft body laying against his chest and in between his legs--gently, you rose from his hold and awaking him in the process. You sit yourself back on the couch as he looks at you curiously, while ever sweetly gentle, your hands still twined as he makes so. So much for how much more.

After all the time of thinking about it, you didn't see the need nor want to beat around.

" I want to marry you. "

How does one even take that in?

You were sure you've never seen your lover lose the composure on his face like that. It's nothing but pleasant.

"Marry me." The bliss in saying it, truly.

And hearing it from you, seeing your smile you evidently keep from widening, the stars in your eyes. You've taken him from his paradise to a place far greater than he would ever thought of.

You've truly taken him aback this time. He hadn't seen you were visioning the same piece as him. It seemed both of you were going through the same dilemma after all. Drowned too deep to have seen it.

You hadn't seen his eyes looking at your ring finger when his hand is entangled to yours, thikning of all the kinds of rings you'd love. How could you have possibly know he's been wishing for you to never leave his house when the night falls, for him to wake each morning with you in his arms, to get up earlier than you and make you breakfast, have and enjoy meals together without looking at the time.

You didn't see what he was painting with his eyes upon dinner that one night. How you light yourself a flame and the kids a magnet to you.

Suddenly when he holds you from behind, his hand yearned to feel a life within you. Voices of little ones echoing pleasantly in his mind. Angels running around his home.

Despite unspoken, unknown; you've been meeting halfway.

Nanami let his lips break into an opened smile, a little laugh breathing out as he tightens his twined hand on yours. "You read my mind."

Your cheeks could already hurt from smiling so much, but couldn't find any words after, you only laid your hand on both of yours, pressing your lips on his knuckles and feel your eyes ache from the tears collecting. Your lover's smile turned gentle as he sees you. " Marry me. " He murmurs. Simply indulging himself in saying it. "I'll marry you. And you of me." He says, returning your kisses on both of your hands.

You feel what he feels when he said them, and he feels what you felt when you answered yes.

Laughter flows in the halls of his home when he takes you in his whole hold once again.

"Satoru wouldn't want a double wedding--"

"I would not dream  of being in the same altar at the same time with that man."

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 Finally done with this 😭😭😭🗣️🙏🏽 i am so tired. just went to our dance practice for a subject and finished this after and still have to type it all after just writing it on paper as usual😀🫠 but here we are, and back home and still am miserable, ive been so busy with college, and it's midnight here, i have a group reporting tomorrow and i barely studied about it🫶🏼🫂 anyways, i thought of writing my little thoughts about this story, im sorry if it's silly or shit😭

i had nanami in his thirties, while our reader is twenty-five. i hadn't thought of what she's taking, really. i honestly forgot what nanami's expertise is 🤸🏾‍♀️ geto teaches art and field study 1, while gojo is in physics and physical education. they had nanako and mimiko just after they were born, heard from someone they know that the little girls' mother couldn't raise them, so they referred themselves willingly. megumi in an orphanage after the girls have grown. i really wish i involved shoko and haibara😔😔😔😔💔😔💔😔💔😔💔😔 let's just think of them being there. especially in their weddings😁 also while at campus earlier, i randomly chose songs in my playlists to queue and one of them is 'that part' by lauren spencer smith and i realized how this work is fitting for that song 😭💔😭😭😭💔😔😭💔

#starr's creations 🌟🍭 #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #nanami kento #nanami kento smut #nanami kento fluff #nanami x reader #jjk smut #jjk fluff #jjk anime #jjk manga #chubby!reader #anime x chubby reader #jujutsu kaisen x plus size reader #x chubby reader #jjk nanami kento

[daemonicdorset]

Matrimony・✦ drabble

noun - the state of being married; the rite, ceremony, or sacrament of marriage.・✦

@palmastrings made a post about polyamorous!MC and what a wedding might look like, and it gave me some ideas about a ceremony with the House of Lamentation.

There's something here about biblically accurate throne angels and how they're bands of unknowable light and eyes vs. MC in rings of silver, gold, platinum, adorned in gems that match their lovers' eye colors.

Something about the demon brothers and the fear of being known for what they were, what they are, and yet this stubbornly kind creature who loves them wants their hands shining like the Sins used to.

Something about the sight of their human in wedding attire- about the anathema of a human with demons- about the whispers of unheard of and unnatural from those in passing who haven't seen the way their human looks at them.

In white, maybe- purity, that which they'd long since abandoned before their human entered their lives. Innocence, cleanliness, an idea that sometimes the brothers can only ever associate with you.

In black, perhaps- power, that which they'd shared with their human in a way they'd never have dreamt of doing. Mystery, elegance, things some of them might have hoped to present before they met you.

Flowers surround you, painting you in color and life, oh they swear you have more beauty with every passing moment.

Cool metal against your skin like the touch of a kiss to the hand, vivid stones like the flash of a glance.

You might as well be an angel, they wouldn't know the difference, but regardless of anything you're theirs.

The fact is quiet but known, that they'd denounce heaven a second time for you.

#obey me #obey me! #obey me game #obey me! game #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date? #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me mammon #obey me mammon x reader #obey me leviathan #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me satan #obey me satan x reader #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmodeus x reader #obey me beelzebub #obey me beelzebub x reader #obey me belphegor #obey me belphegor x reader #plural・✦ #daedor prattle #daedor prose

[tintinwrites]

almost in your arms | Din Djarin x Reader

A/N: I’ve been in such a Din mood!!

Rating: T, it only gets implied spicy

Warning: Reader is gender neutral, no pronouns or specific body parts mentioned! Canon-typical action. Suggestive material. Helmetless!Mando. A bit of angst ok

Word Count: 1,599, apparently!!

Summary: Din enjoys a summer day with you.

GIF Credit: ^^^^

The grass was yellow from its time in the glaring sun with a lack of water, but it was still soft and pliable enough that the light breeze that ran across it could easily bend it out of its way. Trees dotted around the wide, open field were a stark green in contrast, but they, too, had to oblige and let the wind rustle their leaves.

A tiny chorus of birds chirped from a branch nearby, met by a louder, more songlike chirp; a mother, quieting her inexperienced young with mouthfuls of food. Aside from birdsong and rustled plantlife, there wasn’t a sound to be heard.

