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cacoetheswriting · 3 months

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honesty: the music video

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x popstar!fem!reader word count: 2.3k summary: after a long day on set, you can't wait to get it on with your costar.

content warnings: 18+, minors dni: mature themes, literally smut with a minor plot, established relationship, unprotected p in v, overstimulation, praise kink, dom-ish eddie, adult language, heavy use of pet names, mentions of aftercare — if i missed anything in this chapter, pls let me know!

celebrity skin. masterlist <- part of this lil' universe, but can totally be read as a stand-alone. timeline wise, this takes place somewhere after part 3 and before end part 5.

“We want it to be sexy.”

“But not too sexy.”

“Revealing.”

“But not too revealing.”

“Sounds like you guys don’t know what you want,” Eddie chimes in, interrupting the back and forth of your respective teams.

You stifle a giggle.

“That’s ‘cause of the two distinct styles,” someone from your team clarifies, “We wanna be respectful.”

“For sure,” one of the creatives on the Corroded Coffin side agrees. There’s a short pause. “We will have you two kiss at the end, though.”

At that, Eddie smirks. He looks at you from across the table and you could just about melt right there, blood rushing to your face, warming your cheeks.

“That won’t be a problem,” he says confidently and winks.

Honesty was a guaranteed hit. Top of the charts. Everybody that’s been so far involved in the project said it. They praised it. From the bass, drums, to the guitar and vocals. The production value was off the scale. A dream arrangement that would stand the test of time.

All the song needed was a music video equally as captivating.

A back and forth discourse began shortly after you first started recording with the band: whose style should the clip resemble more?

Corroded Coffin screamed all things dark, maybe a little gory. Their usual expression featured slightly melancholy undertones and a lot of references to all things Dungeons & Dragons. Imaginative, for sure. An artistry that had rarely been seen in the genre.

Although it’s been an artistry vastly different from yours.

The glitter hadn’t necessarily been your idea, but it certainly became a signature of sorts. Anything sparkly, always. And music videos that told a story. Most often one of love since that’s what you idolised ever since you were a kid — it obviously helped that love also sold millions of copies.

Eddie’s team argued that it’s the band’s song and you’re just a feature, therefore the accompanying video should lean into their style. Your management team was hesitant to agree. Calculating risk in case the lines get blurred a little too much and your pristine image shifts to the opposite end of the spectrum. Hours of arguments. Hours of negotiations. None of which you, or the rockstar were even mildly aware of. Too lost in each other's eyes and soft cotton sheets.

Eventually, a compromise, of sorts, was found.

Ernest Hemingway’s The Killers influenced, in part, a 1946 film noir of the same title, with Ava Gardner and Burt Lancaster taking the lead. The movie, in turn, inspired the black and white music video.

Done up in flair of the characters, Kitty Collins and Ole Anderson (aka Swede), you recreated iconic scenes alongside the brown-eyed rockstar. The rest of the band was also dressed to the nines. Side characters that played their instruments in the background of main shots. They blended in well, while adding a unique spin to the known story.

Overall, the Honesty shoot quickly became a big spectacle. Bigger than anything Eddie Munson and his band of closest friends has ever been lucky enough to be a part of.

Intricate sets. Glamourous. In front of cameras and bright lights, you and your scene partner, Eddie, mouthed along the lyrics to the song as if they were a script. And with every scene, as if the two of you were the only people actually there, no equipment and no crew, you got lost a tiny bit. Lost in the chocolate of the rockstar’s wide gaze. In the way he smelled. The style of that decade suited the brunette greatly, so you became lost in how he looked in this character. Dapper. Unlike you’ve ever witnessed him before. He committed to the role too. A certain swag in his movements. How he touched you so hesitantly, delicately because that’s what the video required.

By the end of the night, after the director yells, “Cut!” to signalise a wrap, a round of applause for all involved in this project, you’re feeling hot and bothered. Sweaty, though not because you just completed a full day’s work. No. Somehow, you found the Corroded Coffin frontman even more attractive than at the start of that day — something you didn’t think was possible. When you glance in his direction, he’s already staring you down, and you know he feels the same way.

Backstage, inside your trailer, you’re sitting cross-legged on the couch. Fingertips at your lips as you wait for that inevitable knock on your door. You know it’s only a matter of time considering the build up of tension throughout the shoot. From the lingering touches and that kiss the director had you two repeat over and over and over…

Logically, you could wait until the two of you were home. Back at Eddie’s Hidden Hills mansion, away from prying eyes and ears. In a bed that’s become all too familiar. Far from possible interruptions. Logic however, well, right now, logic was taking a back burner ‘cause you needed him now. Desperately. And without a doubt, Eddie needed you too.

A knock. Then again. But the rockstar doesn’t wait for you to answer. He lets himself in.

“What happened to the wig?” You ask, raising a brow.

“It was itchy,” he replies with a slight laugh, then shakes his head. “I much prefer my natural locks.”

“That’s too bad,” you say with a slight shrug, “You looked quite smart with that short hair.”

Eddie hangs his head with a smile, though his eyes don’t leave yours. Not even for a second. That’s when you notice the glimmer. That look, the reason he’s here, just like you predicted. So you return the expression. Only yours is a little more sly. Tempting him. Teasing.

“I had fun today.”.

“Me too.”

There’s a lot that happens in the seconds after you stand up. A lot that happens quickly.

Eddie reaches for your wrist, pulling you closer before wrapping his, for once, ringless hand around yours completely. He presses it to the middle of his chest, holding it against his heart. You can feel it beating and that’s enough to make you melt ‘cause it’s strong and you swear it skips at the contact. His other hand reaches for the base of your throat. He holds it gently, caressing upwards until he’s gripping your jaw.

“Kissing you in front of all those other people kinda got me going,” he admits in a low tone.

Naughty, that’s what you want to say, but you don’t get the chance ‘cause his lips crash into yours. Hungry. Desperate. Rough. Heat rushes through your body at the sudden contact, no different than any other time his mouth found yours. You’re at his mercy, always, and he knows it well.

His tongue glides along your top lip and you part your lips to accept him without hesitation. He wastes no time sliding into your mouth, letting this tongue work in tandem with yours as he tilts his head to further deepen the kiss. The hand holding yours lets go, instead finding home on the small of your back, pushing you as close to him as humanly possible. His other hand lets go of your jaw, albeit not completely. Ghosting along the side of your neck before you feel him wrap it around your throat, squeezing lightly. It’s nothing new for Eddie to be a little rougher with you, but there’s something about this moment, after a full day of moderate teasing and borderline foreplay, that causes a moan to burst through you when he squeezes again, only harder.

The rockstar pulls back, sporting a devilish grin. “Making such pretty noises for me and we haven’t even gotten to the best part.”

“Do your worst, Eds.” It’s a dare. Nothing sweet about it.

He smirks at the challenge and before you can register what exactly is happening, Eddie is lifting you up swiftly, hiking up your dress in the process, only to drop you down onto the sofa with a gentle thud. You’re wide-eyed as he unbuckles his belt with one hand, the other tugging at the pantyhose the wardrobe lady had you wear for the last scene of the video. He partially rips them off of you, then he hikes his index finger along the band of your underwear, eagerly pulling them down your legs until they’re wrapped around your ankles, with the reminisce of your stockings.

“The heels stay on,” the rockstar instructs, pushing your legs apart with force and positioning himself in between. All you can do is nod. Half-naked, half in costume. Same as him.

In the space of a heartbeat, his lips are on yours again. This time they don’t stay for long, instead moving downwards towards your chest. When he squeezes your breast through the silk material of your dress, he compliments how fucking good you looked, “I wanted to ravish you the second I saw you, baby.”

You whimper at his words, and at the fact that his now freed cock is gently brushing against your wet folds. Not quite breaching, just teasing you further. Only adding to the overall stimulation.

“God, you’re so fucking hot. So fucking pretty. And all mine.” Eddie’s breathing into your bare chest ‘cause somehow in the moment your dress has slipped down ever so slightly and your tits made an appearance. Fingers from one hand are digging into your hip, holding you in place, while the other has you by the ribs. Thumb brushing your soft skin while his hot mouth is sucking on your hardened nipple.

Your eyes are closed. You’re not sure when you closed them. He’s invading your senses all at once. Just when you feel like you can’t take it anymore, when you want to whither and plead for him to touch you where you need him most, Eddie plunges himself into you without warning and your eyes snap open.

“Oh God…” he groans, drawing his hips back only to slam them in again, making your body bounce against him. “Fuck, baby. Jesus.”

You sob in pleasure as Eddie knocks the wind out of you with each relentless thrust, still increasing his speed. Heavy panting and grunting fills the trailer, along with the sounds of where his cock slams against your sweet juices. He’s sitting straight now. Eyes are fixated on the mess you’re both making, where his length disappears in and out of you, while you admire the way his locks fall naturally in place. Although briefly, ‘cause you’re arching your back the next second, rolling your eyes to the back of your head when he hits that sweet spot.

“So. Fucking. Pretty.” He growls. “You’re so fucking pretty when you’re all stretched open like this, sweetheart. Your pussy was made for my cock, baby. You take it so well. You take this big dick so well, my good girl. Fucking made for me. Ain’t that right, dollface?”

“Made for you, Eds.” You just about whisper back, nodding your head feverishly.

Slap. His hand makes contact with your thigh and you practically wail. “That’s right,” he praises, “Made for me. So fucking tight for me.” Slap. Slap. Slap.

Eddie’s cock starts to swell. You can feel it expand inside of you, then again when he thrusts back in. It has you heaving. The speed he’s established is close to becoming a little too much for the two of you and he drops his weight slightly, allowing you to wrap your arms around him, nails digging into his bare back. He can sense that you too are close and he’s trying hard to hold back, make this moment last longer, but his body refuses to slow down. Chasing the way your glistening pussy chokes his length.

“Where do you want me baby?”

“Inside,” you croak out. “Cum in me, Eddie. Please. I need you to fill me up.”

“M’mph—” He chokes out, movements growing more and more erratic. The whole trailer is shaking at this point, that’s what it feels like to the two of you anyway. “Everybody out there will know what a good little slut you are. Not that innocent. Wanting me to fill you full of my cum, fuck.”

Slap. Slap. Against your thigh.

“Please, Eddie.”

Slap.

“Shh… I’ll give you what you want, sweetheart.” He coos, “Gonna pump you full. Gonna make you see stars while my cum drips out of you.”

That’s when you shatter around him, uncontrollable desperate squeals making him groan louder as he continues. It’s sloppy, messy, and once you’ve completely unravelled underneath him, the rockstar can’t contain himself any longer. He lets out a broken moan as ropes and ropes of his warm spend start to throb into your hole.

His body gives up at the last spur and he drops flat on top of you, although not without a loose kiss placed to your jaw. His cock remains inside of your pussy. You can feel it pulsing until, after a few minutes, it no longer matches the beat of your heart.

Eddie lifts himself then. He kisses you softly and you smile against his mouth. When he eventually slips out and stands, he tells you not to move, that he’ll grab a towel from the small trailer bathroom and will help you get cleaned up.

“Wardrobe is going to kill us,” you call after him, balancing on your elbows as you sit up slowly. “Pretty sure these clothes can never be worn again. Purely for the fact that they reek of sex.”

“At least your wig stayed in place,” Eddie points out lightheartedly when he returns, his pants once again buckled, a towel in his hand. “That’s something the hair and makeup team should be proud of.”

“I’ll be sure to tell them,” you say, meaning it as a joke ‘cause there’s no way you would ever admit to what sins the two of you just committed.

Eddie smirks. “Pretty sure they already know,” he says as if it’s no big deal, “We weren’t exactly quiet, sweetheart.”

as always, thank you for reading! pls comment, reblog & support your creators.

celebrity skin. masterlist | the killers (1946) reference

& the celebrity skin. taglist: @eviethetheatrefreak , @thirddeadlysin , @haylaansmi , @nope-thanks , @tlclick73 , @vintagehellfire , @ashlynnkennedy , @avalon-wolf , @sidthedollface2 , @astheni-a , @bebe07011 , @aysheashea , @papillonoirsworld , @vol2eddie , @spideyanakin-interacts , @rogers-sweatbands , @mimsie95 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills - (if your user is crossed out, it means the tag isn’t working. pls check you’ve enabled tagging in your settings)

#this one is a little self indulgent ngl #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson filth #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie smut #stranger things #stranger things smut #celebrity skin.

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marimbles · 4 months

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happy holidays @0ellestrid0! I was your secret santa for @mlsecretsanta 💜

I don’t know much about solarpunk but I was intrigued by the concept and wanted to give it a shot! hopefully this is ok. random silly solarpunk AU ideas under the cut hehe

since solarpunk is about solar power and green/eco-friendly societal structure, I figured plants would be central to an ML solarpunk AU. it’s cool to imagine a version of Paris with lots of green areas and clever, space-saving, clean-energy solutions. I like the idea of the dupain-chengs having their own greenhouse where they grow ingredients for use in the bakery. And I wanted marinette to have her own greenhouse too where she grows plants that she uses as fibers and dyes for making clothes! So that’s what I drew here. Chat Noir likes to help marinette in her garden and he nerds out about the plants which she thinks is very cute:)

The plant in the middle is associated with ladybug and chat noir. I love sun/moon symbolism and that seemed to fit a solarpunk AU really well so I ran with it haha. in this AU I thought tikki could be a spotted sun beetle and plagg could be a black moon cat (or panther?). sun beetles would be associated with the sundrop plant (first image), and moon cats would be associated with moonflowers (second image). chat noir’s tattoo is a moonflower and in my mind ladybug would have a matching one that’s a sundrop.

The moonflower is inspired by the actual plant of the same name, which blooms only at night, except I wanted to also make it bioluminescent bc that’s cool lol. (I’ve been playing lots of tears of the kingdom and I always love the blue nightshades and silent princesses that glow blue in the dark!) irl moonflowers are actually a type of morning glory, which typically bloom in the morning in full sunlight and then close up at night. so in this AU the sundrop is the corresponding plant (since “sunflower” is already taken, haha) and it would also glow, but only during the day when it’s blooming.

I thought maybe sundrops and moonflowers could have magical effects and marinette is experimenting to discover them. maybe there’s stuff about them in the grimoire and she’s trying to unlock special powers for her and chat noir. maybe those effects and the symbolism of the plants could help her understand more about her and chat’s roles and abilities and potential and even help her discover the key to defeating hawkmoth…hmm… (I really haven’t thought too deeply about it lol I just like glowing plants)

As for their outfits…I was just trying to make them look sort of “punk”-y 😂 I feel like in all the punk AUs like steampunk, cyberpunk, etc, people are always wearing goggles and boots and aprons and vests and stuff with pockets and zippers and arm braces. So. I made a vague attempt fjdkkd

anyway thanks for humoring me with my rambling lol I hope you enjoy and that you had a good holiday!

#also sorry this is a little late!!#ml #marichat #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #solarpunk #mine #my art

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xmalereader · 10 months

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Miguel O’Hara X Black Cat! Male Reader

|| Masterlist ||

Authors Note: Took some inspiration from Felicia Hardy and Selene Kyle, let’s be honest Selene is my mother and will let her whip me whenever she wants 😌, so why not make this shot full of sass and perhaps some slight sexual tension? Also all Spanish words are correct, I am fluent in Spanish and Latino myself!

Summary: Every universe had a black cat, weather it ends in a good or bad outcome every Spider-Man had at least experienced being around a black cat. Miguel had his own variant back at his universe, but his story with black cat is interesting.

Warnings: ATSV Slight Spoilers! Some angst, mentions of time travel, breaking and entering, kissing, language, Miguel is tired, mentions of past divorce, mentions of Gabrielle, timeline, loop holes, miles wants to be adopted, reader is trying to bring hell, reader is protective of Miles, breaking the rules, toxic Miguel, Toxic reader, a negative plus a negative is a positive.

Word count: 4.1K

— || Part Two || Part Three ||

—

Noir didn’t know why he enjoyed watching the kid mess up, but it brought some joy into his daily task. Here he is standing on the edge of a roof top, staring down at the city’s number one hero trying to get himself untangled from his own webs. Both he and the little spider in red and black were chasing each other throughout the entire city, nearing midnight he was caught by the cities hero stealing a very valuable gem that was worth thousands, good enough for Noir to steal. How could he not? Now, after hours of chasing here he stands, head tilted in disappointment as he watches the little spider trying to escape his own webs after a malfunction in his own creation.

“Now this goes—wait, no…”

Noir tilts his head back, signing deeply to himself as he tucks the gems into his pocket before jumping down from the building and landing in front of the kid. He was a thief, not some cruel person who’s going to leave this poor kid stuck. “Kid—“

“I got it! I got it! Just have to—AH!”

The kid only get himself tangled into the web even more, causing the thief to roll his eyes, using his own claws to cut thought the webbing like it was nothing. The little spider looks around in surprise and smiles under his mask. “Hey, that worked!”

“Indeed it did.” Noir mocks him back, rolling his eyes from underneath his goggles.

“Now, I’m turning you in—!”

Noir holds his hand up to cut the kid off, pinching the bridge of his nose with a deep sigh. “Kid, we’ve done this too many times. We all know that you’ll never be able to get me so just let it go and go after someone who is actually causing harm.” He give the kid a pointed look before using his grappling hook to get back to the roof top and continue his way back home. Only for the kid to follow after him, he expects himself to get into a fight with the kid again, knowing that he would win the fight and end things quickly.

“Wait! Look, I get that what you’re doing isn’t entirely dangerous nor are you harming anyone but, why do it? Why steal when you can just get a job?”

Noir’s eyes widen and bursts out laughing, shaking his head as the kid stares back confused. “Get a job? Kid, I did have a job but, no matter where I worked it was never enough to survive. Not everyone has an easy life and if you have to take some risks then take it. You can try and stop me all you want, kid. But, it won’t make things better.”

The kid stays silent, taking in his words as Noir brushed past him and makes his way towards the other side of the roof.

“Wait!”

Noir sighs, hand on his hip and looks over his shoulder to see the kid standing his distance. “I’ll stop coming after you.”

That causes him to raise a brow, confused and surprised by the kids sudden words, before he could ask why the kid speaks up. “If you teach me how to fight.”

