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[lvciethorn]

+ HEADER & ICONS Lucie Herondale

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#lucie herondale #herondale #lucie blackthorn #blackthorn #the mortal instruments #the infernal devices #the last hours #chain of thorns #chain of iron #chain of gold #shadowhunters chronicles #tshc #cassandra clare #tessa gray #will herondale #icons #header #twitter #Twitter Icons

[daisynik7]

[F4M] You Leave a Naughty Voicemail for Your Husband While He Works Overtime [Established Relationship][Mutual Masturbation][Car Sex][Sub to Soft Dom][Breeding Kink][Mating Press][No Thoughts][Brain Empty][Just Fucking]

Read Part 1 here!

Pairing: husband!Nanami x f!reader

Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~3.6k

cw: established relationship, p*rn without plot, smut –  PIV sex (cowgirl, missionary, mating press, doggy), mutual masturbation, mentions of sex toys, edging, blowjob, car sex, clitoral stimulation, spanking, some spit play, breeding kink, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, pet names (sweetie, sweetheart, honey, princess, baby, good girl/boy), slight degradation kink

Summary: You record a naughty voicemail for your husband while he works overtime, leaving him yearning for more. Author’s Note: Hiya friends! Breaking my tumblr hiatus temporarily to post this. Consider this a sequel/part 2 to my other fic inspired by more NSFW audio. Someone gave me the idea to do a fic with the roles reversed, so here it is! Had a blast writing this, so I hope you enjoy! Bonus: here are some NSFW audios that inspired it (of course, they’re AugustInTheWinter): Link 1, Link 2 (reddit links, 18+). Likes, comments, and/or reblogs are always appreciated, thanks so much for reading! Header image from the manga On Doorstep (it's BL and the MC looks like Nanami, I highly recommend). MDNI banner created by @/mikeykuns.

It’s past eleven when Nanami steps out of the conference room with the rest of his colleagues, having just finished the last team meeting of the day. He was asked to work overtime to help fix any remaining issues before the end of the fiscal year, which is in a few days. Normally, he’d never agree to this, but with your wedding anniversary approaching in a month, he wants the extra income to buy you that gold chain bracelet you’ve had an eye on. 

With all his tasks complete for the day, he can finally leave. He gathers his belongings, checking his phone to see the missed call and voicemail you left him about an hour ago. She must be asleep already, he thinks, not bothering to call you back. When he gets in his car, he props his phone to the mount, ready to listen to your voicemail on Bluetooth while he drives home. He presses play as soon as he pulls out from his parking spot.

“Kento.” Your voice is hushed and breathy. “I miss you.”

Nanami clenches his jaw, already aroused by your sultry tone. He grips the steering wheel tighter, glancing at the phone screen to check the length of the voicemail: three minutes. That’s the limit before it cuts you off. And while the ride home is a mere ten, he has a feeling it will be excruciatingly long by the way this message is already playing. 

You sigh. “I miss you so much, Kento.” There’s rustling in the background; Nanami imagines that you’re turning over in bed, under the covers. What are you wearing right now? The cute flannel pajamas he bought you two years ago for Valentine’s Day? Or the lingerie set you purchased yourself to surprise him for your most recent anniversary? At this rate, for his own sanity, he’s not sure which one he prefers. 

“I can’t wait till you get home, honey. I’m so…” Your voice is heavy with lust; he can see the provocative face you’re making as you squeeze the phone to your ear, reaching between your legs to that throbbing pussy. “I’m so horny right now. I wish you were here.” If he listens closely, he can hear the squelch of fingers flicking your clit rapidly. “But since you’re not, is it okay if I touch myself?”

He’s tempted to slam on the gas and fly through the city to get to you in record time. Break all driving violations and his own personal morals to watch you play with yourself. It’s torture, sitting behind this red light, following the rules, listening to you moan into the phone, so needy and desperate for his cock. What’s worse is that you’re ovulating this week; he knows how pent up you must be from his absence tonight. Fertile and in heat, that wet sloppy cunt begging to be filled with his seed. He promised he’d make it up to you tomorrow morning, but why waste this perfectly good opportunity? Especially when you��re practically begging for it. 

“Remember how good you fucked me last night? How you pinned me down by the wrists? How tightly I squeezed my legs around you as you pumped me full of cum?” It’s all Nanami thought about when he wasn’t focused on work today. Enough to force him into the men’s room to jerk himself off, fantasizing about it. Replaying your wanton moans ringing in his ears, the way your body convulsed around him, that adorably dumb expression on your face while you were getting fucked into oblivion. Normally, he’d be ashamed of himself at how lewd he was being in a work setting, but the memory of you was too irresistible, even for him. 

He’s not usually perverse like this, but something about you drives him crazy. His hands are typically at 10-and-2, the correct position to steer the wheel. But just this once, he deems it necessary to lose his prim and proper attitude. He drops one into his lap to unbuckle his belt, unzip his pants, and reach down to palm his cock through his briefs. It’s enough to gain a bit of relief from this torment, at least until he’s safely home. Nanami wipes the sweat beading on his brow, accelerating too hard when the light finally switches to green, keeping his grip steady as he strokes his cock, listening intently to your voice surrounding him in the car. 

“Are you hard right now, Kento?” There’s more movement in the background, as if you’re opening and shutting a drawer. Blood rushes into his cheeks, predicting exactly what you’re about to do. “Do you like listening to me touch myself?” There’s a familiar hum now, and he visualizes the pink vibrator buzzing in your hand, the fluttering tip teasing your swollen clit. He’d do anything to teleport directly into the bedroom and have his way with you.  

“I’m so lonely in this bed without you. I’m fucking myself, thinking about you. Wishing it’s you instead of this stupid toy. Can you hear it, sweetie?”

“Yes,” he answers to no one, shoving his underwear down to release his erection, stroking himself faster with his right fist. He’s forced to stop again; how many fucking streetlights does this goddamn city need anyways?! It’s excruciating. 

“My pussy is aching for your big cock.” The buzzing intensifies; you’ve increased the setting one level, on the verge of an orgasm. Typical behavior of his obedient slut of a wife. He loves sliding his fingers inside while you press the vibrator deeper into your clit. He’s obsessed with the way you gush around him, clenching him tighter, addicted to how it tastes on his tongue when he slides those cum-coated digits into his mouth. 

“Hurry home, honey. I’m waiting for you. This pussy is already so wet for you. I’m going to use you as my sex toy tonight.”

“Fuck, I want that. I really want that,” Nanami moans in response, releasing his cock from his grasp, thighs fidgeting from arousal. 

“You love it when I use you, huh? Love it when I fuck you silly until you’re milked dry.”

He groans, bucking his hips into nothing in the seat, briefly losing control of the wheel, causing the car to swerve. “Fuck, I love it, sweetie. I love it. Please.” He’s not sure what he’s begging for. All he knows is that if he doesn’t get home soon, he’ll combust, taking the car down with him. 

“Fuck, Kento. I’m thinking about how deep you hit it from behind. Slapping my ass, treating me like a bad girl, pounding your hips into me like a fucking animal. I get so fucking cock drunk off you. Makes me want to come just talking about it.”

“Then come for me, baby,” he blurts out, fully aware he’s talking to a recording. He’s completely lost it now. 

“Ah, I’m close. I – ” you interrupt yourself with your own whimpers. Nanami listens as he cruises past the speed limit now, wiping the bead of precum at the tip of his cock with his thumb,  edging himself. It’d be a shame for him to waste his load onto his lap. He’s going to give you every fucking drop he has. Build it up so that your pussy is flooding with his hot, sticky mess. 

You whine loudly, “I’m coming, Kento. Ah, I’m coming for you.” You moan into the phone, and Nanami has to release himself to prevent from orgasming too, Then, there’s silence on your end, except for your staggered breaths and occasionally rustling of the sheets beneath you. Eventually, the voicemail ends without another word, and he assumes that you’ve fallen asleep. He smiles to himself, imagining you, his gorgeous wife, with your legs splayed out, vibrator loosely gripped, completely knocked out on the bed. 

He replays the voicemail, continuing to edge himself until he finally pulls into their driveway, opening the garage. He parks, shutting off the ignition, then searches the backseat for the box of tissues, wanting to clean up whatever mess he’s made. Before he gets the chance to, the door leading inside swings open, and it’s you, standing in the door frame in a sheer lingerie nightgown. The same one he expected you’d be wearing tonight. 

He swallows hard, cock still out, stiffer than ever, watching you step towards the driver’s side, bright face peering through the window. You glance to his lap, noticing the lewd sight. 

You tap on the glass, feigning innocence. “Kento?”

He opens the door slowly, face flushed, eyes half-lidded in a daze. “Sweetheart, please.” 

His slacks have been shoved off haphazardly down his legs, engorged cock sprung against his abdomen, precum leaking out the tip. His cheeks are pink, hair tousled, forehead dewy with sweat. You smirk at him, pleased to see that he’s listened to your voicemail. “Oh, honey. Look at you. Have you been a bad boy?” You surround him with your fingers, jerking him slowly. He twitches at your touch, sensitive and aching in your fist. 

He shakes his head, shutting his eyes closed as you stroke him. “No,” he stutters, “I’ve been very good.”

You inspect the car, realizing what he’s trying to convey to you; he hasn’t come yet. “Oh, baby,” you coo, squeezing his cock in your fist. “You’ve been very, very good. My good boy.”

He nods this time, leaning forward for a kiss. “Yes, I’m a good boy for you. I’m your good boy,” he huffs through gritted teeth. Nanami isn’t normally like this, so submissive and needy. But tonight, he has zero hesitation; he’s begging to be dominated, to be used and toyed with. 

You lick into his mouth, nipping at his bottom lip. “Do you want your reward now? Or should we go inside first?”

He won’t last much longer, so he spits out, “Now. Please.”

You smirk, kissing him messily, tongues swirling, swapping spit while his dick pulsates in your palm. “Fuck,” he groans, rocking his hips into you. “I’m going to come if you keep – ” he chokes on his saliva, unable to finish his sentence. 

You giggle, nibbling at his ear lobe. “If I do what, baby?” You want to tease him a bit more, so you bend over his lap, kneeling on the bottom frame of the car, sinking down on him with your mouth. He throws his head back against the headrest, swearing loudly. You blow him until his cock is lubricated with your spit and he’s squirming above you, ready to burst. 

He pulls you off him abruptly, tugging you towards him. “I can’t,” he urges, completely red now, all frenzied and flustered. “Please, I can’t take it anymore.”

Giggling, you swing your leg over him, straddling his lap and smooching his forehead. “Alright, honey. I tormented you enough.” You’re not wearing any panties beneath your nightgown, so when you start to rub yourself on his shaft, his eyes widen in surprise, staring at you, sputtering a mix of curses and nonsense.

You grin, kissing him softly, rocking yourself along his length. “I told you, didn’t I? This pussy is so wet for you. I’ve been prepping myself all night, thinking about you.”

“Fuck, I’m going to come. Put it in, sweetheart. Hurry.”

You guide him in you easily until he bottoms out, sitting on him without moving, licking into his mouth. His hands slide around your hips, holding you tenderly, staying still, melting into your kiss. Before you can start bouncing on him, he squeezes you, huffing, “I’m coming.” 

His dick pulsates, spurting his hot seed deep inside you. You continue to kiss him, smiling against his lips, pleased and satisfied. When he’s finished, you graze his ear. “Good boy.”

“Fuck,” he mutters, brows knit together, eyes shut tight. He opens one to peek at you, embarrassed. “This is your fault.” The blush on his face cascades along his neck. “You knew this would happen when you left me that voicemail.”

Laughing, you give him a smooch on his cheek. “You’re right. I was being bad tonight. Are you going to punish me for it?” You tug at his tie, loosening it on his collar, trailing his chest to unbutton his dress shirt. 

He relaxes, smirking as he slaps your ass with his palm, cupping the flesh immediately after. You whine his name at the contact, nuzzling into his neck. “Ah, Kento.”

“Bad girls deserve to be punished,” he growls, low and wicked, delivering a fresh smack to the other side. His cock is erect again inside you, stuffing you full once more. “You’re going to take this cock until I can’t get hard anymore. Understand?” He rocks you back and forth on him, thumb pressed at your clit, rubbing small circles. “Until this slutty little cunt is so full of my cum.”

You nod silently, clinging to his shoulders, body trembling with arousal. The switch in demeanor, from him begging you for sweet release to now being domineering and cocky, has you titillating for more. He chuckles, wrapping you in snug embrace, kissing the top of your head. “Look at you, darling. You’re shaking. Let’s go to the bedroom, okay princess?” And his ability to turn on this sweet charm has you softening in his arms, pliant and ready to be played with. 