Din had no reason to be alert, but he was. The nearly wheat like-grass — its resemblance in color and seed could not forgive its, at best, ankle height — was all that could be pictured as far as the eye could see, with a tree here or a resilient smattering of wildflowers there. No one could possibly sneak up on him here. No creature could hide, nor could a human step lightly enough to go unheard.

Yet still, he listened closely and let his gaze roam every inch of the expansive field.

Suddenly he heard the sound of grass being crunched beneath someone’s boot, but he couldn’t fully turn around before there was a grip around his neck and a weight slamming against his back that had him falling forward.

He grunted as he hit the ground, but he was quick enough to fling off his assailant before they could pin him fully, turning onto his back. He grabbed onto an ankle and started to drag the body towards him, but the other foot came to kick him in the crook of his arm and his reflexes demanded that his fingers release their grip.

He made another swipe, but strong legs wrapped around his upper arm and yanked, sending him face first into grass and dirt again. He felt weight crawling over his shoulders and onto his back, hands under his ribs trying to flip him over. He struggled a bit onto his hands and knees and heard a yelp as the weight went tumbling off him.

This time, despite finding himself a bit worn out, he pinned a wrist to the ground to keep his attacker from gathering their bearings and getting up. He used said wrist to flip the person onto their front, twisting an arm behind a back and straddling their hips.

The wriggling in an attempt at freedom nearly made him laugh, but he pressed his lips tightly together.

After a moment the body under him went still and he heard panting of exhaustion.

“You give up?”

No response, too prideful and dignified, but the free hand came up to blindly pat the side of his thigh.

He grinned to himself and released your arm, swinging his leg up to move off of you. He just sat in the grass, supported by his hands behind him, watching as you sat up with a pout and rubbed your arm.

“It’s definitely broken.” You stretched it out and winced.

“It’s just stiff, I barely bent it.” He would never twist your arm far enough to injure you; he’d stop before he even felt any resistance, not wanting to push its mobility. “I go easy on you. A real attacker wouldn’t care if they broke your arm.”

“I’m starting to think you don’t care either.” You didn’t mean it, he knew you were just sad that you still couldn’t best him. He’d been training you here and there for a while and you were obviously a skilled fighter, but he had years of experience.

He relented with a sigh. “Would it help if I told you that you nearly got me a couple times?”

“Yes!” You immediately smiled at him, then your face softened and you moved closer to him, brushing some dirt off his nose.

He leaned into your touch like he always did, like it was the first time he’d felt it as if he hadn’t married you all those months ago where he first felt the gentleness of your fingertips. He couldn’t help it; being touched could never get old when one lived without it for as long as he did.

But you touched him every day because you loved it too. With you, he was safe. He could feel hands on his skin, the sun warming his cheeks, the breeze messing with his hair.

And lips, there on his temple, soft and loving, with your voice murmuring against it teasingly, “I was too rough with you, old man.”

“Only because I let you,” he teased back in that nearly serious tone he’d long perfected.

You sighed dramatically and started to pull away with a fake pout, but he quickly grabbed you back and kissed you fully on the lips. It didn’t take long for you to melt into his chest, it never did.

You shared a few kisses there with nothing between you but clothes. No helmet, no armor, just scraps of cloth because it was just the two of you and no one would come to bother you.

Each kiss became gentler than the last until you both needed to really breathe, and you just sat there halfway in his lap with your arms around his neck, smiling at each other.

“You look cute after I fight you.” A blush would still spread across his cheeks when you complimented his appearance, he was so unused to it.

“I never look cute.” He scowled to save face like you didn’t know him so well now.

“No, really! When you’re all sweaty and your hair’s a mess and you remind me how big and strong you are…” Your gaze had a darkness to it that he’d become familiar with. “It really gets me going.”

“Here?” That blush could be seen from his neck to his ears, and probably lower beneath his clothes.

You shrugged, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “We could go back to the house, but doesn’t it seem so far away?”

He was on you in an instant, pinning you beneath a tree, and he delighted in the laugh that escaped you as you hit the ground. He matched your grin with his own before he met your eyes, slowly leaning in for a kiss.

But something green distracted him and he looked up to see Grogu peeking from behind the tree, letting out a happy coo when he saw his father. “Come on, kid…”

You furrowed your brow before craning your neck to see the little guy and you laughed, sitting up as Din begrudgingly slid off you. “Oh, you little devil! You were napping!” You moved onto your knees and pulled the baby into your lap once he toddled over to you.

The house was hidden perfectly behind one of the trees, so you weren’t too far should he have needed you.

He was too curious about what the two of you were doing to stay put when he woke up from his nap, evidently.

While Din was a little disappointed that you were interrupted, he watched fondly as the little guy that became his son cooed at you, trying to hold a conversation with his unintelligible babbles while you listened intently as if you understood every word.

“Mando?” He lifted his gaze to find you were now staring at him.

“You know you can call me Din now.” He smiled a bit at your strangeness, but it faltered when you just kept staring.

“Mando, wake up.” Your voice sounded close, like you were speaking into his ear. But you were still sitting across from him.

“What?” The hairs on his arms and the back of his neck prickled as everything started to blur around the edges, turning black. He called your name, scrambling to his feet, trying to grab onto you and Grogu as you faded. “Wait!”

“Mando!”

He woke up with a start and found you stumbling with a gasp into the control panel of the ship, staring at him with wide eyes. You were muted through the visor of his helmet, there was no sun or hands on his face…just the pressure of his helmet.

No birds. Just the hum of the ship, where he’d fallen asleep in the cockpit like usual.

“That must have been some nightmare…you almost took me out with your helmet.” You moved back to him now that you weren’t in danger of a concussion, smiling.

“Yeah…nightmare…” he said distantly, realizing that he’d been dreaming and he was still in all his armor and you were just his companion.

“I was just coming to ask how long it’ll be until we get there.”

It took him a moment to fully come back to himself. “Where?”

“To get the quarry…?”

“...right.” He leaned forward to look at the coordinates for a moment. “We’re less than an hour out. We’ll…we’ll find something to eat too.”

“Oh, good. You know, Grogu found some bolt that fell off something and tried to eat it? Part of me thinks he took it off something himself.” You were leaving the cockpit as you told him this with amusement, and he turned to just watch as you disappeared.