Of course.

That’s how the two have been getting along after a year of teaching the kid how to defend himself, he was new to the whole hero thing and Noir was the only one who was able to teach him a thing or two. It was rare for him to connect with people who weren’t trying to kill him or let alone take him to prison for stealing something valuable of theirs.

Currently both of the two are sitting on top of a clock tower, the kid eating some pizza while Noir sips his morning coffee, watching the sunrise after spending all night training the kid on how to land his punches. “Isn’t it too early for you to be eating that stuff?” He mumbled out, getting the kids attention who turns to him with a stuffed mouth full of pizza.

“…no?”

Noir chuckles at the kid. “Don’t come to me if you start getting heartburn.” He mumbled around his coffee cup before taking another sip, focusing on the view ahead. The two spend most mornings like this, eating ‘breakfast’ together and enjoying each others company. The kid had stopped trying to get him arrested and each time Noir was caught stealing he always made it out without an issue.

He’s known the kid for a year now and he’s grown onto him. The last time he was around someone he cared about he ended up losing everything and always pushed people away from getting too close, but the kid always found his way back into his life. Noir breaths softly, glancing at the kid who had just finished his box of pizza and closed the lid while whipping the grease from his fingers onto his suit, causing the older man to grimace at his manners.

“All done, so what’s the training today?” The kids voice is full of enthusiasm which causes Noir to chuckle. “No more training.” He sets his coffee cup to the side and stands from sitting on the edge of the clock tower, towering over the kid who tilts his head back, staring at his second mentor. “You’re ready to do things on your own and I am done here.”

“Wait what?” The kid tilts his head to the side. “What do you mean your done here? Are you leaving?”

Noir placed a gentle hand on the kids shoulder. “You’ll do fine on your own, I taught you nearly everything I know. I’m clearly not needed anymore and I have business to attend somewhere else.” Noir was reaching a deadline with his stay here with the kid and had to move onto his next task, wanting to avoid bringing the kid anymore trouble that he’s already dealing with alone in this city.

The little spider before him doesn’t know how to react to this situation, clearly not happy with the outcome but knowing that he can’t do anything about it. “Will you be back?” He asks.

“Maybe, maybe not.” Noir shrugs his shoulders, sighing deeply to himself. “I don’t know…” He really didn’t, one moment he’s here and the next he’s gone. That was his plan and always has been.

Noir can see how bummed out the kid is and can’t help but, pull the kid into a gentle hug. “I’m ever around I’ll make sure to meet you. Perhaps during one of our usual chases.” He gets the kid to chuckle at his humor before the two pull apart. He’s staring at the kid with a sad smile, with a clawed index finger he bops the kid on the nose or where he thinks his nose is at due to him wearing the mask.

“Take care of yourself kid.”

“I’m not a kid…”

Noir chuckled. “You’ll always be a kid.” He picks up his empty coffee cup, making his way over to the ledge of the clock tower, facing his back towards the kid before looking over his shoulder to give the kid one last advice. “Don’t let anyone tell you what you can’t do, remember that.”

With that he jumps off the tower, leaving the kid on his own to continue on his own path.

Noir already planned to leave this place and couldn’t delay it any longer before he finds him. Upon arriving to his apartment, he slips through the window undetected from the neighbors and slips off his tinted goggles along with his gloves, letting out a deep exhale as he looks around the semi empty apartment that he was only planning to use for a short period of time.

He toss the gloves to the side and keeps the rest of his uniform on as he works around the apartment, collecting certain things to take with him while the other stuff he stuffed inside a trash bag, clearly not needing that stuff any longer and tossing it out the window, where it landed down below and into the dumpster.

Once the apartment is fully empty he reaches inside the bag he was planning on taking with him, unzipping the front pocket and pulling out a silver bracelet. He stares at the blank screen, knowing that once he turns it on he will be traced, only giving him a few minutes to plan his escape. He zips up his bag and slips on his goggles again along with his gloves, slipping the bracelet over his wrist and with his index finger he taps on the blank screen, watching it turn on, activating.

“Five minutes.” He whispers to himself as he quickly types in Earth-42502, watching as a portal opens before him.

Adjusting his goggles, he takes a step forward only to freeze in place when another portal opens behind him. “The hell?” He looks over his shoulder, eyes widening under the goggles as a flash of red and blue zips towards him. He doesn’t have time to think as a hand wraps around his throat, knocking him back into the other earth.

The two are free falling through the air, grunting as his hand finds the others wrist and glares. He’s quick to use his strength, kicking him off as they continue to fall. “That was faster than usual.” He calls out, getting the other spiders attention who glared under his mask.

It didn’t take long for them to arrive to Earth-42502, portal opening onto the roof top of Oscorp Tower. Noir lands gracefully, but is quick to jump out of the way when the other spider lands where he once stood.

“Here I thought I’d never find you.”

Noir remembers that voice too well, remembering the days that the two would wake up next to each other.

“Seems like your desperate to find me.” Noir speaks up, taking cautious steps back as his eyes follow Miguels large figure. The man showed off his talons, taking dangerous steps forward as if stalking his prey.

“Let me guess, you were waiting until I activated this little guy, huh?” He raised his left arm to show off the bracelet he wore. The same bracelet that once belonged to Miguel and that he was able to snatch from during the time he was running away from Miguel. “Lyla’s not good at tracking.” He adds with a grin on his face.

“At least she found you before you can even open a portal to this earth. An earth that you don’t belong too.” Miguels voice is full of irritation, tired of having to chance Noir from different universes each time he disappeared off the radar.

“I know where I belong.”

Noirs voice drops down to a serious one, glaring under his own goggles as he takes steps back, slowly stepping on top of the ledge. “I’m not going back to that place, not after what you did.” He spits out.

“I was only trying to fix things.” Miguel sneers.

“By destroying a universe for our daughter? A daughter that wasn’t ours.”

“She was!”

“She belonged to another version of us and not us.” He points between himself and Miguel. The two have been chasing each other since day one, Miguels cannon affected him badly, causing him to lose his own child. Miguel had tried to find ways to fix it by going to other universe in hopes of getting their lives back together again only to mess things up badly and to cause a whole universe to be destroy. Their constant arguing grew worse as the days went on the two couldn’t be in a room together without trying to tear each other apart, leading to a divorce between the two. Well, a divorce wasn't really an option due to their universe being gone and instead was considered a break up between the two without having to sign he paper work.

In the public’s eye they were seen as married still. For them, they were separated.

Noir didn’t start stealing until after he stole Miguel’s bracelet, finding a way to stop Lyla from tracking him down and using it to escape from the man he loved. Giving himself a new life, stealing from every universe and only causing trouble for Miguel due to the constant anamolies being placed in the wrong universe, only giving the man extra work on getting it fixed.

You could say that it was Noirs way of showing revenge for all of the times Miguel blamed him for trying. Earning himself a reputation and treating it like a game.

“Y/n—“

“I don’t have time for you, right now.” Y/n hissed out, turning around and jumping off the building, getting Miguel to panic all of sudden and run after him, jumping off and diving down to wrap his arm around Y/n’s waist and using his talons to grip onto the side of the building also using his webs to hold on.

“What—?”

“I’m not letting you go that easy.” Said Miguel, grinning under his mask as Y/n’s eyes widen at the realization.”Don’t you dare!” Y/n uses his own claws in a threatening way only for Miguel to ignore his threatens, getting Lyla to open a portal back to their earth and quickly dropping his (ex) husband down the portal. Only for Y/n to land inside Miguels little anomaly prison as one of his traps is set around him, caging him inside a tight space as he tried to use his claws to claws his way through.

It wasn’t until Miguel drops down in front of him. The two could easily be face to face if it wasn’t for the barrier stopping them. “You’ll stay here until everything is fixed and then you can scream and yell all you want.” Said Miguel a hand on his own hip as his mask dissolves away, showing his real face to Y/n who frowned. “You can keep me here all you want, but I will always find a way out.” He was testing him.

This wouldn’t be the first time that he was trapped under Miguels watch, he’s escaped plenty of times before and he will do it again.

Miguel chuckled deeply. “Oh, mi amor. This time it’s different, because I’m going to make sure that I have a close eye on you twenty-four seven.” He looks over his shoulder to nod at one of the spiders from his society who turns around to type away on their computer. All of sudden Y/n is transformed to Miguels lab, appearing in the room in a flash as he yelps in surprise.

“Jesus…” He breaths out in surprise a hand over his beating heart as he falls back onto his bottom. “A heads up would have been nice.”

“Stop being annoying and be quiet.” Said Miguel, circling him like prey and focusing back on his work. Y/n grins, reaching up to push his goggles up and over his head. “Listen, cabeza de mierda. You brought me here in order to keep an eye on me, but never did you say that I couldn’t annoy you.”

“I—“

“So, I won’t stop talking your ass off until you let me go.”

Miguel stares down at his husband, knowing the man well enough to know that he was keeping that promise. The taller spider sighs in annoyance, already regretting his choice as Y/n grins at him and leans back against his elbows and crossing his leg over the other, lying down as he groans out loudly.

“Who would have thought, the two of us together again. After a year? Damn, it’s already been a year, I remember you slamming into a wall when chasing me through Earth-6574. God, the anger in your eyes was so satisfying!”

Miguel tried to focus on his work, ignoring the mans words as he continues on, rambling on about anything that will annoy Miguel until the man gives in.

The conversation went for hours, with Y/n changing positions every few minutes, one minute he’s lying down and the next he’s sitting. Another time he’s doing a handstand in the small space he’s trapped in or using his claws to try and penetrate the force field around him only to fail. He didn’t stop until he suddenly grew bored, lips sealed as Miguel finally takes in the peaceful silence, letting out a deep sigh of relief.

“There it is.”

Miguel snaps his head towards Y/n, already knowing his plan.

“Enjoyed your five seconds of peace and quiet? Because, I was just getting started.”

Miguel wants to shout, opening his mouth to throw back an insult only for him to be disturbed by the sound of people entering his lab, getting his attention. Y/n also looks over to the group of teens approaching them, one specific teen getting the thief’s attention as he narrows his eyes, focusing on the curly hair and dark skin until his eyes widen in realization.

“Miles?”

Even though he’s only known the kid for a year and had trained him on the side, he knew who the kid was under the mask, but never said anything. Not wanting to freak the kid out. Whenever the kid wasn’t hiding behind the mask, Y/n would keep a close eye on the kid, making sure that he was focusing on school and attending his family diners and parties, somehow feeling responsible for the kids disappearance each time he skipped classes or lunch only to meet up with enthusiasm, excited to learn something new from the thief that the teen befriend somehow.

It didn’t take long for the platform to lower, reaching the ground and getting the teens attention. Before Miles could introduce himself or hand Miguel the empanada that he had in hand. The kids eyes fall onto Y/n, narrowing his eyes a bit. “Noir?”

This gets everyone’s attention, including Miguel who snaps his head in Y/n’s direction with a knowing glare that he knew too well.

“Hey kiddo!” Noir waves at Miles with a wide grin on his face, side eyeing Miguel as he feels his burning glare. Miles doesn’t think twice to quickly rush over and jump onto the platform, worry in his eyes as he ignores Miguel’s surprised look along with Gwen’s panicked looked and Hobie’s grin. The teenager was too focused on Noir to care about what the others were thinking about his actions, his palms against the force field that separated the two as he tries to find a way to get him out. “Why are you here? How are you here?” Miles began to ask as Y/n looked at Miles with a fond look and faint smile.

“Easy kid, I’m alright.” He tries to reassure the kid.

“Get him out.” Miles blurts out, turning to Miguel with a frown on his face. The sudden demand shocks the others, but not Y/n who can only smirk over Miles shoulder and towards Miguel who frowned deeply. “I’d listen to the kid.” He whispers, loud enough for his ex to hear.

Miguel grunts in disapproval and had no choice but to do as told as gets red of the red field around him, finally setting him free as Y/n stands from his spot, stretching his arms in the air like a cat and getting caught by surprise when Miles hugs the other man. “Whoa! Easy kid, I’m alright.” He reassured him, giving his back a soft pat.

His actions don’t go unnoticed as Miguel watched the two interact with each other, clearly reading the signs that Y/n had claimed this kid as his own, treating him with care and respect, knowing that if he comes between the two, Y/n wouldn’t hesitate to fight back like a feral cat. It’s happened before and it won’t stop him from doing it again.

“You said you had to leave.” Miles speaks up, getting Y/n attention who sighs deeply. “About that…” He mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck nervously and giving Miles an awkward smile.

“Noir isn’t from your universe, he belongs in mine. He was caught breaking the rules and had no choice but to bring him here. He’s a slippery one and likes to get away, so letting him out of his cage wasn’t a good idea.” Said Miguel, getting an eye roll from Y/n and placing his hand on his hip. “Don’t be so dramatic, I’ve gotten away from it many times and you didn’t seem to mind.” Y/n said back, making his way around the platform and taking in Miguels work.

He takes notice of the videos and pictures of them both together along with this their daughter, causing a small sad sigh to escape his lips knowing that Miguel hasn’t gotten over the death of their daughter. Y/n was the only one who was able to move on from everything but Miguel, he couldn’t blame him. Everyone coped different with death and took their own pace in recovery. With a clawed finger he turns the pictures off, glancing over to Miguel who was watching him this whole time with a sorrowful look on his face.

Y/n quickly turns away, refusing to look at the man he once loved.

“Wait, you two know each other?” Gwen points between Y/n and Miguel, approaching the duo that stood before her, getting Y/n to smirk widely. “Actually were married.” He quotes out, getting a surprise look from both Gwen and Miles. “Divorced.” Miguel added, hands on his hips as Y/n pouts at his words.

“Divorced? Really, you two would look cool together.” Said Miles. “Adopt me?”

Y/n breaks out in laughter, throwing his head back as he laughs at Miles words. He jumps offer the platform and takes miles into his arms, pulling the kid close to him and squeezing him tight. “How did my ward become so adorable? If I could adopt you then I would!”

“Wait, your ward?” Miguel asks, clearly not likening this.

“Yep!”

“He’s taught me a thing or two.” Said Miles and with a proud smile on this face he extends his hand, opening his palm to show Noir the hard-drive that he stole from Miguel, getting a very proud Y/n to hug him again. “My child is learning!” He cheers in excitement while Miguel growls. “No, no, I refuse to let you take in a spider. You are enough trouble, let alone having a kid do it too?”

“If it wasn’t for me the kid wouldn’t have gotten better on his skills. I taught him how to defend himself and perhaps get away with a thing or two…” Even though Miles was suppose to be his universe hero and protector, he couldn’t help but, teach the kid a thing or two when it comes towards breaking and entering. Teaching Miles how to sneak back inside his room or dorm without being noticed and to pick on locks in case of emergencies.

Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose, mumbling to himself in disappointment. “No puedo mas, no puedo mas.”

Y/n rolled his eyes. “So dramatic.” He mumbled as he listens to Miguel ramble on while Miles is being saluted by Hobie, admiring the kids new skills form a very well known thief in many universes.

“Did you know that he stole this guitar for me?” Said Hobie, pointing over his shoulder where his guitar was strapped over his shoulder. “Mad genius.”

Miles laughs. “I don’t like stealing, but Noir once helped me with getting my mom a present for Mother’s Day. He stole a necklace for me, nothing too expensive but also nice.” Said the teen. Clearly he was nervous and ashamed for it when he first got handed the jewel from the known thief only for the anxiety and worry to fade away when he say how happy his mother was about the gift.

His father questioned him and all Miles told his dad was that he worked hard for it.

Noir smiles at the two before looking over to Miguel who stared with disappointment, but Y/n didn’t seem to care one bit wanting the teen to enjoy his life and he wouldn't mind breaking a few rules in order to give the kid what he wanted. Even if it meant bumping into his husband ever once an awhile.

#male reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel O’Hara x male reader #reader #Spider-Man #AU #black cat reader #marvel shot #marvel x male reader #ATMV spoilers #spider man across the spiderverse spoilers #black cat series #BlackCat tag

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celaenaeiln · 7 months

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Do you have any fic recs where dicks relationship with the batfam is the focus?