Soon, you’re inside your bedroom, legs spread wide, some residual cum trickling down the inside of your thighs. He strips his remaining clothes off, cock unbelievable rigid in his fist, jerking himself off to the sight of you in your transparent lingerie, his load leaking from your slit. 

“You’re a fucking slut for getting me worked up like this,” he grunts, hovering over you, tapping the tip of his dick on your swollen clit. “I edged myself the entire drive, saving all this cum for you.”

You bite your lip, holding back the guttural, animalistic moan escaping from within your throat. His confession has you quaking, eager to be filled even more to the brim with his seed, eager to be bred. You can blame it on the fact that you’re currently in heat, or that you’re just this much in love with your husband that you can’t think of anything else you want more in this moment than to be connected with him. You grip the sheets below you, fanning your thighs impatiently, waiting for his cock. “Breed me, honey. Fuck all your cum inside me. I want all of it, every single drop. Hurry.”

Oh how quickly do the roles reverse. 

He slides his cock inside you, his own cum coating it as he pulls out slightly, observing the lewd scene. “Look at how full you are, and it’s still not enough. Such a greedy cum slut.” He spits a frothy wad of his saliva onto your clit, smearing it with his thumb. “You’re going to come on this cock before I give you anything. Got it?”

You nod, closing your eyes, turning your head to the side, losing yourself to the pleasure rippling through your body as he pounds into your pussy, the sensation so intense it resonates all the way down to your toes. He’s so mean, so unlike his usual doting self when he’s in this mood, and you can’t help but succumb to it. He tips your chin back towards him. “Look at it,” he demands. You open your eyes, his expression wild, fucking you faster, his thumb working your clit ruthlessly. “Watch me fuck this messy cunt.” He grips you behind the legs, hoisting you so that your knees are towards your chest, holding you into a mating press. Unable to contain it any longer, you moan loudly, grabbing at your own ankles to keep yourself spread wide for him as he thrusts in and out of you relentlessly. 

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it sweetheart? To be fucked and pounded by me instead of that silly toy. To use me and milk me dry of every last drop. You asked for this. This is what you get for being so fucking naughty.” He rests one of your legs onto his shoulder, turning to smooch the side of your knee, sucking on your skin. 

You continue to moan his name until it’s reduced into a blubber of incoherent cries as you’re pushed over the edge, reaching your climax. “That’s it, come on my cock, princess. That’s a good girl.” Still, he doesn’t ease up; in fact, he fucks you harder, spurred by your orgasm, intent on chasing another. “Just keep taking it, okay beautiful? I know you can do it.” He pounds you into the mattress, the bed creaking noisily beneath you with each solid thrust, perspiration dripping from his body onto yours. You’re no longer thinking clearly; everything is in a haze, blissful and euphoric, only your husband on your brain. He’s fucked all other thoughts out of you. Has you obsessed with his cock, hungry for his cum, keen on him to breed your fertile womb.

“Fuck, Kento, right there! Right there!” you cry out, grasping his hair between your fingers, pulling him in for a sloppy kiss. 

“Right there, huh?” he teases, slowing his pace to thrust deep into your G-spot, nails digging into the flesh of your hips. “Always taking me so fucking deep.” He grabs your wrist, placing your hand at your clit. “Touch yourself while I fuck you. Squirt on my cock like a good little slut.”

You obey him, flicking your sensitive bud with your middle finger while he watches intently, another orgasm fast approaching. You twitch around him, pleasure overtaking your entire body, sending a rush of ecstasy that has you seeing stars. 

Of course, it still isn’t enough for him. Not after what you put him through earlier. “Turn over,” he mutters, pulling out, cum spilling onto the sheets. “You know what to do.”

He’s right; it’s second nature to you now, to throw your ass back and fuck yourself with his cock. All he has to do is kneel behind you with his hard dick out while you swallow him whole, pumping it in and out of your pussy. It doesn’t matter how pliant you feel, or how fucked out you are, tongue lolling out of your mouth, drool leaking from the sides of your lips. You know exactly what to do to get what you want out of him. 

You can feign innocence all you want, pretend to be shocked when he manhandles you like a fucking rag doll, slamming his hips into you, wet slaps bouncing off the walls of your bedroom. Shrieking when he presses his rough fingers to your swollen clit. Burying your face into the pillow, muffling your shameless moans and shrieks of, “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!” This is what you intended when you spread your legs earlier, phone in your hand, ready to leave that filthy voicemail for him, knowing he’d listen on his way home. Knowing he’d save all his cum for you because you’re ovulating, and he wants more than anything to get you pregnant. Knowing he’d want to fuck you into a frenzy regardless, always desperate to empty his load inside you. It’s what you want because you know he wants it too. That’s what makes it even better, knowing your husband is as feral for you as you are for him. 

“Fuck, I’m close,” he whispers, voice wavering.

Craning your neck to face him, you murmur, “Want to see you.”

He smiles, pulling out, your pussy fluttering around the emptiness, already eager to be filled again. “I want to see you too, my love.” He flips you over, pushing your knees towards your ears into a deeper mating press, kissing you sweetly on the lips. You wrap your arms around him, whining his name into his ear as he fucks you rough, the bed frame precariously shifting with each plunge of his cock. 

“Fuck, I’m coming,” he groans, cock twitching and spurting every hot pulse inside you. “Take all of my cum, sweetheart. All of it,” he mutters, forehead pressed to yours. “I love you. I love you so much.”

When he finishes, he lowers your legs slowly, rolling beside you to cradle you in his arms. You nestle into his chest, listening to his steadying heartbeat. “Are you okay, sweetie?” he asks, massaging small circles into your back.

You nod against him, remaining silent, too drained to even respond with words. He lets you rest like this for a moment before hopping off the bed, stepping into the bathroom, rummaging through the cupboards. Shortly after, he returns to you with a container of baby wipes in hand and a glass of water in the other. 

You’re a mess down there, sleek, wet, and gushing with slick. He kneels beside you, wiping your forehead first from sweat. You peer up at him, smiling, cupping his cheek. “Thank you,” you mouth to him. With another, he cleans your hands, then your legs, always glancing at you to make sure you’re still doing fine. You’re truly grateful for having a spouse as attentive and as caring as your husband, who, despite his typically stoic disposition, always dotes on you so sweetly. 

Done cleaning you up, he traces the outline of your lips with his thumb, saying, “Drink water, honey.”

You grumble at him, pretending to be asleep. He chuckles, leaning in closer for a kiss. “And go pee.”

You peek at him with one eye open, nuzzling your nose to his. “Okay, fine. But after you hold me for one more minute.”

He smiles, sliding his arms around you. “Anything you want, sweetheart. Anything you want.”

#nanami smut #nanami kento #kento nanami #kento nanami smut #nanami kento smut #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #nanami x f!reader #nanami x fem!reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #nanami fanfic #jjk nanami #husband!nanami #n.sfw links

[pedgito]

clawing at the walls for the tiniest little snippet of rich bfd joel 🙏🏼

preview at some pics for the fic header, you know...for the vibes and all

Joel is in his 40s here & Reader is early 20s

There is a belief in you, fully realized, that something is up here.

"Mr. Miller," You lick your lips hesitantly, squaring yourself up against the counter, standing straight, trying not to seem like you were teetering near a dangerous edge of delirium, wondering if you we're imagining all of this, "can I ask you something?"

There's a severe lack of distance between you two, knees knocking against each other's gently from where you both stand, eyes searching out cautiously even though you know there's nothing to worry about. You were alone, something that has happened far too many times over the past few months. Lingering moments of wandering gazes, eyes connection from across the room even if Joel was surrounded by people, partying with friends while you're tucked away in the corner while Sarah talks to you about the boys at school that you can't be bothered to give the time of day.

Because of Joel. Because your mind is so tainted by the idea of him.

His palm is flattened out against the counter, adorned with a couple golden rings that clack against the marble, gold chains to match that sat perfectly against his chest, framing the small patch of hair that peeked out over his unbuttoned shirt, silk-pressed and adorned in a silly design that somehow always managed to work perfectly with whatever Joel paired it with.

"Course," He assures you, "You need somethin'? 'Cause you know if things aren't alright at home you're welcome to stay with us."

Joel reaches out to touch your cheek, the warmth of his skin melding with your own as your breath catches in your throat.

Touch wasn't new, but it never got old. Like a brand against your skin that screamed out for more. You look down briefly, mouth opening slightly to say something, but quickly resigns back to it's previous position, lips pursed under a soft scowl.

"I can take care of you," Joel reminds, like you could ever fucking forget it, adoration written all over your features—and the outfits you wore that he bought, the dainty gold chain that he'd leant to you as a gift when you pointed out how much you liked it—he'd bought it for himself but there was no resistance in offering over it over to you, bright smile stretching across your face in the moment that Joel felt a sickening addiction to, "—if that's what you need, sweetheart."

and that's all you get bitches

#joel miller x reader #wip #mutuals <3 #gin ily

[naeverse]

Keep It In The Closet (Halloween Special)

💜  starring: Miguel O’Hara x Shy fem!reader

🍾 preview: 

"I didn't know you had that kind of fire in you, Y/N. You always seemed so… timid," he said, his thumb caressing your side, sending a shiver down your spine and igniting a fire within you. "But tonight...

You've been all I’ve thought about."

😈 summary:

Miguel O'Hara finds himself being dragged to a Halloween party by his friend, Peter B. Parker. His disdain for the party quickly dissipates when he is drawn to a mysterious woman in a sleek leopard costume and captivating black mask that seems to move him in ways he'd never thought possible…

🍾 tw/cw: Unprotected sex, Sensory Deprivation, Wall sex, Fingering, Dirty talk, Semi-public sex, Standing, etc… 

😈 Pet names: Bebè (Baby), Cariño (Darling), Muñeca (Doll), Gatita (Kitty), Hermosa (Beautiful)

💜rating: 18+ explicit I SMUT I

🍾Word Count: 7.1k

(Every character mentioned is of age!!)

😈Credit to artist in header:  sylvaeon

(*All rights reserved. DO NOT repost/translate/copy any of my work.*)

Miguel let out another annoyed groan, his amber eyes rolling in irritation as he rode in the passenger seat beside his friend, Peter B. Parker. 

"Come on, Miguel, don't be like that," Peter said, glancing over at the huge, tanned male beside him in the car while he drove. "I promise this party MJ and I are hosting is going to be worth it! Pinky promise!" He joked, even putting his pinky finger up and giving it a shake whilst turning his amber eyes to look at the road in front of them.  

Miguel couldn't help but roll his eyes, feeling like he had done it a hundred times already. He muttered under his breath angrily, turning to look out the window, feeling sullen.

"Miguel, it's Halloween night! What were you going to do, huh? Stay cooped up in your office this whole time?"

"Yeah, actually," Miguel replied. The mere thought of spending an entire night among multiple Spider-people already made him feel claustrophobic.

"You know me, Peter. I don't do parties." Miguel growled, keeping his crimson gaze fixed on the window on his passenger side, taking in the many halloween decorations and trick-or-treaters that covered Peter's dimension, Earth-616.

Peter laughed. "I couldn't tell. You seemed pretty prepared, buddy."

Miguel snarled, his eyes glancing down at the outfit he had thoughtfully picked out. 

He wore a scarlet, collared button-up shirt that was unbuttoned a few at the top, covered with a black blazer. His black formal slacks and leather oxfords dressed the bottom half of his outfit. To finish the look, he had added some gold jewelry. Golden bands of different sizes and shapes adorned his fingers, and a chain was worn around his neck, accentuating his bronze, defined collarbones and thick throat.

"Shut up and drive," Miguel snarled, earning another laugh from Peter. "Okay, fine, but I promise you, Miguel. When you leave this party tonight, you'll be thankful I dragged you there..."

Miguel sighed, heavily doubting Peter's words.

Miguel felt a huge wave of dread hit him as soon as Peter arrived at the penthouse he rented for his party. 

“I can’t have alcohol and drunken spider folk around my baby, Miguel. I have a family now!” 

Miguel vividly remembering him rant when he asked the simple question of why a penthouse out of everything. 

Miguel let out another heavy exhale, his dark brown eyes wandering the party from the safety of the passenger seat, trying his best to get the lay of the land. He cursed once more under his breath when he turned over to Peter’s side of the car to see a scary clown staring back at him. 

“BOO!” 

Peter exclaimed, causing only an unfazed grunt to escape Miguel’s lips. “What the fuck are you doing?” Miguel asked nonchalantly, his eyes narrowing in confusion and annoyance. Peter groaned in frustration, pulling the mask up from over his face. “You are no fun Miguel. You could at least pretend to be scared.” Miguel rolled his eyes, his arms crossing over his broad chest. “Why? You look more ridiculous than scary.” 