The dream felt so real, like he really did allow himself to get closer to you, to let his feelings grow, to marry someone like you, to settle down somewhere quiet and peaceful…but he knew the truth. He knew his fate.

A life like that would only ever be a dream for him.

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mando x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin/reader #din djarin/you #the mandalorian fic #din djarin fic

[rollinouttahere-writes]

One Piece Space AU

In this AU, the Grand Line is now the Grand Line Galaxy. A particularly diverse and dangerous galaxy that draws in all kinds of adventurers. There are also tons of valuable resources here that catch the attention of the Enforcers. Enforcers are this AU’s version of marines. They claim to exist to maintain peace and order.

The Grand Line Galaxy is known for having streams flowing through it that can be used for traveling. These streams are made up of a clear liquid that resembles water but has a far lower freezing temperature and is also extremely toxic to anything that didn’t evolve to inhabit it.

There are two types of spaceships here. One is the more typical version that we see in sci-fi movies, the other is the kind of boat inspired spaceships like in the Treasure Planet movie.

The boat spaceships are considered ideal in the Grand Line because they can be used to sail on the stream, thus only needing fuel when they leave the stream to dock at a station or planet. This is not only much faster than the average spaceship, but is much more fuel efficient since it can just ride the current. The current is extremely fast, you do not want to fall off.

There are no devil fruits in this AU, just weird alien powers.

Fishman are pretty similar to how they usually are in this AU. They evolved in the Grand Line Stream so they can enter it freely. Biggest differences are that they’re larger and have more alien features.

Humans do exist in the space AU, but aren’t very common to see. Aliens have been snatching up humans for experiments/labor/pleasure for a long time, so it’s not unheard of to see them about. Some humans have been able to escape what they were sold into and have established human colonies.

The calm belt is made up of vapor from the streams and consists of dense storm-like clouds that cover the entire galaxy. Absolutely no technology functions while in the calm belt, only entirely hand operated mechanisms will be able to work. There are many large deep space creatures occupying the calm belt that will rip apart anything/anyone that is unfortunate enough to drift into it. The only “safe” entrance to the Grand Line Galaxy is where the streams first begin. If you’re in a regular spaceship, it’s pretty easy to slip in through the opening. If you’re in the boat spaceship and have to enter the stream, it’s much more tedious. Due to how fast the current is, one wrong move while entering it can easily slip over the ship and tear it to shreds.

The Straw Hats

Unfortunately as a writer, I cannot name things for the life of me. None of the alien species here are going to be named, but feel free to assign names to them if you feel like it. I am also going to be including Brook and Jinbei here even though I haven’t gotten to them yet. My interpretation are based entirely off spoilers I’ve seen and cold reading, I will probably come back later to tweak these after I get to them.

EDIT: Big thank you to @emtynessinmyworld for coming up with all the names for the alien species!

Both the Going Merry and the Thousand Sunny are the Treasure Planet style ships.

Luffy - Anaxdunamis

His species is known for its above average durability and strength. They can shrug off devastating blows like it's nothing and bounce back from it due their bodies being somewhat stretchy. If you pressed down on their skin, it would be tough, but have a little bit of give to it (like squeezing an eraser). Skin colors vary from orange, to pink, to red depending on the individual. Hair is very coarse and dark, it feels like a scrub brush. Their eyes are very dark, the pupils and irises are both pitch black and indistinguishable from each other (eyes do have whites). Carnivorous and have sharp teeth. Has four fingers on each hand. Relatively similar to humans in appearance in terms of anatomy. This species is considered ideal for being an Enforcer. 

Luffy himself has a light pink skin color (looks like a bad sunburn). Despite being carnivorous, he eats all kinds of food regardless. Luffy’s abilities far surpass the average member of his species. His body has more give and can stretch far beyond what it should be able to do. Possible hybrid but no one has been able to confirm it or come up with what the other species would be.

Zoro - Dynamikopis

A very bulky bipedal mammalian species with quills all over their bodies and slight snouts. Densest on the back, but are present along the arms too. No hair, just quills pointed back on head. Skin is tan (like pre time skip Zoro). Omnivorous, mostly eats meat but can also eat other things. His species hibernates for a few months out of the year due to their home planet having extremely harsh winters. Has three fingers on each hand with claws. Eyes have vertical pupils and are various shades of green or brown (like alligator eyes).

Zoro’s quills are a deep forest green color, and his eyes are a light brown. While Zoro doesn’t do the whole hibernation thing done on his home planet, he naps a lot to make up for it. His body is designed to store fat so he’s prone to having a bit of a dad bod. 

Nami

Human. 

Nami was abducted along with many other humans as an infant. The ship she was on was intercepted by pirates. The battle was brutal and ended with both ships being destroyed. A passing Enforcer ship came by, and when Bellemere (also human) found only two intact stasis pods left with Nami and Nojiko in them, she took off with them back to her home colony because she knew other Enforcers might try and sell them off.

Usopp - Savrasynkalypsis

Reptilian based species. Have a horn right above the nose, males typically have longer horns for display purposes. No hair, just some crests that point downwards around the head. Experts in camouflage, skin can change color to blend in with anything. The base skin color varies a lot depending on the environment the individual grew up in. Like most lizards, they have tails that can be dropped, but they do grow back. Primarily insectivores but occasionally eat plant based foods. Eyes are like that of a gecko including not having eyelids. Hands and feet have five digits on each and resemble chameleon feet.

Usopp’s horn is considered excessively long even by his species’ standards. Always wears a rag on his head and goggles to help protect his eyes. Despite his species not having finger pads to help climb smooth surfaces, he could climb a greased pole if he was scared enough. Drops his tail a lot, it’s usually a nub.

Sanji - Taornis

An avian inspired species. Not completely covered in feathers, flesh is exposed on the hands and feet. There are display feathers at the base of the neck that flare up for mating purposes (like peacocks). Tons of variety in colors for each individual, no two look identical to each other. They can fly but only for short distances. No hair, but there are longer feathers on their head that resemble hair. Feet are flat, not like birds of prey or anything. Omnivores, are capable of eating all types of food. They eat food raw. Have beaks. 