Yes! These are all fics I've adored

FAVORITE!! I place this fic on a pedestal. It's one of the best fics of all time - The primacy of personal conscience

Favorite! Another one of my all time favorites. Dick, Jason, Tim are deaged to their robin eras and Damian and Bruce are in their current ages - Just, How

Dick gets split into three personalities - The choice to be seen

FAVORITE!! - Dick's buried. But like hell is the batfamily going to let it stay that way - The unnecessary requiem

ALL of CamsthiSky's fics focus of Dick's batfam relations and are good reads - Link

Small moments with Dick and the family - Snippets

Dick, Damian, and Tim. Absent parent Bruce and needy Bruce are the same person as always- prodigal

Favorite! Dick and Damian's relationship and evolution - Snapshots

Sad fic if Dick's reaction after Ric was darker - Strength in a Lack of Continuity

Batfamily's reaction to Dick's sexual objectification - I can't hear you, I don't fear you now

Good fic about something I don't remember (sorry! It's been years but I saved it so it must be good) with young justice and batfamily reactions that were accurate - End Days

If Bruce was a lot darker and acted on his overprotective tendencies collection. It's centered around Dick - Darkish Batfamily

How the batfamily reacts to Dick getting shot in the head - Fallen

Dick buys a bunch of plants and bonds with all of them - let your love grow tall

All of Danishsweethearts works are good - Danishsweethearts

Sad fic about Dick being batman again and batfamily's reaction. I think Tim would react differently. Maybe. But it's a fantastic angst fic - My life's going by but it's just begun

Dick, Damian, and Dick's massive group of friend and allies - Missed a spot

Dick's a civilian but he's still their big brother - Those times that Dick Grayson got tangled up with the batfamily

Dick, Peter Parker, Cat Noir, Danny Fenton and their fathers. PS they're all socialite friends. This has to be canon - The Black Tux Gang

Angst story about Dick if he had mental illness. No happy ending - Shattered Tea Cups

Dick is a changed man after spyral and batfamily's reaction - Downward spyral

Someone planning a hit on Nightwing? Not if Nightwing does it on himself first (fun) - Money for daffodils

Favorite! Dick has retrograde amnesia and Bruce struggles to cope - Harbor

Dick died seven years ago. And then woke up - Faith and fate

Dick's secret abilities the batfamily doesn't notice - Unusual skills and habits

The truth of Dick's death and everyone's reaction - Code B

Favorite! Dick is Talon, Tim is Red Hood, and Jason is Red Robin - A New Adversary

Favorite! Jason and Dick are close. Told through the eyes of everyone else - proximity

Soft fic. ABO but Dick acting as Tim and Damian's mother - Your truth is a deception meant to poison me

Dick's gone but the rape of him is not. The batfamily will avenge their brother. The whole world will - Take the night back

ABO robin reversal collection - Robin Reversal ABO

Werewolf au where Dick meets Jason and Bruce comes along - Den and Pack

If Dick got deaged to renegade era - Pause in the Pendulum

Sweet fic about the Batbros seeking comfort in Dick - Haven

Favorite! Duke time! The Batfamily teasing Dick lovingly - Shenanigans

Dark batfam fic around Dick - Gaslight Manor

Dick will do anything to protect his family (Has Constantine/Dick) - Time (to protect you)

If Dick was Terry McGinnis' biological father - Beyond the Night Collection

Talon!Dick in the Teen Titans universe with batfamily - Just a dead kid

Angst, sad fic about Dick getting tired of being the mediator - Please just get along (I can't do this anymore)

One of my all time favorites - Everyday one headcanon about Nightwing

Batfamily mourning the loss of Dick's hair - He's shorn, we're torn

Jason tries stealing in Bludhaven rather than Gotham. He meets Nightwing instead of Batman and his life gets a whole lot better - Hot wheels

Stephanie time travels and meets Robin Dick! - Oops

Favorite! ALL of iloveyourwords' fics - iloveyourwords

Favorite! ALL of ScarlettSwordMoon's works - ScarlettSwordMoon

Angst fic. So much angst. Sometimes Jason's anger gets the worst of him but it's not because he doesn't care - not even rain has such small hands

Favorite! The heroes are forced to forget Dick. And they regret (has constantine/dick/zatanna) - Love that burned green against skin

Favorite! ALL of Kuroaki's works - Kuroaki

Dick, Tim, and Jason watch Encanto and, well, Surface Pressure was made for Dick - Who am I if I don't have what it takes

Pre-robin Dick. Dick's only fault is his over-competence - lightning is the shine (but I've been working on the thunder)

Favorite! Dick's name comes out of the Hogwart's cup. This changes everything and nothing - heavy is the crown

The batkids are unhinged. Poor jason - The AU noone asked for

Dick falls. And so does everyone else (iloveyourwords' fic) - icarus

FAVORITE!! Dick, Jason, Damian undercover on a cruise. Everything goes wrong - Like those foreign stars

YJ where Dick joins Deathstroke and Bruce breaks inside - Fallen son

Favorite! ALL of miss_aphelion's works - miss_aphelion

Here's a starter for miss_aphelion's works - Dick of Troy

Dick and Bruce in the eyes of the JL - Boy on the couch

Favorite! Dick is stuck in his dreamworld and his family just want him back - Happy little bluebirds fly beyond the rainbow

Hunger Games Au! Dick volunteers as a tribute - To get a dream of life again

Dick and Bruce and Dick's graceful manipulation of people - Some men fall from grace. Some are pushed

Dick takes time away from Bruce and finds himself again - Local oldest child takes time away from family

FAVORITE!! One of ScarlettSwordMoon's works - shipping rivalries

FAVORITE!! Dick reveals his trauma through singing - A robin's song

FAVORITE!! Dick's personality gets split in three - Three is a party

Dick runs away to Bludhaven but the batfamily won't let things rest - What stalks in my shadows

FAVORITE!! The batfamily is stuck in a timeloop where they can't save Dick - One thousand, Three hundred, and Nine Hours

Tim being a cute menace and feral Dick - little menace

FAVORITE!! Damian has a few choice words to say about Bruce's treatment of Dick - The threat

Slade saves Dick from the Court of Owls and Rose's view of him - Quiet now, you're going to wake the beast

FAVORITE!! Bruce is gone and Dick is seeing ghosts. The batfamily just wants to protect him - The haunting of Wayne house

FAVORITE!! Deaged Dick and Damian collection - you've always loved the strange birds

Dick's been deaged wakes up in a world with 5 robins no thanks to Slade - persephone's in hell

FAVORITE!! The batfamily's in a time loop trying to save Dick - rewind, remix, retry, redo

Funny fics I'm in love with!

Hilarious and all-around fun - Batbros Wreck Havoc

Favorite! ALL of pupeez4eva's fics but here's a starter for fun - That Torturous Thing Known as Time Travel

More fun fic (can you tell I like the humorous ones?) - A Bunch of Ridiculousness

Don't mess with Dick from Jason's perspective. Jason, Dick, and Bruce - Dig Down Deep

Accurate fic about batfamily's reaction to Dick dating Joey - Families Ever Changing

AU: Justice League meeting Nightwing focusing on Dick, Bruce, and Barry - Starry eyed

(Sorry had to slip another one in) JL's reaction to Dick - Your call may be interrupted

The batfamily will not let anyone take cover pictures of Dick - The annual Bludhaven firefighter's calander for charity

Another JLA story. Dick was a wild child nightmare robin - Adventures in batsitting

#dick grayson #nightwing #bruce wayne #batman #tim drake #red robin #damian wayne #robin #jason todd #red hood #john constantine #justice league #dick grayson fanfiction #fanfiction recommendation #thanks for the ask!#cl anon asks

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familyagrestefanblog · 6 months

Text

You know, the moment where Emonette wipes away some of Badrien's make up, revealing the same black vains she has hidden away underneath her scarf and then after she tries making a wish they reach her face

That actually has some massive implications the narrative just glosses over, huh?

Emonette only looked like this AFTER she tried making the wish but the black vains already reach far into Adrien's face BEFORE that.

And the thing is, we don't even see ALL of Adrien's face underneath the make up. Just this little part.

The black vains could be all over his face and neck by now and we wouldn't know because the scene literally shows us that he's wearing very good make up covering it up. Something Marinette didn't saw the need of doing before bc it wasn't bad enough yet to go to these measures. In her case a scarf was enough.

Something that for Adrien apparently stopped being an option for quite some time before the special even started. That sure explains why Griffe Noire took the cataclysm like a champ, his body was already much more damaged than Toxinelle's and he got alarmingly used to the pain.

*sigh*

I really hate being a bitch about this because Marinette's shot here is simply beautiful and such a heartbreaking piece of story-telling. I hate that the show can't let me enjoy something like this for Marinette anymore. Man, I REALLY love that shot of hers...

But for the love of God, Miraculous. If you want to give Marinette the special treatment with the striking visuals that show how bad she's got it, PLEASE just write it accordingly.

Why are you here, giving Marinette this extremely striking visual alongside the message of "it's just a little broken, we can fix it again" after the unique event of her having tried making the wish and then only letting Toxinelle openly run around with all her black vains visible?

You just admitted in the same damn scene that Adrien has long started wearing make up to cover up his own damage marks and from what little we can see his marks at least reach as far as hers. Not to mention that Marinette looked like this after she tried making the wish, the special SHOWS that this created a big leap in how big her damage got.

Adrien already long reached that level only through using his powers. That was equivalent to her getting punished for releasing the wish-making energy.

Miraculous, why are you out here visually manipulating the viewers into thinking Emonette/ Toxinelle had it "so much worse" again than Badrien / Griffe Noire, when what you actually did was cowardly hiding Adrien's damage marks underneath make up so Marinette can get the cool and deep shots?

I'm not against Marinette getting these cinematic and striking visuals, she's the main character, I KNOW.

But would it hurt you to then actually write the story accordingly? If you want her to be the one who has it worse here then actually write it being HER who has it clear-cut worse and don't just hide away Adrien's damage and seriously implied to be bigger problems AGAIN so Marinette can get the spotlight instead.

Why is this ALWAYS happening? JUST WRITE IT, DAMN IT!

#ml spoilers #miraculous ladybug #miraculous #adrien agreste #marinette dupain chang #griffe noire #Toxinelle #This show is wrecking my nerves with cowardly stuff like this #Who's holding the gun on your head forcing you into writing scenarios where Adrien seemingly has it worse but it always needs to be hidden #So Marinette can get the spotlight?#If you want the viewers to perceive her case as so much worse #Then why aren't you writing it like that from the get go??#I loved that shot of hers so much f you...#sigh

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sapphicvqmpires · 8 months

Text

❁ཻུ۪۪♡ wouldn’t change a thing

Pairing - sub!shuri x dom black fem!reader

Word Count - 6.8k

Contains - smut (18+), sub!shuri, dom!reader, fingering, masturbation, voyeurism, overstimulation, edging, strap-on, choking/breathplay, brat!shuri, jealous!shuri, kinda possessive!shuri, brat tamer!reader, shuri rolls tf outta her eyes in this one cuz she got a little attitude

Divider From - @firefly-graphics

Sneak Peak - “Do me a favor and go sit on the edge of the desk for me, yeah?” And she complied, for it was in instances like these that her royal title, her professional achievements, and her intellectual brains held no significance. In these moments, it didn’t matter who she was to the country of Wakanda, that they looked up to her, relied on her, and even bowed to her, it all faded away; she consistently yielded to your dominance.

Tags - @inmyheadimobsessed @amplifiedmoan @vampzxi @abenomeiiii @heejayy @shurislover @shurismainbxtch @shuriszn @naomis-daydream @prettymrswright @pocketsizedpanther @gardenof-venus @tiii-iiiiii @verachii @ihearttish @playhousedistee @somethingcleaverandwhitty @niyahwrites @tishsrealwife @oceean @sookiesookie @myaraines @cafehyunji @6-noir @ventingfanfics @ririslove @marsology @imjusthere2readbruv @desswright29 @mqiswrld @ooglyboooglybitxh @sweetalittleselfish-honey (comment if you want to be added, 18+ only)

Writers Note: Special shoutout to @inmyheadimobsessed and thank you for being real patient, I know you wanted this bad! I really enjoyed writing this one, it’s just pure smut for all you filthy people (just like me!), but anyways, hope you all enjoy this read!

❁ཻུ۪۪♡ Another day unfolded at the lab; another day filled with complex equations that your mind effortlessly processed. It was a typical lab scene in Wakanda, where the brightest minds convened to work on various projects. Amidst the hectic environment, your girlfriend, who happened to be the most brilliant of them all, shot disapproving looks at you from across the lab. You were busy assisting someone else, another girl, helping her with difficult equations only you and Shuri had the brains to solve in a minimal amount of time. Despite the girl's subtle attempts at flirting, you provided her with the help she needed, choosing to overlook her flirtatious mannerisms. But Shuri, she was angry; seething in jealousy as she watched the way you fessed up to the needy girl beside you.

For another fleeting moment, your eyes met Shuri's, but she averted her gaze quickly, causing your stomach to churn with unease. You were well aware that as soon as the door to your bedroom closed, you'd have to brace yourself for her inevitable whines and complaints that would leave her lips and slip through her body language.

As the sun began to set and the lab gradually emptied, you made your way back to your room. Finding your bedroom unoccupied wasn't surprising, given that Shuri typically lingered in the lab until late hours. And so you proceeded with your night, changing into a more relaxed attire and prepared a snack while anticipating Shuri's eventual exit from the lab to join you, readying yourself for her likely complaints. The minutes ticked by, until finally, your girlfriend entered through the doorway.

“Hey,” you muttered, but she completely ignored you, making her way to the bathroom for her daily shower. You were utterly astonished, taken aback by the extent to which she was willing to make her point and you were growing frustrated and impatient.

After what felt like an eternity, Shuri eventually came out. Her curls retained its dampness from her shower, and your gaze traced the tattoo situated behind her left ear, which extended down to her hand. The sight of your girlfriend made your stomach flutter. She was always ridiculously sexy and the thought of having your way with her at this very moment was enticing, yet Shuri had alternative plans. She takes her place beside you on the bed, continuing her performance of silence as she proceeds to ignore you and your most obvious frustrated presence.

“You gonna tell me what’s going on with the attitude?,” you spat with a harsh tone, breaking the silence that hovered between you two.

“What attitude?,” Shuri replies, eyes still nowhere on yours. You let out a hefty sigh, one that was accompanied by an aggressive eye roll.

“You know, you’re really starting to piss me off,” you mention.

“Ditto.”

By this point, your patience with her and her demeanor had worn thin. You seize her jaw, possibly with an aggression that you hadn’t initially intended, forcing her gaze to meet yours as you were teetering on the edge of reaching a breaking point.

It’s not that you weren’t aware of why she was upset, you knew why. But you didn’t believe your actions deserved this type of behavior from Shuri.

“Shuri, baby, talk to me or don’t start.” You let go of her jaw, an act of permission to get her to speak. Shuri rolls her eyes in response, a sly smirk subtly peeking through her lips as you move your hands to firmly grab her throat.

“Baby…” A word of warning as you pressed down a bit further. Shuri bit her bottom lip, her face softening as she willingly brought her gaze to yours for the first time tonight. You let go of her throat, getting lost in the way it bobbed once she swallowed.

“You know why I’m upset, nkoszana, so I’m not even sure why you’re making me say it.”

“Because I was simply doing my job, and you’re getting upset Shuri, like what is it you want me to do?”

“I don’t care. I don’t like her. She clearly has a thing for you and you’re just kissing up to her obvious flirtations.”

“Shuri, I’m not doing anything but my job. She asks for help, and I give it to her in a polite manner. Whatever other motives she has is none of my business and I don’t give a fuck, I really don’t. But I have to do what I’m required to do, right? You’re the boss, so you tell me.” Your tone was clipped and straight to the point.

“Whatever. I don’t care.”

“No, you clearly do care, so tell me what I should do, princess.”

“Do what you want.”

Once more, you let out a forceful eye-roll, your frustration evident as you massage your temples in an attempt to ease your upcoming headache. Dealing with your girlfriend's constant complaints was nothing new; you were aware of her challenging nature even before you entered into the relationship but your determination to set things straight was one of the numerous reasons that made you her perfect counterpart. You had every intention of properly dealing with her attitude, but tonight, you decided to grant her a head start….but just for tonight.

You turned over in the bed, shifting your body to fully face her as you grasped her face once more, this time with ease as you spoke your gentle words.

“Look, my love, I’m sorry. Ok? I’m so sorry,” you cooed as you began caressing her chiseled features.

“Forgive me?,” you asked with doe eyes as Shuri shifted her body to meet yours. You quickly pecked a kiss on her lips, forcing a smile to creep through her.

“There’s my girl,” you muttered lovingly, as she softened her attitude with yours. Shuri grabbed your body and wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into her chest as she placed a kiss on the top of your head.

“I’m sorry, I just don’t like seeing people trying to take what’s mine,” she whispered into you.

“I’m always going to be yours, Shuri, and you know that.”

“I know…but does she know that?”

“Forget about her, baby. Just let me fall asleep in your arms tonight, yeah?” You move your face from her chest to meet her sleepy eyes, raising your head to gently kiss her button nose. Shuri's face brightens with a smile, and she playfully wrinkles her nose, breaking into a gentle laughter as you embrace each other once again. The two of you drift off into slumber, finding a peaceful interlude before the inevitable storm.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The following morning unfolds with ease, your time in the lab offering a less hectic state as your previous days have, but this was short-lived as you spot the familiar figure of the girl approaching you once again for assistance. A deep sigh escapes your lips, not directed at her, but rather because you knew what would happen as a result of it.

Beyond her annoying flirtations, you do understand why she came to you for help. You were one of Shuri’s best lab assistants and it was no secret that Shuri was not keen on the other girl, therefore she came to you.

Shuri's piercing gaze was far from discrete, juggling her attention between attending her tasks while also casting a vigilant look your way, a stare brimming with unmistakable jealousy. She observed every action, ensuring you stayed well within the boundaries she had set, and you were more than aware. The intensity of her glares grew distracting, making it difficult to attend to your duties and so you had to cut it short.

“Hey, I’m sorry but I got to take care of something real quick. I’ll be right back.”

As you approach Shuri, her gaze drops, redirecting her focus to her task while she inhales deeply. Your face clearly displays frustration as you bend your knees to align with her seated form.

“You’re being a brat,” you whispered, keeping an eye out for any nosey lab assistants.

“I don’t give a shit,” she spat back instantly.

“Shuri…” Your tone was a warning, but Shuri persisted in keeping up her facade, rolling her eyes with a subtle smirk and that act alone pushed you to your breaking point. You seized her wrist, leading her into her vacant office space. You lock the door and push her into the office chair. Leaning forward, you positioned yourself to meet her eyes, intentionally highlighting your lifted cleavage and Shuri’s gaze was anything but subtle.

“You, my love, are really starting to piss me off and get on my nerves,” you said, lightly grasping her jaw.

“I do not care. She’s obviously into you and I don’t like it.”

“So what you gonna do Shuri? Fire her and put that poor girl out of a job cuz you don’t like her??”

“Sounds enticing…”

“Shuri!”

“What?? I don’t see why she only goes to you anyway. I’m the smartest in the lab, she could come to me for help if she really needs it.”

“Now you know damn well why she won’t go to you, giving her the nastiest looks and all.”

Another eye roll manages to escape her, crossing her arms as she sits manspread in the chair in front of you. You've reached your limit with her bratty behavior, allowing her to hold the upper hand for long enough. Now, it's your moment to employ what you do best. You squat down, meeting her seated eye level, grasping her face between your thumb and middle finger as you exert a pressure that makes her flinch in response.

“You are reealllyy starting to piss me off, baby.” Your voice turned into a low, husky murmur, a sound that caused Shuri's pussy to pulse beneath your firm grip, a fact you were well aware of. You had an eye for detecting when she began to soak her boxers, the subtle gentleness in her eyes and the accelerated rhythm of her breath never escaped your notice.

“Do me a favor and go sit on the edge of the desk for me, yeah?”

And she complied, for it was in instances like these that her royal title, her professional achievements, and her intellectual brains held no significance. In these moments, it didn’t matter who she was to the country of Wakanda, that they looked up to her, relied on her, and even bowed to her, it all faded away; she consistently yielded to your dominance.