Peter snickered, pulling his mask off to take a look at the clown covering before placing it back onto his head. “Yeah, yeah. To you maybe. This mask looks pretty sick to me.” He laughed, glancing over at the bustling party that was occurring at the huge penthouse in front of them. “Well, we’ve stalled enough. Let’s head in now, I know MJ is probably tired from hosting all by herself.” He exclaimed, turning to Miguel. 

“You got your mask?” 

Miguel’s eyebrows instantly furrowed, his jaw clenching. “I didn’t bring a mask.” Peter ran a frustrated hand through his dark brown hair. “Miguel, it’s a Halloween party. Did you think you would just walk in there like…that!?” Peter motioned to Miguel’s outfit causing him to scoff. “I told you from the start I didn’t want to fucking come, Peter. Of course, I didn’t bring a mask.” Miguel snarled, causing Peter to hold the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. “Just…bare your fangs and do whatever you do with your eyes to make them redden. Look the part.” 

Miguel was practically seething, his fangs starting to protrude from under his lips, his eyes darkening. “Just like that!” Peter said with a grin, covering his face with his clown mask before exiting the car. Miguel growled, leaving the car after Peter, and slamming the door shut behind himself. 

Miguel walked behind Peter, his seven foot stature making him a foot taller than the family man before him as Peter led him towards the penthouse where his hosted Halloween party was occurring. 

“What’s up Peter?!”

“Hi, Peter!”

“Nice party!” 

Many spider-people dressed in costumes exclaimed to Peter when he appeared at the front door. Peter grinned happily, welcoming the social event whilst Miguel's body instantly tensed up, his face hardening. 

He wanted nothing more than to leave…

 “Hey, everyone. I’m happy to hear the party is going great so far.” Peter smiled, before stepping out the way to reveal Miguel. “But, look who I pulled out of the office?! No one other than the boss himself, Miguel O’Hara!” Peter chuckled, resting his elbow on Miguel’s shoulder. Miguel glared daggers at Peter putting him on the spot, before his crimson eyes swept across the stilled social event.

The party seemed to instantly come to a halt, small murmurs and whispers occurring at the sight of Miguel’s attendance. Even the music seemed to have lowered in volume.

Miguel sighed heavily, brushing Peter off.  “I’m heading to the snack bar.” He uttered, wanting to get out of the hot seat Peter had carelessly thrown him into.

Peter nodded, returning back to frantically chatting with a few party attendees. Miguel left, entering further into the party. 

It seemed as if by his mere presence, it was disrupting the little Halloween Bash. Dancers coming to a stop at the dance floor, excited conversations coming to a halt, and eyes behind different colored masks trained on him as he passed. 

Miguel didn’t care. He had told Peter multiple times that Miguel O’Hara and social events didn’t mix, yet, Peter proceeded on dragging him here. 

“Voy a matar a Peter un día de estos.” 

He angrily mumbled, opening the blue cooler by the snack bar to pull out a cold beer bottle. He brought the bottle to his lips, using his fangs to pop open the lid before taking huge gulps of the alcoholic beverage, his Adam’s Apple bobbing with each swallow. A contented sigh passed his lips when he pulled the beer from his mouth

“That’s good.” He breathed, his amber eyes moving to take in the party whilst he leaned against the wall. 

The main party where Miguel stood, was located in a spacious living room, the many furniture pushed back to create a dance floor. A DJ stood at the front, turning tables and hyping up the party whilst many costumed bodies danced before him. 

Miguel was rather overwhelmed. His enhanced nose picked up on so many scents, so many smells ranging from the aroma of the delicious delicacies that covered the snack table, to the intense mingling of women's perfume and male’s cologne, and the sweat that leaked from the dancing Spider-people on the dance floor. 

His ears also were hit intensely by the loud soundwaves of the speakers, and chatter of the spider-people around him, but there was one conversation that piqued his interest. 

“Come on. Get on the dance floor with me?!” 

He heard a young girl say somewhere to his right. 

Miguel leaned against the wall, sipping his beer whilst his dark brown eyes searched the party for the identity of the voice when he located the two figures. 

A girl in a black witch dress, pointy hat, and tall boots stood before another woman, tugging at her arms. The young girl who looked to be in her early 20s was blocking Miguel's view of the other female she was conversing with.

Miguel continued to watch from afar, his enhanced hearing being able to pick up the entirety of the conversation between the two females. 

“I-I don’t know, Gwen…I-I-I don’t want to go,” you mumbled nervously, hugging your body. Gwen sighed heavily, pushing a strand of her blond hair behind her ear, and twirling the small broomstick in her hand. 

"But I want you to have fun. I didn't bring you here so you could hug the wall the whole night," Gwen, your best friend, explained with a pout, still tugging your arm. "Come on, get out of your shell."

You bit your lip nervously. "I-I feel out of my shell already w-with the Halloween costume you gave me," you timidly said, causing you and Gwen to glance down at your Halloween costume. 

A long-sleeved leopard bodysuit covered your being, along with a pair of leopard cat ears headband was worn on your head as a long tail flowed from your backside. Your bodysuit completely exposed your thighs and legs, which were dressed with fishnet stockings. Knee-high, heeled leather boots covered your feet, and to top off your look, a black collar with a bell adorned your neck, and a black mask concealed your eyes and nose, leaving your dark red lips revealed.

The outfit was rather revealing for a timid and shy girl like you, but due to Gwen's persistence, you adorned the costume and came to the party hosted by her friend, Peter B. Parker.

"What are you saying!? You look fantastic! Stop worrying so much," Gwen giggled, briefly glancing back at the dance floor where she recognized a few spider-people before turning her attention back to you. 

"Okay... I won't force you, but go check out the snack bar or something? Enjoy yourself." She grinned and then leaned in close to you, whispering loud enough to be heard over the pounding music.

"I even heard the Vampire Ninja himself is here."

Your eyes widened behind your mask. "W-wait, what!? M-Miguel O’Hara is here!?" you exclaimed, trying to hide the blush creeping into your cheeks. Gwen smirked, well aware of the effect Miguel had on you.

"Yep, so I suggest you get out there and show off that costume some," she playfully suggested before disappearing into the sea of dancing bodies on the dance floor. You bit your lip, pressing your back against the white walls of the penthouse.

The fact that Miguel O'Hara was at this Halloween party made you even more nervous. 

You wanted to leave…

You remembered the day you were accepted into the Spider Society and your not-so-great first impression to Miguel O'Hara. 

His striking appearance had made you a total klutz. You couldn't shoot your webs accurately or dodge incoming attacks, often ending up on your back in pain. But your extensive knowledge of the Multiverse and your skills in medicine, technology, and innovation compensated for your poor physical performance. You knew your ability to create a gadget in under 30 minutes, a task that took Miguel two hours was the main reason he accepted you. 

After that embarrassing episode, you thought Miguel would never notice you, let alone look in your direction.

However, Miguel's crimson eyes couldn't help but be fixed on you at the party. 

Once Gwen left, he finally was able to see the timid woman she was talking to and he couldn't believe who he saw…

He almost dropped his beer bottle.

You were stunning, absolutely breathtaking. 

He’d never felt this way before about anyone. The mere thought of anything more than a good night with a woman made him shudder. He believed the whole relationship thing was a huge distraction, especially with the job and life he led.

His eyes continued to look you up and down, taking in the way the leopard costume accentuated your breasts, and feminine curves, and the sight of your flawless, luscious legs under your fishnet stockings. 

What really made Miguel's heart flutter was the shyness that practically radiated from your body. He knew from your conversation that, like himself, social events weren't your thing as you were practically trying to become one with the wall and disappear from the party. 

But despite your desires to be unseen, all you did was gain Miguel's attention more and more…

"Hey buddy!"

Miguel jumped, feeling Peter smack him on the back as the clown mask he wore on his face came into view in front of him. "Damn Miguel, now I scared you? I wasn't even trying that time." He cackled, causing Miguel to groan, tapping his ring of his middle finger against the brown bottle in irritation. "What do you want?" He growled, his flickering red eyes constantly glancing over at the leopard girl to see Gwen, your best friend had returned as the blondie was excitedly talking to you. 

He couldn't hear the conversation, not with Peter rambling in front of him. "-And MJ took my phone when I was just trying to call her mom to check in on Mayday. She's just being so frustrating, man." Miguel's jaw clenched, his hand dangerously gripping his beer bottle. "So, you came over here…to talk about MJ preventing you from contacting your kid?" Miguel asked sternly, the tapping of his ring against the glass of his drink coming to a halt. 

Peter didn't seem to notice the anger that was slowly rising up in his friend as he continued talking. "Yes and no." He snickered from behind his clown mask. "MJ had set up a little game in the guest bedroom upstairs, and wanted me to round up some people to play." He said. "Talking about, maybe playing would ease my worries about our daughter, like that will ever happen." He said with an eye roll. 

Miguel scoffed, the mere thought of playing some childish game with a few spider-people made him recoil in disdain.

"Now why the hell-"

"O-okay…I-I'll play." 

His ears picked up the sound of the enchanting feline from across the room. His heart dropped to the pit of his stomach, his eyes snapping over to Gwen and you to see your witch friend jumping up and down excitedly. 

Miguel growled, running his frustrated, ring covered hand through his dark brown curls. Peter was still rambling on about the game and what it entailed, but Miguel wasn’t listening. He was debating on what to do, what to decide…

But he knew what his answer would be…

“I know you believe games like this are childish and we are like grown ass adults now, but live a little Miguel.” Peter rambled, whilst rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. “So, what do you say-

“Fine.” Miguel hastily responded, turning his amber eyes back onto Peter. “Come on Miguel, you can’t just- Wait what!?” Peter exclaimed in disbelief, believing that it would've been harder to get the stern male to comply with the game idea. 

“Don’t make me say it again.” Miguel groaned, downing the rest of his beer bottle before placing it onto the table behind him, and turning back to Peter.

“So are we going or not?” 

You sat beside Gwen in a circle of chairs with a lone, empty bottle on a table in the center.

Nervously, you bit your scarlet lip, your hands clenched into tight fists on your bare thighs, which were covered in fishnet stockings. 

Your eyes shifted, taking in the other players participating in the Spin the Bottle game: Margo, MJ, Miles, and Hobie. Two vacant chairs stood in front of you and Gwen as she sighed heavily. "Gosh, when are we going to start?!" She exclaimed, causing Hobie to chuckle beside her, glancing over at the empty chairs as well.

"Seems as if there are others coming, Gwendy. Have more patience." He snickered, a black mask perched on top of his thick, black hair. The mask had eerie stitching over the eyes and mouth, illuminated by a neon light that flickers between red and blue emanating from the stitches. It bore a striking resemblance to a famous movie in which all rules and restrictions were abandoned, and the world embraced murder and other crimes. Surprisingly, it was a fitting choice for Hobie's personality. With the mask, Hobie wore all black which paired well with the mask.

“It’s supposed to be Peter coming. I don’t know where he is.” MJ said with a groan, a pink cowgirl outfit dressing her being. 

"Yeah… Peter can be a real social butterfly," Miles retorted to your right, donned in a pirate costume, complete with a long leather coat, a waist sash, a cross belt filled with artificial pistols, heavy black boots, and a black pirate hat covering his head.

You stole a glance at Gwen with a small smile to see her trying not to make eye contact with the ebony-skinned male to your right. You knew Gwen had a thing for Miles, just like she knew you had a thing for Miguel.

"But if you know Peter, you know it's easy for him to get swept up in the crowd," MJ said with a grin, her red hair flowing over her shoulders from under her pink cowgirl hat. “He's always eager to introduce our daughter to anyone and everyone. I swear, his love for her knows no bounds." Laughter filled the room, and small conversations started among the guests, but you were too nervous to engage in the banter.

Margo turned her attention to you, her purple skin glowing under her sheriff's cap, and black shades, her body dressed in a dark blue, police officer costume. She pulled down her shades, her amber eyes looking you up and down before she greeted you, extending her gloved hand. Timidly, you offered a smile and shook her hand firmly. "N-Nice to meet you," you stammered. Margo grinned happily. "Nice to meet you too, but why so tense?" she asked, tilting her head. "It's a party. You've got to relax a little, girl," Margo added with a giggle, prompting you to sigh.

"I... I know, I'm just not used to parties, and I've discovered that someone is here whom I wish weren't... Now, my nervousness has only…heightened." Margo nodded, understanding your situation.

"You don't have anything to worry about. The people you see in this circle are the best of the best in the Spider Society."

"Don't forget Jessica!" Gwen chimed in, causing Margo to giggle. "Jessica too," Margo acknowledged before turning her shaded eyes back to you. You smiled, glancing around the circle once more through your black mask before meeting Margo's eyes. Her words provided you with some comfort. "Thank you, Margo," you said. 

"Anytime," she replied, though her eyes still lingered on you. Your eyebrows furrowed, prompting her to sigh.