Sanji’s feathers are primarily blue with yellow and black highlights, beak is black. The display feathers on his neck have pink heart shapes on them. They flare up a lot. The longer feathers on his head are yellow and go down to his chin. These feathers typically stick up so this looks strange to others. Preens a lot, both with himself and any woman that will let him. His love for cooking is considered extremely odd by the rest of his species since they only eat raw food.

Chopper - Proteustarando

His species is known for consisting of the best shapeshifters in the universe. Their base forms resemble species of the cervidae family. The planet they’re from is bitterly cold, so they have thick, shaggy fur. Fur can be white, cream, light brown, or dark brown. All members have antlers regardless of gender. The antlers are very ornate and curly. Herbivores, but can eat other foods when they’re shapeshifting. 

Chopper is an outcast because while he can shapeshift to an extent, the transformations all still strongly resemble his base form. Fur is light brown with a cream colored tuft around his throat. The antlers are still pretty short due to how young he is.

Robin - Makrovotiarachne

A species once known for their immaculate record keeping that is extremely long lived. Members of this species have six arms and four eyes. The eyes are on the face where you would expect them to be, with one pair directly under the other. Their “hair” consists of very fine tendrils that resemble jellyfish tentacles. They assist with storing memory and controlling their multitude of limbs. If you were to run your hand through the “hair” it would feel like running your hand over a TV that was just turned off. Skin is various shades of blue and purple. Five fingers on each hand. The species is officially labeled as extinct after Enforcers annihilated them hundreds of years ago.

Robin is the last of her kind. There was a small colony hiding on an inhospitable planet, but after Enforcers caught wind of them being there, they were all killed with the exception of Robin who managed to slip away via evacuation pod as a child. All she wants is to find the old records and spread their knowledge to out whatever it is that the Enforcers wanted to hide. Her skin is a light purple (lilac) and has blue eyes. Her tendrils are a dark midnight blue.

Franky

A cyborg, originally human.

He remembers very little about Earth due to being abducted at a young age (5), but does have some memories of it. Definitely romanticizes it a little. His stasis pod was dropped accidentally and eventually drifted and crashed on Water 7. After the train incident, his body needed to be entirely replaced with robotic parts, nothing but his brain still remains from the original body. His appearance is much more visibly robotic compared to his One Piece design, but is still very similar in terms of anatomy.

Brook

Human infected with a parasite.

Brook was a member of a fairly well established human colony made up of people who were able to escape whatever they escaped from. He was already an adult when he was abducted and worked as a music teacher. Before he could be sold off, a group of human vigilantes took over the ship and freed everyone on board. Brook would ultimately go on to join this crew of vigilantes. During a patrol, they were sucked into a black hole and left in a destitute corner of the Grand Line Galaxy. The ship was unable to work after the black hole encounter, so all the members began dying off as resources got lower. Brook happened to be the last one still alive when a parasite slipped on board and found him. The parasite infects its host by latching onto the soul and feeding off it. It won’t affect your behavior or memories, only forces you to stay alive. Once you’re infected, you become virtually immortal. Brook wanted to join his crewmates, so he tried to starve it out, not knowing that it fed off his soul and not his body. Since the parasite only needs the soul to thrive, it is willing to let the body rot away if the host doesn’t maintain it. Over time, Brook became nothing but bones, but there are some dark tendrils from the parasite visible along his body. Still has his hair somehow.

Jinbei

Still a fishman, not much really changed. He’s a bit bigger and has eight eyes instead of two.

This AU is going to be a lengthy multichapter series because I’ve put too much thought into this for it to only be a oneshot.

#one piece #monkey d luffy #zoro roronoa #luffy #one piece nami #nami #cat burglar nami #usopp #black leg sanji #sanji #tony tony chopper #nico robin #franky the cyborg #cyborg franky #brook #soul king brook #jinbei #space au

[justpostsyeet]

Mîr Vin Universe : Origins

Ch 2.5 : Mysterious Artifacts

A/N : All those who'll guess the correct objects will be send a warm bowl of soup*telepathically*

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As the elves delved into the mysterious woman’s belongings, their initial intent to find potential harm transformed into an intriguing exploration of unfamiliar artifacts. Among the items, they discovered clothing of a similar fashion to what she wore, confirming the uniqueness of her attire. Strips of expensive fabric hinted at a meticulous attention to detail in her possessions. The food items, unlike anything seen in Elven or Middle-earth cultures, sparked curiosity. Exotic aromas wafted from packages that bore no resemblance to the lembas or other fare known to the elves. Moreover, the elves encountered objects previously unseen in Middle-earth. Mysterious in both form and material, these items were beyond their realm of knowledge. They exchanged glances, realizing that the answers to the woman’s origins might be hidden within these enigmatic possessions.

While the mysterious creature laid in a guest chamber, the elves observed her belongings. Her opulent garments and jewelry displayed on a nearby table. Círdan, with his ancient wisdom, led the discussion, stroking his beard, saiid, “This woman is unlike any we’ve encountered, her garments and adornments speak of a culture beyond our knowledge. Let us unravel the mysteries they hold.”

Glorfindel agreed, “Indeed. These garments, painted with expensive dyes, are a marvel. And the elasticity in the waistband, unheard of in our craftsmanship.”

Gildor picked up a small piece of clothing and examined it, “Look at these garments, the cups and elastic strings.”

Fearon quiped in quickly, “These were the last pieces of clothings she was wearing so, perhaps it’s her...undergarments.”

A blush crept up Gildor’s face, but he continued, “ Well, now that’s what you call a small clothes. They seem designed not just for practicality but for enhancement. Quite intricate.”

Círdan snorted at Gildor while Glorfindel just raised his eyebrows as Gildor quietly put the undergarment down.

Fearon was examining the metallic strips from her hair, she was intrigued by the metal and their odd shape . She said, “These thin metallic strips, I’ve never seen the like. They match those on her undergarments and pants. What purpose could they serve?”

Nestor, ignoring Fearon’s question spoke, “The rings on her ears, made of metals unfamiliar to us. And this round gold object on her nose, a curious ornament indeed.”

Círdan agreed with both of them, “The richness of her accessories extends to her fingers and ankles. Rings of gold and unknown metals, a silver band with small gems. It’s as if she carries a piece of a distant realm with her. Her clothings are very unfamiliar to me. Maybe she has come from a distance land.”