“You know baby, I’m starting to think this little attitude is simply because you want something from me,” you cooed seductively, playing with the waistband of her baggy shorts and she gulped beneath your touch. She would consistently attempt to maintain the illusion of holding the upper hand when dealing with you, a charade that only Wakanda believed. However, once the doors were closed, she would abandon her strength, discard the influence of the heart-shaped herb, and surrender complete control of her body to you.

You ease your hold on her face, letting your hand slide along her throat until you arrive at its base, where you apply a subtle pressure, eliciting a soft gasp from her, a sound that sends a pulsating sensation through your own pussy. As your grip tightens, she draws her final breath, savoring the dominance you exert as you deny her the ability to inhale.

“Nod if you’re ok.” And she does, frantically clutching your wrist as she intensely longs for more. You briefly release your hold on her throat to remove her baggy shirt and sports bra, and she helps you with equal excitement, both of you impatient to indulge in each other. You unbutton her baggy shorts and eagerly slip your hands beneath them, encountering the outcome of your actions through the mess between her legs. Her reaction is visceral; her mouth opens in astonishment as you circle her clit through the fabric, and she wastes no time pressing into you, seeking more friction.

“You’re so needy, you know that? A fucking brat, for real.”

“I…”

“You what? Wanna be punished baby? Is that what this is all about? Just wanna be fucked good, huh?”

“Mhmm,” she moaned with a nod, biting on her bottom lip but it wasn't enough for you. What you craved was the sound of the voice, the quivering words that attempted to escape her; observing how she struggled to string together coherent sentences while you toyed with the heat between her legs. Your other hand sought her throat once more, a location it favored when it wasn’t occupied in her snug cunt. You applied just enough pressure to milk a strangled gasp and she knew exactly what it was you needed from her.

“Y-yes,” she responded, but you still weren’t pleased and so you pressed firmer into her windpipe.

“Sentences, Shuri. You know I don’t do that weak shit.”

“Yes, y/n. I-I w-want you to p-punish…me. P-put me in my place,” she struggled to say amidst her airflow being restricted and your hand down her pants, but she smiled her way through it, her smile fading into a breathless moan as you slip your hand into her boxers and come head on with her saturated pussy. Her slick was audible and sticky, clinging to your fingers as you pranced through her plush folds, purposefully toying with her clit to drive her insane.

“Y-y/n…please…please?”

“Ssshhh, my pretty girl, I’m getting there.”

“Unh.”

You grabbed her chin and forced her gaze on yours. Her eyes were so desperate, so sleepy and she shut them completely when you finally sunk them into her without warning.

“Oh, shit…y/n, baby.”

Your fingers were well equipped with Shuri’s pussy, familiar with the walls that paved the way to the spot that always led your beautiful girl to her sweet bliss. It didn’t take long before your pace quickened, your fingers soaking in everything Shuri’s wet pussy had to give you. Her walls hugged your fingers, weeping around them as you plunged into her g-spot.

“Bast…ewe...ewe! Nceda ungayeki…” (Bast…yes….yes! Please don’t stop…). Per usual, Shuri’s body became needy, her hips bucking forward to meet your thrusts, her breasts bouncing frantically and the sight of her body being so overwhelmed by you made you wet.

“Look at you Shuri…so fucking needy, yeah?”

“Mhmm. Yeah.”

“Such a brat, you’re frustrating as hell. I can feel you squeezing my fingers real good already…you gonna cum soon?”

“Yes, y/n! Y-yes…I-I’m gonna cum,” she whimpered, her pussy walls clamping down further and further with each thrust you gave her.

“You think you deserve it?”

“Ye-yeah.”

“Oh? You sure?”

“Mhmm, yes y/n…I deserve it, just…fuck.”

You released your fingers from her cunt, tapping her lips as a signal for her to open wide and taste herself and she obliged.

“Mmmm,” she moaned at her own flavor as you swooshed your fingers through her mouth, hitting the back of her throat to make her gag just once and you chuckled at the tears that began to brim on the outer corners of her tired eyes. And instantly your hands are back into her aching cunt, milking her as her whole body trembles beneath your touch.

“I’m gonna ask you one more time…do you deserve it?”

“Ye-”

You cut her off mid-answer with your palm slapping her drenched pussy lips, a whimper falling off Shuri’s tongue at the gesture.

“Answer me, princess. Properly this time.”

“N-no…I don’t deserve it.”

“What don’t you deserve?”

“To cum. I do-don’t deserve to c-cum.” A pout formed on her face and you responded with your own pout, mocking her with a fake frown.

“Poor baby,” you taunted.

“Y/n…pleeassee. I’ll be good. I’ll d-do better, just…unh…please let me cum for you.”

And you so badly want to give into her, fulfill her bodies desires and make her soak your whole hand but you were in control, carrying the power over her approaching orgasm and so you ripped your fingers from her tight pussy as she was on the brink of releasing, a full pout forming on her face as the knot in her stomach remained there.

“Wha--why? Nkosazna, please.”

You gave her no answer, but wrapped your lips around your fingers, savoring the intimate taste of your girlfriend as your gaze connected with hers.

“Do you know why I didn’t let your pretty pussy cum, baby?”

But Shuri says nothing, angrily rolling her eyes as she tries to regain an ounce of dominance; also secretly hoping you may continue “punishing her.” She attempts to push her way around you but you would not allow it. You pushed her chest, forcing her to sit back onto the desk. You clutched her jaw, almost painfully this time, a reminder of her place.

“I’m not gonna ask again.”

“Because I was being needy.”

“Mhmm…and?”

“And jealous.”

“What else?”

“And a brat.”

“Yes you were, my perfect girl.” You let go, gently caressing her face before you pull her lips into yours. She moans into the kiss, her flavor still lingering on your lips and you both feel like you could stay there forever.

“I love you,” she breathed into you, not wanting to let you go.

“I love you more,” you replied, finally breaking the kiss.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The rest of the day goes by fairly well. Shuri works diligently at her desk, putting on her best behavior but you notice her slip up every now and then, subtly rolling her eyes at you because what is your beautiful girlfriend if not a spoiled brat?

As the evening draws near, you make your way to your room. As before, you're met with an empty bedroom until the sound of running water reaches your ears from behind the closed bathroom door. You get comfortable, waiting for her to emerge. And just like that, she appears once again, exuding an even greater sex appeal than before, dressed in a pair of gray sweats and a wifebeater. The waistband of her boxers peaks above her sweats, and a dainty set of gold chains adorns her neck, as if she needed the accessories to be any more attractive. She looks stunning, and you find yourself wanting to give her everything she didn’t deserve, a desire to untangle her until she’s your good girl again.

Shuri didn’t notice your presence until your voice broke the silence, casually startling her in your tracks.

“Bast, baby, you’re killing me,” you said, and you most definitely meant it. “Come sit here,” you gestured to her to come on your lap. For the gazillionth time, Shuri playfully rolled her eyes, smirking as she made her way to straddle you.

“You and this damn attitude…what I gotta do to take it out of you, hm?” You pull her in for a kiss, both of you needy with your grip and movements as she softly moans into your lips, causing you to smile against her.

“What is it you want, Shuri?,” you asked, your voice was low, your gaze even lower, admiring the way her nipples pierced through the fabric of her shirt.

“I want you to finish what you started,” she replied, her plea soaked in impatience.

“Hmmm? Attitude too damn loud, I can’t hear you over it.”

She sighs heavily before proceeding to speak. “You know what I want and if you won’t give it to me then I swear to Bast, y/n, I’ll just touch mys--”

But you cut her off as you swiftly raise a finger to hush her parted lips. Her immediate compliance sets a promising tone for the evening ahead, aligning perfectly with the intentions you had planned for her. You taunt her, daring her to finish her sentence, yet she refrains, her face contorting into profound yearning for your touch alone. Drawing her closer, your lips meet hers once again and she whimpers into your mouth and that sound in itself almost forces you to give in to her, to succumb to everything she wants without a fight on her end. Almost.

“You know that thing you said you’d do? Yeah, I’m gonna need you to do it.”

“W-what?”

“Imma need you to play with yourself. Make yourself cum at the pace I allow, my girl,” you softly command, caressing her cheek as you watch the way her face falls into your touch.

“I wanted you to do it,” she pouts, but you raise your eyebrow in question, challenging to see what’d she do but it shuts her right up instead. Good girl.

“Ok but…I need you to do something for me while I’m touching myself…please?”

“Hm? And what would that be?”

“I want you to choke me. You know how I like it, sthandwa.”

"Absolutely, I do," you respond, drawing her in for a final kiss before you begin to remove her clothing and undergarments soon after, leaving her in nothing but her dainty gold chains that have been driving you crazy. You orient yourselves just as you would if it were your own fingers about to sink into her cunt, your legs spread apart as she nestled between them, her back fitting snugly against your chest. Shuri mimics you, spreading her own legs as you set your gaze on her juicy, undeniably tempting pussy that catches the light in the mirror positioned before you. It was one of your favorite things about her; the deep, plump lips fixated between her thighs was nothing short of art to you.

You grasped her hand gently, guiding two of her fingers into the basin of your mouth, generously coating them in your own saliva. You hummed softly around her tattooed digits just before she trailed them down to her most sensitive area.

“Play with your clit, baby. Don’t go inside just yet,” you guided and she obeyed, nodding her head as her mouth opened the instant her fingers found her clump of sensitive nerves. Your girlfriend was easily influenced when it came to her pussy, making it a brief process for her whimpers to grow into mellow cries. With each push she placed onto her clit, her legs trembled, patiently awaiting your orders.

“Keep it going…don’t stop until I tell you.”

“Choke me,” she said, her plea coming out more demanding than begging. “Choke me, please.” There was the beg.

You take hold of her face, redirecting it towards you, granting her a final kiss before your hand glides down to her neck. A gasp escaped her lips in response to the sensation but her fingers did not halt, her juices becoming louder as she swished her clit.

“You look so beautiful like this Shuri…fuck.”

You applied a gentle pressure to her neck, your palm following the curves of her trachea and you sensed her throat shifting with every forceful swallow she took.

“Harder,” she softly begged, and you do, pressing further into her.

“Harder, y/n, harder. Choke me.”

“Damn, baby, you’re so nasty,” you teased, obeying her desperate plea. Gently, she begins to choke; her moans, soft gasps, and wet pussy become the sole sounds that reach your ears, forming a sinful melody. You lift your gaze to the reflection ahead, entranced with the sight, although Shuri's expression doesn't quite match the moment. She removes herself from your hold, turning her body around to face you before she begins to remove your leather belt.

“Shuri, what…what are you doing?”

“Shut up,” she says quickly, taking you by surprise.

“Hey…hey, this isn’t about me Shuri. This is about you, I don’t need-”

“Ssshhhh,” she says, cutting you off by colliding her lips into yours as she proceeds to remove your belt. Once it’s off, you understand her intentions as she wraps the leather around her neck like you would your waist, slinking it down until it’s firmly hugging her throat. “Choke. Me.”

While her request startles you initially, you eventually give in, pulling at the leather as Shuri proceeds to play with her clit. A second tug follows, leading to the sound and sight you've been longing for. The hoarse gasps that come from the depths of her throat, mingling with her escalating moans, a blended sound that made your pussy throb.

“Oh-ok…y-yes y/n. I-I’m gonna…I’m s-so c-close,” she struggled to say with the material that compressed her windpipe.

“Do what I love, princess. Choke for me,” you demanded and she knew exactly what you meant. Shuri stuck her tongue out with a playful grin, her eyes connected with yours in the mirror's reflection. The jolt in her clit gradually intensified as her walls became tighter and tighter. It was one of the sexiest things to you, watching her tongue stick as she left you in charge of her oxygen intake; drool pouring off the tip of her tongue as she choked and circled her clit in unison, making your drenched pussy clench around nothing but air, your clit aching for a sense of relief but they would have to wait.

“Nod if you’re ok, baby,” you say, pressing harsh kisses into the side of her neck. Shuri nods.

“F-fuck…y/n…I-mhmm.”

“Just tell me to stop if you need me to, ok?” She nods again. You pull a bit tighter, earning another choked response from her.

“O-okay.”

“You’re doing so well for me, just keep doing that. Keep rubbing yourself just like that.”

“Unh.”

She was so beautiful like this, whining beneath her own touch as she left her breathing to your reign and even though she had full power to stop the assault on her clit whenever she pleases, she knew not to without your direction and it made you desire her that much more. Shuri’s clit grew enlarged, her pussy lips puffed out as her drool oozed down the valley between her breasts. Your pussy ached for her, wanting to give her everything she did and didn’t deserve.

“Y/n…I…I-”

“Cum, baby. Give it to yourself.” And she did, letting go at that very moment while her staggered, breathless moans echoed through the room. You slapped her hand, creating space for your own fingers to rub her through the aftermath, tugging the belt hard into her windpipe, momentarily cutting off all her airflow and the act intensified her climax; it was the most elated feeling for Shuri.

“Y/n…unh,” she struggled to say. Her clit jolted under your touch, her cream pooling out of her thumping cunt as she collapsed into you. You removed the belt, allowing Shuri to consume oxygen once more and she coughed in delight, absolutely pleased with her orgasm but you were nowhere near done with her. She got what she begged for and now it was your turn.

You dipped your fingers into her, pumping a few times and she jerked from your touch, still throbbing from her orgasm, though her pussy seemed excited with the way she immediately clenched around you at the contact.

“Bast…y/n…p-please…shit.”

You played with her pussy for a few moments longer, gliding your fingers through her dewy folds and she flinched every time you teased her clit. Her chest grew heavy, making it harder for her to breathe as you tantalized her through her slow, descending climax. You place your fingers on her neck, beginning to caress the tender skin and she winces.

“Are you ok?,” you ask, with genuine concern. Shuri nods along with a small laughter.

You lay her down on her back, beginning to kiss her throat with love as you caress her sore skin with your gentle lips. A soft hiss escapes her as your lips make contact, the tenderness a contrast to the pressure she endured earlier, the pressure she begged for. You bring your lips to hers, kissing her as your hands trail down her body, stopping at her clit and she moans instantly into your mouth. You smirk against her. Her sensitivity made you feral.

You press soft circles into her beating bud, caressing her just enough to drive her insane. Her folds were so plush, sopping wet with her arousal.

“Y-y/n…I need…shit, unh…”

“What do you need, princess?”

“I want y-you in…inside.”

“Hmm? I can’t hear you baby.” Your taunting gaze met her desperate one, sliding your fingers until they met her entrance. You didn't dip inside just yet, though you wanted to, but instead pressed firm circles against her entrance as you watched the way her mouth dropped open and her eyebrows furrowed together in pleasure. The sight of her made your already soaking panties even more wet.

“Please y/n, just fuck me alreadyyy.”

“Look at you…so fucking needy. You want me to fuck you with my fingers so bad, yeah? Is that what you want?”

She nods so quickly and the gesture makes you smile. She is completely under your reign. She begins bucking her hips, desperately wanting your fingers to meet the depth of her clenching cunt and although you aren’t buried inside her, you feel her on the surface of her entrance; the way her pussy craves you, needs you to fill her up and make her whole. She closes her eyes, her head slightly tilting backward, but you seize her chin and direct her to face you before her head can fully lean back. For a brief moment, you maintain this posture, locking eyes with her longing gaze while teasing her. Her puffy clit collides with your palm with each buck against you and you allow it.

“Please y/n…I ne-need you. Please.”

“Where baby, where?” You were being mean.

“Inside, y/n. Unh.”

“Do you know why I’m doing this?”

She smirked, struggling to bring back her bratty side as you teased her hole.

“Be-because…”

“Because why, baby?”

“Because I was being a brat.”

“Yeah that’s right…what else?”

“Unh…I was be-being too ne-eedy and jea-lous.”

“Mhmmm.”

“Inside?”

You chuckled. “MY beautiful bratty girl. Always so needy for me.” You press your lips against her cheek, tilting your head into the curve of her shoulder as you dip your fingers inside her and you're greeted by the most seductive, sinful sound of love and lust that emanates from Shuri's mouth, ringing directly into your ear.

“Yeah…YEAH…oh fuck, y/n.”

Even though you can’t see her face, you just know her mouth is hung open, her eyelashes clinging together in ecstasy as you suck the skin on her sore neck.

“I wouldn’t want you any other way,” you assure, fucking your needy girl with precision. You raise your head a bit, aligning her lips with your ear, eager to catch her filthy moans. You return to meet her gaze, greeted by her perky breasts bouncing in unison with your rhythmic thrusts and her creamy pussy draws you in, captivated by her glossy slick that paints your fingers. But it's her eyes, those defenseless eyes that convey all the essential messages of the pleasure that was coursing through her.

“Yes, my angel…keep making that helpless face while you’re fucking down on my fingers.”

“Mmm..unh.”

“You’re so beautiful Shuri…the prettiest girl ever.”

“Y-y/n.”

You bring her in for a slobbery kiss, swallowing her moans as the squishy sounds down below get stickier.

“I love you, y/n…I…fuck.”

“I love you too, baby. Cum for me. Do it.”

And so she does, her hands fluttering to either side of your face while her unwavering gaze stays fixed on you. Tears gather at the edges of her stunning eyes as her cunt oozes in pure bliss.

“Yeah, y/n…unh…BAST.” She completely stops rocking against you but you don’t stop thrusting into her, causing her whole body to tremble.

“Y/n.. sthandwa…please stop.”

“Hm, baby? I didn’t quite catch that.”

“I want you…unh…”

“I can’t hear you my love, speak up.”

“Stop, please…stop.” She’s trembling, her voice shaking, but you knew her body, you knew it all too well. Protest might’ve been falling off her lips, but the grip her pussy contained on your fingers told you otherwise. You brought your thumb up, pressing the pad of it into her clit and she squirmed at the pressure, her pathetic tears continuing to swell in the corner of her eyes.

“Tell me one more time baby. Tell me you want me to stop and I’ll stop.”

But your perfect girl said nothing, nothing but the sound of whimpers came out of her swollen mouth. A faint smile broke through lips but swiftly vanished, replaced by her face that felt nothing but pleasure.

“That’s what I thought.”

“Bast…mmm.” Her sobs were pretty, her helpless state being one of your favorite looks on her.