"I... wasn't going to ask, but something you said piqued my interest."

"What?" You asked in curiosity and confusion. She scooted closer, lowering her voice.

"I was just wondering... who is it?" She asked, which only made you even more perplexed. "W-who is what?"

"Who is here at the party that is making you so nervous?" She asked more clearly, causing your eyes to briefly widen behind your mask. A lump formed in your throat as, simultaneously, the doors to the guest bedroom burst open.

"We’re here! We’re here!" Peter exclaimed, stepping inside with his clown mask drawn up to rest on the top of his head. "Finally!" Gwen said beside you, causing a laugh to escape Peter’s lips. "Whatever, bubblegum hair. MJ wanted me to bring another player for the game, so I did."

Gwen rolled her eyes at the nickname as everyone waited patiently to see the new player in the Spin The Bottle game. Peter peered out the doorway and beckoned with his head at the newcomer.

"Come on in, buddy." A deep sigh was heard as heavy footsteps echoed on the polished floor. It wasn’t long before the identity of the newcomer was revealed, and your eyes widened behind your mask.

It was Miguel O’Hara...

Your heart quickened, your hands clenched tightly into fists in your lap. You couldn’t believe the sight before you.

Miguel stood alongside Peter, his tall and commanding presence accentuating his distinct magnetism. His massive, sculpted frame was emphasized by the snug scarlet button-up he wore, and the shimmering golden jewelry adorning his body only amplified his already breathtaking allure. Miguel was a living work of art, an embodiment of perfection with muscles that rippled with every move, from the chiseled contours of his face down to his powerful, well-defined legs. His striking features, framed by dark, tousled hair, left no room for imperfection, making him an irresistible vision of masculinity and charm.

Hobie’s laughter snapped you from your trance, drawing everyone’s attention. "Hey mate, where’s your costume?" He asked Miguel teasingly as you looked over your shoulder at Miguel and Peter to see Miguel clench his jaw, his eyes flickering red in anger.

“Hey, hey. Settle down,” Peter said, trying to calm the situation. “Yeah, let’s play the game now.” Gwen begged as Miguel and Peter began to make their way to the empty chairs in front of you. 

You tried your hardest to keep your gaze off the large, tanned male, but it was challenging with how attractive he looked, despite not making any effort to do so.

Miguel took the seat right in front of you, his amber eyes scrutinizing your appearance.

'Damn, you are even better up close.'

He thought to himself, taking the time for his eyes to trail over your every being. His breathing became heavier, his eyes flashing red in arousal as he continued to look at you.

“Okay, now that everyone is here,” MJ began with a smile. “Let’s start!” A round of cheers emerged from the players, but you and Miguel were silent. You, trying your hardest to keep your gaze on your lap and calm your racing heart, and Miguel instilling every action and look you made into his brain.

After a while of decision, a choice was made for Miles to go first. “Well, I hope I make a good spin,” he chuckled, leaning over to give the empty wine bottle a spin.

Everyone was on the edge of their seats as the bottle soon slowed down to land on Margo. She smirked, looking beside her at Miles. “Guess I’m the lucky candidate,” she chuckled as Miles leaned over to pick out a small slip of folded paper in a bowl on a nearby table. He opened it and began to read aloud either a challenge or a deep question that had to be answered by the chosen player. 

“Okay Margo, my paper says, 'Who in the room do you think has the best sense of humor?'”

Your eyes glanced around the circle, wondering who would be a good choice for the question. 

You were honestly stuck between Hobie and Peter. They both, in their own way, were funny guys, but you wondered what Margo would choose. 

She looked around the circle with a grin. “That’s an easy question…” she hummed when a mischievous smile spread across her lips.

“Me.”

The room erupted in groans and laughs. You giggled, and when you glanced up, you saw Miguel looking back at you, a faint smile on his lips. You blushed and looked away, but Peter couldn’t resist chiming in. “Oh, come on! I know you were thinking of me, weren't you, Margo?”

“To be honest, no,” Margo laughed, causing another round of laughter to erupt and Peter to pout. MJ smiled, running a soothing hand through his hair. “You can’t be chosen for everything, baby,” she consoled Peter as the game continued.

“Who’s next!?” Gwen exclaimed, her excitement evident, eager to join the game. “It’s Margo's turn. Whoever the bottle lands on goes next,” MJ explained, leaving Gwen with a slight pout.

You gave her a small smile and patted her arm, speaking timidly. “I-It’ll be your turn soon.” Gwen nodded before a huge grin spread across her lips. Your eyebrows furrowed at the sight.

“I honestly can’t wait until it’s your turn. You might get to do something a little cheeky with—”

“D-Don’t say that!” You exclaimed in a hushed tone, causing her to laugh. “I-I already couldn’t function before, and now that…he’s here, I-I just can’t.” You said quietly. Gwen smirked, patting your thigh. “It’s called being highly attracted to someone. I get it too.”

“B-but I can’t…h-he doesn’t even like me,” you said sadly, biting your lip. Gwen shrugged her shoulders with a smile. “How do you know? You’ve never asked him.”

Gwen was right; you’ve never asked Miguel if he was interested in you or not, but Miguel is honestly an unapproachable person. He’s so very intimidating and indecipherable that it’s scary talking to him even for normal, simple things.

Just the thought of coming to him asking if he, the Spider Society leader, has a thing for you, a spider woman who becomes a total klutz around him.

You couldn't bear the thought of what he might say…

You breathed a sigh as Gwen’s eyebrows furrowed. She shook her head, placing a reassuring hand on your arm. “Hey…don’t worry about that right now. Let’s just enjoy the game.” You smiled softly at her before turning your attention back onto the game to hear Peter talking about Mayday. 

“-And that’s when I knew my daughter was going to be just like me, so that’s why I choose Mayday as the person who I'll switch places with for a week.” 

A series of groans erupted after Peter’s words.

But Miguel was only half-listening...

His attention had been diverted by your quiet conversation with your best friend, Gwen, which he couldn't help but overhear due to his enhanced hearing.

'Who is my sexy gatita talking about?' 

He wondered, his amber eyes subtly scanning your figure as he caught the tail end of Peter’s words. Miguel groaned at the sound of Peter mentioning his daughter once again, his focus returning to the game as he sat with one ankle resting on top of the opposite knee.

He was well aware that one of these questions would inevitably trigger Peter to launch into a monologue about his beloved daughter. It wasn't that Miguel had any ill feelings towards Mayday, the young child was perfectly fine. It was Peter's ceaseless chatter about his daughter that grated on Miguel's nerves. 

He understood it stemmed from Peter's boundless love for his family, but there came a time when even love had its limits.

"Must you always talk about Mayday?" Miguel's deep voice resonated through the room, bringing the ongoing chatter to a halt. His presence, let alone his voice, held so much power that it silenced everyone in the room, their eyes focused on him. His amber eyes surveyed the others before settling on Peter. Peter heaved a heavy sigh, waving a dismissive hand at Miguel. "You'll understand when you experience even a fraction of unconditional love for someone. Then, you'll comprehend how I feel about my daughter and loving wife," he explained. MJ rolled her eyes, a smirk playing on her pink lips at her husband’s words.

Miguel’s eyes flickered over to you who was gazing at Peter and MJ. He couldn’t help but wonder if this was what he was feeling about you…

Love…

Or lust

“Can we continue?” Hobie chimed in, his dark brown eyes looking between Miguel and Peter. “I’m ready for some spicy stuff.” 

"I... didn't add anything like that to the bowl, Hobie," MJ stated honestly, prompting Hobie to groan and run a frustrated hand over his ebony face. "Come on!? Really!?" he exclaimed, his British accent thick in his voice. "Then let's make up our own then. Fuck the bowl!" He announced, his dark brown eyes scanning the circle.

Your cheeks flushed with nervousness at Hobie's suggestion. You glanced at Gwen, who was smirking mischievously at you. "Yeah, I agree, forget the bowl."

In that moment, you wished you could disappear.

'Why, oh why, are you doing this, Gwen!?' 

You thought, your black heeled boot tapping nervously on the floor as you bit your reddened lip.

Miguel experienced a rush of mixed emotions at Hobie's words. The change in the rules was unexpected and filled him with a sense of dread, but it also...

Stirred a sense of excitement...

His eyes drifted to you, your anxiety palpable. He still didn't know your name, but he was eager to do anything with you at this point.

He didn't know what excited him more...

Your alluring costume, accentuating every aspect of your exquisite figure and curves...

Or your shyness, which was so cute that it warmed his heart.

Miguel sighed, briefly torn between the two enticing qualities. Nevertheless, he shifted his focus back to the game, noticing that the majority of the circle had agreed to the new rules. As Peter spun the empty bottle on the table, you were a bundle of nerves, your heart pounding loudly in your chest.

Relief washed over you when the bottle didn't land on you. 

Instead, it pointed directly at Hobie.

Hobie, his lips adorned with a silver ring, broke into a confident smirk upon being chosen by the wine bottle. "Hell yeah. Now we're talking!" he exclaimed, turning his gaze to Peter. "Give me a good one, mate." Peter chuckled and, playfully, teased everyone by drawing out the moment.

MJ smacked his arm in mock irritation. "Stop playing around," she giggled, causing Peter to join in the laughter. Finally, he relented and posed a question to Hobie. "You wanted a good one, so I'll ask a question."

Hobie leaned back in his chair, a mischievous grin adorning his face. "Lay it on me," he said confidently.

"Share with the lovely players and myself a secret turn-on of yours that you've never told anyone," 

Hobie's eyebrows rose for a brief second at Peter's unexpecting question, but his smirk widened. This was a question you hadn't anticipated, but now that it was on the table, you couldn't help but lean around Gwen to get a closer look at Hobie, waiting with bated breath for his response.

"I'm really into teasing."

Some people's eyes widened at the nonchalance in his voice. Hobie chuckled at the sight of the stunned reactions. "Don't look at me like that," he snickered, biting his lip ring. "Let me tell you what I mean by... teasing... for the uneducated ones," he teased, glancing over at Miles, who scoffed and rolled his eyes.

Hobie looked around the circle, his voice becoming hushed and alluring as he spoke. "I'm talking about the type of teasing that is so good and blissful, yet so wicked and cruel," he explained. He leaned closer, propping his elbows onto his knees, his intense amber eyes fixing on each individual in the circle. His words drew everyone in, making them feel the intensity of his desires.

"The type of teasing that delays the main event. That has you sexually frustrated and begging your lover to continue...

To do...

More..."

He paused, allowing his words to hang in the air for a moment. 

"Do you all catch my drift?"

Silence filled the guest room, and you felt your mouth go dry. You bit your lip, your body heating up. Hobie's enticing words filled your mind with lewd thoughts of Miguel.

Him teasing you with his tongue and fangs.

Touching you with his large, veiny hands,

Whispering naughty things into your ear...

You squeezed your thighs together in your seat, blushing a little. When you briefly glanced at Miguel, he met your eyes with his crimson ones. You quickly looked down at your lap.

"O-kay!" Miles exclaimed, clasping his gloved hands together. "Sounds spicy. On to the next," he said with a polite smile. Hobie settled back in his seat, wearing a satisfied expression as if he had just earned a hard-fought reward. "Thank you for joining my Ted Talk," he quipped.

Laughter erupted after Hobie's joke, and the atmosphere became more comfortable as the game continued.

"Alright, spin that bottle!" Margo exclaimed loudly as Hobie spun it, causing the black bottle to twirl at such a fast pace that it was almost dizzying to watch.

All eyes were fixed on the spinning wine bottle, and it ultimately pointed towards Gwen. Hobie brushed his tongue along his lip ring, his gaze locked onto the twenty-one-year-old girl. "What shall I give you, Gwendy? Hmm?" he smirked, earning an eye roll from Gwen. "Come on, Hobie, stop playing around," she giggled, bringing a smile to Hobie's lips. "Fine, I've got one."

"What's the kinkiest thing you've ever done or would like to do, little drummer?"

A smile spread across Gwen's lips as she twirled her witch broomstick in her fingers, her gaze scanning the room. You knew there was more to Gwen than met the eye. She was an adventurous person who likely had a lot of experiences you weren't aware of, leaving you in the dark about her answer.

"I'd say a kink I'd like to try is exhibitionism."

Your eyes widened behind your mask at Gwen's words. She wanted to engage in sensual activities in public!? 

The very thought made you nervous, but you could see why it would be alluring and incredibly tempting…

Especially with Miguel. 

Your mind went into overdrive, imagining all the places where you and Miguel could get a little frisky.

The Spider Society's library,

The gym,

Under the table in the cafeteria.

The possibilities seemed endless, and just the thought of Miguel being your partner in such endeavors was enough to send shivers down your spine and make you wet with desire.