Glorfindel said quitely, “Her nail painting caught my attention. At first, I thought them naturally dark, but Fearon told me that they were meticulously painted. A cultural practice, perhaps?”

He paused and spoke again, “And the makeup on her face, a touch of artistry. She clearly belongs to a class of sophistication and royalty we’ve not encountered.”

Círdan announced, “We must look at her belongings in the mysterious bag, but we must approach this with caution. These artifacts may hold clues about her origin, and understanding them could shed light on why she’s here.”

The elves exchanged thoughtful glances as Fearon opened the teeth-like closure. As the elves delved into the mysterious woman’s belongings, their initial intent to find potential harm transformed into an intriguing exploration of unfamiliar artifacts. Among the items, they discovered clothing of a similar fashion to what she wore, confirming the uniqueness of her attire. Strips of expensive fabric hinted at a meticulous attention to detail in her possessions.

Gildor picked up clothes that had different color and designs, but structurally, they were similar to the clothes their mysterious guest was wearing. He also noticed a strange but plesant scent coming from each of her clothings.“This clothing, similar to hers, suggests a consistency in her style. A cultural signature, perhaps? And her unworn clothes have been perfumed too. It all speaks richness to me, but then I wonder why she’s suddenly here without anyone.”

Fearon agreed to gildor, “Indeed My Lord, it’s intriguing and this fabric, intricately woven. Such craftsmanship of such small stiches takes a lot of time . Someone needs to be paid a lot for such fine stitching. She might have an extremely good tailor with her. But it can also be that her people are just good at it.”

They looked at the round object with leather straps around both sides.

Fearon exicted, explained “She was wearing it on her wrist. It’s straps served the purpose of holding the metal and glass cylinder on her wirsts. Look at the cylinder. It has three needles inside. One is circling the cylinder with its one end on the centre axis. The other one is doing it too, but it seems that it is much slower than the longest one, and the smallest one doesn’t seem too much. It’s so interesting. Why would someone put a cylinder with moving needles on their wrists? I don’t think it’s a jewel.”

Lumion spoke quickly, “Perhaps it’s a witchcraft. Her bag too seems like a sentinel being with teeth. Maybe she’s-“

Gildor quickly cut him, “Maybe she’s a rich person with artefacts unknown to us. We can only speculate, but unless she answers us, we’ll never know the truth.”

Gildor could see Lumion face turn sour, but he too interested in this mysterious woman belongings to actually acknowledge his sour face.

Círdan, mused , “These objects, though unfamiliar, may hold the key to understanding her purpose here. We must tread carefully in our examination.”

Glorfindel opened a leather pouch with the same teeth-like closure. He picked up small container and brushes from it. He said, “What are these small pots? They seem to contain substances but mostly red, browns and pinks. There is a small container that has a paste similar to her skin colour.I have never seen such pastes and powders . ”

Gildor added on, “And look at these strange tools. A brush? For what purpose? This small wand, it resembles paintbrushes.”

Fearon said quitely,“Perhaps it’s some form of artistry, but don’t you think it’s very similar makeup tints. Yet there are so many . Many whose purpose i don't understand... what are their uses?”

Nestor was more intrigued by the pots. He excitely said, “And these containers, they’re not metal. Some peculiar substance, almost like a hardened liquid. Unseen craftsmanship! Imagine storing herbs in these. It will be so easy to carry and store.”

Círdan looked at tbe pots and said with a perplexed tone, “Curious. And what is written on these small pots? I cannot decipher this language; it’s unlike any we’ve encountered in Middle-earth.”

Lumion who had been silent for a while quiped in to look at it. He looked at the pots, examining the language, shook his head, and said ,” I couldn’t understand these words. They are very similar to Quenya, straight symmetrical letters. They are not rubbish. They have a set pattern like proper language. Could these be symbols of power or some form of enchantment? They wield a certain allure, though.”

Círdan shaked his head. He agreed with Lumion, but his fascination of everything being an enchantment was a little annoying. Gildor knew Lumion’s suspicious nature. He ignored him and continued to examine the pots . He was like Nestor, more interested in the structure of the pot. He said calmly, “The substance feels unlike anything natural.It’s as if it traps the colours within. Maybe it's a kind of metal found where she lives. ”

Glorfindel fished out an otherworldly artifact—a device of glass and metal, its surface adorned with a peculiar rubbery material. This strange object bore no resemblance to the elegant craftsmanship of Elven artifacts. Its surface, cool to the touch, emitted an ethereal glow when caressed. Gazing upon it, the Elves, beings attuned to the natural world, found themselves in awe of the mysterious luminescence. The glass and metal combination, so unlike the materials of Middle-earth, hinted at craftsmanship from a distant and unfamiliar realm. They all were awestruck. It shines so beautifully and when it glowed the glass side showed a portrait of a flower that seemed to be trapped within it. The rubbery substance, with its unique texture, served as a covering for the device. He room was silent as the soft glow illuminated the Elves’ faces with a sense of wonder, akin to witnessing a starlight phenomenon in the deep of night.

It was Círdan who broke the silence, “What enchantment is this? A glass and metal creation, covered in a rubbery substance that lights up upon touch. I have not seen its like in all my years.”

Glorfindel quickly responded “It’s beyond our comprehension. What could this artifact be? A source of light or a tool of some sort? The rubbery covering adds to the mystery.”

Gildor, equally curious, said, “Perhaps it’s a token of power or an ancient artefact from a distant land. The glow suggests magic, but it’s a magic unfamiliar to us. I’ve never encountered such craftsmanship. The glass and metal seem alien, and this rubbery material... Could it be a ward against some unseen force?”

Círdan knew he couldn’t let them delve in such thought or else they’ll grow suspicious. He wanted to know more about this mysterious creature who suddenly appeared into his land and not just threw her into prison because the others took her as a threat. He spoke with an authoritative voice, “We are left to speculate. A device from a realm we can not fathom. Its purpose eludes us, and the symbols etched upon it are a language unknown. Let us handle it with care. Its glow is enchanting, but we must remain vigilant. This object, whatever it may be, is not of Middle-earth.”