“You think I can’t tell when your pussy’s had enough baby? She still wants me so badly, squeezing the fuck out of my fingers…so needy for me.”

She was a mess, becoming entranced by your words and cocky grin. She moaned without any concern for passersby because she did not care who could hear Wakanda’s protector submitting to your authority.

“You’re gonna give me another one,” you say, and she almost protests but she knows better. She doesn’t want you to stop anyway.

“You’re gonna cum around my dick this time, you think you can do that for me princess?”

“Mhmm.”

“Of course you can,” you say with a grin. Shuri helps you strip down, observing the way your wet slick adheres to the fabric of your thong as you glide them down your legs, creating a sticky string with your arousal. Your skin was so beautiful to her, its profound richness harmonizing with the textured curls that sat on your head. She admires your stretch marks that lead the way to your thick thighs and plush ass, the hues of brown in your inner thighs deepening the closer the skin got to your pussy. Bast, she was in love with you.

Shuri also helps you strap the vibranium toy to your hips, her most perfect invention that allowed you to feel her perfect pussy each and every time it sank into her. You lie on your back, motioning her to come on top of you and she obeys.

“Ride me, baby. Fuck yourself onto me until you cum around my dick.”

Shuri situated herself on top of you, firmly gripping the dildo before gently pushing it into herself and you both moaned in unison. It's a sensation that never loses its hold on you, the feeling of being inside her resonates, her pussy wrapping around your dick with her willful clench. Her pussy lips opened up for you, effortlessly gliding alongside the dildo and it was amazing to watch.

“Y/n! Oh yes…right there, nkoszana, right there…I..yeah.”

Her words mold unto putty as you consistently strike the nerves inside her, that tender spot that has her chasing both your orgasms. She dips her head back, pinching her erect nipples as her dark complexion glimmers with sweat. She appears heavenly on top of you, like she was floating, and the picture of her nudges you closer to your own pleasure.

“Look at you…you’re so fucking beautiful…sexy as fucking hell…god.”

“I…UNH…ooooo fuuuckkk.”

“You’re gonna cum aren’t you?”

“Yeah…I…I…”

“Don’t you dare s-stop fucking y-yourself. Don’t, Shuri…fuck.”

“Y/n…I-I can’t. I’m gonna c-cum.”

Her breasts bounce with each thrust she pounded onto you, her pussy milking your dick and you could feel your orgasm crying to be released. You grip her hips harshly, fucking her down onto your dick and she wails in pleasure, her eyes rolling back as her jaw drops. She takes one of her hands off her nipple, bringing it down to rub her clit and you swear you could cum right there. She was fucking amazing.

“You’re such a fucking whore, baby, huh? Wanna cum that bad?”

“UNH!”

“Yeah, keep crying like th-that. K-keep squeezing my shit like that.”

“Y/N!”

It took about five more slams and Shuri released once more, an explosive squirt that coated your abdomen and trickled down her thighs. But you didn’t stop fucking her, so close to your own high and she let you chase it.

“Fuck, baby…k-keep f-fucking yourself like that. Use my pussy, y/n, c-cum in me…mmmm…ugnh.”

“Yeah, princess…I’m s-so close just…fuck, shit!”

Shuri fucked herself onto you, ignoring the fact that her pussy was aching to the point of slight pain but she wanted to make you cum, watch her girl that she needed so much to unravel before her.

“Sh-Shuri?”

“Cum, y/n…pl-please? I want you to c-cum inside me.”

The both of you were blubbering messes, minds unfolding into mush as your vision became hazy. Her pussy squeezed you so good, caressing you just right and you spilled right into her.

“Oh fuck, Shuri…FUCK…I’m cumming baby, I’m cumming…shit.”

“I know…I know.”

“Ooooo fuck…GOD. Your pussy is so good, always so g-good for me…UNH. K-keep squeezing me just l-like that…yeah.”

“You’re so beautiful, y/n. Cumming so hard inside me.”

“Only for you. Always for you.”

After moments, Shuri squirted one last time; an orgasm that caused her to falter beside you, both of your chests heaving up and down as you struggled to regain your composure.

“Fuck, Shuri.”

“I love you, y/n.”

“I know you do…my bratty girl. I love you too.”

You pull her in for one last kiss.

“My beautiful, bratty girl.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The next morning approached. You and Shuri were about to arrive late to the lab and it didn’t help that Shuri was, per usual, being difficult.

“Sthandwa, I don’t think the makeup is necessary,” she comments as you apply a generous amount of concealer to hide the bruises on her neck.

“Do you see yourself? Look,” you remark, pointing to the mirror where her marked up throat from both your passionate kisses and the impression of the leather belt reflects back at her. A sly grin appears on her face as she appreciates the reflection, tilting her head to gain a clearer view of the results of your actions.

“People are gonna think you’re dating a fucking psychopath,” you add as you continue covering up the bruises.

“Maybe it’s cuz I am dating a fucking psychopath,” Shuri responds, wincing when you press too hard, and you mockingly fake a frown.

“My poor baby.”

“Shut up.”

“Oooo…such harsh language,” you joke, and Shuri rolls her eyes before you both begin to laugh.

“Hurry up, y/n, I got work to do.”

“Be patient, I wanna make sure I cover you up good.”

Another chuckle escapes Shuri’s lips. “I don’t get how you do this makeup thing almost everyday. It’s exhausting just sitting here now.”

“Well I happen to like doing my own makeup, and cuz I can actually do it unlike your ass. Remember that time I got you to do my makeup??” You burst into laughter as Shuri glared you down in annoyance. “That crooked ass eyeliner you gave me! Oh! And what did you call mascara again?? Say it again!”

“Shut up, y/n.”

“Pleaaseee, baby, say it one last time and I’ll leave you alone,” you lie, biting your bottom lip as you try to contain your laughter.

Shuri sighs, rolling her eyes before she says it. “I called it an eyelash enhancer.”

You burst out into laughter and Shuri sits there unamused, trying to contain her own laughter at the sight of you laughing over something so small.

“You’re just too fucking cute. An eyelash enhancer?? PLEASE BABE.”

“Well I wasn’t entirely wrong.”

“No…you were definitely wrong.”

“I forgot what it was called, ok?”

“Hey, hey…don’t be like that baby, you know I’m just teasing you. You’re just too cute. Wait, hold still…I’m almooosttt…there! I’m done. How’s it look?,” you ask, redirecting her to the mirror.

“Mmmm…I think you missed a spot,” she jokes.

“Huh? Where? Hold up, lemme cover that shit.”

Shuri laughs, amused at your concern. “I’m just playing, nkoszana. You did a good job.”

You smile, bringing her in for a kiss. “Don’t ask me to use a fucking belt for a while, Shuri, I mean it.”

“Hmmmm…might have to give you a reason to use it again then, y/n.”

“Oh, you fucking nasty,” you playfully remark, slinging your arms around her neck and she flinches when you accidentally press her bruised skin. “Oh shit! Sorry!”

Shuri laughs. “It’s ok, sthandwa. I just love you.”

You cock your head to the side, biting your cheek as you fight to contain a cheeky grin but it’s no use. She draws you closer by your hips, causing your pelvis to brush against hers before she begins kissing you.

“Shuri…we’re late,” you say, as she begins trailing kisses down your neck.

“How about…let’s just not go?”

While the temptation was undoubtedly strong, now was not a suitable time. The lab needed you both.

“We gotta go, princess.”

A prolonged, annoyed whine escapes Shuri's lips before she releases you. "Fiiinnee," she draws with exaggeration and you can’t help but chuckle at her neediness.

“You’re so goddamn needy, baby.”

“Mhmm. And you said you wouldn’t have it any other way.”

And she was correct. You wouldn’t have it any other way. ❁ཻུ۪۪♡

And thank you so much for 700+ followers on here! Appreciate every single one of you that takes their time to read my work 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪

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mlmxreader · 2 years

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Quick Visit | Black Noir x gn!reader

Anonymous asked: May I request "Are you... goddamn, you cannot be jealous right now" with Black noir? Please and thank you?

summary: Noir's always had a possessive and jealous streak, it's just a shame that it comes out at times where it shouldn't.

tws: swearing, possessiveness, jealousy

Noir was no stranger to making it known that he was your boyfriend, as it wasn't rare for him to text you while you were at work, when he knew that other people would see the pictures he sent you of himself and the little text captions that went with them; he knew exactly what he was doing, and even though he often sent you various selfies while he was working so that he could check in on you, it was purposeful when he sent you certain pictures at work - ones of him topless with his mask still on, ones with rather raunchy captions. Just so that whoever saw would know that you were his.

But beneath his possessive tendencies, he was still sweet; if he got home first, he would do the cooking and the cleaning. He often brought you back little gifts when he could, he often brought back a fair few if he was gone for a while. Noir could be so sweet, but he was no stranger to jealousy.

So when you decided to visit him at Vought, and you were chatting to A Train, Noir couldn't help himself; he crept up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against him, resting his head on your shoulder as he glared at A Train through his mask. You felt bad for Reggie, the look of fear in his eyes when he realised that you were Noir's significant other, but when you tried to continue the conversation, he knew that he would be alright. No one wanted to mess with Noir, but when you were making no move to leave, they often got the message that it was safe.

But when A Train was called by someone else, and he politely excused himself and asked if he could text you later to carry on your little conversation, Noir coaxed you back into his room; in an instant, he had you pinned against the door, easily lifting your legs up and holding onto your thighs as he let you wrap them around his waist.

"Noir!" You moaned softly, your hands on his shoulders as you clenched your jaw. "Are you... goddamn you cannot be jealous right now."

Noir nodded, pressing into you a little more.

"Get your phone," you panted, moving his mask up so that his lips were visible.

He did as you asked, pulling out his phone and sending you a quick text, "mine. want 2 kiss you, now."

You looked at it, then nodded, closing the distance and letting him properly pin you against the door as he took control; it was open mouthed and all breath and moans and shudders, but you loved it when he was like that. When he got rough and possessive and jealous, you adored it; he was usually so soft and gentle and tender, you loved it when he snapped and decided that he had to show everyone that you were his, and only his, and when he let go of one of your thighs, moving his hand round so that he could grab your ass, you let out a loud moan.

"Noir," the word came out so hoarse and raw that it was almost hard to hear. "Noir, wait a second."

He pulled away immediately, gently letting your legs go as he kept his hand on your ass, daring to send another text. "I'm sorry."

You shook your head, cupping his face in your hands as you smiled at him, a quiet laugh coming from the back of your throat. "It's okay. I... I'll admit it's really fucking hot when you get jealous like that, but... I'd rather we waited until we got home."

He nodded, pressing his forehead to your shoulder and wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you as close as he could.

"I love you, too," you whispered, holding tightly onto him. "And, for the record? It's only because I don't want Homelander to walk in on us."

He laughed quietly, nodding. Nobody wanted that.

"I have the day free," you started, "and if you want, I could go down to that shop we like that does the iced coffees - if you're not busy we could chill out here?"

Noir pulled away only so that he could send you a text, "do you want the money?"

You shook your head, pulling down his mask again and pressing a kiss to his forehead, trying not to wince at how warm his helmet was. "My treat... same as always?"

Noir nodded. "Maybe get snacks?"

"Sure," you agreed with a grin. "How does fig rolls, dough balls and cheesy garlic bread sound?"

"Real nice," he texted back, "love you. stay safe."

"I'm always safe," you told him quietly. "Because I know I've got you looking out for me."

if you liked this fic, REBLOG IT - do not just leave a "like", REBLOG IT. you may also leave feedback in the form of asks, tags, etc which is greatly appreciated, but you SHOULD reblog it regardless.

#mlem writes #black noir x y/n #black noir one shot #black noir x reader #black noir imagine #black noir #the boys imagine #the boys fanfic #the boys #black noir the boys #the boys noir #the boys black noir

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hwaightme · 2 months

Text

Feel alive

(masterlist) (taglist)

🌑 pairing: strictland!seonghwa x gn!singer!reader 🌑 genre: fluff, angst, dystopian, sci-fi, noir, music, lovers to enemies to lovers 🌑 summary: after escaping the confines of prestige academy you find yourself singing at 'morpheus' - an underground bar and club for strictland outcasts. except this reality, too, crumbles before you. your fate is again in the hands of the same man, and you are forced to ask yourself: what does it mean to 'feel alive'? 🌑 wordcount: 9.5k total 🌑 warnings/tags: semi-edited, authoritarian regime (strictland/z/universe z), lore-inspired, guns/gunshots, implied attack on club, implied violence, crime, alcohol/drinking, implied organised criminal networks, discussions about death/murder/execution, nihilism/existentialism, 'bout as dark as the diary entries, long lost lovers, starcrossed, hope, blue bird, jazz, uprisings 🌑 taglist: at the bottom of the fic 🌑 a/n: noir hwa, ateez synthwave song quartet, and lore ponderings. hope you enjoyed <3 any notes, reblogs, comments, asks are always welcome! much love!

The lights dimmed, and it was as if the jazz bar never existed in the first place. The worn seats occupied by drunks who liked to pretend they had taste, sofas in the far corner reserved for big shots and well-established scum with pretty young accessories on either arm, the bar that sold everything under the rays of the dying sun and evil moon, it all disappeared with the dawn of the spotlight falling upon your alluring silhouette. A simple, yet elegant sleek black dress with a hint of shimmer that graced your curves seemed to shine in the glimmering illumination. The delicate silver accessories were stars in the hypnotising sky, the allure of an unreachable universe becoming overwhelming as your hands glided over the length of the microphone to find purchase on the stand. The music, starting from a low rumble, was an echo of the abyss surrounding you, manifested only at the softest inhale. After what could have been the drums and trumpet, or could have been the heavens announcing the beautiful singer’s presence finished their spontaneous introduction, Seonghwa had the pleasure of forgetting his purpose, at least for as long as the song lasted. He could drift into a sultry paradise, seduced by what had to be a siren’s call, and regard the customers of the Morpheus bar with something less than loathing.

As soon as he cleared the last of the russet coloured drink he had ordered in one gulp and set the glass down on the bar, shutting his eyes momentarily to focus on the warmth of the alcohol running down his throat, Seonghwa found the fingers of his right hand softly drumming out the song in accompaniment, each digit hitting one note, another, again and again. Back in the day, it had not been often that his visits to the bar occurred at the same time as the one and only Y/N’s performances, but when they did, he swore he could see the smog clear and tomorrow become a certainty. The music consumed him whole and even though he knew down to the second when the magic would be extinguished, a part of him still retained the hope that the spell would never be broken. Not when the only encore he could guarantee for himself was another torturous raid on an establishment such as this one, or another feverish witch hunt for those who had regained their ability to feel and to think freely. All in the name of a faceless leader who even Seonghwa himself had only met a handful of times despite being in a high ranking position of Guardian Inspector - above the standard white-clad machines, above the so-called officials clad in military uniform, he was in charge of ‘keeping civil hands clean’. At what cost? Perhaps his own emotions were the price.

The dark-haired man caught himself wondering how many people in this bar could enjoy themselves to the fullest. How many of these poor unfortunate souls that succumbed to the rush for easy money and easy love were true followers of hedonism, and were spending their days in an enviable bliss? Biting his lower lip, Seonghwa regarded his surroundings with a subtle scorn. He was well aware that he was to blame for it all too; The regime, to retain the ultimate, unwavering control over the citizens, even those who wholeheartedly believed they were well-hidden from the authoritarian judgement, was a supplier of one of the many pleasures after all - toying with people's weakness before the formidable seven sins only to lead them into full submission. The Strictland government, despite propagating ‘human emotion being a disease’ had anything anyone could ever desire, and Seonghwa was one of the many agents to guarantee long term partnerships, addiction to the illusion of a better life, and most importantly, stability and security for the people who had taken him in all that time ago when no one else would, and had given him a chance.

While he was the bringer of demise, the counter of profits drenched in crushing dread and the hand of twisted and subjective justice, at the same time, Seonghwa believed that it gave him all the more right to judge the society he was a part of. After all, he was not the one being fooled. Inevitably, his glimmering orbs settled back on the singer’s gently swaying form as they broke into the chorus, and nearly shuddered as your gaze, from languid, half-lidded but oh so appealing eyes, met his, only for a split second but it was as if hellfire itself embraced him and greeted him like an old lover. Each lyric - a personal address as you moved along at a sensual pace, the song smoother than the most expensive silk. He smirked to himself as he caught his ponderings accelerating uncontrollably, attempting to squash them under a sober, calculating fist. You were no fool either. An entertainer, measuring out each attack like a venomous serpent, not threatened, seeking fun in the reveal of vulnerability of your listeners - each one believed that you existed for them and them alone, and in the hypnotic state added bill after bill to their already hefty tips in the hopes that at least some would reach you, and you would give them that beautiful smile, maybe something more. Truly, a shame that the owner of Morpheus owed the regime a lot more than all the tips, so-called donations and what, compared to the rest of the money, was "honest" earnings all combined. The Captain of the Inspectors in charge of this little project had gotten a little too nice as of late, at least that was what Seonghwa had concluded, but it was not him who was going to pay for it, naturally.

Twisting his head, Seonghwa took note of the familiar faces that appeared at the entrance to Morpheus to join the rest of the Inspectors that were posing as regular customers, cleverly dispersed among the filth that reeked of dependence. Of course, dependence on what the regime was selling. There was no other way about it. Nodding the two men a curt hello, Seonghwa let his eyes trace back a swift path to the magnificent performance. He paid attention to how your dainty earrings glinted even in the lowered light, and how, with every subtle movement, he could see the gorgeous dress tighten just a little around your body. You were so out of place in this scene, an angel in the darkest pits of hell, a little bird struggling against the wiring of a cage, curling inwards, growing smaller until the last flutter of the wings. As he was caught up in admiring your beautiful style, grace, and listening to your sweet, warm tone, one of the two newcomers, a fellow brother in governmental salvation to Seonghwa, tapped him lightly on the shoulder and occupied the seat beside him.

“As flashy as ever, Woo. Might as well tattoo ‘trouble’ on your forehead,” he motioned towards his not so inconspicuous suit that made him look more like a mafioso rather than an average joe. Seonghwa had to admit, however, that the outfit looked too damn good on him, but this was going to be just one of those things he was to take to his grave. The man did not need his ego fed any more than what the ladies he finds as company for the less busy nights not hounded by the lower ranking Guardians provide.