Miguel's eyes instantly snapped to you. Throughout the game, he had sensed something—an arousal that stood out to him like a sore thumb, but he couldn't quite pinpoint the source. 

Now, he did…

His eyes reddened as he noticed your thighs squeezed tightly together. To a regular person, your action might have gone unnoticed, but not for Miguel…

He practically smelled your sweet nectar, a subtle but alluring scent that went straight to his cock. It stirred his arousal, and his member began to slowly harden beneath his black slacks, the fabric tightening around his growing desire. 

He bit his lip harshly, his fangs sinking into his flesh, as he wanted nothing more than to grasp your soft thighs in his hands, part your legs, and taste just how sweet your essence truly was…

A low, involuntary groan escaped him as he fought to contain his desire. He pulled his ankle higher up his opposite knee, trying to hide his growing excitement. 

"Oh really, Gwendy?" Hobie teased, drawing everyone's attention back to the game. Gwen waved her hand dismissively at him. "That's all you get," she laughed before looking down at the bottle. "Finally! Now I can spin!" She shot you a mischievous glance before giving the bottle a spin.

You knew that look Gwen had given you. 

She was hoping it would land on you. 

Your heart started to race as you bit your lips anxiously, your legs bouncing nervously, increasing in speed whilst you watched the bottle slowly come to a stop. 

It was like Gwen had powers other than her spider abilities..

Because it happened…

The bottle landed on you.

Your heart sank as the bottle pointed at you, and you found yourself in the hot seat. You turned your eyes to Gwen, who was already smirking back at you, clearly delighted that the bottle had chosen you.

"Finally, it's your turn to take the hot seat, Y/N."

Your name...

Miguel had finally learned it.

‘Y/N,’ he repeated in his head, his flickering red eyes studying you with newfound interest, then it all clicked into place… 

"Y/N!? 

As in the clumsy and timid Spiderwoman?!"

His intense gaze roved up and down your form as if he couldn't believe his eyes. The nerdy woman he had welcomed into the society not too long ago turned out to be a stunning model underneath it all, and it took his breath away.

The more he looked at you, he still couldn't wrap his head around the fact that the same girl who continually spilled her coffee in the mornings and dropped her Goober burger during lunch looked like this.

If only he had seen you sooner...

He bit his lip, filled with anticipation, wondering what spicy question your friend would dare you to answer, because she wouldn't dare to push a shy, timid girl like you out of your comfort zone... 

Right?

You silently begged Gwen with your eyes, hoping she wouldn't put you in an uncomfortable situation; however, Gwen had a knack for getting you out of your shell and right into the scorching, hot seat…

"Y/N, I dare you to share a passionate kiss with Miguel for 30 seconds."

Your entire body seemed to freeze in shock, struggling to comprehend what Gwen had just asked of you. The room filled with surprised glances, and even a few cheers hinted at the anticipation that things were about to get interesting. You gulped, turning your gaze to Miguel. Amid the cheers of the players, his carmine orbs locked with yours. While his expression remained stern, his eyes held an enigmatic allure, something you couldn't quite define, yet it drew you in nonetheless.

"Why Miguel?" Margo inquired with a chuckle, snapping you from your trance. Your heart was thumping rapidly in your chest at what Gwen’s response could be, but you should have known that Gwen always had a trick up her sleeve. 

After all, she was a master of manipulation...

"The two of them have been rather quiet. I thought it'd help loosen their nerves," Gwen explained, her words met with sounds of approval and agreement from the guests, only serving to deepen the scarlet hue on your cheeks.

You locked eyes with Miguel once more, finding a small smirk gracing his lips. His amber eyes shifted to a deep crimson as he cleared his throat, lowering his legs to the floor and leaning back in his chair, welcoming you with his body language.

"Well then, let's go, Y/N!" Margo exclaimed, joining the chorus of encouragement as peer pressure began to take hold. The room filled with voices urging you on, and you sighed, unsteadily getting to your feet. 

"O-okay," you stammered, Miguel's eyes shifting to a deeper shade of red with each step you took.

Miguel was undeniably aroused by the situation. The mere sight of you walking toward him ignited a powerful desire to touch you to course through his veins.

"Sit on his lap, Y/N!" 

Gwen's shout from behind you only deepening your blush. You knew that if you didn't do what Gwen said, she'd tease you relentlessly for the rest of the night. You approached Miguel with a pounding heart and a timid demeanor.

"I-is that okay?" you stammered, your voice thick with shyness. "I-if I sit in your lap?"

Miguel couldn't help but smile, a sly grin spreading across his tanned lips. Your bashful words only exciting him further. "If you'd like," he huskily answered, parting his legs to welcome you. Your eyes couldn't help but trace his toned thighs beneath his black slacks.

You almost drooled at the sight…

A rush of newfound boldness surged through you as you climbed onto his lap, your legs resting on either side of his. Even in his seated position, Miguel's impressive height and strength were unmistakable. His body felt solid and muscular beneath you, and you couldn't help but gasp at how built he was.

You shakingly exhaled, nervous about what to do next. Your entire body was completely hot and the close proximity between Miguel and yourself wasn’t helping at all. 

You bit your lip, feeling his thighs pressing into your own and just the thought of his crotch against your bottom made you blush even more.  Miguel smirked up at you, the telltale signs of your anxiety evident. He gently took your chin in his thick fingers, lifting it for your eyes to meet his red ones. "Just focus on me, Cariño," he whispered, his eyes carefully tracing your face whist his thumb caressed your jaw. "It's just a challenge." He reassured.

A charming smile played on his lips, his sharp canines catching the light and capturing your attention as he spoke. The sight of his redden orbs, sharp teeth, touch and words only made your body burn up. His demeanor and actions were very unexpected. Your breath catching in your throat and your heart racing at his gentleness.

Miguel was mostly cold and distant toward you, unable to maintain eye contact before a clumsy mistake left him cursing under his breath and looking away in annoyance and second-hand embarrassment. So, the idea of receiving comforting words and his feather-like touch was something you could only dream about, unable to believe it could ever be real.

You gulped, feeling as though the entire world had disappeared in that electrifying moment, leaving just you and Miguel. Shakingly, you nodded, causing Miguel's smirk to deepen.

The sizzling intensity in your gaze was matched by Miguel's as you began to lean closer, your lips tantalizingly close to each other. The anticipation was palpable, with an overwhelming longing and yearning building between the two of you.

As you drew nearer, that longing and eagerness swelled, breaking free of restraint. Finally, your lips met in a passionate, searing kiss that took you both by surprise. A soft moan escaped you, his lips, surprisingly soft and inviting, met yours, contrasting with his usual cold and grumpy demeanor.

With each passing moment, your initial shyness melted away, replaced by newfound boldness. Your fingers tangled in his dark brown curls, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss. Miguel groaned, his large hand finding its way to the small of your back, pulling you tightly against him and pressing your bodies together. The heat radiating between you was almost tangible, your tongues, engaged in a fiery dance, igniting sensations that satisfied a profound hunger you both hadn't known existed.

Lost in each other, the world around you faded into oblivion. The 30 seconds allotted for the challenge came and went, but you and Miguel continued with your passionate exchange. Heavy breaths mingled, your focus remained solely on each other as desire burned hotter with every passing second.

A surprised moan escaped your lips when you felt Miguel's large hand grope your ass through your leopard costume. His thick fingers pressing into the flesh that made you even more blinded by lust for him.

He grinned against your swollen lips at your cute reaction, spurring his desire even further. The two of you continuing to kiss hungrily, his fangs occasionally nipping your lips, intensifying your craving for him which only caused you to pull him closer with much fervor…

…

..

.

"Damn! They are still at it!" 

Hobie's exclamation brought you back to reality, and you realized the audience that had been watching your heated exchange. You hastily pulled away from Miguel's lips, his intense gaze and smirking, bitten lips reflecting his lust for more. Your body felt hot and flustered, and you were acutely aware of the places he had touched you, especially your bottom.

Feeling your embarrassment and regret, you quickly climbed off Miguel's lap and returned to your seat, keeping your gaze down to avoid meeting anyone's eyes.

The thought of kissing the leader of the Spider Society in front of everyone weighed heavily on your mind, and you questioned your decision to participate in this game, let alone, come to this party. 

Gwen glanced over at you and Miguel, a smile spreading across her face as she then started back up the game to get you out of the hot seat. She even spun for you, but no one could ignore the obvious tension in the air.

Miguel's crimson eyes, blown with lust continuously met your timid form, a sly grin spreading across his lips the longer he stared at you.  

He had plans for his sexy, timid gatita, plans that would push you to step out of your comfort zones and embrace the desires that had ignited between the two of you...

A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed Part 1 of the Halloween Special. Stay tuned for part 2! 🕸️😁👻🕸️

(*All rights reserved. DO NOT repost/translate/copy any of my work.*)

#miguel o'hara #spider man 2099 #across the spiderverse #the blue panther #miguel ohara #miguel #miguel smut #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel x fem!reader #miguel x reader smut #miguel x reader #miguel x y/n #miguel x you #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 #spiderman ats

[oreosmilkshakes]

Heavenly Promises

Summary: Witness the coming of a new era between Wakanda and Talokan with the matrimony between you and Namor.

Pairing: Namor/K’uk’ulkan x reader

Fandom: Marvel- Black Panther Wakanda Forever

Word Count: 1,227

Warning(s): Fluff, fluff and more fluff :D

A/N: I did a little research on what a Wakandan wedding is supposed to be like and I lifted a little inspiration from T’Challa and Ororo Munroe’s wedding in the comics. You can also see my terrible knowledge about royal stuff ;-;. Also, the language reader speaks is Xhosa. But here is the mini sequel (and final!) to Pulchritudinous Promise that everyone wanted! Enjoy and comments appreciated!   A/N 2: Should I put my header in my fics or nah? I feel it defeats the purpose of putting a pretty gif of the character tho...

To part 1: Pulchritudinous Promises

Taglist: NIL

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

The cool breeze shook tall, green trees lightly. The sound of leaves rustling combined with waves crashing lightly against the sandy shores were music to [Name]’s ears. She slowly leaned back on the makeshift hammock, feet and back aching. She adjusted the low ends of her sun dress, heaving a tired sigh. A hammock wasn’t the best place to rest but it was the best she had for the moment. Before K’uk’ulkan would come and retrieve her. Nearby, Talokanil and Wakandan warriors stood guard, eyes sharp with weapons in hand, ready to attack any intruders that dared to get close.

[Name]’s eyes glanced up to the tall palm trees shading her from the warm sun. She was thankful for it. Her dress was starting to cling to her damp skin. Her muscles eased, hands clasped together as she gave in. She allowed her mind to drift and it drifted far indeed. Her thoughts brought up past memories, specifically, her coming-together with Talokan’s King.

[Name]’s lips pursed, anxiety clouded her mind as she watched her maidens whizzing around the room, ensuring her wedding wear was ready. Shuri was finishing up on her cap, its colour a shade of black, gold and blue with a splash of emerald green, the material was soft vibranium. She could see herself in the mirror, donning her Black Panther suit. But it was different. It was decorated with emerald green, representing Talokan’s side. She had to admit, it was the perfect addition to her vibranium suit. A maiden brought over her necklace, jewels decorated each chain and a large gem in the middle that sat above her breasts.

A loud sigh left her lips and that took Shuri’s attention away from the cape and to her sister.

“Sister, what’s wrong?” The young princess smoothed out the fur on the cape before approaching the older woman. [Name] looked up at her sister, gloved hand touching the large, green Jade that sat on her chest. “Just nervous,” “Nervous? Why are you nervous, sister? This is a happy day, a day that will be remembered by our future predecessors,” Shuri pulled a chair, sitting beside [Name].

“I know, Shuri. But this wedding..I’m getting married, Shuri. There is so much I have thought about. Like, how often will I see you and Mother? Or will Wakanda be safe if I’m not around during the six months. Or..What if I can’t be the perfect wife to K’uk’ulkan?” She looked up at Shuri and the young princess had a sympathetic smile on her lips. Shuri took her sister’s hands, clutching it tightly.

“You love him, don’t you?” [Name] nodded slowly, biting her lower lip.

“And he loves you, sister. I know he does. I have seen the way he looks at you with each visit, sister and I know he loves you. You are the perfect woman for him and an amazing woman entirely. There is nothing to be nervous about and you don’t have to worry about Wakanda. I’m almost completing the Midnight Angels,” Shuri smiled brightly.

A knock came at the door and it squeaked open. “Princess [Name], Princess Shuri, the ceremony is about to begin,” A runner reminded. Shuri stood, grabbing the cape. The two maidens moved to pick up the long ends of the cape, moving with Shuri as she fastened the cape around her sister’s neck. [Name] had tears in her eyes, pulling her sister in for a hug as soon as she was done.