Gildor who was still caressing the glass side of the object and looking at the flower portrait that appeared said without looking away, “Should we attempt to unlock its secrets, or would meddling with it bring forth consequences beyond our understanding?”

Fearon said, “We are in uncharted territory. This device challenges our perception of the world. What powers lie within it, we cannot discern. Prehaps we should leave it our little guest.”

Círdan smiled at “our little guest” . He thought to himself at least someone too is interested in this mysterious being. They were about to search for more things, but the maid servant came back to announce that his little guest had woken up and is in distress.

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Taglist : @elvyshiarieko @bobitoo08 @asianbutnotjapanese

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Constructive criticism is a must or my goldfish brain 🧠 will perish.

#mîr vin universe #Glorfindel x lindir x mîr #the hobbit #the lord of the rings #lotr #hobbit #silmarillion #glorfindel x mîr x lindir #lindir #glorfindel #mîr #the rings of power #Glorfindel x reader #Glorfindel x oc #lindir x reader #lindir x oc #Glorfindel x lindir

[violet-shadows]

Missing Piece (Part Two)

Series Index | Masterlist

Summary: Cassian and Nesta are happily mated and in love, so why do they feel like something is missing? When a newcomer arrives in the City of Starlight, they learn that their bond is not yet complete. 

Pairing: Cassian x Nesta x Reader (She/Her) (Poly Relationship)

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: n/a

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Our party arrived in Velaris just before dusk, crossing through the wards as the last rays of sunlight peaked over the horizon. I had been told that the City of Starlight was nearly unmatched in its beauty, but to see it in person was uniquely breathtaking. We crossed over a massive river, its shore dotted with skiffs of varying sizes, and made our way towards the city center, passing colorful and ornate facades of countless shops and townhomes. The streets were bustling with Fae of all origins, and although I had been to cities throughout the Winter Court, none had ever been as lively as Velaris. 

The Inn where the other new healers and I would stay was just a few blocks from the Healing Halls, and we retired there after a brief introduction to Madja, the chief healer under whom we would be studying. Dinner was brought to us by the innkeeper, and I was thrilled to find that not only had I been afforded a private room, but it was also outfitted with a bathtub. After the long journey north, I jumped at the opportunity to scrub away grime and soak my sore muscles, remaining in the tub until the water had long since cooled. By the time I was done, night had fallen and I stepped onto the small balcony outside of my room to take in my new home.

Although it was still early spring, the breeze was warm on my face, a welcome change from the Winter Court’s frigid climate. Below me, the streets had cleared somewhat, though many residents still bustled about. When I looked heavenward, I audibly gasped at the sight. The night sky was painted with streaks of violet and deep indigo, contrasting against the brightest stars I had ever seen. The twinkling lights seemed to hang low over the city, giving the illusion that, if one just reached high enough, they might be able to touch their cool light. While I expected a nice view, the Night Court sky was nothing short of magical. I sat on the balcony for quite some time, watching the stars and listening to the soft hum of the city around me. When my eyelids finally grew heavy, I took one last look at the glittering sky and felt something like hope begin to bloom in my chest.

I fell asleep soon after my head hit the pillow, the excitement of the day finally catching up to me. As I slept, I was greeted by a familiar dream, the same one that had visited me for months now. The images were fleeting, just blurred snippets of a male and female that filled me with a peculiar warmth. Sometimes, I lay in a warm bed between them, my limbs tangled with theirs as I reveled in the sense of safety their presence provided. Other times, I walked with them through city streets, laughing at some unheard joke. Occasionally, I found myself sandwiched between them, lost in unimaginable pleasure that had me jolting awake, panting and slick between my thighs, yearning for the touch of these familiar strangers’ hands. Although I couldn’t see their faces, I knew it was the same pair each time, a strange connection tying me to them. 

At first, I welcomed the dreams, especially after hard days in the healing halls, when magic and skill could not overcome suffering. The dreams brought me a unique sense of comfort that I quickly began to crave, soothing the aches in my body and soul alike. After a while, though, a sense of longing set in, and with it, creeping loneliness each time I woke to an empty bed. I told no one of my dreams, embarrassed by my fixation on the fairytale couple my mind had conjured. Still, thoughts of the dream couple invaded my waking hours, filling me with a deep yearning, and I began to resist thinking of them for my own sanity’s sake. My efforts were somewhat successful, and in the months preceding my move to Velaris, the dreams had become few and far between. Weary of the melancholy that followed their bliss, I had hoped the change in scenery would rid me of them entirely. That night, however, as I slept in my bed under the Night Court sky, the visions returned more vividly than ever before.

This time, I lay in a large, warm bed, listening to the steady breathing of the person at my side. My bed partner was also awake, although he didn’t speak. Instead, we lay in comfortable silence, mulling over something important that I couldn’t quite place. I tried to turn my head and see his face, only to realize that the body I inhabited was not my own at all. I didn’t often see the world through the dream couple’s eyes, though occasionally I’d find myself inside one of their heads, catching snippets of time from their perspective. Usually, these sorts of dreams lasted mere seconds, but this time, the vision lingered with shocking clarity. 

The female from my dreams closed her eyes, plunging us both into darkness as she cuddled against the male. “We’ll find her,” he whispered, his voice deep and rich. He placed a kiss on her forehead, pulling her close, and just as she opened her mouth to answer, I was pulled from the dreamscape abruptly. 

Waking in an empty bed left me feeling more hollow than ever before, as though a hole had been carved in my chest. I wanted to cry out in frustration, kicking myself for being so enthralled by people who existed only in my head. I had seen sicknesses of the mind before, mostly in Fae who were very old or had fought in the war, and I wondered if something like this might mark the beginning of it. 

I didn’t have time to ponder my mental state, though, the silver light of dawn indicating it would soon be time for me to head to the healing halls. I dressed in a daze, choosing a long sleeve tunic and thick leggings for practicality’s sake. The clothing I brought was suited to the cold, and if the temperatures outside held, I would soon need a new wardrobe. I thought back to the city folk I had seen the night prior and hoped my attire wouldn’t be too out of place. 

Elise, the other Winter Court healer who had journeyed with me, was already in the foyer when I came downstairs. To my relief, she wore a similar outfit, and the presence of a familiar face helped put me at ease. We were soon joined by Ezran, a transplant from the Dawn Court who had joined us partway through the trip. 