“I’d carve a pretty smile on that face. Not even a hello?”

“Hi San,” Seonghwa deadpanned, looking past his friend who he noted had tied his hair into a low ponytail, and right at the other half of his duo. Wooyoung and San, two peas in a pod, and probably the last people one would ever wish to see if they were in trouble with any of the Inspectors.

“Aren’t you mean today… what, pretty star over there didn’t give you attention?” Wooyoung retorted with a smirk creeping onto his lips. With a raise of an eyebrow and a shake of the head, Seonghwa dismissed any thoughts of peace that he had been imagining, settling back to regular business.

Rolling his shoulders back, he let the scene come and envelop him. It was no coincidence that so many of the Inspectors had gathered, especially with Wooyoung and San now closing in the arrivals. It did not take a genius to guess that Captain had changed his terms, and this was no longer going to be an ordinary shakeout for money or customary information gathering from the owner of Morpheus. The owner had stalled for far too long, had strayed from ‘good practices’ of a loyal rat, and it was time to set an example for others. Disease was the human emotion, and this bar was a breeding ground for thought crime, was it not?. Lowly, lonely creatures who gathered here were all examples of where society had gone astray from the perfect vision Z had put forward, at least… most were. Those who had forgotten the meaning of feeling despite having regained the ability, those, to Seonghwa, were the true vermin. He regarded the few gathered who were most definitely not meant to be part of this story. A middle aged, haggard man with flushed cheeks and what had to be his fifth glass of the cheapest liquor on the menu. Some bigshot from another town who he recalled some of the Inspectors in charge of patrolling the area identifying this morning - no ties, no money, just a lot of ambition that was to amount to nothing. A few lowlives here and there who were faceless, in shades of grey. All not meant to be here, and yet by some stroke of fate, here they were to remain. Finally, he drifted back to the main act, still at the centre of the stage, the sole luminance among the tainted - those who had no hope in making Seonghwa feel anything but numbness. You were the only one working here. Earning your meagre pay - he had discreetly checked the bar’s balance books when the old man behind the counter was too distracted to care for a person of his kind strolling into his office that was concealed in a dark corridor. It was shameful how you were still in this far less than grand establishment, sharing your angelic vocals, despite obviously not having any compensation nor appreciation of your efforts. Perhaps the moments on stage were the only time when you felt alive; the thought would not leave Seonghwa. After much investigation playing pretend, he was confident in his conclusion: you had not changed.

You were on the tattered poster plastered up outside - the one and only, shows every Friday night. Perceive and behold the spectacular ethereal being as you sang songs that spun threads out of a spectator’s very soul, blood trickling from the cracks in their shattered form turning to gold. You sang their… his pain, promised him his glory, soothed and comforted him. Seonghwa was well aware that you were the sole reason that he had shifted his visits to Morpheus to this particular day of the week and monitored the illegal location so closely, otherwise, your face would never grace his corrupt, bleak vision. You did not deserve to go with the rest. When breaking free, one was not supposed to fall into another trap, and yet, here you were. You were not meant to be here, littering the ground that you stood on as the last of the gunpowder would settle on your perfect skin, your long, alluring eyelashes. The onyx-haired man felt a shift within himself as he mused the outcome of the unspoken plans - by the way in which Wooyoung leaned back onto the counter, a grin dancing on his features and by the way San was acting particularly kindhearted to the lonely staff who was rushing about, struggling to keep up with the visitors’ habits, he knew that tonight, they were not planning on hearing any cries for mercy. They were here to complete a mission for a higher purpose. And that mission was far from the sweet music which he had loved his whole life, and finally found again.

“They’re not supposed to be here.” he mumbled, his voice obscured by yours, echoing across and elevating to a sensual culmination.

“Aren’t we all? We’ve got to do what we’ve got to do. Think of them as a sculpture or something if it makes things easier,” Wooyoung took out a rolled up bill to put between his lips - a habit that he had formed after a few too many hits on the back of his head by San, an interesting approach to make a man quit smoking. He called it ‘smoking capitalism’, earning quite a few chuckles from the Inspectors, Seonghwa included.

“So say someone’s going to scope the ring to clean it up a bit, would you let them hit our favourite auntie?” he asked, referring to the friendly cleaner who was probably the only one in the entire city who did not bat an eye at the violent matches that Wooyoung managed under the wraps for the regime, instead cooing over the fighters he brokered for and giving the men an extra helping of her home-cooked delicacies. In many ways, she was a mother figure for the Guardian Inspectors, despite her being at risk, every day, of being taken to the Red Humans should one of them be in a ‘different kind of mood’ on an arbitrary morning.

“Definitely not. But this singer. Who are they to you?”

“A pawn.”

“A pawn?”

“Mhm. I can pawn them in for rewards.”

“Suppose they are pretty enough, if that’s what you’re thinking of…”

“Goodness, take the pimp out of the bordello but can’t take the bordello out of the pimp. That business was shut a while back for you, no?” with a groan, Seonghwa retaliated at Wooyoung’s rather out of pocket suggestions. Over the many years of serving Z in not so ethical ways, the man had tried on a few too many hats and seen a few too many hats to retain even a sliver of compassion towards anyone except those closest. It was understandable. Odd, but understandable.

“Kidding. But for real though, what’s the use?” Wooyoung bit down on the bill softly, gaze following San who had moved towards a couple of underlings that had gathered in a booth off to the side, towards the far corner of the bar. Clearly, he was checking if they had read the room.

“Say, isn’t it Captain’s niece’s birthday soon? We don’t exactly have a musical act to hand since…” Seonghwa trailed off, knowing that Wooyoung knew what incident he was referring to, involving an accusatory phrase, a short temper and a very professional shot from a sniper rifle from the boss’s office window into the temple of a figure that was storming away from one of the many Inspector accommodations. Another one to fertilise the soil with.

“Smart. I’ll give it to ya. If you sort the business out before showtime, pretty thing’s all yours.” Wooyoung responded, patting his side where, underneath his shirt, Seonghwa knew was a holstered pistol. Pushing himself away from the counter he stood up, adjusting his long, leather coat and glove. It was not that he had a particular preference, but ever since entering the new life upon being pardoned for feeling, a life where he had to say found a home, he could not help but wish to always look just that little bit more put together, even if only to appear loyal.

“Cheers. I’ll get them a nice candle-lit dinner to soften them up and then inform Cap’,” sounding purposefully sarcastic, Seonghwa mumbled under his nose, well aware that this was not a method that had ever been in use. One glower and curt phrase had always been enough - the rest was simply the heart’s doing masked by odd humour.

“Awh, look at you, how sweet and lovely. What a darling,” Wooyoung teased, sending Seonghwa a wink. The music was fading away, the last notes landing on his ears, marking every moment.

“One more word and you’ll be the main course.” with his index finger he poked the centre of his fellow Inspector’s chest in threat, maintaining a cold expression.

“Sorry, sweetheart, I’m going to be roasting out here tonight, so make it hot with pretty thing.”

“Filth,” the taller man spat, knowing that attempting to counter his friend was nearly impossible - out of all the people he knew only Captain could fully round him in, and even then Wooyoung had a smile on his face, much to Seonghwa’s confusion.

“It’s not me who is with the heart eyes.”

“I just saw an opportunity,” playing with the leather piece that buttoned up to protect his neck, he eyed you, waiting for you to finish. Unknown to you, you did not have much time left before your very life would be placed on a scale and thoughtlessly pushed to lose against the weight of usual Strictland business. Such was the violent, catastrophic illusion of order, such was the structure that had been Seonghwa’s twisted saving grace. He was going to be doing you a favour by taking you away, won’t he? Either way, you would be out of work, and he was helping you with a little job search from one of the highest payers - chivalrous and kind hearted, that was who he was. How else could the Inspectors form any partnerships and feast on forbidden fruit otherwise? Who was he kidding - a soul like you was not meant for a life like this. But he had to try. He needed time to think.

“Sure. Sure. An opportunity to grab the gorgeous star for yourself.”

“Oh shut up will you?” snapping, Seonghwa were desperately trying to cut the conversation short, seeing the window for him to make a beeline for the edge of the stage, towards which you promptly setting off after finishing your set, and receiving a dismal lack of applause - what else would he expect from the crowd gathered in Morpheus? Especially when the stench of iron and the final judgement was mere minutes away from materialising.

“You know that’s not my style.”

“Yeah, yeah. Be good. Hope you did not block my mustang,” throwing one last comment behind him, the solemn man was off, only barely catching Wooyoung’s half-hearted response.

“Have I ever…”

The mission was simple. Since he was dismissed from the less than pleasant task of wiping out the bar, considering that two more senior Inspectors had made their appearance and were clearly more in the know of what was brewing, Seonghwa had only a couple of minutes before all freedom would cease to exist. And then, no heaven could bestow mercy upon neither him, nor the beauty he had come here to save for no logical reason, instead relying on some hazy version of hope and nostalgia. He had parked his ink black ride around the block - out of sight for unwanted eyes, and perfectly positioned for getaways just like this. If you could catch the Inspector’s drift, that was. One could only pray that the dazzler on stage was just as dazzling when it came to reading between the lines. He had perhaps even less than the estimated time to explain himself before Wooyoung and San would call the owner over to get the real evening show started. Time was ticking along with the skyrocketing pace of his heart as he stopped you on your tracks with a slightly outstretched leg, only to move forward and cast a shadow over you.

It was difficult to remain level-headed when, even at such proximity, in the normally less than flattering lighting, you were nothing short of a deity. Something out of fairy tales, stories of royalty or angels in kingdoms far far away, those that were not supposed to exist. But here was one, staring right into his eyes with your beautiful expressive orbs, as deep as the history that Seonghwa had raced here to try and reignite. A universe in your irises, an all-consuming black hole in your pupils, beckoning Seonghwa, leading him into a stupor before he stuffed his hands into his pockets, bringing himself out of the momentary trance by force. Time was not on his side, and he knew that it would never be unless he kept on running.

“Lovely song, that was.”

“Indeed. ‘Fly Me to the Moon’ is one of my favourites. Did you enjoy the performance?” Your speaking voice was different, of course, but nonetheless struck that stunning familiar chord within Seonghwa, one that should never see the light of day if he were to remain how he had to be. It was terrifying, how he was ready to let go of his resurrected image as an Inspector for a chance to turn the past into the present.

You were polite. The features of your alluring face were hinting at a genuine interest, an appreciation of every movement, every breath you were taking. Though, in Seonghwa’s own line of work, particularly in the stage of undercover investigation, this was simply the usual. Show a smile, bat the eyelashes, make business, disappear. Genuine interest was an artform, but even if you were indeed expressing it in the way with which he was familiar, it felt so natural that he almost wanted to believe it. He wanted to believe this daydream who had come to change the colours of his occasional Fridays, his hunts for those straying from what Z had deemed ‘right’, leaving glimmers of memory to last him through the weeks when he had to be numb to life itself until he could come and see you again. It did not mean much to you, most likely. You were strangers in your respective new lives, and had Captain not made the decision to teach the owner of Morpheus a lethal lesson, you would have remained that way. Drifting together for a few hours, remaining distant, and drifting apart again. A forever flowing story that was to rekindle a starcrossed ‘once upon a time’ but never have that sought after resolution. A dream that reminded Seonghwa of why his unlikely survival was a blessing. As your eyes revealed a hopefulness, a plea for praise, Seonghwa gave you a soft smile.

“Of course.”

“I look forward to seeing you, you know.”

“O-oh?” Seonghwa could barely contain his surprise, the previously cool demeanour cracking into a raised eyebrow. Could you remember?

“Yes! You always sit at the bar, second stool from the left. And order… what is it… a brandy, right?”

He would be lying if he were to say he was not surprised by your suddenly chipper attitude. Almost like you were a kid who entered a candy shop for the first time to see all of your favourite treats, you excitedly revealed to Seonghwa your observations. While it was endearing to see, the shuffling behind him, along with the idea that he was not the only one intently observing left the Inspector with a sense of unease, nearly throwing him off from the initial goal that motivated him to brave talking to you in the first place.

“In…deed?”

The singer, who was previously an astounding yet distant figure captivating all who cared to look even once, rapidly transitioned into someone who he almost found endearing, the keeper of far too many qualities that cemented the rightness of his decision. You were not meant to be here, he repeated to himself. Mutters around the bar were getting louder, and as the rest of the musicians filed out of the main hall and crammed into a tiny room off to the side, in Seonghwa’s peripherals he noted San’s steady, seemingly innocent amble between the scuffed round tables and equally unpleasantly antique chairs.

“You are the only one who listens, so, how could I not notice? Actually, I wanted to talk to you properly, or at least say thank you but didn’t want to impose.”

As much as he wanted to sink into the warmth of your words and allow you to recognise him on your own accord, the rippling commotion that was finally rearing its ugly head spurred him on and struck his heart with an icy, calculating mace. He had a minute tops, knowing Wooyoung’s love for never counting down to zero before beginning.

“Well, let’s talk. Outside,” The black-clad man tried to walk off, aiming for the dark corridor at the end of which was the fire exit, but when you did not move, rolled his eyes.

“I was thinking I could buy you a drink-”

“Cute. Another time though,” seeing the tinge of disappointment in your gaze was new, and entirely unexpected, but gave Seonghwa plenty of leeway to sway you into following him, “since you watched me enough, I bet you can guess who I am. Or, what I do for work. Right?”

A steely glare, leaving nothing open to interpretation. For additional evidence, he demonstratively adjusted his coat, loosening the belt he had tied around his waist to reveal a leather holster, discreet, gun always within reach. Attentive to detail as ever, you took note of the inconspicuous design of the pistol before he let it disappear once again under the fabric - in this city, there were few who had access to any form of weaponry, the items being so highly regulated by the government that it was nearly impossible to purchase or get licensing. Your mind began to list off options; Seonghwa clearly was neither a standard Android Guardian due to the lack of mandatory uniform, nor a scruffy criminal whom you had gotten used to over the time that had passed, nor part of the police force, nor a Class 2 Prestige Academy student. It only left an answer that shook you to the core. Of course, it was not that you did not hold the assumption in your heart. As a matter of fact, you had previously assumed that you were used to greeting people from different walks of life, all gathered in the same place, at the same time for what you wanted to believe was a ‘good time’. That was what drove you to live the life that you were living. Exist in this space, despite your pay and your security almost always not being enough, but you would give even that up if that meant you could keep your freedom.

Seonghwa was effortlessly graceful, determined in every step and gesture, not a single movement wasted. In a sense, it was as if he had purposefully learned and memorised the most efficient adjustments of the body, letting himself metamorphose into a lithe, agile animal. It was terrific, and terrifying, how at any moment he could pounce, and you would never know when until it was too late. For this hint of a reason, you decided to follow the man’s unspoken command, only whispering an airy inquiry after the other musicians, which he coldly dismissed:

“You need a better band anyways.”

---

The gravity of the situation only began to settle in when the biting breeze outside of the stuffy bar hit you, seeking opportunity to tousle your locks. The strands that had managed to fall over your face were trembling, the only sign revealing your suppressed distress as the last of Morpheus's dusk-like illumination was shut from your vision with a confident slam. Your eyes widened as you watched the Inspector, or in other words, your personal grim reaper, flip a lock on the door - previously thought to be inaccessible to anyone except the owner, done so masterfully as though he were the one who had installed it in the first place. An exit, a saving grace for innocents inside, turned into a dead end - more symbolic than one would ever initially assume. He trailed up the length of his arm stopping for a moment at the material that covered his shoulder, listening to leather hit leather. Seonghwa could only find calculated resolve within himself. This was the usual for him, and that after weighing all the options, he had logically come to the conclusion that the demise of the people inside was indeed the most attractive option.

As you heard the first shot resound inside of Morpheus, you shuddered, but did not dare stop following the man in the trench coat as he strode on ahead, hands remaining in his pockets. To any onlooker it would seem that he was relaxed as ever, out for a late night walk in a neighbourhood he knew better than he knew himself. Breath in, breath out; you were trying to remind yourself of the simple act, focusing harder than you had ever done during your performances. Imagining your diaphragm stretching, letting the lungs take in as much air as possible and-

Another shot. Breath knocked from you, balance off kilter, you desperately wanted to run. Anywhere. Maybe you should have stayed, not picked up on the subtle offer of your life being spared. In that way you would not have to live with the guilt of not having said anything to your fellow bandmates, not having said thank you to the owner for… what was there to thank anyone for? Out of habit, you lifted a hand to brush over your ear, echoes of the time when you had first felt emotion rippling across your body, making you shiver. You were all fools misled by hope for a brighter tomorrow in a world that was permanently overcast. Where did this running lead you? Where did your wistful song guide you? Back into the arms of the apocalypse - broad-shouldered with hair the colour of ink, the last thing you would see before disappearing for good. At least you should thank your former so-called colleagues for the information about the common demise. Tears welled up in your eyes as you obeyed the lean man’s orders and practically toppled into the black vehicle parked by the Morpheus, a lonesome yelp masked by the gunfire and indecipherable orders.

You had no idea where he was taking you, and you did not dare ask. The man reminded you of all you had been trained to avoid in your new life, a threat, a weapon, a soldier. His gloved right hand remained resting beside the gearshift, while his left coldly gripped the steering wheel. Not a single one of his muscles appeared to be relaxed, and not a single movement had a semblance to anything natural. An automaton in the driver’s seat, you wanted to feel comforted by the idea that you were the only one truly human in the car, for the idea that someone as brutal as a Guardian Inspector could be conscious or decisive was too strong of an agony.

At the same time, in the moments where the Inspector turned his head to check the surroundings, you noted something familiar. He dashed past the blue, purple and aquamarine signs that lined the streets of the district you had learned to love, himself turning into a painting. Be it in the angles that formulated his stern face, or in the elegance that he was unable to conceal, the past crawled out of a long-forgotten cavern in your psyche and gnawed at your nerves, just out of reach of realisation. Perhaps in another time, you had known him. Perhaps in one of the banned art pieces, you had seen him. At the same time, this could not be the first Guardian Inspector you had encountered - they were all similar enough in demeanour, so what was another face? Equally as entitled, above the law. Above a runaway like you. You were vermin. The enemy. A traitor to the Academy, to Strictland, to Z himself. Or so you were told. The only thing that could be different about this Inspector, was that he could be your last.