“Thank you…Shuri,”

Shuri let out a soft laugh, a growing lump in her throat as she felt hot tears pricked her own eyes.

“Now, let’s get this ceremony completed. I don’t know how long I must wear this dress,” She joked and [Name] laughed lightly.

[Name] could hear loud ceremonial music playing, interchanging between Wakandan and Talokanil. She could see K’uk’ulkan behind the eyes of her Black Panther helm. He was dressed gorgeously in his own ceremonial robes, which shared the colours of Wakanda. His wear was decorated with gold and jade jewels and almost instantly, her worries elevated. She could see Shuri beside Mother, who seemed to be holding back happy tears at the sight of her oldest daughter getting married. Her heart ached a little to see her mother’s tears but she knew it was for a joyful reason.

The ceremony went by like a blur, heavy drums played in the back with both Wakandan and Talokanil dancers moving to the beat. They didn’t need rings to showcase their marriage for their word and ritual was enough to bind both powerful beings together.

The helm retracted and slowly, [Name] looked up to face her new husband. She could hear faintly as the Elder Statesman announced, “Bast has blessed this couple! Pity anyone who would stand in the path of their happiness and their love. Now, let us celebrate this new merging between our two worlds!”

[Name] had both arms around K’uk’ulkan’s neck and the smile he wore on his lips was the biggest she had ever seen. She felt his strong hands snake around her waist, leaning in slowly.

“I am a very happy man, [Name]. My mother would have loved you,”

[Name] flushed darkly, lips pursed. “I know she would. I will love you to the stars beyond,” And the handsome smile that graced the King’s lips grew bigger.

“In yaakunech, in reina,” (I love you, my queen) K’uk’ulkan leaned down, slowly.

[Name] leaned up, lips barely brushing together. She could feel his warm breath fluttering her upper lip and felt her cheeks heat up.

“Ndiyakuthanda nam nkosi yam,” (I love you too, my king)

Their lips met in a deep kiss, surrounding cheers and music got louder but [Name] only focused on her husband and so did he.

K’uk’ulkan had done nothing but show her so much kindness and showered her with love and she did the same. She was welcomed with open arms into Talokan, the people took [Name] in as their new queen. When [Name] was crowned the new Queen of Wakanda, K’uk’ulkan became the royal consort, an honorary King. In her absence, her Mother would lead the kingdom, of course. The six-months agreement still stood but K’uk’ulkan had agreed to ease up that specific agreement.

Aside from that, [Name] could not ask for a better life. She had an island all for herself so she could live on land when she missed it. The island was protected by Wakandans and Talokanil warriors regularly while [Name] stayed in the little house, tending to herself while K’uk’ulkan was away for his own duties. But when he returned, they would always fill their house with love, the final touch to their marriage.

[Name] never stopped thanking Bast for this life she lived.

The sound of waves splashing hard against rocks pulled [Name] out of her trance. She turned her head, watching as K’uk’ulkan left the waters with his spear in hand. The woman smiled widely, carefully leaving her hammock to approach her husband. He leaned in, sharing a sweet kiss with his wife.

His hand moved to [Name]’s engorged belly, thumb caressing lovingly. [Name] clutched to K’uk’ulkan’s side as she leaned in to rest her forehead against his. He exhaled lightly, feeling a light kick to his palm.

“Welcome back, my king,”

“I have return, my queen, my princess,”

#marvel #marvel one shot #marvel imagines #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #namor #namor x reader #namor x fem!reader #namor x you #namor x y/n #mcu #mcu x reader #namor imagine #namor one shot #kukulkan #black panther 2 #black panther wakanda forever #tenoch huerta

[noirs-pages]

Diavolo 2

Summary: You’re in your side room, experimenting with potions to give to your pet Diavolo. You still hold to your thesis that these pets are behind a complex spell that holds their full potential back.

(I hate feeling tired. I’ve been feeling tired all that time. I need some form of stimulation! Perhaps I should record and narrate something?)

You’re not really one to keep up with local news, at least not the news that floats around in your old university. You still get emails from that place, not because of morbid curiosity but because you’re just too lazy to make them shut up. You graduated and you’re glad you did, but occasionally, when you see a header of a notification that relates to anything regarding your final thesis, you end up hissing in a breath and locking yourself up in your private room.

“Idiot,” you swiped at your phone, clearing the latest news of another mage being sent to the hospital because they messed with the spell, “Backlash. It’s on top of the fucking page, bold, all caps!”

If you don’t know what you’re doing, don’t mess with the spell! What it is with mages ignoring that warning? A spell that continues to thrive on the entire existence of these magical pets with absolutely no signs of decaying is one that can and will lash out if one goes about poking at it wrong.

And yet, those old arrogant mages back at your university, they had the audacity to blame these accidents on you just to save their own faces. It’s not your fault their apprentices died. That’s their own fucking fault for not doing proper safety procedures. They really thought their own magic were enough to ensure that.

With a puff of red smoke, your concoction in your mini cauldron was done. You sneezed before reaching in and pulling out a royal red gummy in the shape of a cut jewel.

“There we go, this should be good,” a beautiful replica of an accident you had that led you to your thesis, “Come over here Diavolo, I’m done!”

You can see the hypocrisy of your statement, trying to get this spell off of your own pet. However, those people are not you, nor are they Diavolo. They’re not the ones that spent years carefully studying the layers upon layers of this species wide spell. You know what can and cannot be messed with, and Diavolo knows how to redirect backlash away from everyone.

Besides, Solomon is waiting by the door in case something ticks off his senses. You have many emergency buttons at the ready.

At your call, Diavolo eagerly turned away from the window and flapped right to your shoulder. You let reached out a palm and set him right on the ground.

“Just a small bite, okay?” You waved the treat in front of your nose. Diavolo sniffed it before taking a most delicate bite.

In just three chews, the sound of chains shattering echoed around you. The air, once cool and flowing, became heavy with both the sharp sting of magic and heat. A familiar burn, one that never fails to remind you of a broiling volcano.

You stepped back just as Diavolo glowed white. His form expanded, wings stretching out until they took up the length of your room.

The cocoon of heat only got stronger when the light show finally stopped. You stare up to gold eyes, glowing as his form nearly reached the ceiling.

“Yup,” you crossed your arms, leaning back, “still as big as ever." And bare. You really need to prepare a towel or something if this stays permanent. "You doing alright, Diavolo? Think you can say a few words for me?”

A large huff of breath sweeping over you was all the warning you got before he lowered his muscled form as much as he could under your chin. His wings fluttered when you scratched his head, knocking over some plastic bottles. He closed his eyes, clearly ready to go to sleep.

And not a single word came out of his mouth. Only a heavy clicking from his throat.

From outside your door, you heard Solomon ask, “Well? Did it work?”

You airily laughed. “Nope, another failure. Couldn’t get rid of that lock over his mind.”

As such, it will only be a matter of time before the spell fixes itself and makes this affectionate Diavolo small again. Back to the drawing board with you.

#obey me #omswd #nightbringer #noir's pages #noir's pages exclusive #drabble #diavolo #demon lord's castle #(om) house pet au #reader insert

[mandiemegatron]

Please please please tell me your favorite Doffy headcannons I am dying to know!

Thank you for being here omg!

I LOVE U SO MUCH ANON, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS QUESTION 🤭🤭🤭💖💖💖

Header by ; @baka-tsuki // @baka-tsuki-2 ♡

『☼』 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜 『☼』

♡ even though you say "I love you" first, Doflamingo always goes above and beyond to show you how much he truly appreciates your love. Showering you in gifts is number one - necklaces, mostly. Gold, sterling silver - your choice, as long as you wear it for him the second he gifts it to you. Never gaudy or over the top, more simple but gorgeous, usually accompanied with tiny precious gemstones. Your favourite one is a simple, thin gold chain with a small gold circle, the Donquixote Crest stamped onto it. [He internally loses it everytime you wear it, especially if it's out and about or to a not so important meeting. Seeing you wear his crest with pride makes him feel absolutely feral]

♡ Doflamingo always, always, always makes time for you, no matter how much he has on his plate. Whether it be first thing in the morning or right before bed, he always makes sure to kiss you at least once a day. While for some that may not seem like much, but to you, it's more than enough. You know how busy and important he is and understand why he can't be with you every second of the day, which he shows appreciation by fucking you senseless the moment he can. This man will give up a night's rest to not only fuck you but make love to you, at least as best he can. You both know he's broken, unfamiliar with love as a whole but that doesn't deter you at all, showing him just how wonderful genuine love and affection is.

♡ He loves having you in his lap when he's doing paperwork. He's got a lot of it, so be sure to bring a book. Most times, Doflamingo demands you wear a dress or skirt with no panties, so he can run his fingers over your soaked cunt whenever he wishes. Nothing makes the man cackle more than making you fall apart in his lap while doing the most boring duties, bringing you over the edge at least twice before stuffing his cock into you, roughly pressing your front into his desk as he takes you from behind.

♡ Doflamingo loves when you wash his hair and body. The man has a worship kink, deeming himself a God worthy of adoration and you are more than happy and willing to service him however he chooses. It's such a soft, intimate moment when he brings you into the tub room with him, sinking into the almost pool sized bath and pulling you against him. You cling to him and he kisses you, over and over, everywhere on your face. This is the only time you see him without his glasses, your fingers following the same routine everytime of brushing over his face lovingly, thumb gently dancing under his blind eye which he closes. It's the only time he tells you he loves you, the words soft and near non-existent. It's like he worries It's all a dream and if he says it too loud, the dream will collapse. You don't mind, simply returning kisses over and over as you tell him the same.

♡ Doflamingo gets incredibly jealous wicked fast. A lowly servant speaking to you for too long? Off with their head. A patron in the bar trying to catch your attention? He'll scoop you up and devour your lips right in front of them before ending their existence. If you try to make him jealous on purpose, he'll punish you then and there, pushing your skirt up and pressing long fingers into you, not caring if you're in public or not. You're his and his alone, and everyone is going to know that somehow. Jealousy sex is painful, almost too much and overwhelming to the point you're sobbing, begging for him to either let you cum or to stop. He'll have you over-fucked to the point you can't speak as he fucks you from behind, eyes rolled back and drooling - its his second favourite position.

♡ His favourite position is you on top, titties bouncing and fingers digging into his sculpted chest and stomach, nails leaving angry red lines over his tanned skin. Doflamingo loves to dig his fingers into your hips, leaving bruises and aching bones behind. There's nothing that fuels his ego more than seeing you unable to walk after a long session, summoning threads to wrap around you and help you walk to the washroom. He's warm and only slightly sweaty every time, his hold incredibly tight around you when you return. He loves watching you curl into him, feeling like a cage trapping a song bird, one that was made just for him.

There are few things in this world that Doflamingo truly loves - and you are one of them.

#; in mandies mind / headcanons #ok to rb #one piece #one piece headcanons #doflamingo headcanons #Donquixote Doflamingo #🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭 I LOVED THIS !!! #this was so much fun UGH i love my mans so much !!!!

[aurora-daily]

A new exclusive merch line has dropped earlier today!

Dedicated to the newsletter subscribers and available for 24 hours only (by the moment of writing this post even less), this merchline designed by AURORA (this lettering we have already seen in the header of her official store earlier this year) consists of several positions:

1. Warriors & Weirdos dagger stamped iron enamel badge (40mm). Fitted with a butterfly clutch pin.

2. 18k gold plated 925 sterling silver Aurora Warriors & Weirdos Dagger Necklace. Beautifully made in Hatton Garden, the heart of London’s jewellery district - these pendants are made from recycled 925 sterling silver, plated in 18k gold.

Each pendant is 3cm in height and is paired with 20” 18k gold plated sterling silver box chain and presented in a gold foiled faux suede pouch.

3. Aurora Warriors & Weirdos Arrows Cap with the red embroidery. Beige 6-panel low profile cap. 100% chino cotton.

[available via link]

The merch will be shipped since September 22

#aurora #aurora aksnes #merch #newsletter

[pet-slut-chrissy]

Your husband, exactly how clueless is he? Your header says you're collared, do you have a collar that you hide from him? He doesn't notice you on your phone looking at Tumblr?

He’s several years older than me, a workoholic, and he’s more interested in golf.. I have both a gold chain necklace with a very tiny padlock (to hold together my “broken” chain 😉) and an ankle bracelet with a padlock as my 24/7 collars.. and of course I have a beautiful leather play collar that he has never seen. I am very discreet on my phone and iPad, but he thinks I am doing facebook crosswords and other puzzles. Thank you for the ask

[milflewis]

oh gimme a schumilton date

ok so it got a little too long to just leave it free so it’s under the cut. not quite a date date but a maybe date. a possibility of one

“What about a date?”