“First day of the rest of our lives, ladies,” he announced with a sly grin on his face, taking the lead as we stepped into the busy street. Ezran had proven to be an outgoing and boisterous spirit, a quality that would serve him well in the new city. It was a stark contrast to Elise’s placid calm, but the two had become fast friends and walked shoulder to shoulder as we wound through the streets. Something sparked in Elise’s eye when he spoke, and I made a note to ask her about it later. 

In the daylight, the healing halls looked even larger, their scope nearly rivaling that of the Winter Court’s where I had trained. Madja’s assistant Greta, a no-nonsense female with an air of authority, oriented us to the space. We would start in the clinic downstairs, where we would apprentice under Madja when time allowed and soon take appointments of our own. The day went by in a whirlwind, and by the time we were dismissed for lunch, I was aching for a reprieve. Ezran, Elise, and I stuck together, taking Greta’s recommendation regarding a small cafe down the street. Once we had our own apartments, I would need to bring lunch to save money, but in the meantime, I had an excuse to indulge. 

“I heard the High Lord eats here sometimes,” Ezran said as we settled on the patio with our meal, earning a look of skepticism from both me and Elise. The cafe was tasteful and by no means run down, but it lacked the grandeur one would expect of an eatery frequented by the High Lord. “I’m serious! My cousin used to live here, he said the Inner Circle is pretty casual compared to other courts. He said we’ll probably see some of them before long.” 

I had heard of High Lord Rhysand’s Inner Circle before, each member a legend in their own right. The thought of seeing them roaming the city streets was rather outlandish, let alone walking past the High Lord or Lady themselves. It wasn’t that I hadn’t met the High Lord of Winter before, but his appearances always felt official in some capacity, and certainly not a thing of chance. 

I spent the rest of lunch lost in thought, so much so that Elise had to flick me on the arm to grab my attention as she and Ezran stood to leave. I was still deep in thought when we returned to the healing halls, and I nearly missed the pair speaking to Madja when we entered. In fact, had it not been for both Elise and Ezran snatching my arm to pull me back, I might have walked right into them. They turned as we entered and my mouth went dry. 

Both were tall and imposing figures, the air around them almost crackling with power. The female was slim and statuesque, with sharp, high cheekbones and piercing grey eyes. Her, honey brown hair was swept into an elegant braid and although she wore no crown, she held herself like a queen. The male next to her was incredibly tall, with thick, wide shoulders that spoke of incredible strength. His dark hair was pulled into a low bun, and when he turned, I caught sight of a devastatingly handsome face. Large wings protruded from his back, folded in and held tightly, though imposing nonetheless. 

My heart hammered in my chest, something like panic bubbling up there. After gaping for a moment longer than was appropriate, I finally pinpointed the reason for my shock. The male was Cassian, General of the Night Court and fearsome warrior, and the female was his mate, Lady Nesta, the Valkerie and sister of the High Lady. They made an exceptionally beautiful and intimidating pair, and for some reason, I’d never been more tempted to take off running.

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Initially, Cassian and Nesta decided they would wait until the end of the day to visit the healing halls, figuring the best time to catch sight of the new healers was as they were leaving. By midday, however, neither could hold off their curiosity any longer and they headed into the city. The healing halls were fairly empty when they entered, Madja appearing to greet them alone. “What brings you two here?” she asked warmly. 

“We wanted to see how the new healers are settling,” Nesta said, a charming smile on her lips. Madja seemed puzzled but was too polite to press them about their true purpose.

“They’re doing quite well. They only just arrived last night, though,” said Madja. 

“Tell me about them,” Cassian spoke, sharing a look with Nesta.

“Ah yes, one from the Dawn Court, Ezran, and two from Winter, Elise and Y/N,” Madja answered. Something about the third name rang true for Cassian and Nesta, but before they could ask more about her, the door behind them opened and someone gave a cry of surprise.

Two Fae, a male, and a female were grasping another Fae by each of her arms, pulling her back across the threshold into the hall. The female between them looked up in surprise, her eyes widening at the sight of Cassian and Nesta. 

The first thing Nesta noticed was that she was rather short, perhaps only a few inches taller than Amren. Her frame was downright delicate next to most Fae, the top of her head just reaching Nesta’s chin.

The second thing Nesta noticed was that she was devastatingly beautiful. The afternoon sun pouring in behind her gave her an angelic glow that sent Nesta’s heart thundering. She had seen her fair share of attractive females, especially since becoming Fae, but none had her weak in the knees quite like this.

The third, was that this was her mate, her’s and Cassian’s. They had found their missing piece. 

Overwhelmed by the shock of the bond completing, Nesta zeroed in on the strange Fae clutching her mate, pulling her away. The Valkerie, driven by pure instinct, stepped forward as if to lunge, and for once, Cassian was the more levelheaded of the two, taking hold of her hand to ground her. Indeed, attacking their mate’s companion was unlikely to ingratiate themselves to her, but the territorial rage that bubbled within Nesta was difficult to contain. It must have bled into her expression, as the two strange Fae flanking her mate shrunk back. A glance at Cassian told her all she needed to know. He had felt the bond click into place just as she had, and she could feel his shock radiating down their own connection. His jaw was tight and he gripped her hand, as if holding himself back as well. 

Madja spoke, breaking some of the tension, “These are the recruits I was telling you about. Ezran, Y/N, and Elise.” Y/N. Nesta fought the urge to test how the word would feel on her tongue. “This is General Cassian and Lady Nesta, members of the High Lord’s Inner Circle.” 

The male, Ezran, stepped forward to extend his hand in greeting, but the gesture was lost on Cassian and Nesta, who were transfixed by their newfound mate. She didn’t appear to have felt the bond, though discomfort of some sort plagued her. She took a step back and it was Nesta this time who caught Cassian, preventing him from stepping closer. Azriel’s word’s rang in her ears, about how intimidating they might be as mates, and she was desperate to make a good impression. “It’s lovely to meet you,” Nesta forced herself to look away from Y/N, shaking the male’s outstretched hand with a fake smile. “Welcome to the Night Court,” Nesta couldn’t help but look directly at Y/N again when she said it.