A sharp stabbing sensation spread from your temples and what had to be through your skull, jabbing into bone and into the cerebellum. Nauseous, you shut your eyes and clutched your head in a futile attempt to seek some form of relief. The car roared, and a sudden stench of rubber and concrete penetrated through every crevice, choking your senses and making you taste the acrid pollution. One turn, another, your organs were being jolted back and forth as the monstrous engine urged on by none other than the embodiment of oblivion dragged the car across eternal misery of long-abandoned districts.

“Oh goodness…” a feeble whisper left your lips. You reached out to grab hold of the door handle, peering at the grooves to find at least something to focus on. His vision was swimming in your eyes, etchings of your surroundings morphing into repressed memories.

A boy marching beside you to class, head held at the angle commanded to all academy students. A young man, dressed in all white with black locks parted in the middle. A solemn stare, unreadable, though not fully blank as it should be. But at the same time, how could you, another student of Prestige, detect that something was not quite right? Since when could you feel? You lifted your head cautiously to try peeking at the Inspector again, but he was frozen. Only the abrupt tightening of his gloved hand around the steering wheel and a determined turn reminded you that he was not quite an automaton.

“I must be dreaming…” you blinked away a teary blur, and clenched onto your dress for the remainder of the journey, feverishly recounting whatever lyrics you could. Your little safe haven, your precious prayers to the arts - truth which you had discovered after abandoning everything you could have been.

Your hand moved on instinct to the side of your head, feeling for what once had been the hub of your consciousness. A chip that made you feel right at home, heartless, but with a purpose. Forty years of education, an eternity to serve something greater than you; clear goals, a mission for your generation and many that would come after you. Hand in hand, you were soldiers of a catastrophically closed-minded society; at the time, however, you could not be ‘happier’. Or rather, more numb. Because you did not know of negative nor positive, you could not experience either, and so remained in a stable equilibrium, just as the superpower of this forlorn land had instructed. Disease was the human emotion. You were ‘healthy’. Until that boy appeared in your life, and revealed himself to you.

Bright-eyed, hopeful, excited. So unlike anyone. And against better judgement, you let the inklings of curiosity drip over your heart, and the beginnings of affection take flight. Dark hair, dark eyes, tanned skin, a smile brighter than the sun, a soothing mellifluous voice, vowing to you that you could build another life together. A life much more beautiful than one constructed with deception and hollow propaganda. What could a little tap of a breaker do to you? Apparently, it could change your destiny.

As you massaged your temples, you locked gazes with the man in front of you, but met the boy from your past in the mirror. That same worry, knotted eyebrows, concern and care so evident you could touch it if your fingers grazed his cheek. You could not move, even when he turned back to the road, and continued to stare at the rear view mirror in the hopes of seeing your daydream again. You had to be wrong. This had to be you hallucinating. You must be just… afraid. Out of your mind. And so you were recalling one of the few times when you thought the world could do you no harm.

“Get out,” a command. As cold as steel. The engine was still roaring in your ears, despite the surroundings having gone dead silent.

A click. The doors unlocked. You could run if you wanted to. Though you were fully aware that the action would shorten your lifespan to a mere few seconds. You remained seated, gaze falling onto your lap, and listened to the painful succession of sounds that led the man to open your door, and roughly grab your upper arm.

“I said, get out,” you followed him like a rag doll, knowing that any attempts to resist would put you into even more danger. At the same time, even though the Inspector was obviously attempting to instil terror and a twisted respect for him, he could not face you. Consciously he made an effort to barely raise his lashes, thus keeping his scrutiny concealed. Reading through his hesitation was easy enough.

He could not keep his hand on you for a second longer after you stood up straight, darting away as though you were an open flame. The man cleared his throat and locked the car, before gesturing towards an abandoned building that loomed over the gravelly opening where you had completed your journey. Comically, it reminded you of Prestige, even though the latter was of much larger proportions and possessed a more unique shape. Perhaps it was the fact that this block, what used to be an apartment building, was crumbling, made you think of the academy’s inner workings. Rotting away. The cogs in the machine tearing each other apart.

This might be your end or your beginning, you were not sure which one. With an astounding loyalty, you let yourself be guided into the long-forgotten cement fortress, up exposed stairs with metal railings, past walls left bare, illuminated by an exposed moonlight, laying down a carpet of silver. It was oddly easy to think that life was beautiful when it was likely going to be taken away from you. The walk was silent, and the longer it lasted, the more at peace you felt. The odd step rang out and echoed like the gunshots you had heard, so surreal that you could barely believe it. It must have been a joke. Fireworks, or someone just being a little boisterous. Morpheus had seen so many colours of Z’s regime, it could not disappear now… oh who were you kidding. It was done for. You little version of an escape. Your space to feel.

As you made sneaky glances at the Inspector to your right, who not so ceremoniously had loosened his coat’s belt once more to have easy access to his gun, you could not help but think of the boy. You had followed his advice, made a run for it while he had been taken away by the Red Humans. Two youngsters who betrayed the regime. But who was truly free? The one who had been exterminated, or the one who had to live in fear, but at least felt the ruthless emotion?

The enigmatic man slowed down, and so did you. He made a turn, so did you, acting as his shadow. You were certain that you were probably breathing at the same rate. An empty hallway, lined with equally empty rooms and destroyed apartments. From a humble abode to rubble, you could see the horrific vistas of the district, and the drop to the cold ground below. No wall, no security, no certainty. It was only you and your fate in the form of a man who seemed to possess too much of a likeness to the keeper of your fragile adoration.

The Inspector walked in front and turned to face you. You froze, burning under his scrutiny. Eyes like scalding cold ice, assessing you, condemning you. Your best listener, now listening to your terrified heart. For what could be the last time, you felt alive. As the man reached into his pocket, you prepared for the worst, however, he only motioned with his head for you to follow him. Confused, you obeyed, finding yourself in a more secluded corner of the floor, one which had remotely retained the appearance of an actual room. Stuck in the same few seconds, there were no further commands from the Inspector, causing your mind to wander, and lips to move on their own accord:

“I should not be here.”

“Neither should I,” he deadpanned, though his choice of words was unsettling. Wasn’t he on a mission?

“I should be dead,” you persisted.

“I should have more blood on my hands.”

A pause. You were in shock, pointlessly clinging onto your own upper arms, stuck in a false embrace. Like prey that had been cornered, you were beyond the point of trusting survival instincts. You simply wanted for the interaction, or dare you say, interrogation, to be over, so you could be given away to the Red Humans, to whatever the afterlife had to offer, in peace. If you were to be melted, then so be it. If your departure were to be short and sweet, so be it. But a little question in your head still remained, a persistent worm which you decided to unleash given your hopeless circumstances:

“Then why-”

“It is pointless to ask when there is no answer,” the man answered coldly, not sparing you a glance as he picked at a filthy off-white tulle which covered a blown out window - now just a frame, with his gloved hand, glaring at the pitiful greyness outside the abandoned building before wiping the hand off with a handkerchief produced out of the pocket into which he had stuffed his hand.

A few steps separated you, but you knew better than to try and make a run for it – the man was armed, and you assumed that the gun you spotted was not the only weapon in his arsenal. He was menacing, unpredictable, and very dangerous. Alongside that, as much as you hated to admit, but the Inspectors were nothing short of extraordinary when it came to their expertise and training. Unlike Android Guardians, they were the leading forces, capable of high-risk decision making and unparalleled critical thinking. If you were to try to describe them, you always ended up thinking of chess. That was what they were playing whenever they were out in the field.

In fact, it was for this exact reason that you were concerned about this Inspector’s behaviour – it was out of line. Inefficient. Sub-optimal. You wondered if this was a new strategy or there was a higher plan; there were so many possibilities that your head could start spinning. You dug your fingers into rapidly cooling flesh, waking yourself up from the distressed rumination. What was the Inspector going to do to you? You had followed his demands so far, and weren’t putting up a fight - what more could he want?

He was unreadable. Gestures unpredictable, expression stoic, he regarded you with an air of superiority characteristic of people from his class. Serpent-like and calculating eyes, regal nose, facial structure reminiscent of a statue, plush perfectly shaped lips – all were a nod to his upbringing, you bet. He did not feel real. Reminiscent of automatons that the regime sometimes used in place of regular Guardians during high-volume riots, he was what one would call the ‘ideal specimen’. Down to the strand of wavy hair that fell on his face, he was a beautiful painting of your worst nightmare. Life had been unkind to you, you decided. It only showed you something prettier than the night lights when it was the last thing you would see.

The man stepped towards you, and your eyelids slammed shut automatically. You did not wish to see your death. The sound of leather against leather, the tied coat belt, the creaking of ancient rotten wood planks under lacquered ankle boots. He must be getting ready to end you. Were you too high profile to be lying with the other bodies in the club? Were you more dangerous in the Inspector’s view, being a singer, or as one could say a ‘spreader’ of inappropriate entertainment. Was this treason? Terrorism? You were not sure – the sentence changed more than the weather. But were you an enemy? With confidence, you had to answer with a Yes. Having escaped the regime, and according to those who had helped you regain some parts of your past self, having had a part in the uprising within Prestige Academy, you were the worst kind of citizen of Strictland. Disobedient, unchanging, and influential. You were waiting for the cocking of a pistol, for cool metal to hit your head, and for the world to go even darker as you collapsed on to the floorboards. The man had to be taking out his gun. He must have taken you away from the raid to be particularly ruthless. A sadist? Maybe. You had no time to judge.

You felt the fabric of your shimmering dress under your fingertips, and imagined you were preparing for a show of a lifetime. You counted your inhales and exhales like you would do before a performance, and conjured an audience in your mind. More rustling, another step. He, that boy, no, young man, was in the audience. Still in the Prestige Academy uniform, but the chip was long gone. He was giving you an encouraging smile eager to hear what you had achieved in your time away from the academy. Leather caressed your hand and you flinched, comforted only by how cautious the action was. Hand turned to raise your palm to the omniscient skies, your illusions combined with reality - what was Seonghwa to give to you?

Funny, how in critical moments, the mind could give you what you had longed to forget. Seonghwa. His name tasted sweet, with a bitter aftertaste. A fine wine, dizzying, addictive. A handsome, talented student who had the future ahead of him, only to throw it away for the taste of something more ‘real’ in his eyes. Something cold was being pressed into your palm, reminiscent of a large bullet or a device your fingers could remember before your mind. Your eyes shot open and were met with a dream and a nightmare. Finally, it hit you. Behind the Inspector’s facade, a mask crafted by years of experience and brutality, was the same boy, who, just like now, pressed a breaker into your palm.

“Wake up.”

Your gaze fell to the intricate metal handiwork, spotting the carving of an ‘A’ contained in a circle right at the base. The taste of anarchy, an uprising, revolution, a hope for something better flowing through a tragic story you two had written. At last, it had a resolution, and you were more than content with who was holding the lethal pen. You stared at the breaker. The very thing that brought you out of an eternal somnolence, submission to a regime. You had woken up then, and never could sleep.

“Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer… the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune…” you lifted your head once more, staring into Seonghwa’s softened eyes. He had matured, his features having become siren-like, dangerous, seductive. Befitting his character. You smiled sadly, “...or to take arms against a sea of troubles, and, by opposing end them?” He remained quiet, as if he was the one waiting for you to decide your own destiny, “Shakespeare. Hamlet. Ever read it? Or do they not let you?”

“I-” he cleared his throat, concealing a pang of nervousness, “I am familiar with his work.”

“Mm, isn’t that a criminal offence?”

“What is?”

“Reading work exploring human emotion… sounds like treason to me.”

“Reading does not imply sympathising.”

“But you do.”

Again, a heavy pause. Seonghwa rocked from one foot to another one time, another - an old habit? Or an attempt to convince you that he was at least a fraction the same?

“I… I do not,” before you could scowl, he continued, “‘Cowards die many times before their deaths. The valiant never taste of death but once’. I am more partial to this way of thinking.”

“Ah, the irony of it all.”

Your hand formed a fist around the device, and you kept on searching for fragments of the man you loved inside of the new Seonghwa before you. In flashes, you spotted glimmers of gold, feeble hints for something that could be concealed in the depths of his soul.

“So, are you going to make me a valiant person?”

“What?”

“Wasn’t that what you were supposed to be doing?” feeling a little more brave, you taunted him, wishing to see what his limit was. Whether he was lying to you just to set you at ease and make his job easier. So he could see one final sense of betrayal in your pupils.

“We are already dead, Y/N.”

---

Music. A universal language. The biggest risk for a community that someone wanted to silence. So you hummed one song after another, head leaning against Seonghwa’s shoulder as you sat on the concrete floor, in the corner of the room that was barely holding itself together. Bathed in silver light, you shared with him the luxury of reminiscing, mourned what had been lost only to have the feeling be replaced by a budding desire to wish upon anything at all.

Seonghwa might have lied to many of the Inspectors, and was in danger of facing a fate worse than extermination, but at least he did not lie to you. And because he did not lie to you, you were here; you were real. He could have the pleasure of having you beside him, wrapped up in his leather coat; your dress was not exactly ‘inhospitable conditions’ material, as pretty and befitting as it was. You were refusing to let go of the breaker as though it was the tether to a more sunny past, not that Seonghwa would ever dare pry it out of your hands. So long as you could keep singing for him forever. Even when music were to cease existing, and when the sky would fall down, he would still hear your voice. How many times had he visited Morpheus in secret, outside of his official inspections and scouting missions? How quickly had he transferred into a field role just for the chance to find you? How had he managed to remain alive even though his sentence had been supposedly set in stone, and he was still feeling? With each question, the answer grew blurrier and blurrier, until it no longer existed. Perhaps this was a manifestation of destiny. You were supposed to meet again after so much turmoil, so you did. Curious.

“What song do you like?” your voice, sleepy, serene, cut through his ruminations. Seonghwa looked down and to his side, meeting a gentle gaze.

“What song do you want to sing?”

“Mm, no that’s not an answer,” you snaked your hands around his arm and pulled him closer.

“But I like everything you sing. Because you sing it.”

“Sweet, but I’m at a loss.”

“Then let’s be quiet. Together. For as long as we can.”

“There’s not too long left, is there?”

Your question was rhetorical. Both you and Seonghwa were aware of it. Time in Strictland was not governed by the individual but by an unforgiving system. A person, or perhaps a symbol, holding the clock with an iron grip and making the hands fly faster and faster until a second was an impossible measure. Involuntarily, he sighed, causing wisps of steam to escape his lips and rise to the exposed armature of the floor above. With cooling temperatures came the cooling heart, and it was difficult to tell what it was that you loved. What was it that made you feel alive?

“You know, they gave me a choice,” Seonghwa began. There was no reason why he should be telling you about what had happened to him, but the sombre atmosphere seemed to bode well for a confession. You did not interrupt, choosing to remain passive, resigned, “either die for what I believe in, or admit I was wrong.”

“Funny how they gave you a choice,” the infamous ‘they’. The Guardians, the regime, the enemy. Now turned into a friend. Interesting how life changed.

“Definitely was not what I expected.”

“You sure they didn’t say ‘sike’ at any point and you just got lucky?”

“I don’t think they can miss,” a simple, but sharp fact. You bit your lower lip, “...anyways. You can probably guess what I chose to do. The only caveat is that I admitted I was wrong… for a different thing.”

“Do tell.”

“I was wrong for putting you in danger, Y/N.”

“Nothing we could do about that. We were two fools in love.”

Seonghwa detangled himself from you, only to grasp your free hand in his, place the other on your thigh and meet you face to face. Misty-eyed, his rationality was growing frantic, and you knew that at any moment he could snap, and only the clearing night knew what would happen then.

“But I was the one to jolt you out of a peaceful existence. I was selfish-” After years of doubting himself, sinking into a destructive illusion where he would march alongside others like a machine, he was breathing. Much to his regret, it was a sensation far too sweet and heavenly, worth every revolution and rebellion.

“I don’t regret it.”

“...What?”

“I would put this thing to my head time and time again if I had to,” you raised the breaker to eye level, attempting to get at least a smile or a chuckle out of Seonghwa. Much to your dismay, it did the opposite. You would be lying if you were to proclaim you were euphoric.

“I- I’m… Y/N I’m so sorry…” you shook your head and pulled him in, until his exhales and inhales were tickling your neck. Hunched over you like a black-clad shield, Seonghwa was unmoving. Eyes darting down, you spotted that he had taken the pistol out of the holster, and upon a second glance to where he had been sitting, you noted its lonely presence, tucked away with debris and gravel.

“You are alive. And clearly still care enough to remember me. That’s your apology. And your punishment,” in a soothing gesture, you ran your fingers through his hair, cautiously at first, then turning your ministrations continuous, measured out when Seonghwa sat back down on the concrete, only this time nuzzled into you.

“Sorry…” he forced out, choking up.

The moon counted down the time while lazily passing over the building. You were at a crossroads. In haste, Seonghwa had told you of the opportunity to serve the Guardian Inspectors, being a private entertainer of sorts, but he knew you would refuse. Fast. Becoming one’s own enemy was the one thing you would not follow Seonghwa into doing. And that is why he admired you. You were strong. You were truly alive. A bird soaring in the skies in spite of the risks of being hunted, being shot. Simply for the feeling of the wind under your wings, to be closer to the stars and to sing your song loud and clear, every note a celestial blessing.

“Blue bird…”

“Hm?”

“I think I have an idea… if you are willing to go into hiding, that is.”

“Planning uprisings are we?”

“Oh they’ve been long in the works, my love. It is part of my job to close my eyes when necessary, and when convenient.”

“Are you about to be wrong again?”

“Maybe. Or very, very right. Depends on how the song sounds to you.”

---

Walking down the corridors of the headquarters, hands behind his back and appearance pristine, Seonghwa was nothing short of a model Inspector. Low ranking employees cowered before him and bowed, while his immediate colleague Wooyoung smirked, attempting to hook any information out.

“So… where'd the pretty star go?”

Silently, Seonghwa handed him a slip recording the disposal of an ‘unnamed entity’.