Lewis hums, rolling up his towel and shoving it into his suitcase. “What?”

Mick leans back into the couch cushions, stretching out his legs in front of him, feet crossed at the ankles, until his back clicks softly. “A date. You said you had a few days free during the week after this triple header and were looking for something to do. That’s something to do.”

Lewis walks over to his bedside locker, unplugging his charger and throwing the plug onto the bed. He squints at Mick, backlit by the setting sun, hair glowing light at the edges, all blurry and smudged.

It’s getting late. They still have a race tomorrow after all. Mick should leave soon. Go back to his own room. Call his mom. Pack up his own stuff. He slouches further into the sofa, biting his cheek when Lewis’s eyes flicker down to his lap and back up again.

“A date.”

Lewis is smiling now, eyebrows raised, amused, if not a little confused. It’s more endearing than it should be. Though, Mick considers, the thought soft and aching, that’s just Lewis, isn’t it? He just sort of sneaks up on you.

“A date.”

Lewis starts wrapping the charger cord around his knuckles, god, pursing his mouth as he thinks. “Okay,” he says eventually, drawing out the ‘ay’. “With who? Anyone in mind or am I supposed to just wander around a shop or something and pick someone?”

Mick laughs, more at the thought of Lewis Hamilton thinking that he needs to look for a date when there is at least a dozen people in the paddock alone who’d drop everything at a moments notice for a date with him than anything else. Lewis’s smile softens, fingers tightening around his phone charger before flexing.

He waits until Lewis has turned back to his suitcase before, “With me.”

“The date,” he swallows, throat dry, palms flat on his knees. “It could be with me. If you want.”

Lewis doesn’t say anything for a long moment, sun dipping low enough that Mick can no longer see it from where he’s sitting. Lewis’s shoulders shift under his knit jumper, arms bare, as he breathes in deep. “Yeah?” Lewis asks, calm and easy, tucking his toiletries in beside his socks. “You sure?”

“Yes,” Mick says and then, because he thinks Lewis might need to hear it, “I’m sure.”

Lewis’s grin is loud as he says, “Okay, then I guess I’m not free after all.”

“No?” Mick asks, pressing his fingers against his mouth. Lewis moves, leaning back against the bed, facing Mick now, smile pushing into his eyes.

“Nope.” His necklace is untucked from the collar of his jumper, gold chain winking dimly. “Turns out I’ve got a date.”

#does this make up for the angsty one earlier :)) #schumilton #stuff i wrote #kyle tag #niamh.asks #fic.asks

[lvciethorn]

BOOK HEADER  JESSE BLACKTHORN & LUCIE HERONDALE - THE LAST HOURS No son muy diferentes entre si, pero quería compartirlos. Los textos fueron sacados del primer libro en la trilogía TLH - Chain of gold. 

( Like or reblog if you save )

Twitter @lvciethorn 

#book #book header #headers #icon #the last hours #chain of gold #chain of iron #chain of thorns #cassandra clare #jesse blackthorn #blackthorn #lucie herondale #herondale #tlh #twitter

[kaciidubs]

So after I regained some of my sanity after writing a Lee know smut I went to Pinterest to look for pictures for the header and THEN I SAW THESE PICS OF CHAN AND HOLY LORD

I AM (S)CREAMING, CRYING AND CHEWING MY PILLOWS BECAUSE LOOK AT HIS ARMS AND WHEN I TELL YOU CHAN KNOWS EXACTLY WHAT HES DOING… please I just wanna mark his pretty skin I can’t it’s a need 😔 ALSO BLACK HAIRED MINHO 🫠🫠🫠

BLACK HAIRED MINHO!!!! AND ALSO DARK CHERRY CHAN??? LOOK AT THIS FUCKING SHOULDERS, HIS NECK WITH THAT FUCKING GOLD CHAIN!!!!! OOOOOOH THE THINGS I WANT TO DO TO HIM

#✧. ┊ kacii answers #✧. ┊ lovely chqnverse

[industria-adastra]

Your face is ocean blue

Summary: History says there was once a saintly emperor, driven to madness in his grief.

History says the empire lost its star, and so followed their Sun.

No one understood how it came to be this way. --- Notes: Hey I said Claude was allowed to commit atrocities as a treat. Also I just slapped that header on because I thought it looked cool. ------

When he awoke, Claude felt a sense of foreboding hanging in the air—a guillotine, ready to come crashing down at any moment.

His head hurt, fuzzy and clear all at the same time. Despite being comatose for so long, one would think he’d be wide awake immediately after this curse was broken. But all Claude felt was a weight, pulling him down, down, down. Even his eyelids continued to press downward, threatening to put him back into his previous slumber.

Athanasia. He felt her then. She and her mana, unraveling the chains binding him to Hypnos’ realm. Athanasia was so deeply entrenched in danger with his idiotic older brother and that white dog. And the accusations that Athanasia was created of forbidden magic rather than being the symbol of his and Diana’s love… Claude had much to clean up. So much to do. But where was she? 

He couldn’t feel her mana now. Only his own, flickering and fading like the sparks of a dying star.

Where was Athanasia? She was beside him. She needed to wake up now. There was much for them to do—together.

His hands shifted to brush her cheek as his head started to clear.

Cold. Athanasia was cold. Cold like winter frost. Not even a fading warmth was there. Why was she cold? 

“Athanasia?” Claude stilled, the shock of the iciness of her skin still clinging to his fingertips like an iron brand. “Athanasia?”

Her body was so, so terribly cold.

The magician boy—mage of the Black Tower—was starting to panic too. Claude could barely hear him over the loud rushing in his ears, with all the finality of a last crescendo. 

Athanasia wasn’t waking up.

-

Athanasia couldn’t be gone.

She had chosen him. Always. Even as he’d pushed her away, even if he’d tried to kill her with his very own hands. Their relationship wasn’t perfect, Claude knew. He had been intimidating and callous at the start, always on the verge of letting festering grief control him. Even now, he knew he was overbearing and downright terrible at properly communicating. But still, even so, their bond had become strong with the strength of years. No matter what he did, Athanasia had never abandoned him. She was as constant as the sun.

Yet Claude knew, that all things too good to be true always faded away.

He still needed to apologize to her. He hadn’t—He hadn’t apologized for it all, for the hurt in her eyes and his amnesia-induced stupidity. So Athanasia couldn’t be gone now.

Claude wouldn’t let her go like all the rest. He’d learned this lesson time and time again, so from now on…

He’d stop letting anyone slip away like so. 

A thousand rose gardens, hundreds of dresses and accessories, countless libraries, and millions upon millions of gold and jewels—all of them dedicated to her. Claude knew he had to be prepared for when Athanasia awoke once more. And when she woke (for she would wake up), wouldn’t she be thrilled to see all of that waiting for her? And knowing Athanasia’s love of precious pretty baubles and such, she’d probably shower him in affection out of joy too. 

After that, he’d apologize for both his stupidity and ineptitude, and then never, ever, let her out of his sight ever again. Marriage, for her, would have to wait a little longer. After all, Athanasia was still a child anyways. 

(Claude would give Athanasia whatever she wanted for the rest of her life, if only she woke up again)

Athanasia was simply sleeping, that was all. Just like before.

The first time, the magician boy—Lucas—was able to help her. The second time, Claude did it himself.

Then together, surely, surely—

Athanasia would wake up soon.

-

One day in the Magician’s Tower, a hushed conversation had taken place between two researchers.

“I’m not sure if the Princess will ever ‘wake up. From the looks of it, she’s clearly dead, no matter how many high-level preservation spells the Emperor casts upon her. And have we all just forgotten that necromancy is forbidden? That magic was banned for a reason, Francis, what are we even doing? ” A researcher ranted to his co-worker, tangling a hand within his hair as he looked at her with great concern. Bruise purple eyebags could be seen lining his bloodshot eyes.

“Do you want to be the one to tell that to our oh-so-merciful Emperor? ‘Apologies, your highness; your beloved daughter’s soul has long vacated her body, and besides, necromancy is illegal in at least three empires—one of which is ours. So maybe we should stop finding a way to resurrect our Imperial Princess.’ Or maybe you’d like to try telling that to our fellow imperial magician, prodigy boy extraordinaire Lucas, instead?” Francis’s voice was caustic, dripping venom with every word. But her eyes darted around fearfully, a contrast to her harsh tones.

The silence in return told her all she needed to know.

-

The two were later transferred to work in a different department.

A new department, only recently formed. 

They were told that they had particular skills and traits that’d prove to be very helpful there.

Yes. Very helpful.

-

They said all bargains with magic were always equal. An eye for an eye. A tooth for a tooth.

A life for a life.

Whatever it took to bring her back.

-

Claude made sure that none of the servants slacked off whilst their princess was still in a deep slumber. It would not do for the Emerald Palace to become like the Ruby Palace. After all, unlike the Ruby Palace, the Emerald Palace was the official residence of Obelia's only princess.

Her bed would be most comfortable for her anyways.

-

“Trial: number forty-four has failed. Materials are running low too. We’ll need to try again three months later instead, Your Majesty.”

“Have you tried including the branch of the World Tree in these experiments yet?”

“Not yet. It’s surprisingly volatile. We’re still trying to figure out how to incorporate it into the rituals.”

“See to it that you figure that out soon. I don’t need useless magicians within this tower.”

“Your Majesty…”

“Yes?”

“We’re…running out of test subjects.”

“You know where to get them. I don’t have to remind you, do I?”

-

Athanasia was a beloved princess. So, so easy to love and adore. Beloved by him, beloved by Felix, by Lilian York, the Alpheus whelp, Anastacius’s daughter, and the magician. And even without any true appearances in the public eye, she was still adored by the masses.

That adoration painted a target on her back. And so, no one was allowed to let the matter of her prolonged slumber let slip. Who knew what dangerous group or individual would take advantage of her weak state to harm her?

Granted, his spells would shred them into pieces instantly, but Athanasia’s safety was paramount. It wasn’t something to be taken lightly.

So if he found any loose tongues then…

Well.

Loose as they were, they’d slide right out of their mouths, wouldn’t they?

-

Divine, forbidden, and black magic. What would happen if one mixed them all together?

What were the lengths someone would go, for a person so dearly beloved?

-

“Felix, if you’re not beside me, you’re against me.” A hand gripped tightly onto the shirt of a knight's uniform. Narrowed blue eyes glared into defiant greys. 

“And truly, I hope for your sake that you aren’t.” 

Mana exploded from Claude’s fingertips, crashing against hastily put up shields, the sheer force of it noticeably straining Felix. Blood started trickling from his nose as he valiantly tried to resist.

And failed.

The magic slammed into Felix with all the power of a tsunami, pushing him flat onto the ground as Claude released him. His senses were flooded with agony, having never truly felt the brunt of his liege’s power. Felix struggled to stand as he continued to hack out blood, an arm raising to cradle his ribs.

Claude merely stared at him apathetically. 

“If you are… Then I have no need for you,” he stated tonelessly. The emperor walked forwards, forcing his foot onto Felix’s chest, pressing him back down onto the ground. 

“Now, what is your answer? Are you against me? Or are you willing to give your all to help me wake her up? Make your decision, Felix.”

-

“Athanasia, can you hear me?” Claude gently stroked her hair, leaning over Athanasia as he strengthened both the preservation and protection spells. “I suppose you would be fully asleep by now though, wouldn’t you? After all, it’s the middle of the night now.”

He stared down at her porcelain white face, now looking apologetic. His long fingers threaded themselves through golden waves, and Claude thought of another image, a dark memory of long ago that was so similar to now.

At least there was no blood this time.

“I realize I shouldn’t be disturbing your sleep like this, but… It’s been a long while since then, hasn’t it?” Claude straightened up from his earlier position, smiling, still playing with Athanasia's hair. “You might be worried about those loose ends, but don’t worry so. Anastacius, Aeternitas, those idiotic nobles, and that foolish White Dog—I’ll take care of it all for you. Soon…” And at that, his smile sharpened, even as his eyes softened even more. “Soon, we can go back to what it was like before.”

The scant rays of moonlight shining upon Claude’s face only served to highlight the predatory edge of his smile as he went back to stroking her golden hair, starting to hum.

He’d have to thank his daughter for teaching him that melody, all those years ago. And Lillian York, for teaching it to her. There was something beautiful about its simplistic nature and comforting repetitive melodies. Something beautiful about the fact that Athanasia had sung it to him, and the fact that he was now singing for her. 

Just another thing for him to do when Athanasia finally woke up.

(He’d keep her closer still, closer than ever before)

-

Meetings with nobles had always been tedious and downright annoying. Meetings with nobles now were even worse, knowing that he’d only come back to Athanasia’s slumbering face, and not her sweet words and warm smiles. Like actors in an opera, the majority of them gave empty words and plastered masks of joy at his return.