The small female smiled, her face tight and slightly paler than before, but before she could read into it further, Madja interrupted, “Was there anything else I can do for you, this afternoon?” 

“No, thank you Madja,” Cassian answered, his voice slightly quieter than usual. “It’s good to see Velaris has some new talent in the healing halls.” Everything in him was screaming to remain close to his new mate, but he knew he and Nesta would need to regroup, lest they fumble their first meeting with the female. By the time he turned to take his leave, placing a hand on Nesta’s shoulder blades to guide her along in turn, Y/N had disappeared down the hallway. 

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#cassian x reader #nesta x reader #nessian x reader #cassian x you #nesta x you #nessian x you #poly!nessian #acotar #nessian #acotar fanfic #my stuff #ff

[alltimefail-sims]

I think I made Celebrazioni D’amore kinda sexy...😏

I'm gonna ramble now!!! ↓

HOLY CRAP this lot has been a HUGE challenge. Every time I'd think I was close to being done, this freaking lot would provide me with an even more bizarre and questionable feature than the one previously conquered... but despite nearly throwing in the towel, here we are! Phew!

I changed so. much.

The biggest change I made is that I shrunk the building down quite a bit to eliminate the excessive, gaping, empty spaces that were quite literally everywhere and serving no function whatsoever. I also moved and downsized the mega stairs, fixed all the visual balance issues (like one side of the build being heavier than another or tables being off-center from the stage and etc.), made the bottom floor's main area an actual room (yes... that was an issue in the original build), removed the heinous carpeting (goodbye random cheetah print patches), landscaped basically from scratch, and so. much. more. I'm relieved to say that when I look at these pictures though I still feel like I'm looking at the same lot... just a more functional and aesthetically pleasing version of it.

The OG build made a good attempt at something adjacent to "character," and even though it was a bit of a swing and a miss, I wanted to maintain that intention. I never do nightclub or lounge lots so this became a great exercise in pushing myself to build in a style I don't typically gravitate toward. (Using neon, colored lighting and modern fixtures in the same build?? Unheard of for me!) Some of my favorite parts aren't even pictured, so I'm really excited to share the whole thing. Although I'm not done (fingers crossed that I'll wrap it up tomorrow...) I am pretty damn close, and that's a win in my book! I have two things left to do: first I need to decide if I'm going to keep the exterior paint colors (currently a combo of dark purple and magenta) or swap one of the colors out for something like a plain "base" (such as brick). After that I just have to... *gulps*...playtest it (yes I am shuddering and crying profusely. Ask your god to give me mercy). TLDR: I will probably post this lot by Monday at the latest, so keep an eye out for it!

One last thing!!! I promised it would be extremely DLC-lite... and it is!!! It uses less DLCs than every single one of my shell builds. Woohoo! Goal met!

Okay, I'm officially done talking now! If you read all of my rambling... you have my undying love and appreciation. You are also probably entitled to financial compensation for your time (note: we at B.B.R.U.* are not taking cases and claims at the moment, unfortunately). But might I say that you are cooler than the other side of the pillow? 😎 Hopefully that will suffice.

Byeeeee friends! ❤

*B.B.R.U. stands for "Broke Bitches R Us," in case you were wondering. It's my company and I'm the CEO, bless

#ts4 #simblr #the sims 4 #sims 4 #the sims community #ts4 screenshots #ts4 build mode #ts4 tartosa #ts4 my wedding stories #tartosa #in progress #personal #update #*V chats

[gregor-samsa-but-awezome]

Haiii m postin bout my guilty gear au now so erm

This is mostly j art dump butt I’ll speak bout it a lil because I lov lov lov it so so much.

It’s called RedOrder (based off Side red drama cd and since specifically order-sol is used)

IT features mostly Sol, Sin, and Bedmo (conmtext: i call him bedmo so i don't constally flip flop between Bedman or Romeo). The reason I chose this silly little group of people is because they all deal with loss

I will dabble more about them sepratly in the read more ok bye

(Note: i color coded the text to avoid confusion)

Sol Badguy - Commander of the Order

Sol Badguy, when Ky died, became the commander of the order. He has rejected his humanity to focus just on the order. He is heavily ridden with PTSD from just being in the order and experiencing Ky's death first hand. Nor can he grabble with the fact Ky, is dead, choosing to suppress the memory of him ever existing.

His inhibitor doesn't function as well due to stress and lack of repairs, leaving him with small Horn, wing, and tail appendages visible. But he can usually conceal them under Hair or clothing. As well as having some fangs that slightly poke out of his mouf.

Thats it 4 Sol :3

Sin Badguy - Happy go lucky High Spirts

Since Ky never met Dizzy, Sin was found as an orphan, being young and his simalries to the Late Ky, Sol decided to take Sin under his wing. Thus gaining the 'Badguy' name. Later finding out that the kid was a gear due to his fast growth and ginormous appetite.

Sin views Sol as his father, because he never met his parents due to being so young. He'll refer to Sol usually as 'Dad' but if he chooses to get on Sol's nerves, "Old Man'.

Sin fights with an old abandoned Stop sign he found on a bounty. The reason because, "Just because something says stop- It won't stop me! We gotta keep movin' forward-!"

Romeo F. Neuman - Border of Awake and Asleep

As a young Child, Romeo was always bed-ridden due to an undiscovered condition, which causes his body and mind to shut down due if overused. Eventually, one day he didn't wake up. Going into a comatose-like state, Being trapped into his dreams deep into his subconscious.

When he awoke years later, he wasn't in a hospital anymore. He was at a campsite, and 2 people were attempting to talk to him. Which was Sol and Sin, who found him on a failed bounty. And so, without another purpose, joined in on their bounty hunting group in hopes of finding his sister.

Romeo is described as timid and quiet, muttering unheard paragraphs under his breath, but he lights up like a switchboard if given a task that deals with mechanics.

He treats Sol like a distant ghost, being rather protective of him.

While he treats Sin like a good friend, being the only one who can snap him out of his shell at times.

Ty 4 readin.... i will try to post mor bout it i hope you guys like it. If you wanna make stuff 4 it go for it!1 my dms r open if you have ideas.

#guilty gear #oc #art #i am insane #bedman #order sol #sol badguy #sin kiske #au #RedOrdergg