“ Oh… well that’s harsh. What did they do, reject you?”

“Apparently once gone so far astray, one cannot be changed. I had to do what was best for the regime.”

“Such an example for others. Wow. Almost too good to be true, Park. Well, I’ll be reporting that the extermination and cleanup of Morpheus was successful.”

“You do that.”

While Wooyoung turned the corner, Seonghwa continued to walk straight down the metal corridor, eyes locked onto the very end. Morpheus was no longer, indeed. But your song was still ringing in his ears, and no doubt, there would be a time when it would resound over the many speakers planted all across Strictland.

Blue skies smiling at me

Nothing but blue skies do I see

Bluebirds singing a song

Nothing but bluebirds all day long

Never saw the sun shining so bright

Never saw things going so right

Noticing the days hurrying by

When you're in love, my how they fly

Blue days, all of them gone

Nothing but blue skies from now on

🌑 perma-taglist: @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @starrysvn @byuntrash101 @shakalakaboomboo @uwuheeseungie @frankenstein852 @charreddonuts @miriamxsworld @innsomniacshinestar @foxinnie8 @preciouswoozi @wooyoungjpg @nebulousbookshelf @wowie-hockey @hongjoongs-patience @jaehunnyy @maddkitt @ren-junwrld @pyeonghongrie-main @marsstarxhwa @pocketjoong-reads @yeooclock @yeonjunnie @asjkdk @lucky-cat-cafe @northerngalxy @my-loves-my-life @http-gyu

enjoyed? please consider reblogging <3 thank you

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nionom-art · 2 years

Text

So I finally did the thing- it’s Chat Noir as a mew mew :)

Sooooo... here’s what I got so far. I thought it might be cool if Mew Noir was a the first mew mew created, but it went wrong cuz science. His powers are a difficult to control and overly destructive. Marinette and her gang are the second, successful attempt. This means Mew Noir and Mew Ladybug have to work together on a regular basis, and we get the love square in the process. So, uh, yeah

I hope it’s okay that I turned his hair black- I wanted him to match the one shot black cat character Hime Azumi. I was just worried he wouldn’t be recognizable. Idk, what do you guys think?

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hotvintagepoll · 1 month

Text

Propaganda

Irene Papas (Tribute to a Bad Man, Electra, Zorba the Greek)— "From the opening shot of Michael Cacoyannis's Electra, as the proud, implacable face emerges from encroaching shadows, it becomes impossible to imagine anyone else as Euripides's heroine. Erect, immutably dignified, dark eyes burning fiercely beneath heavy black brows, Irene Papas visibly embodies the sublimity of classical Greece, tragic yet serene." -Philip Kemp (film critic) Also she's a a badass.

Jane Greer (Out of the Past, The Big Steal, Station West)—Out of the Past is one of my all time favorites because of the beautiful black and white cinematography but it helps so much that Robert and Jane are insanely hot. Honestly recommend just watching the whole movie two appreciate the visuals and her presence in the film. It's a noir and she's the femme fatale, it's very faithful to the genre but I do feel like Kathie's chemistry with Jeff is uniquely entertaining and so appealing. I'm also just kind of a sucker for actors who clearly became the basis for a lot of illustrators in the years to come, you can see echoes of her in a lot of comics and advertisement illustration.

This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Irene Papas:

An amazing actress and singer, some may say a literal Greek goddess. Fought against military dictatorship in her home country and had an affair with Marlon Brando.

She literally played Helen, the most beautiful woman in the world in Greek mythology, what more could you want

Jane Greer:

Jane is my favorite femme fatale of all time. She is SO cold!

#jane greer #irene papas #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 2

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quintessencewrites · 10 months

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Lil Hobie

atsv Hobie x thick!black!fem!reader

“God dammit, Hobie!”

“‘Hobie dammit, Hobie’ is kinda a redundant statement, love, don’t ya-”

Warnings: SMUT heavy (18+), all porn, no plot breeding kink, slight hematolagnia, masturbation with an audience, teasing, vaginal sex, mentions of oral sex, Hobie's got a God complex, unprotected sex, squirting, creampie, Hobie's tryna trap you (consensually ofc), explicit language (as always), and as always, I probably missed some...

Word Count: 2.7k...it's just a little dribble

Tags: @inmyheadimobsessed @shurislover @6-noir @ihearttish @vampzxi @verachii @phantomof-themcu @taiiunknown @sapphicvqmpires @pocketsizedpanther @oceean @venusdraco-deactivated20230701

A/N: Kinda proof-read, kinda not, if you find any mistakes, no ya didn't

“Move ya hand, doll-”

The silver hoop pierced through Hobie’s lower lip rolled into his mouth, pinched hard between his teeth. His smirk ran deep through the canyons that outlined his lips and the corners of his nose; canyons that continued through the valley that outlined his pecs and separated his abs into their own cubicle.

The sweat clinging to his dark skin glistened in the headlights of the cars passing outside your window and his abdomen tightened with the strain of restraint that he contained.

“Hobs, it won’t- It’s too-”

His lips puckered to shush you, and a sigh fell from yours. Your cunt clenched around nothing, though Hobie’s mushroom tip kissed your entrance, only pausing there due to your fingertips pushing at his lower abdomen.

“You say this e’ry time, love, and e’ry time, it fits.”

His eyes were dark, glancing over your exposed body and torn suit. His thick fingers ripped your spider-suit to shreds, until your bouncing breasts were free and your dribbling hole quivered from the kiss of cold air.

You couldn’t help but notice every little detail of his face as his gaze ran along your curves. His chin shines, coated in your wetness and the flashback of his pierced tongue abusing your clit sends an electric shock through your body.

His lip ring is crooked, having been twisted over and over between his teeth and the ones above his eyebrow shift everytime his face falls into a pained frown. His thick locs stand every which way, having been tangled with your fingers while his large head sat between your thighs.

His expression was dark, the corners of his mouth curling while the rest of his face remained stoic.

Hobie’s voice was deep and barely above a whisper, his head lowering until your foreheads pressed together. “Move ya hand,” he growled at you, lips barely cracking open fully until they found the spot just below your jaw and his teeth sank in.

Your mouth fell prettily, your plump lips forming a cute little ‘O’, your hands finding their way to the back of Hobie’s neck, burying him further into the crook of yours.

Your senses were flooded; Hob’s lips on your skin, nipping and kissing, his piercing tickling as it grazed your sensitive areas. Warmth spread through you, your walls stretching beyond capacity as your cunt swallowed him whole.

“Shit, Hobie!”

He thrust his thick cock between your legs, bottoming out until his pelvis kissed yours. All eight-plus inches sitting idle, stretching your tight cunt thin. Hobs didn’t dare move, giving you time to adjust while your chest rose and fell with deep breaths.

His came out in spurts, getting stuck deep in his chest everytime you pulled him in further. “Told you it’d fit-”

He swallowed his words the moment your tiny hand flew to close around his throat. Your dark brown eyes were wide, blown with lust.

“Fuck me, Hobs”

His chuckle shot through your system and a moan escaped his parted lips when you clenched around him as the vibrations from his laughter buried themselves deep within you. “Inna minute, doll. It’ll tear you apart if I don’ give you a sec-”

His voice trailed until his words were nonexistent. The collar around his neck that your hand had become tightened, narrowing his airway until the breaths he took became few and far inbetween.

“Tear me apart then, Hobie-”

“Ya lil minx-”

You pushed Hobie away, a movement he wasn’t expecting, and both of you moan loudly as your cunt releases his swollen dick. You’re already missing the feel of him embedded between your walls.

You sat on your knees, back turned to Hobie as the bed beneath you sunk with your movements. Hobie could do nothing but watch, mesmerized by the way your back curved into your ass, so plump and soft that he could sink into it. His gaze brought a burn so good as it ran down to your thick thighs, rubbing against each other at their center, the friction fraying what was left of your suit.

The bed shifted again when you fell to your forearms, behind sky-high and on perfect display for the man standing at attention behind you.

Your suit tore further with the arch in your back, torso pressed into the sheets. Hobie watched, his hand wrapped around his cock, choking it at the base as your manicured fingers snaked around your body, grabbing at your cheeks and spreading them so perfectly until both of your holes were winking at him.

“Tear me apart, Hobie.” You left no room for argument, pushing your hips further and further back until your ass met his front.

Hobie’s brows rose, his smile straight devilish and his hands rose and fell back onto your ass with the sound of thunder. “Wha’ ‘appened to ‘it won’t fit’?” Once more, you could feel his tip line up with your cunt. He couldn’t resist sliding in just slightly; you were so fucking soaked. Slick covered your puffy lower lips, running down your inner thigh. Hobie was about to enter a slip and slide, and he ain’ even know it.

You were writhing beneath his touch, the heat from his body mixing with the heat with yours and turning your bedroom to a sauna. You couldn’t help the quiver in your hips when his dick did nothing more than run along the length of your pussy, spreading your lips and passing over your clit.

The sexual frustration was killing you; it literally fucking hurt. “Hobs,” you mumbled, stretching his name out with a whine.

“Hmm?”

His stupid voice was so damn smug. He loved watching you fall apart before him; whining sloppily, pussy drooling carelessly. He hadn’t even fucked you yet and there you lay, supple figure already putty beneath his fingers.

The very fingers that pressed hard against your hips, sinking into your flesh, gripping hard.

“Hobie, quit playing with me.”

Hobie said nothing, still enjoying the feel of your body beneath his. He had plans to sit there and tease you as long as he wanted-

Yeah, fuck his plans.

He didn’t anticipate you leaning forward, pulling your cunt away from the tease of his cum-coated tip. He couldn’t do a thing but watch curiously when you crawled to the other side of the bed on all fours, dropping slightly to reach over the edge and come back up with something heavy in your hands.

“Wha’ you got there, love?”

This time it was you ignoring him, flipping back around, laying prettily with your back to the sheets and your legs in the air, spread as far apart as your joints would allow.

Hobie’s inhale was sharp, his mouth-watering.

Your head was thrown back, face to the ceiling, but eyes shut to the world. The room was still; the only noise coming through was that of the rain outside.

And then the buzzing started.

The thick device in your hand vibrated viciously, drawing Hobie’s attention to the little thing as you brought it down further and further.

“You wouldn’t-”

But you would. And you did. Hobie stood in front of your bed, discarded for the toy pressed into your clit.

“Oh, my- fuck!”

The rapid vibrations splashed the wetness coating your cunt in every direction and Hobs watched your cum dribble into a forming puddle on the bed.

It felt so fucking good; abusing your clit as Hobie watched. He’d wanted to be the one you came apart for; the one your pussy drooled for, but patience had never been your virtue and you had no time for his playful games.

“You needed this nut that bad, love?”

You could only respond in a string of moans, in words that made no sense.

The bed shifted once again, and suddenly, Hobie was next to you, lifting your body with ease. He sat with his back against the wall, lowering you into his lap until you could feel his pulsing cock against the small of your back.

Your legs remained apart, like magnets that repelled each other and the pressure of the vibrations against your bud intensified when Hobie’s hand covered yours and pressed the toy against you harder.

“H-hob-”

He chuckles at your quite pathetic attempt to cry out his name. “You wanted this nut, baby. Lemme help you get it.”

The tension building in your lower abdomen was fucking fierce. Hobie knew immediately, with the way your moans climbed octaves and your breathing became shallow.

He thought he’d be helping by plunging two fingers deep into your cunt, right where you wanted his cock to be.

All it did was draw you closer to the edge. His fingertips were plunging against the spongy part of your walls, feeling them clench around him.

“That’s a good girl-”

His growled praises were met with shrill gasps.

“Fuck- Hob- Hobs, I’m-”

Something within Hobie was fueled at the sight of you so close, at the sounds of you about to come undone, right beneath him, all over his hand.

The faster and harder he pumped his fingers into your hot center, the more of your cum he collected in his palm. It was sticky, running between the fingers he wasn’t using on you and his mouth watered, wanting so badly to get a taste.

“Ya close, doll?”

“I-I’m c-c-close,” you dragged the word out between clenched teeth.

“Ya gonna cum?”

“Y-yeah, Hobs-”

Hobie removed the hand still guiding yours that had the vibrator pressed into your swollen clit and pushed it into your lower stomach instead, right where your abdomen met your pelvis.

Immediately, the wetness that worked around his fingers grew, until splashing was all that could be heard with your moans. The cum poured out of you, squirting onto your sheets and Hobie’s long legs, soaking your inner thighs and Hobie’s hand.

The hand that didn’t let up on pumping into you, despite you already coming undone all over them.

“H-hobs, oh my God!”

“It’s me,” Hobie growled right into your ear, his breath tickling the delicate space. “I’m ya god-”

Your high was ending, and slowly you came crashing back to Earth. His fingers slowed their pace but didn’t stop completely and they flinched a bit within you when your hand stung his arm. “Shut up,” you sighed out with relief, finally having gotten the nut that you’d wanted for days.

Your cunt released Hobie’s fingers with a squelch and a moan from both parties. He moved them to hook underneath your thighs, lifting you in the air just slightly while he lined himself up with your center.

The damn thing was pulsing, tip thick and swollen, already shining with precum. Hobie smiled with pride when a pretty moan escaped your lips at the sight of it.

“My turn, yeah?”

His tip buried itself within you with ease, your wetness acting like a lubricant as he slipped almost entirely in.

“Y-yeah, Hobs-”

Your verbal ‘yes’ was all he needed. He couldn’t wait anymore, having watched you fall apart like that. He knew he wouldn’t last long; he was holding back just enough, so that he could bury his cum deep in your womb.

He wouldn’t mind a little Hobie Jr. or Hobie-ette walking around, and the idea of seeing you, belly swollen with his DNA-

Ugh, the thought made his dick twitch hard as he lowered you onto it, stretching you to full capacity until your ass sat flush against his pelvis.

“Fuckin’ hell, love-” Hobie’s voice was strained, his torso tight. “Ya so fuckin’ tight-”

He was always vocal during sex, and it always melted you underneath his touch. This time was no different; the feel of Hobie distending you, the way his dick buried itself in your stomach, God, you almost came again right then and there.

“Shit, Hobs-”

“Can I move?”

Your locs swung with the nod of your head and Hobie took that chance to remind you of your manners.

His teeth were sharp, digging into the crevice where your neck ran and became shoulder. He didn’t let up until the taste of iron landed on his tongue and he quickly licked away the flash of scarlet beading on your skin.

A slow hiss drew from your lungs, as he licked away at the pain he caused until it became pleasure.

“Use ya words, baby girl.”

“God dammit, Hobie!”

“‘Hobie dammit, Hobie’ is kinda a redundant statement, love, don’t ya-”

He couldn’t help but trail away at his words when your body began moving on its own, lifting off his cock until just the tip remained and coming back down on it with a bounce.

His back pressed into the wall hard, bracing himself for the repeat action.

Once more, twice more, thrice more it came; your ass clapping hard against his stomach with his cock imbedding itself further into your womb with each bounce.

“Fuck me, Hobie!” You were screeching and begging, and you truly didn’t care.

Hobs reached around, trapping both your wrists in his own large hands. You had no choice but to relinquish control over to the spider, and you did so without a fight.

“With pleasure, love-”

Those were Hobie’s last words before he threw your body off his cock, only to bring you back onto it with vigor. The sounds of clapping and wetness and whines and moans bounced off the walls and echoed back into the room, for sure being heard by your flatmate in her bedroom across the hall.

A thick white ring was collecting at the base of Hobie’s cock, stretching along the length of his shaft everytime you rose and fell back onto it.

“Fuck Hobs, fuck, fuck!”

Your head tilted back, curly locs dangling in Hobie’s face with an ache that burned in both your shoulders.

“Fuck, baby-” The end of Hobie’s words curled upwards, floating through the air and straight to your ears. “Ya can’t keep squeezing me like that-”

His words were hard, his vocal cords tight. Every part of his body was clenched as he willed back the impending orgasm that was begging to get past his tip.

“F-fuck, I c-can’t help it-”

You were shaking, a writing mess atop Hobie. Both your thighs were slick with wetness that splashed each and everytime your bodies made contact with one another.

“You’re gonna make me cum doll, and I won’t have time to pull out-”

Hobie’s dick was disappearing within you and reappearing with a bulge that outlined your abdomen. The ridge of the veins lining his shaft curved within you so sinfully.

“God, Hobie, don’t. D-don’t pull out-”

Hobie’s brows furrowed even further, a pained frown sitting upon his face. His already merciless thrusts became harsher, drilling you at a speed you knew only Hobie could achieve. “You want my seed in you? I could get you pregnant with words like that.” He pulled your wrists back, further forming the arch in your back until your body was crescent-like.

Your moans were beyond understanding at this point; your tongue forming a language only you and Hobie spoke. “G-get me pregnant, Hobs-”

Hobie’s eyes darkened, his cunning grin spreading from ear to ear. “Eh?” His torso left the wall, his face right beside your ear as he whispered into it. “You want my babies, love?”

He knew your response before you could verbalize it, your clenching around him was his answer already. A deep, lengthy groan left his open mouth and you could feel his dick jump within you.

“Want me to get you pregnant?”

You could feel the warmth begin to pool between your thighs. Hobie’s cock was already leaking, his restraint broken.

“Ya tryna be my baby mama?” Hobie groaned as though it pained him.

“Fill me up, Spider.”

Your verbal consent was all Hobie ever needed. Within the next second he was emptying his balls in your pussy, just as you’d asked. It was warm and thick, and your cunt was coated in it. The pressure within you grew to be too much and your own release came soon after, mixing your cum with Hobie’s as it trickled around his dick, still pulsating within you.

Hobie released your arms, allowing your back to fall against his chest with a relaxed breath while his cock stayed buried deep inside you, ensuring none of his seed went wasted.

His lips pressed delicate kisses into your neck, your back, and shoulder with praises falling from them.

You sighed into his touch with his arms wrapped around your torso, resting gently on your lower abdomen.

Silence fell over the two of you like a warm blanket and you relished in the feeling before Hobie opened his mouth and ruined it.

“I think we should name him Lil’ Hobie-”

“Absolutely not.”

#hobie spiderverse #hobie brown #astv hobie #hobie smut #hobie brown x reader #astv smut #quintessence writes #quintessencewrites

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