He’d heard about how they’d tried to treat Athanasia when she acted in his place. And Claude was never a particularly forgiving person. 

His first order of business was to identify the traitors—those who had quietly supported Anastacius when Claude had been in no position to deal with any of the problems that had occurred. 

His second was to make sure the empire was still running smoothly. 

And so, his third was to immediately remove the traitors. Permanently.

They weren’t even worth the effort of being dealt with personally, but because they had slighted her through their actions, then it didn’t really matter whether they were worth the effort or not.

-

House Alpheus was first on the list. He’d let the heir live. The sins of the father would not be the sins of the son.

For he, Sun of the empire, Emperor of Obelia, was now judge, jury, and executioner. And he had weighed those sins and knew, would make sure, that the weight of them would drag Roger Alpheus down into Hell.

-

In the end, getting rid of both Anastacius and Aeternitas was about as easy as the first time round. This time though, he made sure his enemies were truly destroyed. Claude would not have any of them coming back when he least expected it, to ruin his idyllic happiness once more.

And if that involved personally ripping apart Aeternitas’s spirit, or removing Anastacius’s heart and burning his body to ash, oh well. 

As long as it got the job done, right?

After all, it wasn’t even the first time he’d spilled Anastacius's blood. Claude had simply made it so that this would be the last time he did so. Forever.

-

Amalgamation. It was a term he’d read in a book somewhere, once.

Amalgamation: the action, process, or result of uniting or combining.

Claude held Athanasia closer, curling his arms around her and pressing his face more firmly against her neck. His fingers weaved through her hair, combing through silken strands and braiding and unbraiding them. He inhaled, smelling roses. It would be nice, when Athanasia awakened, to be physically close together like this.

Looking into her eyes, Claude wondered what it’d be like. What it felt like. Had he felt it before? To truly become one with someone else, to combine with them, and not just on a physical level. But to tie two souls together until you’d never find where the difference between them lay. 

Athanasia had been the product of his and Diana’s love. A part of her, and a part of him. To let go of a part of him (and a part of her) so easily, why, he’d be mad to do so instead of binding them together for eternity.

(Her eyes, they were glass blue. The vibrance that had made them shine like jewels…where had it gone?)

-

Athanasia had cared deeply for the Margarita girl, hadn’t she? Athanasia would be sad if she came to harm. However, she was still a potential problem.

Although, didn’t Anastacius’s daughter have an innate connection to both forbidden and black magic? 

Then, if he simply proved that connection, it’d be like killing two birds with one stone. Claude would make sure she was well-cared for, but the girl would understand, wouldn’t she? The price for her continued existence in safety. If it was for Athanasia, and for her own safety, then she’d understand why.

-

“Can you figure out how the Margarita girl is connected to forbidden and black magic?” Claude asked.

The Mage squinted at him in suspicion. “The Chimera? What do you even need that information for?” He crossed his arms, raising an inquisitive brow. With how closely they’d been working together recently, there was no need to be polite anymore. 

“I believe you already know that yourself, Magician of the Black Tower.”

He’d lowered his eyes at that reply, tugging a strand of his hair. “...Athanasia wouldn’t be happy about this.”

Claude’s eyes were cold. “Would it matter to you though, if that helped her wake up? I know you hold affection for her—although I might also add that she’s still a child, so I urge you to keep that in mind when she awakens.”

“I just think—” He protested, apparently gaining a sudden conscience.

“We have long passed the point of no return. There is no turning back now. And,” Claude glared at him, blue mana flaring up, crackling around himself, “remember the role you played in this. Know that I will never let you turn back.”

-

As always, the air outside the palace was always abuzz with rumors. And murmurs of missing nobles, multiple sudden (permanent) trips to the countryside, and the sudden rain of unexplained job offers weaved through the masses as whispers trickling secrets into listening ears. And as the recent news swept across the land, it only served as kindling for the curiosity of those not directly within the loop.

Some said that only those whom no one would miss were picked. That once you accepted, you would never return. Those whispers were always either met with a growing concern or outright dismissal.

A few discussed the future of the empire nervously. Yes, their emperor had returned, and had once again defeated the villainous previous emperor, but what about their princess? It had been a while since they’d heard of any news pertaining to their beloved princess.

Most waved off the growing anxiety at the exodus of nobles—they were probably off to gallivant in the countryside, or whatever it was rich nobles did with their time. And if they were being “forcefully persuaded” to leave, then it wasn’t really their problem either.

-

“Didn’t you know? Francis hasn’t been back in months now. Last I heard, she was working on this big project with the Black Tower Magicians. Must be a pretty big project if it’s taking so long.” 

-

Quickly, quickly, the outside was so close and if she ran faster she’d be able to make it out. To be free from the madness seeping into the stones of the foundations. 

Oh, Great World Tree I pray to thee, please, please, please I beg of you—

Just as she took a single step outside, her world spun upside down, and before she knew it, everything had gone dark.

The poor girl never realized that she had never been alone.

At the very least, it had been swift and merciful.

-

No one understood. Athanasia wasn’t gone. Not yet. She was only sleeping. It was only a matter of time before she awoke as he had, too. They did not understand their bond, her unspoken promise to stay.

He’d have to scold her for doing something so reckless when she woke up, and for making him wait for so long. There were so many things Claude wanted to say, and yet, even as he said them all to Athanasia every night, he would never get a response. Not even a frown or a wriggle of discomfort from the noise.

But Claude would keep doing it every day, every night. Until the day she finally responded.

-

Some say the definition of insanity is doing something over and over and over and over again, hoping to achieve a better result than next time.

-

Not all bargains were seemingly equal, it seemed. 

What was the weight of a singular, unique soul compared to the rest?

Claude contemplated such a question, as he braided Athanasia’s hair, entwining roses in increasingly complicated plaits. Looking over his work, he found that he’d improved much over time. With practice came skill, and with skill came mastery.

It wouldn’t be long before everything would be ready, he thought.

-

“Athanasia, would you prefer to wear pink?” Claude held up a simple rosy pink gown in one hand. “Or blue?” With another hand, he raised up a similarly fashioned baby blue gown. Granted, it was simply casual wear, but Athanasia’s opinions were very important. Additionally, since she would no longer be staying in the Ruby Palace, it would be good to understand her likes and dislikes on such mundane things more intimately.

It was so terribly cold outside, so terribly unsafe outside. Anyone could hurt Athanasia out there, no matter how many protective spells he cast upon her, winding round and round like a spider’s cocoon. Inside his palace, inside his chambers was where she would be safest. No one was trustworthy when it came to her safety. 

(Not even him)

-

One-hundred-and-eight whole souls, extracted for shared traits with her.

One-hundred-and-eight souls for the ritual which would bring her back.

One-hundred-and-eight out of the hundreds of thousands.

It was time for Athanasia to come back home.

#my writing #fanfiction #wmmap #who made me a princess #sbapod #suddenly became a princess one day #claude de alger obelia #athanasia de alger obelia #wmmap lucas #oneshot #father daughter angst once more #this time with major character death #au #canon divergence #tw: death #claude is committing atrocities but now so is a whole band of wmmap characters too! #open ending #but personally i think he succeeded for extra creepiness and athy now has to deal with an overly obsessive and possessive father #rather than a neglectful one #wmmap felix

[govindhtech]

Alphacool Apex Stealth Metal Fan: Silent Powerhouse review

Alphacool Apex Stealth Metal Fans

The popular brand in PC cooling solutions, Alphacool, has introduced its Apex Stealth Metal line of cooling fans. The mistaken misunderstanding that the whole fan would be composed of metal contributed to the new fans’ considerable excitement before they arrived in the PC community.

The 120mm high-performance Alphacool Apex Stealth Metal Fan is intended to cool computer components. It has a distinctive design with a metal frame and proprietary decoupling technology that lowers vibration and noise.

There are four color possibilities for the fan: gold, chrome, white, and matte black.

There are two versions available:

Standard: 400–2,000 RPM, 82.9 CFM airflow, 3.07 mm H2O static pressure.

Power: 400–3,000 RPM, 119.3 CFM airflow, 5.12 mm H2O static pressure.

VersionSpeed Range (RPM)Airflow (CFM)Static Pressure (mm H2O)Standard-160082.93.07Power-2600119.35.12

Regarding how loud the fan is, users have left varying feedback. While some find it quieter than comparable fans on the market, particularly at lower speeds, others find it to be noisy. Though not the finest, the fan’s performance is usually regarded as decent.

These fans stand out for their distinctive design, which combines a metallic frame with plastic components that are disconnected from the metal, whether or not they are completely composed of metal. The fan’s operating effectiveness is influenced by this design decision in addition to its visual attractiveness.

The Alphacool Apex Stealth Metal Fan 120 mm and the Apex Stealth Metal Power 120 mm are two different variants in the series that are mainly differentiated by their maximum rotational speeds. The latter, intended for more demanding applications, can hit an astounding 3000 RPM, while the former can only go up to 2000 RPM. These fans, which come in four color choices (White, Matte Black, Chrome, and Gold), combine design and practicality, making them a flexible alternative for a variety of PC setups.

Each fan from AlphaCool comes in a cardboard box with premium fasteners, an extension power cord, and a little, gentle cleaning cloth. Although the cleaning cloth may seem unnecessary, it comes in useful when using the Chrome and Gold variants of the fans since even a little touch leaves a noticeable fingerprint imprint on the frames. Because the fan cables are so short and include both a male and a female connection, the extension wire is also essential.

This enables a daisy-chain configuration where many fans are connected in parallel to one another and are powered by a single extension wire; users must be aware of the maximum amperage the power supply can provide to avoid harming the motherboard or fan controller. Three Apex Stealth Metal fans may be powered without any problems by a single header on most gaming/performance motherboards.

Hydro-Dynamic Bearing (HDB) engines were chosen by AlphaCool because of their reputation for quiet operation and longevity. Although HDB designs are more affordable for performance fans, they are not the greatest kind of fan engine layout. Furthermore, a layer of versatility is added by the broad PWM (Pulse-Width Modulation) control, which enables users to modify the fan speed as necessary. Interestingly, if combined with a PWM controller that allows a zero-RPM mode, these fans may stop completely. This capability might be very helpful in low-heat situations or when attempting to reduce noise.

The question “Why isn’t the entire fan made out of metal?”. The quick answer is that there would be many technical and safety concerns if a fan’s moving components were made of metal. In addition, the increased mass of metal would result in a notable rise in power needs and energy consumption, with no discernible improvement in performance. However, the finest compromise between the two material types is achieved when plastic is used for the fan’s hub and blades and metal is used for the fan’s frame. This enhances the fan in places where the metal can work to its advantage rather than against it.

Before purchasing the Alphacool Apex Stealth Metal Fan, take into account the following factors:

Cost: The fan costs more than a lot of other 120mm fans available for purchase.

Level of noise: When the fan is running at higher speeds, some customers find it to be quite loud.

Performance: While not the greatest, the fan’s performance is usually regarded as decent.

Aesthetics: Some users may find the fan’s distinctive design attractive.

FAQS

How does the performance compare to other fans?

The performance, which includes respectable static pressure and airflow, is typically regarded as excellent. In rare instances, however, some more recent or expensive fans may perform better than it.

 Is this fan suitable for radiators?

Yes, you may use the fan on radiators in liquid cooling systems because of its static pressure.

What is the warranty for this fan?

You can usually find warranty information on the product page of the store where you are buying.

Where can I buy this fan?

The fan is sold via the Alphacool website and a number of PC hardware stores.

rea

[backyardflaneur916]

At a utility box close to a fast food drive through yards away from a man made lake at a public park. Talk about knowing your audience.

Photo ID: Sticker on a utility box. The sticker has a header underneath YouTube logo: AMBITION for FISHING. A guy carrying a fish by the head and giving a thumbs up. He is wearing a black long sleeve shirt and gold chain with a pendant. He is wearing camouflage cargo shorts and Timberland like boots. A jeeps front wheels, grill, and headlight is shown behind him. Also Redwoods next to ap river.

[rosariosteele65]

8 Mining And Consensus Mastering Bitcoin E-book

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#bitmain #bitmain antminer l7 #bitmain antminer #bitmain s19 #bitmain antminer s19 pro #bitmain antminer e9 #bitmain antminer k7 #bitmain antminer ka3 #bitmain antminer s19pro #bitmain ka3 #bitmain antminer s9 #bitmain firmware #bitmain kda miner #bitmain l7 #bitmain miner #bitmain s9 #bitmain antminer s19 #bitmain antminer s19 xp #bitmain antminer s7 #bitmain antminer z9 #bitmain e9 #goldshell #goldshell kd6 #goldshell miner #goldshell kd5 #goldshell miners #goldshell kd max #goldshell mining #goldshell sc box #ibelink